The night was bright and the moon was full as Brooks Campo found himself staring down the side of an old building, more than three stories up from the world below. White with stucco siding, the building was at the end of a row of similar structures that had been there for hundreds of years.
Below him was a narrow alley, cluttered with garbage, old furniture and other typical trappings you would expect to find down a dark alley. It certainly wasn't the kind of place anyone would want to find themselves. But, then again, standing at the top of a building being chased by men wielding guns isn't exactly the best place to find yourself either.
Normally jumping would not have been an option in such a situation, but the thought of turning around and trying to negotiate with the angry men scurrying across the roofs behind him seemed like an even worse one. So, with one last look in their direction, he closed his eyes and took the plunge over the edge. For some reason he always closed his eyes when he was about to do something incredibly stupid. And yes, that had happened often enough in his life that he knew.
He hit the ground with a thump, trusting his training and rolling over in a ball as he slammed into the ground. Quickly regaining his bearings, he threw his body against the rough building as gun fire reigned down from above. The bullets barely missed him, whizzing past his face and blasting small pieces of pavement against him as they slammed into the ground. He was going to have a fare share of scrapes and cuts, but that was better than a gunshot wound.
As he looked around himself, he wasn’t quite sure what his escape route would be, but he knew he didn’t want to hang around where he was. These guys meant business and he had no interest in talking it out with them. Not that he figured they wanted to do much talking either.
Once the gunshots stopped, he craned his head upwards to see if any of his pursuers were thinking about taking the same suicide jump he had. Instead, all he heard was men shouting angrily at each other in a deep Eastern European accent as they realized he wasn't where he should have been.
As soon as he heard the voices running back away from the ledge of the building, he quickly scanned both sides of the dark alley. On one end was a deserted side street and on the other was a busy main road. He knew they would be expecting him to go to the uninhabited side, so instead he took off in a dead sprint for the hustle and bustle at the other end. After a few frightful moments imagining that they would spot him and he would feel the burn of a bullet in his back, he stumbled out into a relatively quiet old-world square.
Technically, he was in Lesser Town Square. A quaint section of Prague sporting more than its fair share of pubs, he would have loved to take a moment to appreciate the historic beauty. Not that he had a moment to spare right now.
All the drinking establishments proved to be advantageous, as they ensured that there were still some witnesses left milling around, even at this early morning hour, should his pursuers catch up to him and feel like taking another shot at putting him down. His first thought was to dissolve into the crowd of drinkers, fading away before they could find him. That, however, would have been harder said than done in his current state.
His clothes were ripped from the jump, and his face was starting to bleed from the shards of pavement that cut into him just a minute earlier. He would have stuck out like a sore thumb. No, blending in wasn't an option at the moment.
Quickly running out of time, Brooks was almost about to make a run for the other side of the square when he saw a beautiful yellow angel out of the corner of his eye. Without missing a beat, Brooks hailed the taxi and jumped in.
“Airport, please,” He instructed the driver as calmly as he could. It wasn't until the car started moving forward that he finally caught his breathe, looking out the back window to see his pursuers looking frantically around the square.
Having escaped the immediate threat, Brooks took out his cell phone and dialed the only number in it. The other line only rang twice before his boss, Admiral Harry Fitzgerald, answered with a gruff, “It’s about damn time Brooks. It’s been three days since I've heard from you.”
“Yeah, well, it took me longer to close the deal than we thought it would,” Brooks replied, not wanting to say anything that would alarm the man driving the car he was currently traveling inside.
“I don’t even want to know what that means. Did it get done?”
“Yeah, it’s done. I’m on my way to the airport now.”
“Good, cause I've got something new for you when you get here.”
“When don’t you? I thought I was going to get a good week or two to myself this time.”
“No such like my friend,” the admiral said with a smirk that Brooks could feel through the line.
“Anything good?” he inquired.
“Depends on what you call good. Ever heard of the Dragon’s Triangle?”
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