imagine youâre a sniper on the field and your team has been compromised and killedâ when you find them.. you also find the 141.
(this is my first post so please be nice đ i had an idea and just couldnât contain it.)
Itâs been 10.. no, 15 minutes? you canât quite tell, your eyes are strained and tired from staring through a scope. the last thing you heard from your team was that they were moving inâ âETA, how copy?â your voice rings over the radio, choppy and almost unintelligible.
you get nothing but static cutting in and out, shit. fuck! now what? you canât just leave themâ and especially not without the intel.
you pack up your sniper, unhinging its stand and chamber and putting it into your bagâ much easier to carry this way. Your scope tucked safely in one of the pockets, and your ammo in a cargo slot.
now, time to see what shit your team has stepped in now. you trudge ( unwillingly and undesirably may i add) down the stairs of the building you resided in, and rush out the door.
your eyes dart from one side of the street to the otherâ coast is clear. you make a break for it, running for the door that is creaked open slightly, you shove the door as much as you can and squeeze inside.
oh god, the bloodâ the smell.. itâs enough to make bile creep up your throat and a grimace appear on your face.
youâre team is clearly goneâ whoever did this meant for you to find them.. almost like a warning. you grip the pistol at your side, you hear somethingâ footsteps, maybe? you have no time to think on it whenâ
oh my. in any other circumstance, this man would have you on your knees with his looks but in this oneâ thatâs not the case, with his closed fist flying right towards your face.
you duck, âFucker!â you yell, your fist coming up and hitting him blow his jawâ âuppercut, motherfucker!â you think, with a smallâ almost unnoticed smirk.
you feel hands grab your headâ covering your eyes and mouth, while another set grabs your arms and holds them down.
âFuckinâ âell, bonnie.â a scottish sounding voice starts, âyou really know howâta put up a fighâ!â he says, and you can hear his smug smirk.
âwhat a shame that we canât say the same for your team..â Another voice perks up, sounding more commanding.
âdonât speak on my team.â you grit out, youâre fists are clenchedâ although held back, the 141 can see just how much of a âthreatâ you are. you wriggle and try to break free from their grasp, but that just earns you a scoff.
âStop strugglinâ. you couldnât escape even if you tried.â a deep, british accent resounds. you hear shuffling before someone says something you honestly wish you had heard wrong.
âWe should take âer back to base. could be usefulâ maybe we can get her to talk about why shes tryna get dirt on us.â
oh fuck, no. no, noâ they must have you mistaken, right? you were here for info on the 141â and even though youâd never seen themâ this couldnât be them right?
wouldnât that be something if it was..


















