The Cold, Hard TruthMature

Reaper

I shook my head as we pushed the two bodies through the swinging double doors. The room was freezing, making it so we could see our breath as Ghost pushed the bodies next to a wall.

"Lets go," I hissed turning to the door. Suddenly a man came barging through the door shoving his glasses up the bridge of his nose. The man had to be no older than his mid to late twenties. The man muttered a sorry throwing a pile of files and papers on an unorganized desk. 

"Who are the bodies?" the doctor asked as Ghost hurried through the still swinging doors. 

"Friends," I said in a forced american accent. "Bald Eagle in his office?" The man nodded and turned around, allowing me to slip out after Ghost. I gave him a thumbs up then pointed down the hallway, we'd have to follow the signs. It was hard not to sprint as we moved up the stairway. First floor, second floor, the numbers continued up till we finally reached the sixth floor. I could feel the lactic acid burning in my legs as Ghost shoved open the heavy metal door. I leaned my head out into the hallway seeing no one, I pointed two fingers towards the left. Ghost and I walked slowly and carefully, checking each plaque. My eyes finally fell on a navy blue plaque with white lettering. 

Director of Black Light Operations-  James Christopher Knight

"Bald Eagle," Ghost spat with venom in his voice. Ghost reached toward the door but I sharply grabbed his wrist. Ghost shot me a glare, his eyes burning.

"We do this carefully and calmly, you have no idea what he's capable of!" Ghost wrenched his hand from my grasp and opened the door. When we stepped inside, I automatically noticed the emptiness. Only an office desk  sat in the middle of the room. The desk's metal black frame was rusted in the corners. A cell phone sat inconspicuously next to a computer mouse. An office chair  was facing opposite of us, the top of a balding man's head poking out over the top. The window at the back of the office showing a breath taking view of the countryside. 

"You'd better be here to tell me good news," the man said, his voice strained and tired. James Christopher Knight a.k.a Bald Eagle, turned around to face us. Small stress wrinkles wore on his forehead matching the snaking blood vessels in his eyes. Ghost and and I threw off our hats and drew our pistols. 

"Yea," Ghost growled "We decided to pay you a visit, Bald Eagle. Or do you prefer Mr. Knight. Now where the hell is Sarah?!" Knight chuckled, his eyes shifting to the door and then back to us.

"You boys sure know how to raise Hell!" Knight shook his head. "If you want to know where Sarah is, ask her yourself." Ghost cocked his head, still pointing the gun at Knights face. The office door clicked open and a familiar face entered, Sarah. She was wearing a dress shirt and and dress slacks, holding a  triumphant smiled on her face. I leveled my weapon at her face, making sure she made no moves. 

"Sarah, what the hell is he talking about?!" Ghost asked his voice unsure. She laughed and shook her head. Knight leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. 

"Let me guess, some agents told you that I had Sarah in custody' and that I was going to 'torture her'. Your more dim than I thought, Ghost. Sarah's been one of my finest agents on this operation. She even had to bust your sorry ass out of a Somali jail just so you could continue your mission." I turned my head to Knight for a moment but quickly looked back to Sarah. 

"I thought I was the only back up asset?!" I growled, a rage burning in my chest. 

"Like we'd trust Thomas's Russian assassin to handle such and operation. You were both supposed to be terminated after Fishner's death anyway. I almost had you too, but you... Reaper...and your helicopter stunt, just had to ruin it. You Russian's always go out for the blood." Sarah scoffed. The truth was falling into place before our eyes.  

The End

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