#20
Fortitude
"Okay boys, haul them in!" Samson ordered.
"Yes sir!" Boomer and Buster saluted, helping some of Samson's men with the crates owned by Dilzweld.
"I'm gonna go see if there's anything else worthwhile."
"Wait, captain! Shouldn't we leave now?! That might be dangerous!" Boomer said.
"I'm a natural. Don't worry, I've got this."
The thief got off the ship and headed back inside the Dilzweld stronghold. As he hid from a few Dilzweld guards passing by, he noticed a room with what seemed to be boxes of arms in them. Realizing this was a good chance to cripple the army even more, Samson snuck in.
Once inside, the thief awed at some of the stuff inside. If they had stolen this, not only would it cripple the army, it'd make this sector useless!
"Time to haul this back to the Fiona!"
"Not so fast," A gun clicked behind Samson. He turned around to see a Dilzweld solider, gun right in his face.
"I found Samson the thief! Sector 33-A, storage room 5!" He called out in his radio. The thief could hear footsteps advancing towards their location.
Samson's face hardened. There was no way he could show fear now.
"Think you got guts to escape, thief?" The solider said.
"I dunno… but lemme ask you a question."
"And what's that?"
Samson pulled out a rose from his jacket and handed it to the solider.
"Think you can run before you fall for me?" He winked.
"I appreciate the flirting, but I have you know I'm engaged-"
Just then, Samson shot. The solider fell to the ground, dead.
"I swear, these Dilzweld soldiers just keep getting soft. Now, to get this outta here…"