Hey everyone! This has probably been one of the toughest, if not THE toughest week in my entire life so far. But these people really did a fantastic job in making it infinitely better, so here goes my thanks to: THExPOTxHEAD, TheGreatAthlon5, a happy reader, a guest reader, phantom1299(thank you for coming back!), Clytuis, FierceDeity24, NoahTheOverlander, BryceSyce(how's your story coming along?), DeathDrayanD, Jedi1, HumanicHedgeHog, , Dragons boy(welcome back from your trip!) and finally, Reaper Whisper.
I did get a review recently from someone I respect, saying that he/she hated my story. I do not harbour any ill will towards this person, and I thank you for having the guts to say that straight to my face. If any of my other readers hates my story or its characters, please feel free to let me know so that I know there's something wrong with my story.
I won't lie, that review broke my already mourning heart but still, sometimes these things are necessary to keeping you on track. If my story has offended you or let you down, I'm really sorry. That being said, I did promise you guys in my very first chapter that this story had the potential to be controversial, so… I'm not particularly surprised.
The last thing I have to say before you guys dive into this chapter is… treasure your family. Please do. You never regret it until it's far too late, and this week I learned a lot of painful lessons about that. So please remember to show your family love, even when times are difficult.
This chapter is written from Calvin's perspective.
Chapter 17: Rescue
Calvin gazed at the farmhouse intently through his binoculars, his eyes scaling up and down its walls and penetrating through the grimy windows.
"At least three of them on the second floor," he told Mr Carter.
He glanced up at Mr Carter, whose furrowed eyebrows bellowed anxiety. The old man brought his hand up to his chin and stroked his stubble repeatedly, a nervous habit that apparently stayed with him loyally even throughout his duration in prison. His dark brown eyes seemed to lock onto the white farmhouse with burning intensity.
They could see half a dozen black vehicles parked conspicuously near the farmhouse, but all in different locations. There was no doubt that Operation Claw had gotten to the Walkers already. The question now was whether this was a deliberate trap set for careless rats, or whether Snake was genuinely not expecting them so soon.
It was likelier to be the former than the latter, which meant that Calvin had to go in there with a plan. But as every moment passed by, the tension in his gut only tightened even harder. Every second then flew by was a second closer to death for Gregor's family, if they weren't already dead.
For a split second, Calvin prayed for Gregor to appear. Gregor was the best fighter he knew, full stop. In terms of fighting prowess, Gregor was unmatched in the Underland and was practically close to the same in the Overland too, since he was able to deflect bullets aside as naturally as bullets bounced off Superman.
And given the chance to fight these devils and snakes, Gregor would spare them no mercy, especially with his family's lives at stake. He could have taken all of them on his own, driven merely by the fury of seeing his family held hostage.
Then there was the pressure to consider. Gregor may not have known it yet, but he was counting on Calvin and Mr Carter to protect his family. The burden couldn't have been heavier on Calvin's shoulders. If he died sacrificing himself for his own family or Gregor's family, then that'd be fine because it was his choice. If his family died while Calvin tried to protect them, that would be criminal and unforgivable, because he had put his family in harm's way.
But letting someone else's family die in his bid to protect them? That would be a punishment worse than death. Calvin almost shuddered as he imagined informing Gregor of the news, guilt dripping from his voice.
The look of horror on Gregor's face sent a shiver down his spine and shocked him back into reality. He shook his head to shrug off the image and then glanced back up at Mr Carter again. The old man still had a look of consternation glued to his face, but at least the fierce anxiety in his eyes had faded away.
"Is the family on the second floor?" he asked abruptly.
"I can't confirm it," Calvin replied, peering through his binoculars again. "But I don't think they're up there. If Snake has more men on the ground, then-"
"They're probably being guarded by those men," Mr Carter finished. "We're not looking at an ideal scenario."
"How long till the police catch up with us?" Calvin asked.
"I suspect they'll be on us by the end of today. I don't know if they've identified you as my accomplice, but they'll definitely find me soon."
"Maybe we can lead them on the trail of Operation Claw."
"We could, but they probably won't pick up on it. Remember, they're not looking for Operation Claw. They're looking for us."
"Like you always used to say," Calvin recalled with a sigh, "You can't find what you aren't looking for."
Mr Carter replied with his own sigh, before saying, "We've got a very small chance of rescuing the family. The best we can do is soften them up for Gregor."
"And what will they do with us?" Calvin asked, although he wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer to that question.
"You might live," Mr Carter said bleakly, "but they might make you wish you were dead."
