Hi, me again! here's some action, i loved writing this chapter, it was really fun! Please review!! :D
Two hours later, Yassen stopped the car.
"This'll do," He said, looking out through the window. Wolf stirred at the sound of his voice and opened his eyes, looking around with a slightly bewildered expression on his face. Yassen placed a hand on his good shoulder and held him still until his expression cleared.
"Thanks," Wolf said, half grateful, and half annoyed at being grateful to Yassen Gregorovich. Yassen removed his hand from Wolf's shoulder and shrugged.
"Your arm's bad enough, I don't want to work with someone who can't use one of their arms at all," He said, apparently anxious not to be seen doing something that helped someone else, at least not without a valid reason. Wolf smiled slightly and looked around again.
"Where are we?" he asked slowly, taking in everything he could through the low-set window.
"Exeter," Replied Yassen unhelpfully. He opened his door and stepped out. Wolf did the same and looked around. They looked very similar, both alert and tense, eyes flashing from place to place as they both searched for traps or a hidden sniper. They nodded with satisfaction at the same time, certain that they weren't being watched or followed.
Yassen pulled his small suitcase from the boot and locked the Aston carefully, slightly worried about it. Wolf was standing a few feet away, watching him and he sighed; the younger man really needed some new clothes, he looked ridiculous with his jacket zipped up so tightly in the remarkably mild winter weather.
"Let's go," He said, leading the way into the hotel. He booked two single rooms for the next few nights, paying with one of the dozen cards that SCORIPIA had given him.
"Couldn't they trace it?" Wolf asked in a whisper as they climbed the stairs.
"Yeah, but it won't lead them anywhere. It's registered to Mark Ward, not me,"
"Who's Mark Ward?"
"No idea, probably just some name SCORPIA made up," replied Yassen, shrugging.
Wolf fell silent after that, unsure about what else to say.
"This is your room, I'm just next door," said Yassen suddenly, stopping abruptly in front of a door and tossing a key to Wolf. "Meet me out here in five minutes; you need to get some new stuff. And hide the gun, it's much too obvious."
With that, he turned and let himself into his room. He nudged the door shut with his heel and dropped the suitcase on the floor. Walking quickly to the window, he leant against the frame, keeping out of sight, but making sure that he could see as much as possible. Some instinct told him that someone was outside, somewhere, but his eyes couldn't find any evidence to back it up. All the same, he couldn't be too careful; stepping back from the window, he opened the suitcase and pulled out a variety of weapons; knives and guns foremost among them, but there were others, including a grenade.
Yassen selected two of the knives, stowing one in his boot and the other in his jacket pocket. He pulled an under-arm holster from one of the side pockets and, having strapped it in place, slid his Beretta 92 inside, leaving the top strap off. Finally he tucked his Socom back into the waistband of his jeans and pulled his jacket on again, allowing it to fall over the bulge.
"Ready to go?" He asked a few minutes later as Wolf opened the door.
"Yeah, I'm good," replied Wolf, zipping his jacket up again. Yassen turned and led the way down the stairs again, Wolf following quickly.
They reached the door, and Yassen turned right, guided by some sort of internal compass.
"You know where you're going?" asked Wolf. Yassen shrugged.
"Sort of," He didn't seem to want to elaborate and Wolf let him keep silent.
Within ten minutes, they had reached the city centre. It was packed with early Christmas shoppers and students.
"Here, take this," Yassen said quietly, "Meet me here in half an hour." He pressed a wedge of notes into Wolf's hand and allowed himself to be swept away by the crowd.
Wolf stood still for a second, before walking the other way. His mind buzzed, he had a Yassen-free half hour. Part of him wanted to go back to MI6 and tell them what he knew. But a larger part said that if he wasn't there to meet Yassen, the Russian would add him to the list of people to kill, and Wolf didn't doubt that he would be able to do it.
Sighing, he headed for the shops.
Meanwhile, Yassen was strolling around the town, apparently totally relaxed. But his eyes never strayed far from the reflection of the man a few yards behind him. He had so far followed Yassen through a low-roofed alley, around the entirety of the cathedral green and half way back up the main road. This was the man who Yassen had sensed watching him, but he hadn't realised who it was, as he was the receptionist at the hotel.
The man didn't appear to be armed, but Yassen didn't want to take any chances and he kept his right hand resting on the butt of the Socom in his belt. The other hand was tucked into the pocket containing the knife.
Yassen kept walking around for the remainder of the time before going to meet Wolf. He was dressed in a new T-shirt and jeans, with a brand new jacket tied round his waist. He carried a couple of other bags in his left hand.
"Hi, ready to go?" he asked as soon as he was within earshot of Yassen.
Yassen nodded once, tensely and Wolf was instantly alert. He fell into step beside Yassen as he started back along the road to their hotel.
"What's wrong?" Wolf asked under his breath, his voice barely audible over the sound of the traffic.
"We're being followed," Yassen replied, equally quietly. Wolf didn't look round, but tensed slightly, sliding his hand into his waistband and closing his fist around the butt of his gun, ready for action.
The two men didn't talk again until they reached the hotel. Yassen pushed the door shut behind them, taking the opportunity to size up the man following them. He was in his mid twenties, dark haired and stocky. His jacket was open and Yassen could see the holster strapped to his shoulder.
"He's armed," he muttered, to Wolf, passing him on the stairs and hurrying up to his room. Wolf followed closely, standing at his shoulder as he pulled his suitcase onto the bed and opened it. He pulled a shirt off the top, revealing such an impressive display of weaponry that Wolf couldn't suppress a small gasp. Yassen passed him a couple of knives and another gun.
"We've got to go," he said shortly.
Wolf nodded and walked quickly to the door. He opened it slightly to look up and down the corridor.
"Is it clear?" Yassen asked, snapping the case shut. Wolf shut the door.
"Not exactly," he said hoarsely. Yassen pushed past him and opened it again.
A volley of bullets whipped past his head from one of the black-clad men advancing along the corridor from both directions.
"They found us, then," Wolf said slowly. Yassen snorted; it was a total understatement. "Now what?"
"I don't know, staying alive would be a good plan though," Wolf nodded.
There was a shout from the other side of the door and Wolf automatically threw himself flat on the floor, pulling Yassen down with him. Both men hit the ground hard, driving the breath from their lungs. But they would have been feeling a lot worse if they had remained standing; a second volley of bullets had ripped through the door, shattering the window and reducing the curtains to shreds.
Yassen pulled himself to his feet and glanced at the door, it was riddled with holes, but the men were still on the wrong side. Wolf stood up too, looking the other way.
"The window, come on," he said, moving towards it, his feet crunching on the broken glass on the carpet. He poked his head out, looking down. They were two storeys up, too far to fall and not end up in hospital, but there was a roof opposite them, one floor down and about five metres away from the wall.
"We need to jump," Wolf said, Yassen nodded and looked out as well.
"You first," he said, standing back and reaching for something his pocket. Wolf pulled a face, and lifted himself up onto the windowsill. He gathered himself to jump… and the door was smashed to the floor, admitting five powerfully built black-clad figures. Yassen dropped the small thing he had taken from his pocket and leapt for the window as they raised their guns. Pushing Wolf out into space, he followed with out a second thought, hurling himself out into space.
Behind him, the room exploded in a blaze of fire and shrapnel.