06-10-2014, 06:41 PM
Trano's behavior kept Reed close. When his eyes fixed upon something she did her damndest to see whatever it was, when he stumbled, she hefted him back up, and most importantly, when he decided to trudge back into the thick of it, she did too.
Trano's final comment made Reed smirk. He seemed well-enough recovered, now. Though the edges of his expression were harder than earlier, she didn't think much more on it. Until that hardened gaze cracked, and a millisecond later, all hell broke loose.
A yell and Reed found herself face planting the ground. Asphalt kicked into the air beneath the sting of bullet spray, and instinct made Reed's limbs scramble for cover. A flame thrower sprayed flashes of heat way too close for comfort as she was calculating how many shots she had left in the pistol.
The nearest cover turned out to be behind an equipment crate, but she dove right into the side of Legionnaire who'd had the same idea.
They locked eyes onto one another and silently shared a simultaneous countdown. A second later, both jumped to their feet with a roar, weapons aimed... and found the unbelievable; both dropped their jaws.
A wall of burning bodies revealed just how far the enemy made it to the command center without being seen. Between the soaring flames she could see a few survivors running away, screaming and tearing away burning clothes. The rest were smoldering stumps.
She lowered the pistol. "Well hot damn,
" she smiled at the scene, but when Reed looked to the Legionnaire, that smile died faster than the Arabs. "Get help!"
she yelled while shoving the bigger man aside.
She landed at Trano's side and ran her hands over. Alive. Breathing. Eyes open. "Nicholas,"
she spoke breathily, gauging the damage. Thigh and arm were pot-marked red. His upper chest... that damned armor! she flicked at a strap woven through the wrong loop. She'd even been the one to correct him when he put it on, and now he was as useless as a boat with a hole in it.
He sensed she was there and choked out some words, "This really really sucks, Reed."
Always the comedian, he was definitely going to be alright. She smirked and leaned over him so her face would fill his view of the world. The hair around her brow was a hard line of sweat, her cheeks flush with adrenaline. "There's worse things than getting shot. Believe me."
Her eyes tightened, seemingly narrower than normal, but now was not the time to elaborate.
He tried to move, but Reed easily kept him still while her dangerous gaze swept the immediate area. There were no signs of the enemy. Help was quickly coming, though. Trano's voice pulled her attention back to him. "And here I thought I had plot armor. Last time I dress like a storm trooper."
Reed barked a laugh. "If only."
A flinch darkened his expression, one that Reed did her best to comfort. There were worse things than getting shot, but a bullet in bone didn't exactly feel great, either. But like all men facing mortality, he had to get one thing off his chest. "What's your name, Reed?"
The question took her by surprise. For a moment, they were not on an air strip, not surrounded by human barbecue, and not facing their own deaths. They were just two people, although the term barely applied to her; Reed had to think for a moment.
She could say, and if he died, no one would be the wiser, but if he did die on her watch, she'd be in a lot more trouble than telling him her birth name. It'd drive a wedge between them to refuse an answer; a trust she worked hard to earn. She had his allegiance the day in the limo when she told him about her status with the agency, if not also his affection. She remembered the way he looked at her that night in the safe house and the heated hours two nights ago that finally brought them together. He wanted to trust her because thats the kind of man he was, and Reed needed him on her side.
Dice rolled.
"Ninacska."
Her name slipped all too easily from between her teeth.
Edited by Julie Reed, Jun 10 2014, 06:57 PM.
Trano's final comment made Reed smirk. He seemed well-enough recovered, now. Though the edges of his expression were harder than earlier, she didn't think much more on it. Until that hardened gaze cracked, and a millisecond later, all hell broke loose.
A yell and Reed found herself face planting the ground. Asphalt kicked into the air beneath the sting of bullet spray, and instinct made Reed's limbs scramble for cover. A flame thrower sprayed flashes of heat way too close for comfort as she was calculating how many shots she had left in the pistol.
The nearest cover turned out to be behind an equipment crate, but she dove right into the side of Legionnaire who'd had the same idea.
They locked eyes onto one another and silently shared a simultaneous countdown. A second later, both jumped to their feet with a roar, weapons aimed... and found the unbelievable; both dropped their jaws.
A wall of burning bodies revealed just how far the enemy made it to the command center without being seen. Between the soaring flames she could see a few survivors running away, screaming and tearing away burning clothes. The rest were smoldering stumps.
She lowered the pistol. "Well hot damn,
" she smiled at the scene, but when Reed looked to the Legionnaire, that smile died faster than the Arabs. "Get help!"
she yelled while shoving the bigger man aside.
She landed at Trano's side and ran her hands over. Alive. Breathing. Eyes open. "Nicholas,"
she spoke breathily, gauging the damage. Thigh and arm were pot-marked red. His upper chest... that damned armor! she flicked at a strap woven through the wrong loop. She'd even been the one to correct him when he put it on, and now he was as useless as a boat with a hole in it.
He sensed she was there and choked out some words, "This really really sucks, Reed."
Always the comedian, he was definitely going to be alright. She smirked and leaned over him so her face would fill his view of the world. The hair around her brow was a hard line of sweat, her cheeks flush with adrenaline. "There's worse things than getting shot. Believe me."
Her eyes tightened, seemingly narrower than normal, but now was not the time to elaborate.
He tried to move, but Reed easily kept him still while her dangerous gaze swept the immediate area. There were no signs of the enemy. Help was quickly coming, though. Trano's voice pulled her attention back to him. "And here I thought I had plot armor. Last time I dress like a storm trooper."
Reed barked a laugh. "If only."
A flinch darkened his expression, one that Reed did her best to comfort. There were worse things than getting shot, but a bullet in bone didn't exactly feel great, either. But like all men facing mortality, he had to get one thing off his chest. "What's your name, Reed?"
The question took her by surprise. For a moment, they were not on an air strip, not surrounded by human barbecue, and not facing their own deaths. They were just two people, although the term barely applied to her; Reed had to think for a moment.
She could say, and if he died, no one would be the wiser, but if he did die on her watch, she'd be in a lot more trouble than telling him her birth name. It'd drive a wedge between them to refuse an answer; a trust she worked hard to earn. She had his allegiance the day in the limo when she told him about her status with the agency, if not also his affection. She remembered the way he looked at her that night in the safe house and the heated hours two nights ago that finally brought them together. He wanted to trust her because thats the kind of man he was, and Reed needed him on her side.
Dice rolled.
"Ninacska."
Her name slipped all too easily from between her teeth.
Edited by Julie Reed, Jun 10 2014, 06:57 PM.