"And you?"
"They'll kill me," Mr Carter replied stiffly, "if they don't have any other use for me. Maybe it's better that way. I don't want to be a pawn in whatever game they're playing."
"So this is it, huh?" Calvin said wistfully. "This is our legacy. This is where we make our last stand."
"Still going on about legacy after all these years," Mr Carter said fondly and slightly reproachfully. "You and your goddamn family have always let your legacies define who you are."
"You have a problem with that?"
"If you keep worrying about your future, you'll forget about the present," Mr Carter answered. "And by the time you realise your mistake, it's often too late to regret it."
Mr Carter's words rang with the truth. Even while trying to change his family's motto, Calvin had always let the idea of legacy haunt him like Vikus' ghost. In fact, his legacy was Vikus' ghost. The day he fired a bullet through Vikus was the day he lost part of his identity- the day he realised that even though he didn't mean for Vikus to die, he was still a murderer.
To Calvin, the idea of being a symbol appealed to him. The idea of himself being immortalised as a symbol of peace and human goodness was his lifelong dream. He still believed that was his ultimate goal in life- sending a message of peace and hope by becoming a symbol of it. And there was nothing more crushing than seeing himself as a murderer and a destroyer of the peace.
That was the reason why he set the killing and the guns aside. Because with those things he could never act as a symbol of justice and hope. With those weapons and those principles, he was just another murderer like the rest of those assassins.
But Mr Carter was right. If he kept allowing his legacy to define who he was, it'd overwhelm him and distract him from trying to redeem himself. So he did exactly what Mr Carter subtly suggested- focusing on the present.
"So how are we going to take them out?" Calin asked. "Do we have any particular strategy?"
"I'd love to make a coordinated attack," Mr Carter sighed. "One from the ground and one from the air. But we don't have the equipment to make an aerial attack, so we're going to have to make do with a ground assault."
"Charge right through the door and start fighting? It's not quite my style."
"Don't be stupid. We're outnumbered, so even if I wanted to do that it wouldn't even kill a single one of them. We're going to have to use guerilla warfare style if we want to take them down."
"The backdoor's being watched closely too," Calvin pointed out. "I don't think we can use it to bring them down. If we split up we'll both end up being killed in seconds."
"Then we create our own backdoor," Mr Carter responded. "It's pretty simple. We can opt to go through the windows or blow a hole in the wall. Either method will work."
"Let's save up on our ammo. If we don't need to blow down a wall then we won't do it," Calvin replied. "I can go through the window. I'm a better fit than you are."
"Agreed. I'll make an attack through the front entrance and toss in a couple of smoke grenades to distract them. You come in through the window and fight your way to the family. If you can, get out with them. If not, make sure the whole family escapes at all costs."
"I wouldn't have it any other way," Calvin responded, checking his utility belt to make sure he had all the weapons he needed.
Except a gun, of course.
"Are you gonna shoot?" he asked Mr Carter.
"I don't believe in your 'no killing' policy," Mr Carter replied gruffly. "But we'll see. I might actually hold back from snapping some of their necks or putting a bullet through their heads."
With that, he gave Calvin a nod of encouragement and said, "Whatever happens, I'm proud of what you've achieved."
He then made his way down the hill and towards the farmhouse, leaving Calvin at the vantage point alone. Calvin looked through his binoculars at the farmhouse one more time. It looked so eerily quiet even a ghost would have been frightened by its chilling appearance. If Gregor's family was…
This wasn't the time to speculate and lose hope. Making a desperate, silent prayer to the heavens, Calvin got to his feet and made his way down the other side of the hill, consciously bringing his hand up to feel the toughness of his bulletproof vest.
The sprawling green of the place was a sight for very sore eyes, but within minutes Calvin was amongst the dirty, gritty green of the farm's plantation. Calvin made his way around the plantation and made a quick dash behind a weathered oak tree. He peered around it to make sure the coast was clear, before prowling towards the right side of the house, which seemed to be unguarded. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Mr Carter making his way around some bushes in the distance.
Hopefully Calvin's eyes weren't the only ones locked on Mr Carter's lanky figure.
Calvin edged closer and closer to the window, before dropping onto his belly and crawling towards the house. The moment he reached its walls, he crouched under the window and began to take in deep breaths.
After what felt like an eternity, he could hear some murmuring from the house. An explosion suddenly rocked the whole building, its vibrations sending dust and other particles falling off its roof. The murmurs now escalated into fearsome shouts and barks of anger.
