Red

I speak through an earpiece and a microphone on the jacket, "All the outside guards are down. It's clear to enter. Respond if you've secured access. Over."

Why would they need so many guards in such a secluded place? I breathe soundly while embracing the Barret M82, waiting for any semblance of a movement around the compound.

Still nothing.

"If no one responds, I'm coming in!" I repeat for I can't stand the silence any longer.

The binoculars pool the front compound view with at least four fallen bodies in each of three angles. But I don't see the patron—the guy who warned them. Approximately, I've wiped at least twenty guards and I could have done it using my Glock alone.

But I guess my team thought I'm too emotional right now so I should stay a watchdog. What a joke! I get up and throw the Light Fifty onto my shoulder. Careful, I stride through the crocheted fern woods with snow-capped branches. Fuck, Alaska sucks! Feels like a slot in a refrigerator.

Sound waves overlap as I walk through the trunk of trees, heading for the main house benchmarked with gold light glowing through its French windows. The blue hue from the moon bathes the white ground beneath me like a goddamn Christmas night; my boots shove into the snow as I move.

She gotta be fine. All I want is for them to be fine. My child. My woman.

With broken frequency, I hear, "Access granted. We're inside the house; a few more bastards to take. No party without a little drama, is there? Over and Out!" Kenna's voice.

She grunts, punching or kicking someone. And to my side, another guard flings from behind the Rover parked near an outhouse, about twenty feet from the main house. As he lunges, he screams a death note. Except, it's not my death he'll have.

Coldly, I shoot using the handgun. His screams fade; his body topples down.

"Patrick and your Damsel are not here, Rayden," I hear from Silver.

I stop moving. "How come?"

"A hidden little cave, I suppose? He's a slippery one." Amused, Silver sounds in motion. "There must be a secret room somewhere in the house."

"Only one way to find out." I reach for the guard I just shot and crouch down beside him. The patron, undoubtedly. He's still alive. "And Bastien?" I lift the guard's face; he's choking from pain, a hand pressed on his ribcage right where blood seeps out through his gloved fingers.

He's panting, shuddering.

"Nada. Are you sure he's here too?" Silver asks.

"Positively. Kingston is too much of a coward not to keep his one-man army in a place like this." I train my eyes on the guard in a heavy jacket that couldn't repel a bullet. Means they're just routine guards; no bulletproof vests. "Be careful. Like I said, do not underestimate Bastien. I'll be in soon."

"Roger that," Silver replies and moves.

Back to the patron, I say, "I only have one question. Depending on your answer, I may let you live since you've put up a good survival fight. I respect that."

I've shot him twice including this time, yet here he is. His leg is a mess. Pretty sure he'll never walk.

"W-what d'you want?" he asks, his breath labored, cold sweat on his forehead.

"Your boss. Patrick Kingston. Where is he now?" I ask. He grits his teeth, panting rapidly. Good. Means the bastard is still here. I get up and dismount my rifle. "You got three seconds to respond."

His eyes widen in horror. "I-I don't know—"

Cocking the rifle, I begin, "Three..."

"I'm just a guard—"

I point the rifle at him. "Two..."

"There's a basement!" he snaps. I hold the rifle still. "Protected with codes. Only Jimmy in the control room can access it. You reach him, you get to the boss."

"He may be right," I hear Silver. "I think we got our guy. Hello, Jimmy."

I inhale deeply.

"Good," I tell the patron and turn around, only to hear a derived move of his hand reaching for his pistol. "But I'm afraid not for you." With a back shot, I blow his head.

He should've stuck to the agreement. Why's it so hard to trust these people?

"Let me know once you get the codes," I speak into the microphone and ready myself for the two guards storming from the outhouse.

Just why the fuck do they need so many people guarding this place?

Two minutes later I find Kenna whimpering on the floor, her back leaning against the kitchen cabinet. I rush toward her, a string of emotions pulled back to reality—I've been feeling nothing but anger all this time. I look at her; she's holding her right shoulder punctured by a bullet.

"Hey," I whisper.

She laughs shakily. "Now that feels good. The Red who gives a fuck. Don't worry, it's not deep. Thought Bastien was just a savage but it turns out he's a bitch too. Well, he must've killed all of the Silver's boys by now."

I breathe heavily. "Can you move?"

"Me, hell yeah." She sucks in a lungful of fair, drawing in the pain. When she exhales, her pupils dilate. "But my arm... can't risk it. It's close to the joint. I feel it." I see worry in her eyes.

"Wait here. I'll get—"

"Go, Red! I'll be fine," she insists while lifting her 9MM using her left hand. "They're planning to use an escape exit so go after them before it's too late. I doubt there's any armed guard left aside from Bastien."

"I got the codes and sealed the exit. Now Hurry up!" Silver interrupts and Kenna nods at me to follow through.

"Kenna is injured. You have to get her back to the Rover," I reply to Silver.

"What the fuck! Is she okay?" Silver snaps.

