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Felix and Becca have been partners in crime for years, and they are amazing at what they do. When they are given an extremely risky assignment, can the best of the best make it out alive?


Submitted:Sep 17, 2013    Reads: 98    Comments: 21    Likes: 9   


One Final Stand

I had been training for months for this exact moment. My breathing was absolutely silent, even as my lungs were dying for a large intake of air. I was inches away from the heavy wooden door. My hand was resting carefully on the heavy metal handle. I pressed it ever so slightly, just to discover that it wouldn't budge. It was locked. I gently nudged my partner, Becca, with my foot, signaling that it was her turn to take over.

She swiveled around from her lookout position, making rapid eye-contact with me to ensure what I needed her to do. I was awe-struck for a moment because of her sheer beauty. She had long, dark waves, pulled back into a tight ponytail, exposing her flawless, white skin. Her eyes were so brown they appeared black, contrasting with her bright red lipstick. When her eyes met mine, my body fought to hold back the shiver it wanted to release. It didn't help that she was clothes in tight, black body gear, letting every hint of her curves become evident to the naked eye.

She gave a curt nod and bent down on one knee, pulling out a thin needle from her belt. She inserted the needle and used her insane knowledge of locks to unlock the door from the outside. There was a soft click and I smiled. We were in.

Becca stood back up and leaned close to my ear. Her whisper was barely audible, but I heard her loud and clear.

"Ready?"

I could only nod, not wanting to give away our position. Within seconds, I had the door wide open and I was standing face to face with President Knight, my black handgun pointed right between his eyes.

His face was priceless. His mouth was wide open, staring in shock. He sputtered, but he didn't manage to say anything comprehensive.

With skill that only a former United States Soldier could posses, I pressed the trigger and hit him clean in between the eyes, killing him instantly. His limp form collapsed onto the desk in front of him just as the warning sirens blared from beyond the walls.

Becca stood by the door, watching as the red lights consumed the hallway outside his office. She turned when she heard the gunshot, her eyes filled with pride and delight.

"Run." My order was swift, and within moments the two of us had bolted out of the office and down the hall, towards out escape. This was the most breakneck job the two of us have ever finished, but we weren't quite done yet. We had to make it out of the White House alive.

My footsteps were quiet but fast as the two of us bounded through the maze of hallways, our lives at a higher stake with every passing second. Secret Service men were soon at our tails in hot pursuit, but Becca and I never stopped. My lungs burned for air but my feet kept running without permission, trying to escape.

Suddenly, I felt Becca's hot, thin hand grasp mine. She held on and I squeezed back, letting her know I was still here. It was a habit of ours, making sure we were okay without using any words.

We were still sprinting when we finally reached our window at the end of the hall. Becca unlatched it with unbelievable speed and we were standing out on the balcony, the Secret Service men slamming against the window behind us out of fury.

I stood, admiring Becca as she pulled a gun from her belt and started shooting. The glass shattered and the men in black fell one by one. Blood was soon tricking out the low window and onto the balcony. One got so close that as Becca shot him, he reached out and wrapped his beefy hands around her leg. I took his head and smashed it against the outer brick wall with all the force, killing him instantly. Blood completely soaked his head and I could feel the separation between skin and bone as I threw his body away. Becca looked at me and nodded, a silent way of giving thanks.

They kept coming and coming, and as Becca re-loaded her gun I started stabbing and cutting whenever I could. If men got too close I simply gave a clean slice to their neck, releasing torrents of blood and other bodily fluids. I sliced hands off, revealing already-dying skin cells and sections of pure, white bone. Eventually, the guards learned to stay away and Becca stopped shooting, turning towards me.

"Now what?" she whispered. We both looked around and the getaway bungee that our team was supposed to leave was missing. They couldn't make it through security, but we had no way to make it off the balcony without risking our lives and jumping.

Before I could answer, one of the men that were thought to be already dead weakly lifted his arms and shot a bullet right at Becca. I didn't see him until the bullet was already inside Becca's stomach. She collapsed onto the ground, crying out in agony.

I found the man and shot him three times in the head without any remorse. I knelt on the floor by Becca. Her face and suit were blood spattered, and some of it was smeared in her hair, giving her a gross, dirty appearance. I took her head in one of my hands, using the other to aim my gun towards the open window for any of the men that wanted to try anything. Tears slowly ran down Becca's face, and she stared up at me, clearly in colossal amounts of pain.

"Felix, pleaseā€¦don't let them take me." Her voice cracked from the effort, and it took all my effort to stay strong. Becca was my best friend, my partner, my lifeline. I couldn't lose her, not like this.

"Becca, I need you to breathe. You are going to make it through this, do you understand me?!" I shouted angrily, gently pushing the hair away from her sweating face. My body shook with the realization that I was in love with her. I always knew it, on some level, but I didn't admit it until now.

"I'm sorry, Felix." She tried to laugh, I could feel her body move, but no sound came out. "I can't follow you, not this time."

"No!" My voice was hollow, even desperate.

"I love you Felix." Her voice wasn't even a whisper, but I heard. I always did.

I soon realized I didn't have any control over what happened. I didn't have any medical experience, and nobody was going to rescue her except me. I stared down at Becca, her face blood smeared and crying. She stared up at me, trying so hard to smile at me after her revelation. She was going to die, right now, in my arms. I did the only thing I could think of.

I leaned down and kissed her as hard as I could, taking the last breaths she would ever have. Her face was hot and her lips were freezing when mine claimed them, trying desperately to keep her alive. The blood on her face mixed with her tears, creating a salty and metallic taste in our mouths, but I didn't care. Under that, she tasted fearless, just like I knew she always would. She used the last of her effort to press her lips against mine and match me beat for beat, second for second.

Suddenly, the breath left her body, and I felt as she went limp in my arms. I screamed and try to breathe into her mouth, giving her my best attempt at CPR, but nothing worked. I eventually stopped and looked down at her beautiful, flawless form from above, knowing that the woman I loved would never smile, laugh, or even open her eyes again.

I gently traced the only scar on her entire body, just above her right eyebrow. It was barely visible to anyone else, and I discovered it once when we were on a mission. It was jagged because of the dull knife blade. I remember teasing her about how scary it made her look. My Becca was gone, but the scar was still there, a reminder of how many memories we had made together, partners in crime, side by side.

I pressed my lips against her forehead, a final goodbye. She never got caught, and now, neither would I. "Goodbye, Becca."

I stood up and walked to the railing of the balcony. There was a crowd gathering below, screaming and crying, but they were standing past the caution tape, away from the lawn. I was on one of the highest floors of the White House, far away from the grass below. I should have been terrified, but I didn't hesitate as I climbed over the railing and launched myself towards the ground, hundreds of feet below.

I felt myself falling, the wind rushing past my body with a roar. I knew there was no chance of survival, and that was the point. I had made my final stand, and my life was over. I wouldn't have the chance to live without Becca. The last thing I saw was her beautiful face, never leaving my mind as my body hit the ground, head-first, with a sickening thud.





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