The sound of the outside explosion, although muffled, was still impressively loud. Out of the three people in the warehouse, only one reacted almost hysterically to the sound of the explosion. Unlike Aiden and Hayley, Angela Balik was not conditioned to react under pressure. She did the only thing available to her, she started to cry.

Hayley spared a brief, exasperated look towards Angela's crying form, before grabbing her phone to angle one of the outside cameras. No sign of them. The men had already breached the perimeter and were advancing towards the warehouse. Hayley saw a slight tremor go through the hand holding the phone. She didn't know if it was the cold or her nerves. Probably both. Pressing another button Hayley was transferred to another camera. At this angle she could see the aftermath of the explosion.

She zoomed in, and then wished she hadn't. A few men lay on the ground, one without an arm. Roughly a hundred feet from their position the fixers had encountered Aiden's pressure sensitive explosive. He had them around the entry points of the buildings. At whatever angle the fixers converged on the buildings, they would not have been able to bypass the devices. Aiden had de-activated them before they entered the building, reactivating them once they were all inside. Now they served as both a deterrent and to buy them some time.

Aiden had barely even glanced up at the sound, but continued to tap away on his phone. Hayley on the other hand, while not as unconcerned as Aiden, did jump slightly before pulling her gun out, an M8-8 semi-automatic pistol. The grip was comfortingly familiar, it was one of her own weapons she'd had custom made. It had cost her a small fortune, as she'd asked for a chrome finish and increased cartridge capacity. It was a high powered weapon, very accurate, and one of the few semi-automatic pistols on the market. Hayley manually loaded the chamber of her weapon by pulling back and releasing the slide mechanism. The pockets of her black cargo pants held extra ammo and a few grenades.

Before the meeting, Hayley remembered being faintly amused with what seemed to her like excessive counter measures employed by Aiden. Now, she wasn't amused and was grateful for the bullet proof vest he had made her wear, and the extra ammo he had shoved at her. She was certainly going to need them now.

When she looked up, Aiden had turned his back on Angela and was stalking towards her, gun in one hand, phone in the other. He wasn't looking at her; he was watching the progress of the men on the screen. He stopped in front of her and looked up from his phone. The unchecked fury emanating from his gaze was a sight to behold. There was something cold and almost predatory in the way his eyes glinted like ice being chipped away from a block. Even knowing it wasn't aimed at her, Hayley nonetheless felt a ripple of unease.

Aiden broke eye contact, his gaze traveling over her, lingering on the weapon in her hand, before coming back to settle on her face. When he made eye contact with her again, that fury had been tampered down and something akin to eager anticipation now lurked there. She had no idea what her own expression showed, but it certainly wasn't eagerness.

Having assured himself she was battle ready, Aiden turned around, but stopped abruptly. "Where's Angela?" he asked.

Peeking around him, she saw that Angela had disappeared. She let out a string of expletives which did not paint Angela in a particularly good light.

"Fuck her," Hayley shrugged even as she heard the distant sound of metal scraping. Angela had fled further into the warehouse and was most likely finding out the other warehouse doors had been welded shut. There were only two ways out, one she would have no idea about.

_/_I_/_

Aiden watched as the fixers outside regrouped after the explosion. He'd thinned a few of their ranks, now he needed to tip the balance further in his favour. Minimising the camera feed, his thumb lingered over the app which would jam communications. He pressed it. Reloaded the camera feed and waited.

The fixers were still a few feet away from the warehouse but closing in fast. He scrutinized the group. One of them lifted his hand and spoke into his headset. The camera feed didn't have audio but he realized that whoever was after him had anticipated he would try and cut their means of communication. They were obviously on their own frequency, something he could eventually access, but it would take time, which he didn't have.

"Let's go," he growled at Hayley, his voice sounding rough even to his own ears.

He stalked off, not unaware of the concerned looks Hayley was shooting his way, but it wasn't his biggest concern right now. He had his own escape route and it didn't involve venturing outside to meet the dozens of heavily armed men.

