Xena the Warrior Princess
"AGENT UNDER FIRE, REQUEST REINFORCEMENTS!" shouts Hope on her phone, from behind a car full of bullet holes.
As soon as the first shot sounded, she rolled herself behind a parked Ford Focus, and for the last five minutes she was in a shootout with one or several shooters. Between shots, she would throw a glance at her one hundred dollar shoes, and its broken heel, which literally had saved her life.
More shots are heard, and she shoots back.
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"Sir, you have a concussion, you have to go to a hospital," insists the paramedic to Matt, who has a gash in his forehead and a broken wrist, and who is insisting to leave without boarding the ambulance.
"No, you don't understand!" he is getting mad at the paramedic, who is wasting his precious time, time he doesn't have. "THIS WAS A PLANNED ATTACK, THEY ARE GOING AFTER MY GIRLFRIEND, AND HER BROTHER, AND I HAVE TO LEAVE NOW!" he shouts at the paramedic, who insists he boards the ambulance.
A police officer who had responded to the accident approaches them, "is there a problem here?"
"He's refusing to board the bus, he's saying that this was planned," says the paramedic, thinking that this guy is just hysterical.
Matt, however, is getting desperate. Sarah is in danger, he has to leave, and leave NOW!
The police officer tries to calm down the crazy driver who caused the accident, "Sir, I know you are traumatized, but if you go to the hospital, they will check you out," says the officer, and probably put you in a straight jacket, he thinks.
"Listen officer," says Matt, and he runs his good hand through his hair, exasperated, "my sister is a federal agent, NCIS, and my girlfriend's brother too. They were on a case, and this is a result of their investigation, you have to let me go, now! They are in danger!"
The officer looks at him and considers his options for a moment, then he turns to the paramedic.
"What is his situation?"
"Except some scratches made by glass, a broken wrist we had already patched up and a concussion, he's fine. The other driver, however, is in critical condition," says the paramedic.
The officer looks at him, and sees his nervousness.
"Please, they are going to try to kill them too," Matt pleads, desperate.
The metro officer frowns, and nods, "ok, but you are not going alone, kid."
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One of the men reaches his hand out to the doorknob of Joy's room, and starts to turn it. He makes a whole turn without a noise, and the other two tense up ready for action.
Suddenly, shots are fired from inside the bedroom, through the door, hitting the man touching the door knob in the thigh. He flies back hitting the wall of the corridor, sliding towards the floor. The other two immediately start returning fire, but the shots keep coming and are dead on target, hitting another one in the chest and the other in the groin area.
The door is abruptly opened, and Joy stays out of sight, as the man with the shot thigh is still returning fire. The one shot in the chest was killed immediately; the other shot in the groin was trying to stop the bleeding, his gun forgotten on the floor.
The one with the shot thigh tries to escape, dragging his bum leg behind him and bleeding on the corridor towards the stairs. Joy though leaves her hiding place and hits him, again, this time in the back of his head. He falls dead on the sisal carpet her mother gave her for her twenty-fifth birthday.
She glances briefly into the corridor, checking the carnage left behind, and finally leaves the room.
The hit man holding his groin lifts his eyes and he's surprised to see their target, whose mug shots did not do justice to her real beauty: a woman, with her long wet brown hair plastered against her body. She's standing there before him, naked, with a gun in her hand and pointed to his head, as her towel fell to the floor during the gunfight.
He still tries to get his gun in his blooded hands, but she approaches him and touches his forehead with her gun.
"Do it," she hisses, "just do it." She's breathing deeply, and her beautiful breasts were hypnotizing for the dying man. His eyes glide over the smooth skin, still moist from the shower, and he sees that this furious Amazon Warrior had faced several wars. There are cigarette burns on the skin of her generous hips, and there is a knife scar on her belly, as well as two very distinct bullet holes in her upper chest, one in her shoulder and the other, over her left breast, very close to her heart.
She lowers on her knees, her gun still pointed to his head, grabs his gun away from his reach, and hisses furiously, "Who sent you here?"
He gulps, still staring at her breasts, "I won't tell," Joy leans towards him, and presses the muzzle of his own gun on his wound, bringing a moan out of him.
"You will bleed to death in minutes, and if you will have a peaceful meeting with your maker or not depends on your answer to my question, so," she presses her gun deeper, and he groans, "who sent you here?"
"Mike…" he mutters finally, afraid of this Fury in flesh and blood and… is that smell peaches?
"Mike Murdock?" she asks again, just to clarify his answer.
"Yes," he moans, in pain, "he said it was a payback for your attack against his commander," he hisses, and Joy steps back, her gun still pointed to his head, but not pressing in his wound any more, and she starts to think furiously.
"Mike sent you here under Kieran McGee's orders," she says, just to be certain she got it right.
"Yes," he says.
She glances at him for a full minute and leaves him alone in the corridor, bleeding. She hastily throws some clothes on, gets the first pair of shoes she can find, grabs her mobile and keys, and leaves her bedroom.
The hit killer is trying to stop his bleeding, in vain. Joy stops before him, and throws a towel to him. He glances at the furious woman looking down at him.
"Good luck stopping the bleeding," she says, and steps over the two dead bodies in the corridor, and rushes to her car.
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Ducky finally got tired of the clinical and dry words of the Medicine journal, and now was happily reading an illustrated book of Scotland, and he smiles as he glides his hand over the beautiful picture of his beloved land, completely unaware of the danger he is in.
The intruder silently breaks into the house by the kitchen door, and slowly makes his way, towards the living room where Ducky is sitting in a loveseat by the fireplace.
"Oh how sometimes I miss it, my bonnie Scotland. The Lochs, the music, the people! The vibrant colors of the tartans during the Highland games," he says out loud, and turns the page, to look at the picture of another castle, built in another time, another place.
He sighs, and the intruder creeps behind him, and slowly lifts his gun with a silencer towards Ducky's head. His fingers tense on the trigger.
A shot is heard.