Chapter 24- First Assault

John didn't like this plan. He could only imagine how Nick was feeling, but he still didn't like it. He felt constant pulses of adrenaline course through his body as he pulled up behind the tall, sleek, black tower that he had received his missions out of for as long as he could remember. The building had always looked imposing; that's what it was designed for. But, it hadn't ever looked as scary as it did at that moment. "Have you got the bag?" John asked. Nick replied with a solemn nod. "Let's get this over with, then," John sighed.

As they walked through the lot towards the doors, the older fox ran through the plan like he had thousands of times on the long trip there. They were going in wearing trench coats and long hoods- surprisingly common enough for the assassins John had worked with. Once inside, they would slip into a restroom where Nick would undress and get into a large burlap sack. Again, surprisingly still common. From there, it would be a straight shot up to the executive office. Once inside, Nick would spring out of the bag and kill the Boss, while John would take out the two guards inside the room. When the guards outside burst in, the two foxes would easily take them out from the corners. In theory, the plan was simple enough, but so many things could go wrong that John couldn't even focus on one of them. Still, he had faced higher odds before. Like he always did, he steeled his entire being and pushed one of the heavy, black-tinted doors open.

Inside the lobby, it was quiet like usually was. The only sounds came from the feet of the assassins, who treaded lightly by nature, and a few hushed conversations here and there. Mostly everyone was engaged in their own tasks, and the building was not one that most people enjoyed spending their leisure time in. The floors were tiled with large slabs of white granite, which reminded Nick of the hotel that Gazelle had been staging the grisly murders out of in an attempt to get herself noticed. The fox shuddered at the memories that brought up. The walks were paneled with shiny, dark wood and up above, the ceiling was made of an intricate pattern of trusses and steel beams, which all connected to several huge pillars that Nick guessed supported the building.

For the rest of their walk across the lobby, Nick didn't look at anything else for fear of being seen. He kept his head low and followed John intently. While the walk was relatively short, it felt like a death march to him. Ironically, considering the next part of the plan, it was. Near the elevators, in one of the hallways connecting the lobby to the rest of the building, the two ducked into a bathroom while no one was around. As fast as he could, Nick pulled out the big sack from under his layers of clothing and carefully got in it. Once inside, he pulled a submachine gun from its hiding place on his back and fit a clip of rounds into it. When the gun was loaded, he muttered, "ready…" then watched as the sack was closed and felt himself be dragged out of the room and into an elevator.

Nick struggled to keep his breathing silent and his body still along the way. Being dragged was very uncomfortable, and every time John shifted his hand Nick was at risk of moving to balance himself and blowing their cover. Out of the loose stitches of the sack, Nick saw them move down a long, white corridor, with big, elegant doors on the other side. He guessed this was the executive office, and his grip on his gun tightened. The two polar bears looked at him through the sack suspiciously, causing his breath to catch, but the opened the doors regardless. Inside, there was a chair facing a huge window, and four guards instead of two. 'That's wrong, there aren't supposed to be this many,' Nick thought to himself. Suddenly, he heard the doors behind them shut, but couldn't turn his head to see. Terrified as he was, Nick prepared himself to act.

"John Wilde. Didn't think we'd ever see you again, pal," one of the guards said. His voice had a mocking tone that completely threw Nick off balance. He was scared now, more scared than he had been.

"What makes you say that? I've got my mark," Nick heard his father say. "Now where's the Boss?"

"Oh, the Boss couldn't make it today. He sends his apologies… and his condolences."

"Condolences? For what?" John's voice had a hint of fear in it now. Nick was biting his lip.

"You know how we deal with turncoats, Wilde." As one, all of the guards drew their weapons and raised them at the fox. "Nothing personal."

At that point, Nick knew that his father was about to become Swiss cheese. However, the moment he sprang out of the sack, he'd be filled with holes too. As quickly as he could, Nick aimed his gun at the guards threw the sack. He took a deep breath. Memories of the two guards he had killed the night he and Judy had taken down Gazelle flashed before his eyes. His survival instincts pushed them, and all the rest of his fear down. "LIVE!" they screamed at him. "You've got to LIVE!"

Now, freed of hesitation, Nick squeezed the trigger as hard as he could.

In an instant, the sounds of shots rang out, accompanied by the sound of bodies hitting the floor. Nick heard one of the guards struggling for air and spaseming on the ground. He cringed to think of the cold fear and panic the guard must've been in, unable to breath, unable to scream from the hole in his throat as he was choked by his own blood.

"Is it done?" came the muffled call from one of the guards outside the door.

