Chapter 29

SITA

It was a rough site in here. The base wasn't just a place with a few buildings housing armed me. It had a bunker, and that bunker was where the man I shot down pointed at.

But, wait, who could that man be? the rest of his gang spoke French when they were hit, but he spoke not just English, but the American sort of it.

I left the bunker and went in search of him, but he was gone from the midst of already dead and stiffening boys. Yes, when my bullet hits you, it stiffens you in five minutes, so, you wouldn't survive my hit for any damn reason, but this fellow had somehow limped out.

"Shit." I spat and went in search of him. We couldn't leave traces on such a mission. He heard my voice, and for that, he should be dead.

"Agent 555, henchman on the run," I shouted and heard the puff of a sniper hit the wall. The man was hiding behind a wall, but I was stupid to have shouted, because I could now hear footsteps approaching, and I didn't have any way of communicating with the other agents on the ground.

I looked around for the drone, it was gone, but the sniper seemed to be waiting. I took cover in a dark spot, to keep myself hidden from the boys approaching.

They opened fire. Maybe I was lucky to have not badged into that bunker. I might have been designated a fallen comrade, and a terrorist by the ruling party. They didn't mind what they were shooting at. Even the man I was hunting came out of hiding with many bullet wounds, yet, his already breathless body was decapitated by machine gun fire.

I took a deep breath. It had been a long time since I last had an encounter with such heavily armed men. Some of them were army uniforms, and some were wearing black regalia and boots that made them look like swat officials. Maybe we've been tricked into a special forces' base where the devil will receive our souls on a platter of gold.

I looked around for the drone. It was gone for good, or, it might have been shot down.

A white man walked out of the bulk of the men. He was donning army pants and desert boots, and he was damn American, I could tell that by his look.

"I checked the men who were hit." He said, wiping his hands. "Some of them were hit by long-range snipers, and some were hit in close-range combat."

"The men are stiff, what sort of close combat is that?" the man who seemed to be the leader of the group asked.

The white man smiled. "They are here for the boys who claim to be columnists, I suppose, but maybe someone should tell them that you and your man have foolishly sawed the men to death even before I could show my face here for interrogation."

"The men were annoying, they refused to utter even their name." the second man said.

"Because they merely wanted you to kill…"

I opened fire on the white man's occiput. My corner was good, I had good cover, and I was ready to maneuver them in all possible ways and end their disgusting lives as I was ordered the exclusive purge.

The bullet met his occiput and busted it open. His brain and blood spluttered both from the rear and front and stained the second man before his cut of bullets met his face.

"Over there!" they opened fire, but the sniper spared them no grace. He took down three men in three shots. They scattered around and took cover, from where they fired towards me and I fired back only when I deemed it convenient.

The drone returned, this time, it wasn't one, it was four, armed with hand grenades. Six covers busted, and their occupants fell out in shreds. I swung into action in the cover of darkness.

Most of the lights had been taken out due to reckless shootings and explosions. The first man that bumped into me thought I was one of his mates. I didn't shoot him; I gave him a stab in the chest.

He groaned and fell to his knees, but I spared him no chance to curse me. A bullet to his head after I walked past him, was a good deal. I met the second man, he was dressed like SWAT boys, but even his bulletproof vest couldn't save his life when my bullet met his forehead.

"Widow…"

I shot the third man, the fourth, the fifth, till the thirtieth man. That was a whole lot of body counts for a night. I drew my second gun and scurried into the bunker. A man was in there, reloading a gun that hadn't killed anyone in the hit.

"Ou sont les deux journalists?" I asked with my gun poised on his head.

"Morts, tous!" he shouted.

Maybe, that's his fair way of calling on his colleagues, who, sadly, have died to the blow of bullets.

"Ou diable sont leurs corps?" I asked. My fingers were itching to press the trigger and end him for heaven's sake.

"Lis sont putains de morts!" he shouted again.

"Good." I let the gun pop on his head.

Once again, another brain and blood popped out on my clothes. It has always been this way in the days of conflict until we stopped, but now, it has just begun.

I went further, checking out the bunkers, but no one was there to fall victim to my poisoned bullets. I felt it was time to leave, having cleared out the camp as was ordered, but I chose to go further. I moved in deeper, and there, I found them, people skinned alive and laid out in rows.

There were too many bodies in there, just like a morgue where corpses are skinned. I fished out the phone I hid in my gown. It was without contacts, so, it could never be linked to anyone.

I went further, it was a human skin plant. These evil people were skinning people and selling their skin, harvesting their organs, and packing chopped-up human meat in coolers. A lot of things were happening here.

"Aidez nous." Someone cried out from a cage. There were too many cages there, with people trapped in them. women, men children, grannies.

I exhaled and delved into breaking the keys. In just an hour, I had an army of former captives, helping me with freeing those in the cages.

"Agent 1515." Someone said from behind. "I was ordered to go retrieve your body."

"I'm not dead," I replied. "We need to ensure they leave this evil place without falling in the hands of law enforcement agencies."

The agent who came in had a mask, too, and she was a lady. She shook her head and made for the entrance of the bunker; she would keep watch while we did the needful.

***