Aiden grabbed his phone again, watching as the fixers filed into the warehouse. He hadn't know whether it was Blume or DedSec after him, but now that he had a better look he was leaning towards the latter. If Blume had found him they would send more than just a few dozen fixers. He could expect Blume to throw everything they had at him. No, this was DedSec who was after him.

A group entered the building, leaving others outside to surround the building. Aiden felt a smile stretch over his face. They thought to corner him, flush him out. In a moment of incongruous amusement, it occurred to him that hunters often try and scare foxes out of their dens so that they can then shoot them after they come bursting out. Fortunately, this particular fox had a few tricks up his sleeve and would not venture out so easily.

Using the camera he'd installed above the inside of the warehouse, near the door, he allowed a certain number of fixers to enter the building. He pressed a button on his phone and watched as the metal door slammed shut behind them. The fixers turned around in obvious alarm, guns raised. One guy went to the door, gripped the handle and pulled. The door didn't budge. They wouldn't get the door open now unless he wanted it open.

The men hesitated briefly, conversing in their headsets with their team outside. They looked unnerved, hesitant. Good. He now had a psychological edge over them. Aiden watched as they split up, before pocketing the phone. The warehouse was far too large to have installed cameras for every possible angle.

Aiden looked over to Hayley, tension practically leaked out of her, encompassing the small space they occupied. No trace of fear was evident in her face; she was poised and ready for action. Usually preferring to work alone, he had no doubt that Hayley could hold her own, enough so that worry for her safety would not be a concern.

Silently, they separated as per their pre-arranged plan. Winding his way around the mechanical graveyard, he wondered what DedSec hoped to gain by sending fixers after him. They had to know he'd retaliate after this. He couldn't let an attack like this go; it could set a dangerous precedent for any future adversaries that hoped to take him down. In any case, DedSec needed to be made an example of.

Grabbing his phone, Aiden accessed an app which would help identify the location of the fixers. All cell phones constantly broadcast a signal, even when not being used. So with GPS technology now commonplace in smartphones, the location of anyone carrying a GPS enabled smartphone can be accurately tracked at any time. To take advantage of this, all Aiden had to do was code an app to piggyback off the GPS signal to identify the signals being given off by phones in the immediate area. Once he had the signal locked on, it was easy to follow their progress. It worked well in situations where cameras weren't available.

A few seconds later and red dots appeared on his screen, signalling the fixers' location. Not every fixer might be carrying a phone so he had to be careful of blind spots. One fixer was close. He pressed himself against the nearest machine and waited. A fixer was walking away from his position. Holstering his weapon, he silently stalked the fixer. Baton extended, he crept closer. Once he judged he was the correct distance away he acted. In a blur of motion Aiden swung his baton at the fixer's legs, crushing the stick into the fleshy part of his calf muscle. The fixer went down immediately, and he crashed his baton onto the top of his head. A sickening crunch signified he'd probably used a little too much force. Either way he wasn't getting up any time soon.

He left him where he was, on the grease stained floor. Aiden was moving away from the fixer when he heard the sound of approaching footsteps. Rounding the corner, Aiden swore softly to himself. Huge crates blocked his way through. Going over them wasn't an option. He'd make too much noise. The only other way out was back where he'd come from, and that was now blocked by an approaching fixer.

Pulling out his gun, Aiden realised he'd have to take the other fixer out before he approached his position. Leaning down so that he was crouched against the side of a rather large piece of machinery, he watched as the fixer warily approached his fallen comrade. He kept his weapon up and swivelled slowly, trying to identify where the threat might come from. He didn't bend down to check on the status of his teammate.

Stepping over his teammate, the fixer continued his slow walk towards him. From his position, Aiden was able to track the fixer's progress through a gap in the machinery. Unfortunately, the fixer didn't turn around, didn't give him time to get a shot in while he was looking elsewhere. Aiden allowed him to approach to within a few feet before he stepped out.