Another explosion slammed into the building, and crashing noises could be heard distinctly. Calvin's heart froze when he heard a couple of gunshots, but then those sounds were followed by frustrated profanities. Mr Carter was doing an admirable job of frustrating them.
Then came a couple of feminine shrieks, which sounded like music to Calvin's ears. At the very least, Gregor's family was still alive.
Mr Carter's voice could suddenly be heard over the chaos which had consumed the house. "NOW!" Calvin heard.
He immediately got up and threw himself through the window, ignoring the piercing pain from the shards of glass that pricked his skin like a shower of needles. Landing on the ground painfully, he stumbled to his feet and took in his surroundings. Smoke engulfed the entire building and seemed to suffocate it along with its inhabitants. Violent coughing seemed to echo around the building and reverberate off its walls.
Calvin strapped on his gas mask quickly and made his way through the smoke, gritting his teeth to fight off the biting pain that nipped his limbs and back. He felt as if his body was on fire, and every step added more fuel to the flames. But the image of Gregor's family in danger was enough to spur him on and shrug off the pain.
Suddenly, through the hazy, swirling smoke, he saw a mercenary lifting his gun up to make a shot. Calvin immediately rushed forward and gripped the mercenary's arm. He yanked upwards, causing the mercenary to spray bullets at the ceiling instead.
Calvin drove a fist into the mercenary's ribs, which made the mercenary stumble back from the shock of the hit. Calvin then grabbed the nozzle of the gun and swung the whole rifle upwards, slamming the gun into the mercenary's face. He followed up with another sharp jab under the mercenary's right armpit, causing the mercenary to let go off his rifle. Calvin then wrapped his right arm around the mercenary's right arm and twisted like he was taught.
Calvin heard a crack, which was quickly followed by a hysterical scream by the mercenary. Calvin twisted the mercenary's arm in the other direction, and another crack ensued. Calvin then reared his left arm back and landed two solid punches between the mercenary's eyes, knocking him out cold.
Gunfire lit up the smoke-filled rooms, but Calvin got down underneath a table to avoid the bullets and whatever else ricocheted off the walls. Spotting a pair of legs not far from him, he lifted the whole table up and threw it at the figure.
The table crashed into the figure like a mortar shell, sending yet another mercenary down with a wail of pain.
The swirling smoke in the room began to float out through the broken window, forcing Calvin to position himself behind a cupboard. As the sound of a pair of heavy boots trudging across the room became louder and louder and drew nearer and nearer, Calvin readied himself.
A heavy-built mercenary advanced forward cautiously on his right. Calvin reacted faster than the mercenary did. He dropped a flash grenade on the ground and threw himself to one side with his eyes closed.
A howl of pain quickly followed, which was the signal Calvin needed to begin his assault. Opening his eyes, he jerked back from the intense glare that still lingered in the air. Squinting through the rays of light, he spotted the mercenary opening fire at will, gunning down a cupboard and sending splinters of wood and metal flying across the room.
Recalling the skills he learnt under Mr Carter, Calvin closed the gap and landed a punch to the mercenary's axillary nerve in his deltoid muscle. He drove a second punch to the same area and backed off, waiting for the results.
The mercenary gritted his teeth and winced in pain, still blinded by the flash grenade. Then he spun around to face Calvin, and in an embittered voice, said, "You chose the wrong mercenary to mess with, you piece of shit. I'll rip your body in two."
"You could," Calvin replied with a wry smile, "if your right arm worked."
The mercenary's right arm suddenly faltered and his gun slipped out of his grasp, hitting the floor with an ominous thud. Calvin advanced forward with growing confidence. The mercenary desperately tried to move his right arm, but it was as limp as a dead fish. Blasting another profanity out at the top of his lungs, he raised his left arm and threw a fist at Calvin.
Calvin caught the fist with his right hand, before using his left hand to deliver a karate chop to the mercenary's wrist. He followed up by firing his left fist into the mercenary's solar plexus, causing the mercenary to gasp from the pain.
With the mercenary reeling from the multiple blows, Calvin finished him off by punching his throat, and then kicking him in the ribs. The mercenary flew back and crashed against the wall, slumping down in unconsciousness.
The scream of gunfire triggered Calvin's senses again, and he quickly rolled behind a door, keeping his head as low as possible. He could hear Mr Carter yelling on the other side of the house, but he couldn't allow that to distract him. Based on the number of bullets hurtling in his general direction, he was guessing at least two mercenaries knew where he was.
