A Sudden of Gunfire

Ethan fixed his gaze on the black card in his hand, drawing in a deep breath before slowly crouching down and placing it on the ground.

"I've upheld my end of the bargain. This is what you wanted." His voice was low and steady as he cautiously took a step back, raising both hands in a gesture of surrender.

The men in black exchanged glances, and the leader gave a subtle nod to one of them. The subordinate stepped forward, reaching out to retrieve the card.

Bang!

A single gunshot rang out, slicing through the oppressive silence of the warehouse like a crack of thunder.

The bullet struck its mark with unerring precision, piercing the forehead of the approaching man.

"Splurt."

Blood and brain matter erupted in a grotesque spray. The man's body stiffened for a fleeting moment before collapsing lifelessly to the ground, hitting the cold concrete with a heavy thud.

A sniper round.

"There's a sniper! Take cover!"

The leader's roar snapped the others into action.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

From the shadows beyond the warehouse, another shot rang out, shattering the light fixture near the entrance. Darkness consumed the space in an instant.

"Damn it!" One of the black-clad men cursed, diving behind a wooden crate. The others followed suit, scrambling for cover as the situation spiraled into chaos.

Ethan wasted no time, hurling himself behind a nearby shelf, seeking refuge from the crossfire.

But before he could steady his breath.

Boom!

The warehouse doors burst open with a deafening crash.

A man stormed inside, gun in hand.

It was him. The wounded man.

Bandages still wrapped around his torso, yet his movements were swift and unwavering. His grip on the pistol was steady—calm, calculated, lethal.

"Target has entered. Open fire!"

The black-clad men reacted instantly, unleashing a hail of bullets toward the intruder.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Gunfire erupted in a deafening symphony, rounds ricocheting off metal shelves, splintering wood, and tearing through the air. A bullet zipped past, narrowly missing Ethan before embedding itself into a nearby crate.

"Shit!" Ethan cursed under his breath, instinctively pulling back, his heart hammering against his ribs.

The warehouse had transformed into a war zone.

Despite his injuries, the man moved with uncanny agility, firing as he weaved through the chaos, never remaining in one spot for long. Every shot he took forced the black-clad men into cover, their heads kept low under the relentless assault.

"Take him down.now!" one of them snarled.

Bang!

A bullet grazed the man's arm, striking a metal barrel behind him, sending a shower of sparks into the air.

Ethan knew hesitation could cost him his life. These assassins wouldn't spare him just because he wasn't their primary target. His only chance of survival was to stay out of the line of fire.

Seizing the moment, he rolled to the side, darting behind a taller shelf deeper in the warehouse.

"There! The kid's still here!"

One of the gunmen spotted him, turning his weapon in Ethan's direction.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Bullets tore through the crates shielding him. Splinters and debris rained down as a heavy metal component tumbled from above, crashing onto Ethan's shoulder with a searing jolt of pain.

"Damn it." He bit down against the sharp sting, forcing himself to keep moving, pushing deeper into the maze of shelves. He couldn't afford to be a stationary target.

The battle raged on.

The sniper outside remained hidden, firing intermittently, each shot forcing the assassins to stay pinned down. Inside, the wounded man maneuvered with relentless precision, gradually driving his adversaries further back into the warehouse.

Chaos had consumed the space, turning it into a battlefield of smoke, blood, and gunfire.

Ethan crouched low, his fists clenched, cold sweat trickling down his temple.

He had no control over the mayhem unfolding around him.

All he could do,was wait.

Wait for a chance.

A single moment that would allow him to escape this nightmare.

The gunfire within the warehouse raged on, an unrelenting cacophony of chaos.

Though the black-clad men held the advantage in numbers, the sniper's unerring precision and the wounded man's swift, lethal marksmanship had begun to thin their ranks at an alarming pace.

Bang!

A gunman peeked from behind a shelf, his finger barely brushing the trigger before a sniper's bullet tore clean through his forehead. His body went rigid for a fleeting instant before crumpling lifelessly to the ground.

Bang! Bang!

The wounded man fired both guns in seamless succession, the bullets striking two more assailants square in the chest. They toppled over without so much as a scream, their lives extinguished before they could grasp what had happened.

"Damn it! How the hell did they know about our operation?!"

Panic flickered in the eyes of the surviving gunmen as they exchanged uneasy glances. They had never anticipated the tide turning against them so swiftly.

But before any of them could act.

"Don't move."

A cold arm suddenly coiled around Ethan's neck.

His pupils contracted. Before he could react, the unmistakable press of a gun barrel settled against his temple.

He had been taken hostage.

"Drop your weapons! Or this brat dies!" The black-clad man holding Ethan let out a cruel, unhinged chuckle, tightening his grip around Ethan's throat, making it nearly impossible for him to struggle.

The sniper's scope froze in place. The wounded man's brows knitted together, and after a brief pause, he began to lower his gun.

"Good… very good…"

The captor's lips curled into a vicious smirk, his eyes brimming with naked malice as they locked onto the wounded man. His voice was laced with contempt.

"Did you really think a few flashy tricks would make us spill everything?"

A cold, humorless laugh escaped him. "We are assassins by trade. Did you truly believe we would surrender our secrets so easily?"

The wounded man's expression remained unreadable, yet Ethan felt an icy dread creeping into his bones.

These men never had any intention of leaving witnesses alive.

"We knew from the beginning that you wouldn't let us walk away," the wounded man replied, his voice calm, yet edged with a blade-like sharpness. "Which is precisely why you are the ones at a disadvantage now."

"Oh?" The black-clad man sneered, then suddenly raised a small remote control, his thumb slamming down on the crimson switch.

"Farewell, kid."

"No!"

Ethan's mind went blank, an overwhelming sense of foreboding crashing over him like a tidal wave.

This wasn't just about him.

"What… what have you done?!" His voice was laced with raw terror, his heart clenching as though an invisible hand had seized it in a merciless grip.

The man's grin twisted into something sinister.

"Did you really think we'd be foolish enough to rely solely on you as leverage?"

"Your parents… were part of our plan from the very start."

"They're strapped with micro-explosives."

Ethan's pupils constricted violently, his breath hitching.

"What did you just say…?"

"The detonator is already active. By now, they're dead."

Bang!

A single gunshot tore through the suffocating tension.

The sniper's bullet drilled a perfect hole through the gunman's forehead, his words cut off in an instant. His lifeless eyes widened in shock as his body jerked backward, dragging Ethan down with him.

He was dead.

But Ethan had no time to process it.

With trembling hands, he fumbled for his phone, his fingers barely functioning as he hastily dialed his father's number.

Beeep—beeep—

No answer.

"Pick up… please…" His voice was barely above a whisper, laced with desperation as he dialed again.

Beeep—beeep—

Still nothing.

"Dad… Mom…"

His voice cracked into something barely audible, a breath, a prayer, a plea. But the only response was the hollow, endless drone of an unanswered call.