"A Suit A Gun And A Bottle Of Jack"

Day 10 - 21:03:24

Agent Max Carter

Unassigned/terminated FBI

Moscow - Marriott Hotel suite 201

Max stood leaning against the wall as the two snipers organized their gear. " Im gonna miss this gun" The one named Toad said. The other one Archer threw the rifle in the bag " Well I wont brought me nothing but trouble" "Guys I don't know if you care but we really need to go through this plan" Max said holding their fake passports in his hand. "What's to go over we walk in the terminal get through the security hop on a plane and hopefully get off at Mexico International airport" Max walked over and sat on a bed "why Mexico again". "Because mate their gonna be expecting us to show up in the UK or in the US". The agent rubbed the back of his neck "I am so fired" he thought. Archer walked forward and pulled a bottle of liquor out of a brown paper bag. "well gents lets celebrate possibly the last night alive in our lives" "hear hear" the other sniper came back from the kitchen carrying three shot glasses. They sat down at a table and Archer poured them all a drink. Toad and Archer downed the shots whole but when Max sat there looking expectantly at the clock on the wall Toad spoke up " You gonna drink or what"? "Oh I don't drink" Max replied. A chorus of laughter broke out between the two snipers. But when they quieted down and the agent was still staring at them. "Your serious huh" Archer said. "never touched a drop and I don't want to" Max said. Toad grabbed the bottle and poured another round of shots for them. "It might be our last chance" Archer shook the bottle. Max nodded "fine just because" he drained the shot glass and grimaced at the whiskey made its way down his throat the bitterness and war feeling in his stomach setting in. The snipers laughed at his discomfort. "want another" Toad offered the bottle and the agent poured another shot immediately drinking it in a gulp. "hahaha he might even out drink you Toad" Archer laughed. "now you know that shit wont happen" His partner replied grabbing the bottle and taking a long pull on it swaying in his seat.

" Hung-over"

Day 11 - 07:10:12

SSG Mike 'Archer' Wallace

Ex Task Force 141/ War Criminal

Moscow - Marriott Hotel suite 201

Archer groaned his head pulsating with pain as he pulled himself off the couch, he turned and walked into the bathroom he turned on the water and splashed some water on his face he grabbed a suit hanging from a hanger on the towel rack. He pulled don the suit in corresponding order "Christ I haven't worn a suit sense high school prom" he thought . He checked the pockets his fake passport wallet with also fake identification. A groan emanated from the shower and he turned remembering the events that happened last night. He pulled open the curtain to see Toad laying against the shower wall covered in his own puke. "Morning sleeping beauty", "ugh what's going on" Toad stirred. "You got shitfaced…now wash off we have to catch a plane" He reached in and grabbed the shower handle and turned the shower on full blast showering his friend in cold water " HOLY SHIT! YOU ASSHOLE" Archer left the room to the curses of his friend.. The door opened and he turned to see Agent Carter come in carrying a plastic bag. "that for me" Carter nodded and tossed him a bagel. Archer took a bite stifling his somewhat grumbling stomach. The door slammed open and they turned to see Toad stumble out in a wrinkled suit and still somewhat drunk from last night "you…are a dick" He said to his partner.

They stepped out of the taxi and walked through the doors of Zakahav International Airport. "Wow…they cleaned up nice" Agent Carter said looking around remembering the massacre the news portrayed. "All right, from here on we are Londoners here on business…Carter hope you have a good British accent.

"More Loose Ends"

Day 12 - 12:56:01

Maj. Anderson

U.S Army Black Ops

Washington DC

Anderson excused himself politely form the secretary of defense and walked outside to his personal vehicle as to make sure no bugs could here what was about to be said. He turned on the radio to classical symphony and turned the volume down. His hands shaking slightly with rage he lit a hand rolled sweet Cuban cigar trimming both ends with his cutter he took a puff holding it for a moment… then exhaled. The shaking in his hands stopped. HE had taken over shepherds position and all of the shit he left unhandled. He flipped open his cell phone and dialed a number. "why are they still alive" he asked calmly. "Sir we have managed to track them to a Moscow airport". Anderson stubbed out the cigar "where are they headed". " well sir we think they are going to the u.s but there are also planes heading to Colombia the UK and Mexico". "I want a platoon of your best men sent to each location we will make no more mistakes…these men will die". "Yes sir right away" Anderson slumped back in his seat "this will all be over soon" he thought