Blake set up his equipment swiftly and expertly. His explosives lined the heavy door to the warehouse and everyone held their breath anticipating the next move.
“Clear?” Blake called over the radio.
“Affirmative.” The team confirmed simultaneously.
The sound of mud and metal exploding, resonated over the street; smoke and dust clouded their vision briefly. Shouting could be heard from inside the warehouse, a surge of panicked footsteps rushing around in the darkness.
“On me!” Archer ordered his team as he edged into the building.
The team swiftly followed behind, crouching behind metal containers that assembled in the entrance. They were met immediately with gunfire. Flashes of light and sounds of gunfire filled the room. Johnson took out the first man, shooting him in the shoulder followed by the neck. He repositioned himself, lining his sights on his next target.
Two men stood at the other side of a second entrance, Archer aimed, squ
Cara watched as each man took their seats and strapped themselves in. Cara fidgeted in her seat, she glanced over to see Archer on the phone, her gut twisted as she caught his eye again. He muttered something into the phone before turning his back to her. She lowered her eyes, focusing on her feet, her gaze travelling over the grazes and scrapes that decorated them. She hated how she felt around him, he could make her feel like a million dollars with one look, but his actions still haunted her. She felt battered and tormented by so many unwanted emotions that it exhausted her. Cara leant her head back against the wall of the aircraft, the vibrations soothed her aching body but did nothing for the throbbing in her head. The aircraft peeled away from the runway, jostling as it picked up speed. In minutes they were ascending the expanse above, exhaustion had consumed Cara once more and she found herself falling peacefully asleep. As the plane assaulted the skies, Archer
Tears overwhelmed Cara, her dad’s arms enveloped her as she cried into his chest. He rocked her gently allowing her the moment to release her emotions. The men in the common room all stopped and stared at the scene before them. Johnson turned around from the sofa, eyes widened in shock. His eyes flickered to Archer who also wore the same thunderstruck expression. ‘DAD?’ Johnson mouthed at Archer who shrugged in response. The embrace lasted a minute before their boss peeled himself away, guiding Cara into the room. “Gents, this is my daughter. I expect you all to treat her with respect and make her feel welcome.” “Yes sir,” they all called out in unison. Her dad pushed her towards a small table, pulling out a seat for her. “Archer, first aid kit.” He ordered. Archer immediately pbeyed the command, rushing out the room. “I’ll be down the corridor if you need me.” Her dad spoke softly to her. Everyone stood still, mouths agape and
Cara took a moment to collect her thoughts. The steam that had built up from the showers now threatenedu to suffocate her. She turned the faucet off, allowing the steam to settle around her. She picked up her drenched clothes from the floor and headed back out of the washroom. The corridor was eerily empty, she could hear talking from the far side as she made her way to her room. Pushing the door open she was met with Archer’s tattooed torso. He spun around, his now dry trousers loosely hung around his hips as he slung them on. Her eyes travelled over his chest and abs, adorned with a large eagle at the top with writing; a transcript on his ribs and a lion across his abs. She had never fully appreciated the artwork that stained his skin before and her breathing hitched slightly as she devoured the sight. Archer coughed, bringing her attention back to his face. Cara shifted on the spot, had he noticed her ogling? He shook his hair with his hand, droplets of water spra
Cara avoided Archer the remainder of the day. Unable to look at his judgemental eyes or feel his inescapable presence. Fortunately, she had managed to eat something, the apple that was left on her plate amongst the sandwiches had sated her hunger slightly. As nightfall came, her tiredness took over. She rested her head on the pillow, the dull throb still evident but bearable. Her eyes closed softly as she allowed the darkness to envelop her. The peaceful sounds outside the window pulled her in. The breeze gently wisping through the trees and the faint sounds of cars passing by. Cara tossed and turned in her bed, darkness surrounded her and familiar footsteps echoed around her senses. She was back in her cell, the sight of nothingness invaded her vision. Suddenly, hands were reaching for her, slashing and slapping at her face. She tried to block the blows but they kept coming. They were calling her name, mocking her. “Cara.” The voices repeated. “Cara.” She he
Cara woke up feeling refreshed, her body still ached from the bruises but the throbbing in her head had subsided. The conversation from the night before echoed in her mind, she needed to get out of here. Being around Archer was the last thing she needed, what she needed was her own space. She pulled herself up from the bed, glancing down at the body on the floor. Archer lay with his head on his folded up sleeping bag, his arms crossed over his bare chest and his boots had been kicked off in disarray. The sight caused her heart to skip a beat, the shift causing her breathing to rush. His ink-stained skin rose and fell hypnotically, his hair swept over his forehead. She shifted quietly, attempting not to make a sound, holding her breath as if her life depended on it. She was unsure of the time, but she could hear noise outside the room, meaning there were others awake. She ventured out of the room, heading down the corridor. She reached the door at the end, the sign on
Cara had resigned herself to her room consistently for a week, enjoying the quiet solitude. She had only ventured out to grab some food when it wasn't busy, sometimes exploring further outside to sit on the grass or peek at the self-defence classes. Each time, O’Connell had caught her and asked her to join. As much as she wanted to, it scared her. The thought of being in a confrontational and aggressive situation frightened her. She had never been the type to fight but she couldn’t help but explore the possibility that she could change that. Archer had kept his distance from Cara, he knew she needed time and space and he willingly accepted it. The nightmares were a different story. Each night he would sit outside her room, listening intently. He could hear her panic; her strangled moans as she tossed and turned over in his bed. When he couldn't take anymore, he would cautiously enter the room, watching over her like he was her guard. Holding her hand gently until the dreams
Cara couldn't help herself, she hated feeling jealous. She had made it clear to him she wanted nothing to do with him, yet she was pining after the very man. She made her way back to her room, a shower calling to her. It was increasingly frustrating that she was constantly asking Johnson to keep lookout while she showered. It was a little before midday so she was certain that everyone else would be out, she decided to risk it. She headed into the washroom, making her way to the back of the tiled room. The area was separated by a white tiled wall, allowing two sections for showering. She stepped around it, peeling off her workout clothes and turning the faucet on the farthest side. Cara waited for the water to heat up as steam soon welled up in the room, like a mist rolling in. She stepped under the cascade, revelling in the refreshing feeling as it washed over her. She had soon finished washing and was enjoying the subdued tranquility when she heard a click as the th
Cara swiftly exited her room, finding O’Connell in the common area alone. His fiery features fixated on the tv as she watched him playing Call of Duty. “Good session.” He smiled, his focus fixed ahead of him. “Excuse me?” Cara blushed as she sat down beside him. “The class.” He paused the game, taking a moment to observe Cara’s flushed features. “Oh. Yeah, thank you for that.” She smiled back, feigning her initial reaction. “You have a mean upper-cut, I’ll give you that!” He laughed, nudging her. She laughed back in response, as a grumble left her stomach. “Hungry?” “Yeah.” “Let’s go then!” O’Connell stood up from the sofa, ironing out his uniform with his hands. Cara followed him out the building, taking the familiar path down towards the gym before following it the left. They stood outside another large building, the scent of roasted vegetables wafted around them. Cara watched more uniformed bodies entering the large