The fixer had his weapon pulled slightly to the side, as was his body, so he didn't immediately see when Aiden stepped out. It was flawless, if unintentional timing. In quick succession, Aiden sent two short bursts into the fixer's head. The guy's head jerked back like someone had implanted a claw into the back of his head and pulled violently. Even in the poor light Aiden was able to see the spray of blood and brain matter eject from the back of his head.

The sound of the gunfire echoed loudly and ominously throughout the warehouse. Almost as soon as the fixer's body hit the ground Aiden, was crouch running down the walkway. He used his phone to orientate himself with the other fixer's positions. The small red dots were moving in his direction. He just had time to pocket his phone and duck into cover as a hail of gunfire pinged off the rusted appliance behind him. He ran, trying to use the almost maze-like jumble of machinery and crates to lose his pursuers.

Despite the cold, sweat had begun to form and was now running down his back. Stopping briefly within the shadows, the muted sounds of murmured voices drifted around him. Sound travelled differently within the warehouse, it bounced off the metal machines, making it difficult to correctly gauge distances. A crackle of static from a headset could be heard not that far away. It was impossible to tell how far. Either way, that was why he would never wear any type of tactical headset. It was too distracting, and in this instance, the noise they emitted provided a heads up as to their location. His muscles were taut as we waited, ears strained to pick up the slightest sound.

There. The faint, but distinguishable sound of footsteps. He didn't hesitate. He stepped out from the shadows and opened fire on the two fixers standing in the open. He saw the jerk of their bodies as his bullets hit home. A third was lurking in the background, and opened fire on him. Quickly, he ducked behind a wooden crate. The sound of splintering wood and the pinging of bullets urged him to move. He heard heavy footsteps behind; they weren't trying to hide their movements, but actively trying to nail him.

The jumble of machinery became a hindrance rather than an aid. He couldn't risk looking at his phone, but he also couldn't keep running blindly, hoping he didn't run into a fixer. He could still hear sounds of pursuit. And getting closer. Maybe. Sweat was now forming on his forehead. A creeping sensation was crawling up his spine. Someone was behind him. He turned his head slightly; saw a bunch of fixers in his periphery. They opened fire; bullets could be heard pinging around him, but luckily none managed to hit him

He kept running, dashing around piles of scrap metal. The fixers were still dangerously close. Veering into a walkway, he faltered. Ahead, it looked like a dead end. He couldn't go back. A small sliver of panic crept its way into his throat. Until he got closer and spotted a small opening below some pipes. Running straight ahead it would look like to anyone else watching he was going to run straight into the metal grating. At the last possible moment he angled his body and slid below a series of pipes, his momentum propelling him under the small space into a different area.

The group of fixers approached where he had disappeared. Their mistake. Rolling to his feet, in one smooth movement he retrieved a grenade from inside his jacket, pulled the pin and rolled it under the opening.

A surge of satisfaction coursed through him as he heard the panicked shouts as the fixers spotted the rolling object. Not waiting to see the end result, he jogged off. Unlike the last explosion, the sound of this one was excessively loud in the confined space. Even behind thick piping he felt the blast of the grenade.

The silence of the aftermath was broken only by the occasional groaning sound of an injured fixer. But that too ceased abruptly. A slight scuffing sound alerted Aiden he hadn't taken out every fixer. Using his phone's app, Aiden was able narrow in on the fixer's location. Moving towards him, Aiden could see that the guy was young, barely in his twenties, and looked pale and nervous. As he should. Aiden had just eliminated quite a few of his colleagues. The young guy held the grip of his weapon too tightly and obviously didn't have the same level of training as his associates. He made one big mistake. He never checked his flank.

Aiden easily shadowed the young guy's movements, following behind him until he saw an opening to take him out. As the young fixer turned to the left, Aiden launched himself at him, bringing his baton down hard on the back of his neck. The guy stumbled forward, giving Aiden a brief, uninterrupted view of another fixer standing roughly a dozen feet away.