While Nick freed himself of the sack, John pulled out his own gun and answered "Mhmm," as loud as he could, trying to sound like the guard who had spoken. Slowly, both doors opened. Nick poked his head out of the sack in time to see a door guard stick his head into the room to see what had happened. John raised his gun and shot him clean in the forehead. There was no sound, as the pistol had a silencer.

"What the hell?" The other one shouted in surprise. When he stuck his head out to see what had happened to his fellow guard, he was shot in the exact same way.

"Nick, make sure those four are dead, ill search the desk. Hurry."

John sounded urgent, but there was no need to implant a sense of urgency into the younger fox: Nick wanted to get out of there as soon as he could. Still, when he saw the bloody mess he had made of the guards, he felt like he was going to be sick. The smell of blood and death met his nostrils, along with the realization that it was he who had caused this. He had taken their lives.

John saw his son tense up looking at the bodies. "C'mon Nick, stay focused," he said, as comfortingly as he could despite the situation and his nerves.

Nick snapped back to his senses. Looking at the desk from the side that the guards had stood, he saw a blinking red light coming from under the desk. "Uhh, dad… come look at this…" he muttered. John stopped what he was doing and had a look. When he saw the flashing light, however, his face went pale. "What is it? What's that light mean?" Nick asked, hardly able to contain the rising panic in his voice.

"That's the Boss' personal alarm…" John choked.

Frantically, John tore open the drawers in the desk until he found what he was looking for. He pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of something, then threw a book over to Nick. "What's this?" he asked, confused.

"This little book is Boss' planner," John explained. "Or, a backup of his primary. I heard that the Boss always was meticulous about his time and his planners, and this little black book is gonna lead us right to him."

With that, John flew down the hall, Nick close at his heels. However, when they got into the elevator, Nick noticed that John pressed a button labeled BF 2, rather than the star for the lobby. "There's no way we're getting out the way we came thanks to that alarm," John explained as the elevator began to move. "Shame… I'm gonna miss that truck…"

When the elevator doors opened, Nick saw that they were in a huge weapons armory. No one was in it however, probably due to the alarm. There was a sleek, black, armored truck nearby. John ran for it. He jumped into the driver's seat, found the keys laying on the dashboard, then ducked under the wheel and began digging behind a panel.

"Dad? What're you doing?" Nick asked anxiously.

John said nothing, instead sitting back up with a blinking chip in his hand. "Gotta remove the tracker," he grinned. Then, John leapt back out of the truck, opened the cover on the back and made a break for a huge wall of weapons that Nick had surprisingly failed to notice earlier. To make it easier, Nick got in the driver's seat and started the engine, then backed up close to the wall before getting back out and helping his dad. They threw assault rifles, sniper rifles, LMGs, whatever they could find in the bed of the truck. Nick even found a Stinger on its own rack and several of its missiles nearby, and threw them in too. The bed was filled with enough weapons and ammo to arm a small militia by the time they had locked the cover over the back.

Just as Nick had leapt into the passenger's seat, he heard shouting from the other side of the armory. John didn't have time to entire the cab before shots rang out. Thinking quickly, he ducked behind the side of the truck. "Nick! Go for the tunnel on the far side! It'll lead you straight out of here!" He called.

"What?! I'm not leaving you!" came Nick's reply.

"Just do it! I have a plan!"

Nick groaned in frustration, then jumped into the driver's seat and slammed the door shut. He started the truck and waited until he saw his father dive behind a counter, then peeled out and shot towards the tunnel. Unfortunately for the guards, they had come through this tunnel and most of them were still inside of it. Nick saw them panic and start shooting at him, but their bullets just bounced off the truck's armor. There was a sickening bump as Nick plowed through them.

John smiled as he watched his son disappear into the tunnel. He had lied about having a plan, and there were still several well-armed guards in the large room. Despite this, John pulled an assault rifle off of a wall and jammed a clip of ammo into it. He had no intention of breaking his vow to be at his son's wedding yet.

Thankfully for Nick's stomach, there were no more bodies separating him from the end of the tunnel. The path led him out into another tunnel that looked to be a regular road. He drove under an opened garage door, which he guessed the guards had used to get to the armory in the first place. Luckily for him, there was little traffic that late into the evening. Nick sped the truck to speeds he had hardly ever reached in his police cruiser, almost surprised that there weren't a set of flashing lights and sirens on him yet.

Looking back, as he exited the tunnel and the building began to fade into the distance, there was no one on him yet. 'Dad must be doing a good job,' he thought, but a sinking feeling formed in his stomach as he realized his father wasn't anywhere to be seen either.

Suddenly, his mirrors flashed brightly. Looking behind him, Nick almost screamed when he saw the tunnel explode and bellow smoke and flame. The fox was his vision blur with tears as he faced the road before him and sped onward. "Thanks, Dad…" he whispered.