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#1 Evidence
The hype of the battle had stopped for a while now. The forecast of raining bullets and missiles had long ceased and the air had stopped smelling suspiciously of what could only be burnt human flesh cooked to a crisp. Even the Scout had taken a break and was now reclining himself atop a wooden crate, admiring and presenting his flexed bicep to a non-existent crowd. All that could be heard, aside from Scout's marvelling at the beauty that was his arm, was the beeping from the sentry and Engi's wrench giving it a scheduled whack. It was almost... peaceful. So peaceful that Sniper's shoulders reclined from their haunched position and he allowed himself the chance to lean his head back, and away from his rifle's scope.
"Nowhere near done yet." Mumbled the Aussie to himself, heaving a burdened sigh.
"I'm afraid not, mon ami."
"Wha-"
Sniper sprung to his feet and span himself to face the bearer of the voice, but in his state of shock, managed to topple his coffee flask over with muzzle of his gun.
"God- Bloody hell- When did you?! How did you-"
"How did I get in?" The figure came into view and much to Sniper's dismay (although he could have already guessed it), it was the enemy Spy. "But of course with great ease. There's this thing called a door, you see..."
"Spare me the lesson, Spook." He growled back, Kukri already in a firm grasp, stance rigid and at the ready for combat.
"Now, 'ow could I possibly do that when you have such appalling manners?" Spy tutted, not looking the least bit threatened at the Sniper's defences. Instead, the bastard simply proceeded to fish out one of his oh-so-Frenchie cigarettes, other hand ready to light it. But before the cancer stick could meet its igniter, Sniper had swiftly launched forward and sliced the cancer-causer clean in half.
A look of mild irritation crossed over the Spy's features and his eyes narrowed at the Aussie. Nobody got between the master of Espionage and his cigarettes. After-all, he needs those narrow things to look dark and mysterious.
But before Spy could supply yet another lecture to his ill-mannered rival, Sniper hadn't even waited another moment to launch forward once again with his knife. Had Spy been focussing more on his cigarettes, it would have successfully connected with his tailored Armani suit.
Another strike, but with the absence of distraction, Spy managed to intercept Sniper's wrist before the blade landed a deadly blow. However, Sniper's determination was iron-clad and he pushed forward with his weight, growling more words of abuse.
"Calm-toi, mon ami." Spy pronounced with a hint of alarm, grasping the wrist in his hold just a little firmer. Before Sniper could spit back a retort about them not being mates, a poof of smoke surrounded the enemy Spy and as it dissipated, an identical team colour was revealed on the Spy's suit.
A few moments of stunned silence passed them. Then, when Sniper's brain kicked back into gear- "Wait, that was just you the whole time?!"
Spy untangled himself from the combative stance he had engaged and with an irritant 'tsch', swept off the dirt on his suit that wasn't at all there.
"I had to make sure you were at your highest guard. And from what I've seen so far..." A well-groomed brow on the French-man lifted ever so slightly as his gaze indicated the mess of a struggle Sniper had made, eyeing the spilled coffee with particular stress.
A sheepish look etched itself on the marksman's face in return. However, it was short-lived and soon replaced with an indignant expression. "Don't you have anything better to do, ye' bloody Frog?"
"If I managed to penetrate your defences so easily without even trying, Snipeur, what I do with my time is not of yours to worry about." This time, one of his cigarettes survived long enough to be ignited and, after a sweet, long drag, the Frenchmen blew yet another cloud of smoke into his comrade's face. And with that done, 'Spook' decided to take a dramatic exit.