His hands and fingers danced across his utility belt, searching for any device that could help him against them. They settled on a relatively large device, and Calvin pulled it out to inspect it.
It was a small time bomb set at thirty seconds. It wasn't a blast powerful enough to kill or cause a severe injury, but it could cause mayhem with a bit of time to plan, something which Calvin did not really have in abundance. But there was nothing he could do except to improvise on the situation.
He whipped out another device- a smoke bomb, and tossed it out into the living room. The mercenaries there began to curse and cough violently, which was the distraction Calvin needed to set up the bomb. Springing to his feet, he attached the time bomb to the top of the door frame and began the timer. He then backed up and raised his hands in the air to feign surrender.
The mercenaries emerged from the smoke and trained their weapons on him. "Stay where you are!" one mercenary barked at him.
Noticing they weren't standing directly beneath the door frame, Calvin took a step back, provoking them to take a step forward in response. "I said stay where you are!" the mercenary barked again.
Calvin's eyes flitted up to the clock on the wall. Seven more seconds.
"Take off the belt, kid. Or I'll give you something worse than death," the mercenary threatened. Two more seconds.
The bomb went off, causing rubble and and chunks of the ceiling to fall down on the mercenaries. Calvin's heart quickened its pace for a split second as the noise shocked him, but he recovered and rushed forward.
One of the mercenaries was down on the ground, but the other one was still on his feet, albeit bending over in pain. Ignoring the dust around him, Calvin drove his knee into the mercenary's forehead. The mercenary's head jerked back with a resounding crack and he landed on the ground, motionless.
For a split second, Calvin feared he had killed the mercenary. But the shallow rise of the mercenary's chest confirmed that he would live to see another day, even if it was exceedingly painful and unbearable.
Calvin turned back to the other mercenary, who had stumbled to his feet. The mercenary staggered about for a few seconds before regaining his bearings. Lifting up his rifle, he fired at Calvin, forcing him to throw himself to the ground again. He then scrambled across the room, ducking underneath the furious barrage of bullets that flew at him. He grabbed an ornate vase and hurled it at the mercenary.
That was the distraction Calvin needed. As the mercenary ducked underneath the projectile, Calvin charged forward and slammed into the mercenary, grabbing hold of the mercenary's gun and pinning it to the ground. But the mercenary wrenched the gun out of Calvin's gasp and aimed it right at him.
Calvin immediately kicked out at the rifle, knocking the nozzle upwards. He then crashed headfirst into the mercenary again, and they both sprawled across the floor, rolling amongst the broken remnants of the vase. Calvin winced slightly when he noticed a piece stuck in the mercenary's thigh, but he banished the thought and struck the mercenary across the face.
The blow was enough to draw the mercenary's attention away from his gun. Calvin yanked the rifle out of the mercenary's hands and flung it across the room. The mercenary responded in kind by punching Calvin right in the jaw.
Reeling from the pain, Calvin's hand instinctively went straight for his utility belt and he pulled out a mini taser. He jabbed the taser into the mercenary's ankle, evoking a sharp hiss from the mercenary. He went on the jab the mercenary in the arm and near the groin area, which made the mercenary release a muffled squeal of shock and pain.
In the midst of the chaos, Calvin reached out for the mercenary's pistol and quickly unloaded the magazine, causing bullets to scatter across the floor. He tried to toss the pistol aside, but the mercenary seized his arm and twisted sharply, causing Calvin to yell out in agony. He then reached out for the mercenary's other pistol, but the mercenary shifted his weight onto Calvin, pinning him down.
They struggled with each other on the ground, with Calvin clumsily fumbling about with both pistols. The mercenary then swung his elbow at Calvin's face, striking Calvin's right cheek hard. With his jaw ringing from the pair of blows, Calvin squirmed about on the ground, struggling to concentrate on fighting.
But the pain was far too great for him to handle. The mercenary got up and kicked him in the ribs, sending him skidding across the floor. Grimacing on the floor for a couple of seconds, he pushed himself up, only to see the mercenary aiming his pistol at Calvin.
"It's empty," Calvin told him, slowly rising to his feet.
"It's not," the mercenary replied with a triumphant grin. "I had a backup pistol, rich kid. Never go around without it."
"I know," Calvin agreed, pulling out the other pistol. "But I have it."
The mercenary's look of smug confidence quickly dissolved to form a look of confusion and ascending fear. He glanced down at the pistol in his hand. Calvin aimed the gun at the man's chest. "Put your hands on your head," Calvin ordered, "or I'll put one through your heart in the next ten seconds."