Shit, the fixer obviously wasn't carrying a phone with him, so his app hasn't picked up his presence. He'd acted too confidently, impulsively taking the young guy down without scoping the area first. The angle was bad too. Until he'd walked into the open, he'd been unable to see the fixer further down because he'd been momentarily screened behind a large crate.

As the young guy in front of him stumbled forward, Aiden was able to see the fixer's shocked expression. The fixer further down overcame his shock quickly, bringing his weapon up to sight him as the young guy in front of him righted himself. Aiden's quick actions saved his life. In a few swift steps, he grabbed the young guy in front of him and held him flush up against him as the fixer further down opened fire. Aiden heard the young guy emit a series of pained grunts as the bullets slammed into his body.

A brief lull in the firing had Aiden pushing the body of the young guy forward, so that he could raise his own weapon. Firing rapidly, bullets crashed into the unprotected parts of the fixer's body. The fixer had stepped further into the open, thinking to finish Aiden off since he had no time to get to cover. What he didn't anticipate was how Aiden would use his young colleague as a human shield. Or maybe he did and didn't care. Either way once the fixer's cartridge clicked empty, Aiden didn't give him to time to reload. He emptied his clip into the guy, a deadly focus overtaking him.

It was often like this for Aiden. The adrenaline surge he felt while fighting was almost addictive in its intensity. Pitting himself against a foe, fighting for the precious thing called life was exhilarating. He recognised that it wasn't exactly a healthy outlet for the restlessness he often felt, but it nonetheless made him feel alive.

Reloading another clip into his gun, Aiden backed into cover. He waited. No further sounds reached his ears. But still, he waited a little longer. Another fixer could hang back, waiting for him to emerge, then try and take him out. He doubted they'd stay still this long; he'd taken out enough of the fixers for any left to feel nervous about staying immobile for any period of time. But he nevertheless decided to remain cautious. His heartbeat was returning to its normal rhythm, but the adrenaline was still snaking its way around his body. It felt good. His drug of choice.

His thoughts turned to Hayley. He had heard no gunfire from her position. But he couldn't be sure considering the last few minutes he'd been unable to hear anything beyond the sound of gunfire reverberating from his own position. A sliver of worry shot through him. Had something happened to Hayley?

His breathing was a still a bit heavy. He'd never been short of breath before. As Aiden straightened up, pain sliced through him. The adrenaline had covered the pain, but now that he was moving, the discomfort became known. He winced as he identified where the pain originated from. His lower right side. Just below where his bullet proof vest ended. He wore the vest under his jumper. It was custom made to fit his body. It was streamlined, thinner than most vests, which allowed for more freedom of movement. Unfortunately, sometime during the frenzied moments of the last few minutes, he'd been hit.

Already blood was soaking through his clothing. He lifted his sweater to see the extent of the wound. Luckily, the bullet had just grazed him, taking a chunk of skin off and digging in more than he'd like, but it wasn't life threatening. He was bleeding steadily, but the wound itself wouldn't kill him. He shrugged the pain off. After all, pain didn't hold the same level of fear for him that it did others. It was something he'd come to accept as his penance, was even something he appreciated. Not in a way that made him a sadist. Pain meant you were still alive. Battered, bruised and bleeding maybe, but you'd come out better than the other guy lying in front of you with his head blown off.

A slight wince was the only concession he allowed as he set off towards the rendezvous point. His most immediate problem was Hayley, who hadn't answered the brief text he sent her.

_/_I_/_

When Hayley had separated from Aiden, she had jogged off with more than a little apprehension churning in her gut. Fear buzzed around her head like a persistent bee. And just like a bee it was prone to sting her at the most inopportune times.

Shrugging those thoughts off, she began to take note of her surroundings. The warehouse was huge, filled with old, rusted machinery and shadowed niches which she realized she could use to her advantage. Hayley looked around for a good place to conceal herself. Her plan was to use stealth rather than an all-out fire fight. As soon as she saw the alcove she knew it would be a perfect place to await the men coming after her.

