a night off never meant a peaceful night. she should’ve known that eventually this would happen when you play with fire. glass balcony doors locked for the night and warm tea in hand, she gazed all too long outside her window before starting to turn—-might as well have had a target on her head; in a way, she did. little did she know, identities only stay secret for so long, little did she know there was a price on her pretty head.
BANG. glass shattered, bullet pinging off her temple; her nerves PANICKING in confusion and pain beneath striking silver skin—anastasia hit the ground with a THUNK to take cover. WHAT THE FUCK. head throbbing, right ear ringing—it took a minute to process she had just been shot in her own HOME.
hey ana, don’t you wish you had a gun right now? with a wince, hand pressing firm against her cold temple, she was quick to YANK her coffee table to her and force it between herself and the pile of glass; it was better to have a barrier between her and a god damn SNIPER until she can make it to the door. if she timed it, she could run NOW—but she’d have to come up with a decoy first, had to make them think she was still in the apartment. shitshitshit.
dark brows furrow & he pulls his head up away from the scope of his rifle. john knows she dropped, but he’s also been on this side of a headshot from a mcmillan cs5 a number of times & it never looks quite the way it did there. didn’t see any blood, either. now he’s theorizing, & if what he’s beginning to believe is correct, then someone low-balled him hard. wick places the rifle up against the balcony, leaving his perch & deciding to take things on up close & personal. regardless of how this plays out, he’ll be having a nice long talk with his contractor after he’s done with this girl.
john moves down the stairs with impressive speed & precision, skipping steps on his descent. he steals out the front doors of the complex he’d set up in, & out into the pouring rain & glistening tarmac. dark hair clings damp to his face, water dripping from the cuffs of his suit. part of him worries that the gun at his hip might end up malfunctioning if it gets too wet, so he’s decided not to rely on that if at all possible.
wick crashes into her building, knowing she’d not have had enough time to make an escape yet but unsure of where she may have gone if she isn’t still up in her apartment. instead of wasting time malingering about, he heads straight to where he’d seen her last, ascending until he’s reached her floor.
