Lockdown - 37 by Alexander Shaw

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SUMMARY: I like to think of myself as very unforgiving to my good guys. Or, well, my morally ambiguous guys. Cheers for the continued support, love you all.

Chapter 37 – Kobra.

--/Day 12 20:55 Hours/--
--/Level 1-001 Flight Lounge Control Balcony/--

THHWW. The silenced round took the janitor directly between the eyes. There was a moment as he simply hung in the air, blood spurting from his ruined head. Then he collapsed to the ground. Grissom lowered his pistol and sprinted towards the corpse, Davan right behind him.

"Nice shot." Davan whispered. Grissom nodded and leant down, grabbing the front of the janitor's shirt and hauling him up over his shoulder. Davan picked up the mop that the janitor had been slowly dragging back and forth, then proceeded to mop up the blood on the deck.

"Is this the flight deck?" Torn whispered, coming up behind Davan, trying to keep his gaze away from the corpse or the blood. He shuddered.

"Yeah. Here, take over." Davan commanded quietly, handing the mop over to Torn. Torn took the mop and continued to mop up the last of the janitor's head from the deck. It made him feel quite ill. Davan moved to the right, to a balcony with control panels attached. This would be the operation centre. Davan found the Atmosphere Bubble controls and slid his Slicing Probes into the panel. He'd have them open in no time. Farn should be here soon.

--/+0 minutes 0 seconds/--
--/Racetrack Alpha Guest Pilot Accessway/--

Sorrell kept a private Racetrack tube from Alpha so that he could meet pilots that had particularly impressed him. Farn was hovering in it right now, Sun-Skimmer feeling heavy and bloated beneath him. It wasn't sleek enough, it didn't sit well with him. Flight Pods shouldn't be more than one seat, in Farn's humble opinion. There was a soft buzzing from his wrist watch. That was it. Time to go. He powered up Sun-Skimmer and slid along the track towards Sorrell's private dome. This was heavy stuff he'd gotten himself into.

--/+6 minutes 14 seconds/--
--/Level 1-001 Flight Lounge Control Balcony/--

"There he is." Davan said, pointing out the shape of a large flight pod winding its way towards the atmosphere bubble. Sun-Skimmer glided into the private lounge port and up to the only free docking clamps. The other two clamps were occupied by a banged up and probably unplayable wreck of a pod, and then a deluxe race, twin pronged and sleek as anything. A beauty. Behind the Sun-Skimmer, the Atmosphere Bubble slid back into place.

"Morning boys." Farn said, rising from the popped canopy of his pod. He waved. The plan was that he was going to be staying here to guard the Skimmer while the others went to secure the data crystal. Farn pulled his handgun free from his hip holster and kept it in his hand. Then he sat back down in the saddle to wait for the other's return.

"Move out. We're not done yet." Davan said. Grissom was already waiting at the door at the other side of the balcony. T, who had been on rearguard at the other door, moved up and took position next to him. Davan and Torn followed in short order. Time was of the essence. The ‘Kobra Match' should have begun and was possibly over by now already.

Grissom flung the door open, there was nobody beyond.

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