futilely at his punctured forehead.
Cassandra entered the office, checked the monitors, and ran back to the chair where she left her purse. She pulled a small package out of the purse, set the timer, and ran back to the security office. She planted the package under the security console and ran back to the office as the timer on the explosives clicked back from the ten minute mark. She returned the dart gun to her purse and paused to compose herself.
Despite an adrenaline surge, Cassandra forced herself to assume an icy demeanor and stare calmly at a portrait of George Washington. George’s impassive face seemed to be saying, So you killed the Chief of Staff? No big deal. Now what are you going to do ?
Cassandra picked up her purse and headed for the door. She tried to ignore the sweat developing on her forehead as she walked briskly down the hallway, attempting to appear professional and unconcerned. She took a left into the next corridor and quickened her pace when she spotted the lobby door on the opposite side.
Cassandra halted when she saw the door swing open. Her instincts took over as the lobby guards entered the corridor carrying hand-held machine guns. She sprinted around the corner before the guards could lift their weapons. The wall behind her was ripped apart by bullets as she turned into the next corridor.
How did they know so fast ? Cassandra thought as she sprinted down the corridor.
According to the captured floor plans she studied, the adjacent surveillance room was the only one monitoring the Chief of Staff’s office in order to ensure privacy for top-level meetings. That was why the target was chosen in the first place. With the guards in the surveillance room dead, there should have been no one left to sound the alarm.
But somehow they knew!
Cassandra ducked into a side corridor and pulled the dart gun from her purse. She re-loaded it and dropped the purse on the floor, waiting around the corner with weapon in hand.
She heard footsteps in the hallway, so she turned the corner and dropped to the floor, firing a barrage of plastic darts. She struck the foremost guard twice in the face and ducked around the corner as the remaining guard opened fire. Metallic thunder resounded in the confines of the corridor as the guard advanced, firing. When she heard the firing cease, she turned the corner and fired her last two darts into his neck. She ran forward and grabbed the machine gun out of his hands as he slumped to the floor.
Cassandra heard a crashing sound to her right and turned to see a heavily armored tactical team running down a side corridor toward her. She fired her captured machine gun around the corner at the soldiers as they advanced. The bullets only dented their body armor and knocked a few of them down. Most of them continued advancing.
She ducked around the corner, narrowly avoiding a barrage from their automatic rifles. When she turned the corner to fire again, a hail of bullets struck her. Cassandra fired her captured machine gun at the advancing attackers as she collapsed into a puddle of blood on the red carpeted floor.
********
“Hey, Peter, you okay, or what? You look like you’re in a trance!” Henry shouted to his friend as the parade of protesters continued to march by unabated.
“I’m okay, let’s get going,” Peter replied as he cleared away memories from his past and focused on his friend’s face.
“Hey, check that out,” Billy said, pointing to a sleek, black, gleaming anti-grav limousine cruising twenty feet above the road on a nearby side street.
The limo halted at the edge of the parade and turned on its left blinker, trying to edge out into the half-lane that was not occupied by the marching protesters.
“What’s a limo doing in this hole-in-the-wall neighborhood?” Henry asked.
“And what’s he doing trying to join the parade?” Billy
Cassandra entered the office, checked the monitors, and ran back to the chair where she left her purse. She pulled a small package out of the purse, set the timer, and ran back to the security office. She planted the package under the security console and ran back to the office as the timer on the explosives clicked back from the ten minute mark. She returned the dart gun to her purse and paused to compose herself.
Despite an adrenaline surge, Cassandra forced herself to assume an icy demeanor and stare calmly at a portrait of George Washington. George’s impassive face seemed to be saying, So you killed the Chief of Staff? No big deal. Now what are you going to do ?
Cassandra picked up her purse and headed for the door. She tried to ignore the sweat developing on her forehead as she walked briskly down the hallway, attempting to appear professional and unconcerned. She took a left into the next corridor and quickened her pace when she spotted the lobby door on the opposite side.
Cassandra halted when she saw the door swing open. Her instincts took over as the lobby guards entered the corridor carrying hand-held machine guns. She sprinted around the corner before the guards could lift their weapons. The wall behind her was ripped apart by bullets as she turned into the next corridor.
How did they know so fast ? Cassandra thought as she sprinted down the corridor.
According to the captured floor plans she studied, the adjacent surveillance room was the only one monitoring the Chief of Staff’s office in order to ensure privacy for top-level meetings. That was why the target was chosen in the first place. With the guards in the surveillance room dead, there should have been no one left to sound the alarm.
But somehow they knew!
Cassandra ducked into a side corridor and pulled the dart gun from her purse. She re-loaded it and dropped the purse on the floor, waiting around the corner with weapon in hand.
She heard footsteps in the hallway, so she turned the corner and dropped to the floor, firing a barrage of plastic darts. She struck the foremost guard twice in the face and ducked around the corner as the remaining guard opened fire. Metallic thunder resounded in the confines of the corridor as the guard advanced, firing. When she heard the firing cease, she turned the corner and fired her last two darts into his neck. She ran forward and grabbed the machine gun out of his hands as he slumped to the floor.
Cassandra heard a crashing sound to her right and turned to see a heavily armored tactical team running down a side corridor toward her. She fired her captured machine gun around the corner at the soldiers as they advanced. The bullets only dented their body armor and knocked a few of them down. Most of them continued advancing.
She ducked around the corner, narrowly avoiding a barrage from their automatic rifles. When she turned the corner to fire again, a hail of bullets struck her. Cassandra fired her captured machine gun at the advancing attackers as she collapsed into a puddle of blood on the red carpeted floor.
********
“Hey, Peter, you okay, or what? You look like you’re in a trance!” Henry shouted to his friend as the parade of protesters continued to march by unabated.
“I’m okay, let’s get going,” Peter replied as he cleared away memories from his past and focused on his friend’s face.
“Hey, check that out,” Billy said, pointing to a sleek, black, gleaming anti-grav limousine cruising twenty feet above the road on a nearby side street.
The limo halted at the edge of the parade and turned on its left blinker, trying to edge out into the half-lane that was not occupied by the marching protesters.
“What’s a limo doing in this hole-in-the-wall neighborhood?” Henry asked.
“And what’s he doing trying to join the parade?” Billy
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