1 A wild chase

It was a beautiful day outside. Birds were singing, flowers were blooming. The sun was slowly sinking behind the horizon. Fields of canola swaying gently in the wind, which blew up and down the hills. The epitome of a peaceful landscape.

At the edge of those fields stood an old manor. Framed by lush trees, it was shrouded in a pleasant amount of shade. A deserted but well cared for garden added to its mystique. Only a half dozen black vans in the driveway attested to human presence.

But as tranquil as the outside appeared, as chaotic was the atmosphere inside the manor. Several dozen people in futuristic combat gear were spread around the house. They chased after a young man in his late twenties.

Who was currently hiding in a small broom closet.

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Avior was annoyed. Not angry or enraged, simply annoyed. He expected that some of his dear relatives would take action soon. He just didn't think that it would be this soon. And he didn't expect them to be able to convince part of the family's f*cking secret service to do the dirty work for them.

"Must have cost them a fuckton of money and favors to bribe them," he mumbled to himself.

The secret service of the Draconis family consisted of only the most elite military and intelligence personnel. They were recruited from all over the world. And with the financial assets of the Draconis family, they had access to the best training facilities, medical and nutritional science, and the best gear that money can buy.

*clank*

The slide of Aviors pistol snapped into place with minimal noise. A special design based on the Beretta M9. Its cartridge held fifteen 9mm rounds with an additional one already in the chamber. Apart from that, two combat knifes strapped to a belt hidden by his blazer and a small holster of smoke grenades the former owner of this manor had kept in his office for whatever reason. All in all, he felt seriously outgunned. Probably because he was.

*Huuuhhh*

He exhaled all the air in his lungs to shake off the stress.

"Anyway. Time to move."

He carefully listened for any activity in the hallway. Silence. He opened the door, just a bit. Nothing. A few shouts and the sound of combat boots in the distance. But the corridor was empty.

He leaped into action. Trying to make as little sound as possible, he hurried along the wall towards the East wing. The staircase there was his best bet to get to the emergency room. Without enemy encounter, he would be down there in less than two minutes.

But just as he sped around the corner,...

*BANG BANG – BANG BANG*

*TUMPF TUMPF – TUMPF TUMPF*

"Shit!"

Avior cursed under his breath. A group of three secret service agents had arrived at the other end of the corridor he just came from and immediately opened fire.

Avior jumped into cover. Just a bit slower and those bullets wound have hit him.

A glance at the wall opposite of him revealed the impact holes. Only two though. He didn't need to feel the dust on his left sleeve to know the other two were embedded in the wall in his back.

'5.56 mm assault rifle. Cobra Squad?'

This discovery stumped him a little. But for the moment, he had more urgent things to take care of.

He took one of the smoke grenades and pulled the pin with his right hand, which was still holding the pistol. The moment the pin was loose, Avior turned around, and without leaving cover or properly aiming he shot two rounds into the corridor. He didn't care if they hit anything. All that mattered now, was to stop the agents' advance. He withdrew just in time for the next round of enemy fire to barely miss. Without hesitation, he threw the smoke grenade into the corridor and started sprinting. Now that the enemy knew where he was there was no need for stealth anymore.

'The smoke grenade should buy me a few moments. I need to hurry.'

Avior ran along a short hallway, turned around the next corner, and finally reached the staircase. Here he stopped. He could already hear other teams approaching. From both up- and downstairs. Members of the Cobra Squad usually moved in groups of three. And from the sound of it at least two such teams were coming from upstairs. In contrast, he could only hear one team approach from downstairs.

Either way, he was cornered.

"Fuck it!"

He didn't have much of a choice, really. If he had to confront the agents anyway, he might as well make it count.

He took another smoke grenade and with his pistol in hand, he descended the stairs. The staircase consisted of two counter-directional flights of stairs joined by a landing. Halfway down the first flight, Avior pulled the pin and threw the smoke grenade at an angle against the wall. The grenade bounced off and down the second flight, right into the face of the agents that had just arrived at the foot of the staircase.

'Now or never!'

Without a moment of hesitation, Avior jumped across the handrail. He landed as gracefully as someone leaping from one flight of stairs to another shrouded in smoke possibly could. Meaning he landed with both feet on different stairs, tumbled, finally lost his balance, and nearly knocked down one of the agents.

Said agents were plenty busy reorienting themselves due to the sudden smoke attack. But sadly they were not nearly busy enough to not notice a fully grown man metaphorically falling from the sky. But thanks to the restricted vision it took them a second to realize the man in front of them was their target.

Trying not to wonder too much how he didn't sprain his ankles during this stunt, Avior used this moment of inaction to close in.

With his free hand, he drew one of the knives on his belt and did a downwards strike, aimed at the neck of the agent closest to him.

But those were trained elite soldiers. Experienced combatants all of them. How could they be so easy to take down.

