Riot moved in almost complete silence, his steps only audible to his own ears. The water under his feet ran with blood, the stench almost unbearable. His rifle scanned the corridor, using its flashlight attachment to pierce the darkness. The walls were damp from the humidity and the air was thick. The doors along the wall were closed, the openings to alley ways gated. The silence was loud. Water dripped farther in, shocking in the midst of the dead, still air.
“Landy,” he said into his earpiece, “do you copy?”
Nothing. Blood dripped from his rifle’s bayonet. He left a trail of bodies on his way in. This was his and Landy’s first assignment together. An intricate hit – a perfect job for them to learn to work together.
Riot and Landy entered the program together, drawn to each other like kindred spirits. In a group of sixty entrants, they scored in the top five. After the grueling exam called “The Crucible," they beat the record time by two days. Only those two that thought to work together to survive the forest. Trainees were dropped at different points forty miles away from the rendezvous in any direction to retrieve a panther's tooth. Riot and Landy agreed to land close enough to find each other. They were given a machete, a bow with twelve arrows, and a cotton sack that held 50 ft of paracord, a food bar, and fishing wire. One month was their time requirement.
Voices came from an alley. He walked to the wall’s edge and peered around, turning off his light. Three men stood in front of a door talking in the light of a red bulb above.
“You off for the night?” asked one
“Nah, just on break,” said the one in the middle.
“I don’t know why we’re here, anyway. This place is protected. They’d need an army to get to the commander,” said the one on the left.
“Yeah, if it’s a direct attack. The Twelve are pros. They could get in and out, no problem,” the one in the middle took a drag.
“Yeah, man. He must have really pissed someone off for The Twelve to come after him. How did he know anyway?”
Riot slid his rifle to his back and pulled a bow from his shoulder. He advanced, staying in the dark. The third man almost back flipped from the arrow to his head. The man in the middle turned in Riot’s direction. An arrow flew through his throat. The last man looked to his left at his radio sitting on a stool. An arrow pierced his hand as he reached. Another through his chest. He groaned and fell with heavy, labored breathing.
Riot approached and he looked up in horror. “He knew because we told him we were coming,” Riot knelt closer. He pulled the arrow out of his chest and stabbed it through his eye.
“Landy?” he said again.
Commotion came from behind the door. Riot jumped and put his back against the wall, standing next to the door. It opened, hiding him from view. A shocked guard rushed to one of the bodies. He reached for his radio, but Riot severed his head with his machete. A guard came through the door behind him.
“Hey!” he yelled, pointing his rifle. He froze and reached for his back. He jerked again and fell forward with a knife in the spine. Landy knelt down and yanked her knife out of her victim.
“Do you take long to shower, too?” She asked.
“Shut up, I had to get through some guys earlier.”