Calvin was bluffing- the gun he had was the one without bullets. But all he needed to do was sow the seeds of doubt and the mercenary would eat it all up because of fear. To his mild amusement, the mercenary tossed the pistol with live ammunition aside, and reluctantly placed his hands on his head. "Get out of here," he spat at the mercenary. "You don't need to throw your life away today. Not everyone will show you mercy, but I will."
"I agree with you," the mercenary replied with a sinister smile, "which is why I need to exploit this opportunity."
He pulled out a dagger behind his neck and hurled it at Calvin. Calvin ducked to avoid getting hit by the knife, but that was the only diversion the mercenary needed. He threw himself at Calvin and gripped Calvin's wrist, squeezing and twisting hard. Another yelp of pain punctuated the air as Calvin released his hold of the gun.
The mercenary then pressed Calvin up against the wall, and wrapped his hand around Calvin's throat. He shot Calvin a venomous grin before tightening his grip around Calvin's throat. Calvin began to splutter as spittle flew out of his mouth like the Bellagio fountains. Gasping like a fish out of water, Calvin slammed his palm into the mercenary's throat, shocking the mercenary into loosening his grip.
Calvin then fired a couple of punches at the mercenary's ribs, forcing him to drop both his arms to protect his abdomen area. Just as he had practised with Mr Carter, Calvin exploited the space that the mercenary had freed up around his head area to strike. Calvin struck his face with a left hook and then a right hook, before deliberately aiming a right uppercut at the soft tissue under the mercenary's chin.
The moment he struck the nerve clusters in that area, the mercenary stumbled back rapidly, swiping his arms in the air in panic. Calvin threw another fist straight at the mercenary's face, and his knuckles came into contact with the mercenary's nose. Blood cascaded out of the mercenary's nostrils as he continued to sway like a feeble tree in a violent thunderstorm.
Calvin grabbed the mercenary and hauled him closer, before delivering an anger-fuelled punch to his throat. The mercenary gagged and collapsed on the floor, now becoming the fish out of water. Ignoring the mercenary's pleading through his ragged breathing, Calvin lifted the mercenary up, and threw him through a wall with a roar.
The mercenary's body smashed right through the weakened walls of the room and landed resoundingly in the living room. Breathing air in gratefully and greedily with rapid gulps, Calvin inspected his surroundings. No mercenaries appeared to be in the vicinity, which was a good thing, because that only left those upstairs, if there were any left.
And Snake, of course. The initial plan was to have both Mr Carter and him team up against the rager, but at this point in time Calvin didn't even know if Mr Carter was still alive. He looked down at his own physical state and wondered how he was going to fight in this condition.
All four limbs were covered in wounds, with his knee in particular suffering from a deep gash, with a bright scarlet liquid rolling down his knee. His arms had also sustained a stinging injury when a couple of bullets had grazed his skin. His hand then instantly went up to feel his jaw, which felt fragile and barely structured anymore. His fingers slowly crept over to his lips, where he could feel blood trickling out of his mouth.
The other hand then moved up to his neck, which felt sore and rubbery following his strangling session. Coughing out a small glob of blood, Calvin forced himself to limp out of the room. "Mr Carter!" he called out. "Mr Carter!"
There was no reply. Calvin looked at the narrow flight of stairs, which suddenly seemed a thousand times more forbidding and daunting. He checked his utility belt for whatever gadgets he still had left in his possession. A couple of smoke grenades, a stun pellet, his sonic devastator and a thermite grenade all formed the limited arsenal at his disposal.
His eyes wandered over to the last device- a project he had been working on for a while. Even though he had decided to pull out of the whole killing and fighting business, he was still very much involved in developing prototypes of groundbreaking gadgets as a warped pastime. On the rare weekend he had nothing to do, he'd go down to his equipment room with Mr Bennett and work on developing some ideas he had.
He wasn't a particularly brilliant mechanic or engineer or scientist, but some of his projects were moving closer towards completion, like the small device he now stared at. It was an EMP grenade- probably one of the first of its kind. It was unlikely that even groups like Operation Claw had a hand on weapons like that.
Which meant that he was going to have to make it the ace up his sleeve.
He scoured the ground floor, carefully peeking around corners and trying to avoid staring too long at the blood and mess which littered the floor. Amongst the slew of unconscious bodies and… corpses? There were corpses?
Man, Mr Carter was serious when he said he wasn't holding back.
Calvin noticed the sheer number of bullets which riddled the ground and even some bodies. His frantic search of the area yielded no results, but at least Mr Carter's body wasn't there… which begged the question- Where the hell was Mr Carter?
