The Alpha
By Adam Morgan
Back Outside
Agent King had been after the Alpha for a few months, chasing their rarely available signals. His suit was like all the others, sharp, uncreased, his earpiece half dangling over his shoulder. His shades revealing nothing of the deep unchanged eyes behind them. His face clam and controlled between the masses of jumping, worried faces. A voice crackled in his ear; Roberts had seen the broken wall and was coming back down. In three seconds, Roberts was there, replacing the SWAT officer who was preparing his Benelli to King's left. Normally, an Agent would not try this, the crowds would see, questions would be asked, but this was too good to be true. They had the captain of the Alpha, one of the most notorious rebels going, trapped in a building, with the information of their next target, if they could stop them getting to someone else, it would all be worthwhile, and killing the captain of a ship would be an added bonus. But the Agents' faces hid their enthusiasm, their programming forbade it.
Angel was in another cold room, the door tight shut, a small rotting sofa standing in front of it, a make shift lock was all he had. He glanced anxiously over the window frame, if anything there was more activity than before. Secondary units prepared their weapons, two floors below, the cars lights brightly spinning, sending awkward shadows across the wall, the hum of activity as the residents of the building were rounded up and out of the building. He could hear Policemen walking up and down the corridors, collecting people from their rooms as the SWAT teams prepared a second sweep. Clapping his hands on the window sill, he looked for a possible escape, he was certain he could make it to the car on the far side of the road, it was empty and lead straight off into the road where he could make a turn for Hutts and Feld. He could see the butt of the Shotgun between the front seats, he shouldn't need it.but if he did, at least it was there. He thought for a minute, pacing the room, acknowledging all possibilities, the agents wouldn't see him if he jumped over them. If he focused, and remembered he could do it.he would make it.
*************
King was still anxious and threw questioning looks at Roberts, who was beginning to doubt that their target was still in the building.
'They found no one.'
'He's in there.I know it.' Roberts took one last scan of the building before turning round to silence King. 'These men found nothing because they are useless.he'll be here. He can't get out any other way, we have men on all exits.'
'But he got through your first team alright,', a hint of satisfaction in his voice as he saw he was right. Roberts frowned; looking past Kings shades and sensing his fear.
'Just.wait.' A strong pause between the words, his voice hiding his doubt. He didn't look back at the building, he instead stepped in the direction of one of the vans that was filled with men preparing themselves for the sweep, if he had turned he would have seen the captain of the Alpha recoiling at the sight of the two agents that lay at his escape root. He could hear the cops walking back up the corridors, a final check on the door before they knocked it down, just in case. His mind racing, he decided on the route, walking back as far as he could go without stepping on the furniture that stood at the door, he pressed his back against a disgusting, rotting sofa. He shut his eyes and whispered to himself.
Knock, knock. As the cold hands hit the door, the Alpha captain was gone, fist first out of the window, his legs trailing behind straightening out for a second, clipping the frame as they flew past. For a moment, he was horizontal in mid-air, his head shut off behind his arms, resting in his shoulders before he threw his arms down, almost across the street, flying over the lights, the yells and threw his legs around into a somersault. His feet pounded into the wall, separated to control his landing, he stood on the vertical wall before springing back out, bullets zipping past him as he launched himself into a back flip, his body in a ball over a SWAT van, the air rushing behind him as he crashed down, his feet slipping on the metal, onto a Police Cars bonnet. He rolled over, firing at two police men with his last Beretta, before tumbling into the seat, his impact shattering the window showering a confetti of glass into the front seats of the empty car.
He fumbled awkwardly for the wheel, slamming his foot on the accelerator, the agents coming around the corner of the blue van, their guns raised, their eyes widening as they saw the car, spin off to the corner, retrieving bullets to the back windows and trunk. Angel barely had time to pull hard on the wheel, he was fumbling for the shotgun, setting it by his side as he rolled off the road, knocking a Postal Box's contents all over the window and into the car. A shower of blue, red and white fell in the car. He could hear only the enormous revving of the engine, a wild animal that he was controlling, spinning dangerously around the road.
