#lextalionis

“Lucky Carmichael was always such a crap shot.” 

Her jacket is removed from her shoulders and shoved unceremoniously at Erik so she can examine the wound on her arm. The shot had torn the material, and that of the silk shirt underneath, allowing her to part it easily to get a good look. The skin below is an angry red, grazed and burnt by the bullet, but the skin is unbroken.

“Unfortunately for him, I’m not.” 

There was something so satisfying about seeing him fall the ground. He got what a traitor deserved. 

“It’ll be fine. Doesn’t even need Lenka to look at it.” She holds out a hand for her jacket, shrugging it back over her shoulders. She’s had worse scrapes than this, and so, she gives it no more thought. Instead she removes her gun from where it is holstered at her hip, and checks how many rounds remain in it. 

“Did you get a good look at them? I counted ten of them. I was told there would be fifteen, so that probably means there’s a secondary group out there.” Such is the way of Vera, always looking one step ahead, always preparing for the next sign of trouble. 

“How many did we take out, in the end? Did you see?”