PLOT PREMISE: Your muse has been kidnapped/captured by a rival gang/terrorists/a non-governmental organisation & taken to the middle of nowhere. My muse, Bradley, has been hired to get to YM, free YM, keep YM save and get YM to the extraction point 30 miles west.
BLOOD SPLATTERED AGAINST THE WALL as Bradley pulled the trigger, silenced rifle pressed deep into the enemy's neck. The southern sun had turned the metal bunker into a sauna by this point in the day, the smell of the heat radiating from the ground mixed with the sweat and blood. He caught the body before it could hit the ground, lowering it down gently so his position wasn’t compromised. Snapping his arms back in front of his eyes, he looks down the sights, quickly scanning the room from left to right and then doing a much slower scan the other way. His eyes narrowed slightly, the brief had anticipated many more hostiles than he’d encountered, and the eery silence told his gut that all was not well.
Without looking down, Bradley dropped into a crouch, one hand leaving his rifle to pat down the unnamed man and remove any ammunition for his own supply. Then, he pushed forward into the staircase. His target was on the fourth floor, dead center of the complex. Right now, he was on the second floor. The quiet sound of the metal moving as he pointed his gun up the center of the stairs and then downwards made him painfully aware of how alone he was right now. There was a friendly sniper on the roof of the building opposite, but Bradley knew he was out of his sight in this staircase. He needed to move, and fast.
Strategically he pushed up the stairs. There was a guard on the door, a young man. His back faced the military man. Bradley wasted no time in swinging his rifle to his back, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around the man, hand covering his mouth as his other arm wrapped around his neck tightly until the body went limp. Again, he assisted the body to the ground before peering through the crack in the door. Five hostiles, one target tied to a metal chair in the center.
“I have package insight. Proceeding to obtain,” Bradley whispered into the mic that was linked to his in-ear comms. Then, he took a deep breath and brought his rifle back around, aimed down sight, and shot the closest hostile in the head before kicking the door open and popping two bullets into every man. What he hadn’t accounted for was the one behind the door who pressed a gun into the back of his head. Bradley put his hands slowly into the air, and just as he heard the lips of the other part to speak, he turned, grabbed the man’s hand, stepped into his body, and emptied the clip into the ground. Bradley brought his head back before headbutting the other with considerable force, stepping back and pulling the pistol from his leg holster and shooting him through the eye.
Quickly, Bradley paced around the room, placing a finishing bullet in each other the hostiles’ heads before coming over to the target and pulling off the cloth that had been shoved between their teeth. “Shhh, don’t scream. Whisper,” he instructed in hushed tones as he leaned down to cut their ankle restraints. “I don’t know who you are. But apparently you’re important, or worth a lot of money... I don’t care which but if you want to get out of here alive, you need to do as I say, you understand?”