There was enough light for darkness to not totally permeate the warehouse, creating shadows which were perfect for stealthy takedowns. She planned to pick the men off one by one. Tucked into an alcove, Hayley waited until she heard someone approach. She was so well concealed that the fixer had no idea she was there as he passed her.

She extracted herself from the alcove and silently approached him. Since he was taller she couldn't use a choke hold on him until he was her height. So she kicked the back of his knee, where his tibial nerve was located. The pain would have been intense.

The fixer choked out a surprised gasp before he stumbled forward. She quickly wrapped her arm around his neck, cutting off his airway. He was well-trained though, so despite his initial surprise he quickly reacted, trying to bring his elbow up into her ribs. He didn't have enough space to manoeuver as his back was pressed tightly against her chest. His struggles lost momentum as the hold caused him to lose consciousness within a few seconds. Hayley held on a few more seconds before lowering him to the floor. She dragged him into the alcove she had recently vacated.

Gun held in front of her, Hayley moved quietly and cautiously past a few piles of metal. It was eerily quiet. Besides the sound of her own breathing, the faint ticking of metal settling in the cold, and the fain rustle of the wind was all she heard. The sound of bullets further down the warehouse shattered the silence. The sound came from Aiden's position. She swallowed, or tried to, her mouth was extremely dry.

Hayley peeked around the corner. The long walkway showed no sign of anyone. Still wary, she stepped away from the corner but stopped one step into the walkway. At almost the exact same moment as she stepped out, a man rounded the corner at the end of the walkway. Both seemed startled to see the other because for a few long heartbeats they did nothing but stare at each other. Time seemed to come to a crawl. It reminded her of an industrial Mexican standoff.

In that moment, everything sharpened for Hayley. The moonlight slanting from the window above became as bright as that from a lighthouse. The machines around her seemed to close in on her, almost becoming a tunnel angling towards the man at the other end. Hayley could see the surprise in the guy's expression when he saw her. For Hayley it felt like incredibly bad timing for them both to step out at the same time. She had one thought, 'so much for stealth', before she witnessed the surprise drain from the guy's face, replaced by determination. In that same instance time seemed to snap back to its normal pace.

Adrenaline surged through her veins as she watched the guy in front raise his semi-automatic rifle. Hayley felt her legs move before she even registered the command sent to her brain. Hayley raised her own gun and pulled the trigger, the recoil operation of the handgun automatically extracting and ejecting the shell casing to reload the chamber. Since they raised their weapons almost simultaneously both fired off shots which hit their targets.

Hayley was in the process of launching herself to other side, trying to dive to cover. Her first bullet hit the guy's chest, but since he also wore a bullet-proof vest, he merely staggered backwards. Her second bullet must have missed, but the third clipped his neck. Hayley saw blood explode from his neck before she felt a bullet dig into the side of her vest. Because she was launching herself sideways, the momentum of the shot pulled her further off course so that she smashed into a piece of machinery rather than clear it.

Pain burst in her shoulder as she ploughed into a sharp metal corner. Hayley felt herself fall onto the hard concrete, grunting as her head hit the floor. She lay there gasping, for the bullet which had dug into her vest had partially winded her. Aware of the prime target she presented lying there gasping on the floor; she was unable to get her body to obey her commands. Her shoulder ached terribly from the impact, and she couldn't seem to catch her breath. Eventually, she scrambled to a sitting position, her shoulder protesting. Cursing, because she'd lost her gun in the fall, she frantically searched the floor. Spotting it, it was wedged under a container; she knelt down to retrieve it. Only to turn around, stand up and freeze with a paralysing fear.

A few feet away was a man with a gun pointing at her. Terror lodged itself in her throat making it hard to breath. Inexplicably, Hayley identified the type of weapon pointed at her, ready to deal death. A UMP.45. There was no way she'd have time to raise her weapon before he fired. She knew that instinctively. He hadn't fired yet, but he was close to it. His finger was coiled around the trigger; she could see the dark blue of his eyes as he sighted her down the rifle. Panic gripped her stomach, making her feel like eels slithered around her insides.

The guy lent into the rifle and fired.

8