Chapter 2- The Mission
1080 Words
I woke before my alarm.
The room was still dark, the city quiet in that fragile way it only ever was before dawn. For a moment, I lay there staring at the ceiling, listening to my own breathing, waiting for my heart to slow. It didn’t.
I swung my legs off the bed and headed for the bathroom, taking a cold, fast shower. The water beat against my skin, sharp enough to keep my thoughts from spiraling. When I stepped out, I dressed in silence, pulling on black tactical pants, a fitted top, boots polished to a mirror shine
At the small table by the window, my gear waited: A fully loaded gun with extra bullets. Earpiece. Wire. Disguise ID. Knife strapped to my thigh.
As I holstered my weapon, an image flickered through my mind—burned skin, stiff bodies, eyes staring at nothing.
Dead.
I shut the thought down and reached for my phone instead. A message popped up, but I didn’t look. Whatever it said would only make me more anxious.
I was preparing breakfast when Anna came into the kitchen, still half-asleep, looking innocent in the way only she could.
“Good morning Lu,” she said.
“Good morning. How are you?”
“I'm fine. You weren't at home when I arrived yesterday,” she said, taking a seat at the counter.
“I went out last night with David and some colleagues.”
She gazed at me like I just said something containing a lick of sense. I served the egg, bacon and bread on the already set table.
We sat to eat when I said,
“I will be home late tonight,”
“Again,” she cut me short, “ We never get to spend time together.”
“I'm sorry,” I said. “I promise I will make it up to you.”
“When huh?” she stared at me and scoffed. ”You always say this and then disappear.” She said, slamming the fork on the table.
“I'm sorry,”
“You're always sorry, Lu. After our parents died, I felt like I lost you too,” she said, teary-eyed. She stormed off to her room but whispered faintly, “Pathetic.”
Sadness hit me, but I couldn’t dwell on it. Not now. I pushed the guilt down, cleared the table, packed Anna’s breakfast for school, and quickly texted my best friend, Mary.
“Hi baby, please can you look after Anna today.”
“Of course, anytime. But are you going somewhere?” she replied.
“I will tell you if I survive tonight.”
I switched my phone immediately without reading her reply, knowing fully well she would ask more questions.
The transport van was already waiting downstairs. David sat across from me and offered me coffee as I entered the van, elbows on his knees, jaw tight. No one joked. No one filled the silence.
“Final check,” he said at last. “Comms go dark, we regroup at exit C. No hero moves.”
A few heads nodded.
I met his eyes. “If anything feels off, we abort.”
David hesitated for half a second but nodded. “Agreed.”
The city outside blurred past the tinted windows. Sirens wailed somewhere in the distance. Pedestrians crowded sidewalks, unaware that tonight, a war was about to break out in their favorite casino.
Moretti Casino rose ahead of us, all glass and gold, glowing like a promise. Luxury. Excess. Sin dressed up as entertainment.
We dispersed a block away.
Undercover positions took their places. Snipers moved to rooftops. Every eye watching, every angle covered. I adjusted my earpiece as I walked toward the entrance, my heart steady now, focus snapping into place.
A tug at the back of my mind warned me something was off.
Guards too rigid, a man leaning against a pillar, hoodie pulled low, eyes scanning the doors rather than his phone.
“This feels too smooth,” I murmured into my mic. Unease crawling up my spine.
“Copy,” David replied. “Stay sharp.”
I stepped inside.
Lights exploded around me. Music thumped through the floor. Perfume, alcohol, smoke, sweat—it all hit at once. People laughed, shouted, gambled away money like it was nothing.
I moved through the crowd, eyes flicking to cameras, exits, reflections in mirrored columns.
A guard brushed past me, his shoulder slamming into mine harder than necessary. I turned, heart racing—but he kept walking.
I exhaled slowly.
“Positions confirmed,” someone whispered through comms.
Then,
A fight broke off. A scream cut through the music. A body hit the floor hard enough that I felt it through my boots. Someone screams. Another followed.
Gunfire cracked.
“Lucy—” David started.
People ran.
The casino turned into a stampede of bodies and panic, tables overturned, glass shattering. I dropped low, pulling my weapon as a man lunged at me. I hit him in the throat. Hard. He went down, crimson fountaining from his mouth. Another lunged from my left. I fired once. He spun and collapsed, red staining the polished floor.
“Ambush!” someone shouted.
Exits were blocked. Guards flooded in—not panicked, not surprised.
Prepared.
“Comms are down!” David yelled. “Abort the mission. Lucy, move out!”
I moved on instinct, fighting my way through bodies, ducking blows, slamming elbows into ribs. Pain exploded along my side as something struck me—metal, maybe a baton.
I tasted blood.
A teammate went down near the roulette tables, screaming as his arm bent the wrong way. He was dragged across the floor, leaving a smear of red behind him.
I tried to reach them.
Hands grabbed me from behind, jerking me off balance.
I tried to fight but I felt weak, too weak. I couldn't process what was happening when a fist slammed into my jaw. My vision flashed white. I staggered as someone wrenched my arms back, cold metal snapping tight around my wrists.
My knees hit the floor. Blood pooled beneath me, slick and warm, soaking into the tiles.
The crowd had thinned. The noise dulled, like I was underwater.
A tall figure stood amid the chaos, untouched, unmoving.
I couldn’t make out his face, but the calm in his stance set my nerves on edge.
He tilted his head slightly, as if amused by the havoc around him.
- Writer
