one would call the girl emotionless. a pale brunette with her hair short behind her head but not shaved to closely around her sharp features. the men called Allison strange, but Agamemnon swore by the girls ability. despite the age of firearms, she wielded a more sinister weapon. as always, the meetings took place in some stench alley which he had grown tired of in many years in dealing with the turks. a witless people who failed to figure out either the business on their own or always cried to the EOS to bail them out of a predicament easily avoided by precautions.
such as tonight, a sliver of doubt inked the back of his mind which is why he called out Allison today. lost in her music behind those red earbuds, the girl rocked in her own world, eyelids fluttering half closed and her light pink lips whispering the lines of a song on the fear of annihilation, loss of faith, desperation.
“EOS has always been good to us.” damian mentioned as the girl rocked off on her internal beat. Agamemnon wondered if the pat down was necessary. allison had a disdain to automatic weapons. why was he sucking in the air so sharply, the environment was suffocating him as if fear were a physical entity trying to slit through him at that moment.
“Aye, good business partners. Whats this about damian?” who only smirked.
“business. sorry mate, people want you gone.”
21 seconds. the longest moment in his life.
the blur, a collection of brunette whirled from beside him. physically — allison covered more ground than any other non-human he had witnessed. the crack of the semi-automatic familiar, but, he stood in amazement watching her as she displaced him in her speed. the man had to adjust, taking in the new target whose dark emerald eyes smirked as a hand reached beneath her breast, made a motion and damians head rocked back.
the thin handle of a throwing knife barely registering as the bullet he fired cracked the brick wall of the alley way. scattering, many failed to reach their holsters, unsnap their straps before the girl was on top of them. barely a few inches of the large serrated knife sunk twice as a precise bite. the first in dark glasses had his arm held against his chest. she struck him twice, once to the same left side she held the knife in. slipping in tightly deep. he jumped. again in the neck, half the length, twisting before she ducked.
from across the alleyway a snub nosed revolver rolled another bullet into the chamber. the first shot precise, but finishing off the man with a dime sized red hole in the wake of the fire. she was upon him. the blade reaching under the sternum this time. she lifted briefly before sliding back to watch him struggle to reach, to breathe, to react.