I sneaked towards the enemy tent, careful not to make a sound. My life and honour depended on the success of this mission. If I fail, I will die along with hundreds of thousands innocent civilians, and I will be forever remembered as the idiot of an agent who failed to stop a mad terrorist leader.
Beads of sweat ran down my face, and the silent emptiness that was around me nearly drove me crazy. I gripped the cold, metallic handle of my assault rifle to remind and reassure myself that I had not come unprepared. My nerves calmed a little, and I continued on.
The terrorists were very smart. They housed their leader in a tent in the most unsuspecting place – in an ordinary village. It was only by mere chance that a spy from our side spotted the leader. The good thing was that the terrorists had grown arrogant from their past successes and let their guard down. Now it was up to me to terminate the terrorist leader.
I crept closer to the tent; my heart was pounding now. I could hear it pumping in my chest, as if wanting to break free.
“Concentrate!” I muttered under my breath, this was the crucial part, I had to keep a steady hand and drive that sacred bullet straight into that ugly terrorist’s head. I stopped for a moment, checking that my silencer was still attached properly, even though I had just checked moments before.
I gently prodded open the tent, just enough so that I can look inside. There was the terrorist leader, pacing around the tent somewhat nervously, as if he had been expecting me. I felt a chill down my spine. I started doubting myself. What if I couldn’t do it? What if I fail? What if it was a trap?
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I gathered myself once more, this time I was determined. I fired the shot.
The terrorist leader fell without a sound, I had succeeded. I entered the tent in hope of finding papers or plans of their next attack. Suddenly I heard a noise, the piercing clank of an empty cartridge hitting the ground, I ran and dived out of the tent, but it was too late.
The bullets of a dozen machineguns, rifles, and pistols tore through the tent, reducing it to tatters. I felt the bullets hit me – hard.
I lay on the ground, covered in red, I knew it was finished, I was ambushed, the world was doomed to a future of cruel tyranny.
Then I felt a pair of hands, pulling me up by the scruff of the neck, raising me from the dead, was it God himself?
“How many times do I have to tell you not to have paintball fights in your school uniform?!” shouted my mother, as she dragged me all the way home.