15 for 15 Contest --- Closed

There was no way to be sneaky in this rickety old building, which was exactly why she'd chosen this place to hide in. In a time of war, stealth was a wasted asset. Loki was too experienced to fall prey to false securities like porcelain floors and well oiled doors. They both were. One hell of a woman that Shaper was. Too bad he couldn't convince her she was an idiot.

The last door at the end of the hall was the rustiest of all. Even this made Royce roll his eyes. With her animal hearing she had to have known ten minutes ago he was there. So why the final precaution? The question lead him nowhere, but to spinning the levers to open the monstrosity anyway. As it creaked open he realized, the entire frame was part of the door.

There was no cover.

He kicked against the monstrous weight and rolled in, trigger finger itching and his eyes keen to the slightest movement. Loki wasn't hard to find. She stood beside an open window wearing nothing but a sports bra and skin tight capri pants. Sweat dripped over her eyes as if she'd been running. Or preparing to run. Her back remained to him, but her long ears were stretched about her, listening to his labored breath.

All of the opportunity and still he didn't shoot.

"What's the matter, Royce? You stabbed me in the back once, shooting should be a piece of cake." She inquired after a lengthy silence.

But it wasn't silent. There were gunshots of automatic weapons, explosions, people crying and screaming. The music of war. He lowered his firearm. Loki's ears twitched at the crunching of his leather jacket.

"I'll make you regret that. Much sooner than later," she growled and leaped out of the window. He started for the opening than stopped. Her sheet had said she was a proficient free runner. Instead he turned to exit as he'd come. He pulled a radio from his belt, "Mission was a failure. She was gone out of the top floor window before I arrived. Watch the rooftops, she is not travelling conventionally."

Royce looked back once more regretfully fearing he would be looking there, over his shoulder, until they met again.