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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books.php/entry_id/764562
Rated: 13+ · Book · Action/Adventure · #1901271
Formally known as The Assassin. Be sure to select newest last on the sort bar for chapters
#764562 added November 1, 2012 at 4:10am
Restrictions: None
The Evil Within
Russian Army Arsenal Moscow, Russia
2200 Local

        The area around the depot was not really well guarded. Ever since the fall of the Soviet Union security was not the same. Robert Knight loved that about the new Russia, it didn't take three people to open a safe. Knight stood in the back as he watched his men work at opening the door to a large warehouse. Knight was a medium height, and real skinny. His blue eyes pierced through the night struck fear into the hearts of those he worked with. His demeanor was wicked and he was ruthless, so ruthless that if any of his men failed at any task he entrust them with them he killed them. But if you were the lucky few that were in Knight's favor them you might get your own house, a women and a nice sports car. Hearing the lock giving away, he turned to see the door opening. His men quickly moved inside making sure it was secure for their boss to enter. Entering into the warehouse Knight looked around at the many crates. Walking down the line he read the boxes, until finally stopping at one.
        "This is the one bring the truck over and get it loaded up," yelled Knight to his men. "And hurry up those guards are going to be missed and I want to get our item and leave!" snapped Knight as we watched his men run back toward the entrance. His men brought an old army troop truck over, and started to load up the box. All was going to plan; He got his buyers merchandise and was almost done with Phase One.
        Picking up his phone, Knight dialed a number from memory. "My friend, Phase One is about to be completed. We will discuss Phase Two tomorrow," said Knight into the phone as he disconnected the phone. When the box was done being loaded Knight climbed into the passenger seat of the truck. The truck headed out of the warehouse and headed toward the entrance of the arsenal once they got on the road on the outside, they headed for the Moscow International Airport. When they arrived they went to where the private planes were. A cargo plane was waiting for them when they arrived at the airport. As his men loaded the truck on the plane he called over one of them.
        "Number eight please some here," Knight said with his back to his man. "Did you plant the explosives inside the warehouse like I told you too?"
        "Yes sir. I did just like you ask," replied a tall man. He the sound of fear in his voice, knowing that he had forgotten to armed them."
        "Then why did Number six come in after you and ended up having to arm them?" Giving a slight nodded a dart flew into the neck of number eight. Falling to his knees he grabbed his neck. The poison was slowly going through his body. "I don't like failure, nor do I like the fact that my men can't do their jobs without me over looking over their shoulders. For your Failure you will die, you can feel your veins burning with the poison now can't you?" Knight looked at number eight and walked by his body. Pulling out his cell phone again Knight sent a text message to a receiver located at the warehouse. Looking at the horizon from the back of his cargo plane Knight saw a flash of light as the warehouse exploded, destroying any evidence of what it was that they took. Walking to the front of the plane, and allowing the back ramp to raise sealing up the plane. The plane headed down the runway to prepare for take-off. Looking out the window Knight smiled at himself, he was about to strike the deal of his life and everything was running according to plan. Feeling the plane taking off he relaxed into his seat, time to go home. Looking at the time he saw he will have plenty of time to get some sleep when he got home before his party. Knight loved throwing fancy parties, that's was the benefit of being rich and powerful.
© Copyright 2012 William R. Kangas (UN: kangas at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
William R. Kangas has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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