Well, here goes nothing. This is my first Human Target fic.
Hope you like it...
Christopher could feel the exact moment when his humerus snapped. The pain in his right arm caused his feet to fly out from under him, throwing his attacker off balance.
As much as he wanted to stay down, and lick his wounds, he knew that he would get killed if he didn't fight.
"Chance, you alright?" Winston sounded over his earpiece. His tone worried.
Christopher understood that he obviously had let out a cry. He hadn't noticed it himself…
His left fist flew up, and shoved his attacker's nose a few inches back, up inside his skull. Blood splattered all over, but Chance wouldn't have to worry about the man attacking him again.
"The goon broke my arm…"
"Well, that's just perfect… Isn't it?" Chance could hear Winston getting more nervous for him.
"Relax, Winston"
"How bad is it?"
"3"
"Three what?"
"One-to-Ten… THREE" Christopher said over the intercom, well knowing that his arm qualified for a stone-cold SEVEN…
"We can abort the mission you know…"
"Naaaah… Where's the fun in that?"
"Getting you treated, that's the 'fun' in that!"
"It's not even that bad..." he checked his fingers, he couldn't move his elbow, wrist or fingers, but he still felt it when he brushed things up against his fingers. Good sign…
What worried him on the other hand, was the fact that crimson red was staining his grey shirt.
He cussed in his mind, running over to the nearest curtain ripping off a piece that would double as a bandage. Then after securing the make-shift bandage, ripping off a piece that could be either a spare bandage, or a sling. Whatever he needed…
He was so close to finishing this gig. He only needed to take out the person ordering the hit on Thomas Boyle, and he would be done. He could do that with one useless arm…
HT HT HT
Chance sneaked across the hallway, wishing that he could turn off the mike in his radio device. But that would turn the whole piece off, and 'Laverne' would freak.
He just had to remember not to cry out in pain, or cuss out loud or anything…
He closed in on the door he wanted. The one where he knew Richard Frost would be, well, he kinda counted on it…
He kicked up the door, and stood face to nozzle with a magnum .45.
Just the perfect day, huh?
His many years of experience kicked in, and he flung his arms up to disarm the guy.
A growl left his lips as his injured right arm protested loudly.
But hey, he got the gun out of the guy's hands. That was what mattered…
"Chance!" Winston sounded over the intercom.
"You Frost?" Chance asked the business like man, well knowing that; YES, he was Richard Frost.
The guy had the nerve to nod, and Chance cocked him in the head with the butt of the .45, causing one Richard Frost to go straight down.
"Winston, you really need to stop worrying like that… It's bad for your blood pressure!" Chance taunted in a jokingly way.
He could hear Winston sighing, and if Chance were to guess… He would bet that he was shaking his head from side to side, his face buried in one of his hands.
I really hope you enjoyed it.
Let's revive the show in fanfiction, huh?