Suddenly, the eerie silence of the warehouse was shattered by a faint sound—an agonizing, muffled voice. Viper and Bullseye froze in place, instinctively pulling closer to the shadows. The voice was soft at first, almost inaudible, but as they strained to listen, it grew clearer, tinged with desperation.
A woman's voice.
"Please… I don't know what you're talking about…"
"Did you hear that?" Viper whispered, her voice barely audible, a flicker of concern crossing her sharp features.
Bullseye nodded, his smirk faltering for the first time. "Yeah. Let's check it out."
They moved swiftly, staying low and close to the walls, their weapons ready. The voice grew louder, clearer now, tinged with desperation. It was coming from up ahead, where a dim light flickered beneath the door to a small, secluded room.
When they rounded the corner, they saw a sight that made their blood run cold.
In the center of the room, a group of figures stood in a tight circle, their backs turned, focused on something—or someone—between them. The soft sobbing of a girl reached their ears, and Viper's heart skipped a beat.
The girl, bound tightly by her wrists to a pillar in the center of the room, was the source of the distressing sound. Her hands were chained, the metal digging into her skin, pulling her arms up over her head as she leaned against the cold stone. She was stunningly beautiful, her long, dark hair cascading in waves down her back, partially obscured by the blindfold covering her eyes. Her delicate features were marked by tears, her face pale except for the red blotches from crying. Despite the fear and pain etched into her expression, there was an undeniable strength in the way she held herself, even in captivity.
She was dressed in a simple white blouse, now torn and dirtied, and black pants, her outfit both practical and revealing the soft curve of her body beneath. Her shoes were scuffed as if she had been dragged through the dirt.
One of the figures spoke up, their voice sharp and demanding. "Tell us what we want to know. Where is it?"
The girl's breath hitched, and her trembling voice broke through the tension. "I... I don't know what you're talking about," she cried, her voice thick with emotion.
The figure sneered. "Don't lie. You know exactly what we're after."
Viper's pulse raced. Every instinct screamed at her to intervene, to take action. But they had to be smart—rushing in without a plan would only make things worse. She exchanged a look with Bullseye, her gaze hard and focused.
Bullseye gave a small nod, signaling he was ready.
One of the men grabbed her chin roughly, forcing her to face him. "Talk, or you'll regret it."
"I... I don't know what you're talking about," she stammered, her voice trembling with fear and pain.
Viper's jaw tightened. "We're getting her out of there."
Bullseye raised a brow. "You sure about that? Could be a trap."
"Trap or not, she's coming with us," Viper shot back. She glanced at him, her tone softening just slightly. "We've got the element of surprise. Let's make it count."
Bullseye smirked. "Fine. But I get dibs on the loud ones."
The two moved silently, positioning themselves around the room. Viper gestured, signaling for Bullseye to take the high ground. She stayed low, her blade gleaming faintly as she crept closer to the captors.
"Ready?" Viper's voice crackled softly in Bullseye's earpiece.
"Always."
Without warning, Bullseye fired a single shot, his sniper rifle silenced but deadly. The bullet tore through the nearest man, dropping him instantly. Chaos erupted as the remaining captors scrambled for cover, shouting commands and pulling out weapons.
Viper moved like a shadow, her blade slicing through the air with precision. She darted behind one of the men, slitting his throat before he could react. Another lunged at her with a crowbar, but she ducked, slamming her knee into his gut and finishing him with a swift strike to the temple.
Bullseye provided cover from above, picking off targets with deadly accuracy. "Three down. Two to go," he muttered.
One of the remaining men grabbed the girl, dragging her roughly to her feet and using her as a shield. "Stay back, or she dies!"
Viper froze, her eyes narrowing. "Let her go, and I might let you walk out of here alive."
The man laughed bitterly. "You think I'm scared of you?"
Viper's expression darkened. "You should be."
Bullseye fired again, grazing the man's shoulder. He yelped in pain, loosening his grip just enough for Viper to strike. She lunged forward, her blade flashing as she sliced through the rope binding the girl to the pillar. The man stumbled back, clutching his wound, but Viper was relentless. She kicked his weapon out of his hand and delivered a brutal punch to his jaw, knocking him unconscious.
The last man made a run for it, but Bullseye took him down with a clean shot to the leg. He fell, screaming in pain, before Viper silenced him with the hilt of her blade.
The room fell silent except for the girl's soft sobs. Viper knelt beside her, removing the blindfold and inspecting her for injuries. The girl's eyes were a striking shade of green, wide with fear but glimmering with a hint of defiance.
"It's okay," Viper said softly, cutting the remaining ropes. "You're safe now."
The girl looked at her, tears streaming down her face. "Thank you..."
Bullseye approached, slinging his rifle over his shoulder. "Well, that was fun. Can we go now?"
Viper helped the girl to her feet, but something about her felt... off. Her movements were hesitant, her eyes darting nervously around the room. Viper's instincts screamed at her to pay attention.
As they headed toward the exit, Cipher's voice crackled through their comms. "Nice work. Extraction point is three blocks north. Be quick."
Viper nodded, her grip on the girl's arm firm but not forceful. As they stepped into the cool night air, she couldn't shake the nagging feeling in her gut.
"Hey," Bullseye said, nudging her. "You okay?"
Viper glanced at him, then back at the girl. "Yeah. Just... keep an eye on her."
Bullseye frowned. "Why? She's just a hostage."
Viper didn't reply, but her gaze lingered on the girl's hands. They were clean—too clean for someone who'd been tied up and tortured in a filthy warehouse.
Something wasn't right.