By Adam Morgan
Back Outside
Agent King had been after the Alpha for a few months, chasing their rarely available signals. His suit was like all the others, sharp, uncreased, his earpiece half dangling over his shoulder. His shades revealing nothing of the deep unchanged eyes behind them. His face clam and controlled between the masses of jumping, worried faces. A voice crackled in his ear; Roberts had seen the broken wall and was coming back down. In three seconds, Roberts was there, replacing the SWAT officer who was preparing his Benelli to King's left. Normally, an Agent would not try this, the crowds would see, questions would be asked, but this was too good to be true. They had the captain of the Alpha, one of the most notorious rebels going, trapped in a building, with the information of their next target, if they could stop them getting to someone else, it would all be worthwhile, and killing the captain of a ship would be an added bonus. But the Agents' faces hid their enthusiasm, their programming forbade it.
Angel was in another cold room, the door tight shut, a small rotting sofa standing in front of it, a make shift lock was all he had. He glanced anxiously over the window frame, if anything there was more activity than before. Secondary units prepared their weapons, two floors below, the cars lights brightly spinning, sending awkward shadows across the wall, the hum of activity as the residents of the building were rounded up and out of the building. He could hear Policemen walking up and down the corridors, collecting people from their rooms as the SWAT teams prepared a second sweep. Clapping his hands on the window sill, he looked for a possible escape, he was certain he could make it to the car on the far side of the road, it was empty and lead straight off into the road where he could make a turn for Hutts and Feld. He could see the butt of the Shotgun between the front seats, he shouldn't need it.but if he did, at least it was there. He thought for a minute, pacing the room, acknowledging all possibilities, the agents wouldn't see him if he jumped over them. If he focused, and remembered he could do it.he would make it.
*************
King was still anxious and threw questioning looks at Roberts, who was beginning to doubt that their target was still in the building.
'They found no one.'
'He's in there.I know it.' Roberts took one last scan of the building before turning round to silence King. 'These men found nothing because they are useless.he'll be here. He can't get out any other way, we have men on all exits.'
'But he got through your first team alright,', a hint of satisfaction in his voice as he saw he was right. Roberts frowned; looking past Kings shades and sensing his fear.
'Just.wait.' A strong pause between the words, his voice hiding his doubt. He didn't look back at the building, he instead stepped in the direction of one of the vans that was filled with men preparing themselves for the sweep, if he had turned he would have seen the captain of the Alpha recoiling at the sight of the two agents that lay at his escape root. He could hear the cops walking back up the corridors, a final check on the door before they knocked it down, just in case. His mind racing, he decided on the route, walking back as far as he could go without stepping on the furniture that stood at the door, he pressed his back against a disgusting, rotting sofa. He shut his eyes and whispered to himself.
Knock, knock. As the cold hands hit the door, the Alpha captain was gone, fist first out of the window, his legs trailing behind straightening out for a second, clipping the frame as they flew past. For a moment, he was horizontal in mid-air, his head shut off behind his arms, resting in his shoulders before he threw his arms down, almost across the street, flying over the lights, the yells and threw his legs around into a somersault. His feet pounded into the wall, separated to control his landing, he stood on the vertical wall before springing back out, bullets zipping past him as he launched himself into a back flip, his body in a ball over a SWAT van, the air rushing behind him as he crashed down, his feet slipping on the metal, onto a Police Cars bonnet. He rolled over, firing at two police men with his last Beretta, before tumbling into the seat, his impact shattering the window showering a confetti of glass into the front seats of the empty car.
He fumbled awkwardly for the wheel, slamming his foot on the accelerator, the agents coming around the corner of the blue van, their guns raised, their eyes widening as they saw the car, spin off to the corner, retrieving bullets to the back windows and trunk. Angel barely had time to pull hard on the wheel, he was fumbling for the shotgun, setting it by his side as he rolled off the road, knocking a Postal Box's contents all over the window and into the car. A shower of blue, red and white fell in the car. He could hear only the enormous revving of the engine, a wild animal that he was controlling, spinning dangerously around the road.
