He inclined his head slightly when reminded that the mission had to be completed successfully before any other action could be considered, and he agreed. The mission would always be the most important aspect of his wakefulness, and it was drilled into him too hard to let it go either. However, the notion that something came after the mission was interesting in a way that testing new weapons was. He had never done anything beyond on his own volition before.
His eyes flicked to the smile that the other weapon wore, studying the brief expression; it made the other weapon's blue eyes come alive. The very fact stopped him from ascending to the roof, and he leaned into the fingers caressing through his hair. His mouth suddenly felt dry; why was that?
"You're in the direct line of fire more than I am," he reminded. It was his own way of insisting the other weapon was careful as well, but then he was climbing to a good vantage point and setting up his sniper rifle. He had no concern for the blond, aware that together the mission was incapable of failing unless one or both of them malfunctioned.
He settled in, resting another munitions clip next to his elbow as he stared down the scope and scanned. The first target to scramble from the building died on the doorstep, spattering the one man following with brains and blood. The second died quickly and with a shocked look. Then his gaze swept the yard, finding multiple targets and taking each one out with good sniping. He paused only long enough to refill his clip, but his eyes were still looking down the scope.
When the panic swelled and men tried to go back inside when the wall became entirely inaccessible because he could see them every time they went close, he eased the pressure to get them back inside. Let them realize the impossibility of their situation. Two weapons designed for this just picking them off one-by-one. He only received return fire once, but it was only because the flash of his bullet from the end of the silencer. The shooter didn't stand a chance when he turned his attention on them.
It was a killing ground, bodies laying in blood and not a sound. When the trickle of men came to an end, he held his position all the same. Softly, more to himself but it sounded down his communication unit all the same, he hummed a tune. It was just a bunch of notes that had no base in his skull, but he still hummed it all the same.
no subject
His eyes flicked to the smile that the other weapon wore, studying the brief expression; it made the other weapon's blue eyes come alive. The very fact stopped him from ascending to the roof, and he leaned into the fingers caressing through his hair. His mouth suddenly felt dry; why was that?
"You're in the direct line of fire more than I am," he reminded. It was his own way of insisting the other weapon was careful as well, but then he was climbing to a good vantage point and setting up his sniper rifle. He had no concern for the blond, aware that together the mission was incapable of failing unless one or both of them malfunctioned.
He settled in, resting another munitions clip next to his elbow as he stared down the scope and scanned. The first target to scramble from the building died on the doorstep, spattering the one man following with brains and blood. The second died quickly and with a shocked look. Then his gaze swept the yard, finding multiple targets and taking each one out with good sniping. He paused only long enough to refill his clip, but his eyes were still looking down the scope.
When the panic swelled and men tried to go back inside when the wall became entirely inaccessible because he could see them every time they went close, he eased the pressure to get them back inside. Let them realize the impossibility of their situation. Two weapons designed for this just picking them off one-by-one. He only received return fire once, but it was only because the flash of his bullet from the end of the silencer. The shooter didn't stand a chance when he turned his attention on them.
It was a killing ground, bodies laying in blood and not a sound. When the trickle of men came to an end, he held his position all the same. Softly, more to himself but it sounded down his communication unit all the same, he hummed a tune. It was just a bunch of notes that had no base in his skull, but he still hummed it all the same.