Covert Mission

Neumann stood with his back to the replica statue of Michaelangelo's David, his service pistol drawn and ready to be fired. Vladimir was close by, he knew, but he just wasn't sure where he was. The museum was a large place, and once past closing hours, it was the sort of place that one didn't want to be in a firefight at. There was much cover, too many places one could hide, too many places from which a single well-placed shot was sufficient to terminate the opponet's life.

This wasn't Neumann's idea of a good assignment. But there was no choice. Headquarters had sent him a telegram that the KGB's Vladimir was on the loose with the intention of stealing the recently unearthed documents cataloguing early Nazi sympathisers who were based in the UK, and they wanted Vladimir to fail at his mission by whatever means necessary. Neumann thought it suspicious that such efforts were taken against the list, but it wasn't his place to ask questions. Besides, it was obvious why such a list would be interesting to the KGB---some of the more prominent people may be on the list, or in the worse case, their ancestors were on the list, a very distasteful way of being embarassed in a public venue.

A shuffling sound echoed from the corridor beyond the gallery. Neumann did a quick glance and started to move stealthily towards the direction of the sound. He was hoping that his other section mates were nearby---gunning down a KGB agent was no joke, and for things to end quickly and safely for them all, team work was paramount. Neumann had a couple of other roamers like him moving about the second floor of the museum where they were dropped off quickly by helicopter, securing room after room before clearing the entire floor. There were a couple of snipers who came along to set up spotting points on the second floor after clearing it, and the building's exterior was surrounded with roadblocks set up at periphery of a single block radius.

Neumann moved on, as silently as he could. The shuffling sound came again, and it confirmed its direction. He saw a roamer on the far side who was also following the sound. Giving the tell-tale nod, they made their way towards the corridor with the shuffling in a coordinated fashion.

The blast of a sub-machine gun ringed throughout the silent museum and Neumann found himself stumbling back into cover. He examined his leg; it was bleeding. He had been hit. His fellow roamer was less lucky---his body was riddled with holes and he had collapsed into a heap on the ground.

Neumann shouted frantically into his headset as he spied a shadow appearing from the corridor.

(Based on an exercise generated by WriteThis - 09-Mar-2014 14:29:56)