The answer could come later. Gregor's family was the priority, and to Calvin's consternation they were definitely not on the ground floor. Sighing wearily, he trudged up the stairs noisily without caring about whether they could hear him or not. It didn't matter- they'd heard the whole ruckus over the past ten minutes.
They knew he was coming.
He found himself in front of the only closed door on the second floor. A quick glance around told him that this was the only room which had the possibility of containing Snake, his lackeys and most importantly, Gregor's family.
Calvin wrapped his hand around the door handle and pulled gently. The surprisingly heavy oak door swung open pretentiously and revealed exactly what he was expecting. Snake was lounging about the room, looking extremely calm and collected. Or did he look restless? Calvin wasn't sure. Either way, he looked far from troubled.
Three mercenaries surrounded a group of four people and trained their weapons on them. Calvin quickly dissected the group of people. A fairly old man with greying hair and a haggard expression that spoke of world-weariness more than fear. A woman of similar age, probably his wife, who looked the exact opposite. Her eyes threatened to pop out of their sockets, and her face gleamed brilliantly from the sheen of sweat on it. Her hands shivered uncontrollably- a picture of someone who suffered hyperthyroidism, except she probably didn't suffer from that.
She was suffering from the effects of fear in its purest and most malignant form.
Two girls sat behind them- one looked around his age, and was the classic definition of a nerd. She had thick, round spectacles and hard, fierce braces encasing her teeth. She wasn't hard to look at, she was actually quite pretty… But the look of terror on her face accentuated all her physical deficiencies. She held a paper bag in her hand, which looked like it contained something heavy and in a liquid form. He didn't have to think hard to guess what it was.
The last one was much younger, maybe… early teens? She looked less frightened than her sister, and there did seem to be the presence of curiosity in her eyes as she seemed to examine Calvin like a specimen.
His observation of Gregor's family came to an abrupt halt as Snake spoke up.
"I waited ten minutes. I'm almost disappointed."
The sound of Snake's voice almost compelled Calvin to rush forward and pummel the living daylights out of him. But remembering what happened the last time he lost his composure, he simply snarled, "Let them go."
Snake just grinned slyly and replied, "I will, if I'm given a reason to. And seeing as you look a little worse for wear, I'm about to get that reason."
Snake's serpentine nature was beginning to unnerve him already. Boy did that man live up to his name.
"I'm fine with that deal," Calvin replied stoutly. "You can have me, but swear on your life you'll let them go."
Snake ignored Calvin and turned to Gregor's family, saying, "Remember that guy I was telling you about? The one who killed Vikus? That's him."
Calvin suddenly froze as the ghostly visage of Vikus seemed to appear in the window behind Snake, before disappearing ominously. "That was your fault," Calvin said through gritted teeth. "You were the one that killed him."
"Keep telling yourself that," Snake responded dismissively.
The younger girl suddenly blabbered out, "Where's Gregor? Have you seen him?"
"I have," Calvin replied, trying to sound as confident as possible. "And you'll see him for yourself soon."
"How optimistic," Snake drawled, "but I highly doubt that will happen. Who knows, maybe we'll all be dead in the next half an hour. I mean, if all goes according to plan, things can still end up being quite pretty, but Calvin has a knack for messing things up."
A small globule suddenly landed on the window. Everybody swivelled round to face it, and Snake murmured, "That looks famil-"
He was interrupted as the window exploded and shards of glass hailed down on everyone, prompting screams from the family. Calvin glanced back at the window to see Mr Carter's body soaring right into the room. He landed unceremoniously, but instantly sprang to his feet and slammed into Snake, pinning Snake to the wall.
"Dodge this, you son of a bitch,' he growled, jamming a pistol into Snake's throat and tightening his finger around the trigger.
"DON'T!" Calvin yelled desperately.
And we're done for this chapter! Hopefully you enjoyed it, as it once again showcased the more tactical side to Calvin's fighting, which I feel juxtaposes very nicely with the more rampant fighting style of Gregor. I know a few readers like TheGreatAthlon5 who prefer that fighting style, so hopefully you liked this chapter. And uh, sorry for the super long author's note at the start of this chapter. I just had a lot to say.
Favourites and follows are always appreciated, and reviews are encouraged! Even if they break my heart again, I really don't mind.
Question: What do you think Mr Carter will do, and do you think Calvin was right to ask him to spare Snake's life? Finally, predict what is going to happen in the next chapter!
