Arthur hadn’t expected himself to be in such a dismal situation, working for a young boy- that’s what he was after all, a young, insolent boy. But times like these called for drastic measures, without much work in the world to be had, jobs such as this were rare to come by. The Brit should have been happy to simply make a wage, but the price it came at was worth more than the Icelandic boy could ever pay him.
He had been hired to protect Egill, whatever that may entail. More or less because of Arthur’s slim stature, he was selected. His ability to be agile in necessary and horrifying circumstances would soon be revealed, as his eyes wandered to a suspicious tan coat that had been loitering around the boy and himself.
In hindsight, Arthur should have been more aware, but should have was too little too late for the revolver that was being pulled out of the character’s pocket.
”Egill!” Arthur ran, shoving the boy, soon feeling his legs crumble in incomprehensible pain, another striking his chest. After such a sting, the unconsciousness was welcome, and quietly his mind descended into the dark.
10:00 PM; London, England.
[ K.S. ] He's on his way there, proceed as planned.
A young lad of seemingly eighteen to nineteen years of age focused trained lilac eyes on the words blaring on his phone. Pale features contorted into that of a scowl as he quickly shoved the black contraption inside the pocket of his jeans. Chapped lips formed into a fine line as Egill crossed his arms for a moment before deciding to let them fall to his sides again. He opted to lean against one of the pillars in the almost empty parking space as he waited for the bodyguard his brother had hired for him.. and for another.
Quite truthfully, the youth did not understand the need for a protector. If he were to act as bait, it would have been far wiser to have him act solo. Sure, he was not the strongest, but he certainly was not stupid; he did not enjoy being treated like a child. He was already nineteen, for Valhalla's sake. What's more, his bodyguard, Arthur Kirkland, did not know what Egill's role was in this mission. He doubted that Arthur even knew there was a mission. The poor chap might've also been kept in the dark that he was working for a child of the Northern Europe underground market.
Shaking his head, the young man clenched his jaw when he heard the soft sound of footsteps that were very cleverly hidden, but still easily detected by a child practically trained to be on constant guard by his... brothers, for lack of better word.
This was not Arthur. Arthur would have not attempted to hide his presence from him. This led him to the conclusion that this was one of the men sent by the enemy group, the one that he had to capture. So, Egill kept perfectly still as he waited for the other man to make his move, his hand slowly slithering inside his vest, where he kept his trusty small gun.
What he did not expect, however, was his name being shouted in a loud, alarmed voice. Cursing under his breath, Egill immediately readied his gun and turned around, but he was too late. A shot had already been fired.
He knew the shot was meant for him, but no sudden pain tore through him. Egill's eyes widened in surprise when he saw Arthur on the ground, bleeding. Clicking his tongue, the younger fired too. The pained groan that followed indicated that he managed to hit their assailant somewhere and the retreating footsteps told him that they were safe, at least for now.
❝ You stupid fool, ❞ Egill growled as he knelt down to inspect the damage done. The sight of an open gun wound was never pretty to look at, so Egill retrieved his handkerchief from his shirt's pocket and began to press down on the elder's gaping chest.
(Close to the heart, but not quite there, he can survive if he had strong will... and if they were able to take him to the hospital, like, now.)
Their little scuffle had attracted enough attention and from the corner of his eye, Egill could make out the form of someone running towards them.
❝ This is why I didn't want a fucking bodyguard. ❞
And he really would not put it past his brothers to accuse them that all of this was premeditated so they can get rid of someone who might have known too much.
Collateral damage was a pain in the arse to deal with, so why not do everything in one fell swoop. Problem was, he failed. He was unable to capture the culprit.