"Yeah. For now." A frown flits on my face when Kenna hisses under her breath.

"These bastards! Okay, I'm rollin' back. Tell her to stay put," Silver urges.

"She knows what to do." I take a deep but rushed breath. "Looks like your old friend won't let you die, after all. As you said, I can't stay... I'm going for Mia."

Kenna nods stiffly and says, "Do it. And make damn sure you both come back in one piece!"

Mia

I imagine the rain of bullets outside even though this place we're in is a bit soundproof. There's a ray of hope. I know Red is here. I can feel it. And the petrified look in Patrick's eyes whenever he glances at me affirms my suspicion and it makes me so happy.

At last, I can feel my little bean too after a long moment of crucifying silence. Hold on, baby. Daddy is here. Whatever is happening beyond these walls must be bad news for Patrick, which is good for us. That means he is somehow outmaneuvered by Red.

Once again I look at the basement we're in. It's a lab with all the chemicals and apparatus I've seen in Kingston Pharmaceutical B-sector, the highest secured part of the Kingston empire where I only set foot once in all nine years of being Patrick's wife.

My heart pounds rapidly as I glance at the blue floors, white ceilings, and rows of cabinets holding computers, microscopes, centrifuges, incubators with rats and guinea pigs rattling and snorting, and so much stuff I barely know. The air is eerily warm compared to the rest of this place.

"It's useless. The door is auto-locked and it can't be undone manually unless we blow up the whole exit," Bastien tells Patrick after trying to break the codes holding the steel door in place for almost five minutes now.

"Then blow it!" Patrick enunciates, a gun in his hand even though he's made sure my hands are bound behind my back so I don't try any funny business.

But I'm a stray cat from New Orleans. There's no way I let all those surgical blades and syringes holding peculiar fluids in them go untouched in this lab.

Bastien looks at him levelly, his face greasy and blemished by sweat. There's blood on his jacket, but I don't think it's his. The thought sends disturbing messages in my head because I'll die if anything happens to Red because of me.

"The minute we blow it, the whole tunnel collapses into an avalanche of ice. There's only one way out now, I'm afraid," Bastien says, and Patrick's eyes grow darker. "I'm going first. I'll let you know once it's safe to get out," he adds in a disturbing tone of voice.

Patrick steps away from me. He's been guarding me subtly with his proximity, not missing so much as a glance at whatever I do each time I move or roll my eyes somewhere else. And that's his mistake. I pull around, eyes on them, searching for anything useful.

"You do remember the day I saved your family back in Mozambique and took all of you to America where you finally found a purpose in life, don't you?" I hear Patrick asking.

Bastien's wide chest thumps up and down a bit faster. I narrow my gaze, for the tension between them is so thick that I could cut it with a knife. Why is Patrick using his famous sentimental card against his loyal dog? Doesn't he trust Bastien now?

"I do," Bastien answers deeply. For once emotions take shelter in his relentless, dusky eyes. "And I vowed to serve you with my life."

"Exactly." Patrick nods, smiling in that disgusting smile of power. "I know you've been in touch with Eliot a little too much these couple of days." His cold gaze pierces through his bodyguard's strong walls of confidence. "But I also know he's your favorite. After all, you're more like a father to him than me. You were with him in Moscow for five years and loyalty runs in your cold blood!" His hands shove into Bastien's shoulder tightly but the Mozambican barely flinches.

"Seriously? You think this is the right time to gloat, Patrick?" I snap.

"Stay out of it, Mia!" Patrick snaps back. "Bastien knows what I'm talking about. You can't serve two masters at the same time, but you must remember who among them has the hand that feeds you. Once this is all over, I'll take him to his wife and daughter who are safely guarded right now." I feel his crooked smile even though all I see is his back.

There. Just a little higher. I keep struggling to reach my weapon.

Something bitter grows on Bastien's face. He's trapped. As always, Patrick has secured his leverage beforehand so his loyal subject doesn't change sides. The bastard has Bastien's family held hostage.

"I never forgot what you did for me, Sir. And I will get you out of here." Coming from Bastien, it sounds like a fucking promise. I hate it. "Forgive me, Ma'am." He looks at me, and fear swims back into my stomach.

Patrick laughs wickedly. "See, butterfly? We all have priorities after all, don't we?"

Despite the turmoil inside me, I manage to smirk at him and pretend none of it affects me. I don't know about him, but I do know the father of my baby is not an easy opponent either. And I have faith that God won't let him lose this war because that means evil wins.

Back to me, Patrick grips my upper arm and pulls me savagely toward him. "I said I'll make you watch him die, remember? Now is the time. Follow me!" he orders.

I clamp my teeth, purring heavy breaths filled with anger through my nostrils. Although with difficulty, I comply with his demand by walking beside him. But one thing is for sure, I will kill Patrick Kingston before he takes me out of this place no matter what happens.

__________

A/N: Bastien Vs Red. Place your bet. Ghaah, I'm a total amateur with action and spy shit but I hope the plot development makes sense lol. Almost at the end.