The agent in question raised his rifle and deflected the knife with the barrel shroud. But why stop there? After all the gun was now already almost pointing at the target. It would be a huge missed opportunity. Following this logic, the agent didn't stop in his movement and went into a combat stance.

But Avior didn't wait for his opponent to get ready either. He kept pressing forward and past the agent. He had no intention to directly engage any of his pursuers. That would be suicide. Still, as he rushed past the agent he didn't miss this chance to fire a bullet directly at his head.

Thanks to the top-notch equipment even a shot from such proximity probably wasn't enough to kill the agent. But he could still not escape a serious concussion, at the very least. Effectively taking him out of the fight, which was more than enough for now.

'One down, two left.'

Facing the other two wouldn't be nearly as simple. He lost the element of surprise. And worse, this short exchange took a hefty toll on Avior. In contrast to the enemy squad members, he didn't have one of those modern combat suits. Which meant he lacked a helmet and face mask. The smoke burned in his eyes, nose, and throat. With every breath he took he inhaled more and more. It started to build up inside his lungs. He had to make this quick.

With two quick steps, Avior made his way over to the wall, away from the handrail. Meanwhile he fired another three rounds at each agent. Just to keep them busy.

One of them backed away. He tried to get back into the corridor they just came from.

The other chose to engage in close combat. His target just got down the staircase. He had no escape routes. With a quick flick of his fingers, a bayonet sprang forth from the rifle.

Avior, who never stopped moving, maneuvered himself exactly between the wall and his attacker. That limited his dodging options, but also prevented the third one from shooting at him.

Not that he had much time to worry about that. Agent no.2 closed the distance. Avior barely dodged a quick stab at his torso before trying to retaliate with his knife. But his opponent used his rifle to disrupt his movements, making it impossible for Avior to even get close to landing a hit. He also was too close to effectively use his gun. And the agent still pressed on. It didn't take Avior long to realize what No.2 was aiming for.

The agent wanted to trap him by pressing him against the wall. He wanted to stall for time until reinforcements arrived. He was armed and armored after all, meaning he didn't need to fear injuries as long as he paid attention to his gun.

Avior did not have this luxury. By now the small area they fought in was completely filled with smoke. He even had trouble making out his foe. Then he felt a sharp pain in his right shoulder. He had missed another thrust of the opponent's bayonet and caught it with his shoulder instead.

'Goddamn… bloody… motherf*cker! I don't have time for this shit!'

Avior had had serious problems adequately expressing his frustration, which didn't happen often.

'Fuck this shit!'

With an adrenaline-filled outburst, Avior gathered all his strength and pushed agent no. 2 back a little. He used this opportunity to break off and escape to the side. He raised his pistol hand as best as was possible, elbow propped up at his hip, and fired another four rounds at agent no. 2.

Not even bothering whether he hit or not, Avior stormed off. He dropped his knife and pulled the last smoke grenade from the holster. With his teeth, he pulled the pin. No reason to care about his dental health now.

He sprinted into the corridor the third agent had retreated into. The smoke had slowly begun to invade here as well, providing minimal cover. But after a few steps, even the last wafts had disappeared. Now, the smoke grenade in his hand was the only source of potential cover, gathering smoke around him.

But Avior rushed forward, even as the last remaining agent opened fire. Then, mid-sprint, he planted his right foot on the floor and used the energy from his dash to hurl the grenade as far down the corridor as possible. Never in his life had Avior been so glad his sports and martial arts instructors had insisted on training his ambidexterity.

By now the grenade had reached its maximal output. The thick trail of smoke soon came crashing down, cutting visibility in the corridor to only a few feet for a short amount of time.

As soon as the grenade left his hand, Avior stormed ahead once again. Not directly at the agent though. He moved at a slight angle towards a large fire extinguisher. The agent had positioned himself next to it.

'Chance,' Avior thought to himself, running low on physical and mental stamina. Lucky for him the fire extinguishers in this manor weren't encased.

With a last-ditch effort, he took the gun in his uninjured left hand and fire at the fire extinguisher.

*BANG*

*THUMP*

The first shot had missed.

Another few steps and...

*BANG*

*CLANK—PPPFFFF*

It hit. The fire extinguisher erupted as the pressurized powder inside exploded outwards. Even the highly trained agent didn't expect this. Not only did he get distracted, but he also couldn't see anything anymore due to the powder in the air.

Avior used this chance to run past him. Unfortunately, for some reason, his left leg gave in and he stumbled into the agent. Without hesitation, Avior fired his last round into the body of the agent he could barely see.

Steeling himself, he limped as fast as he could into a room halfway down the corridor. The first thing he did was lock the door. He knew it wouldn't keep them busy for long, but it would buy time nonetheless. And if he was lucky they may not even notice he fled in here for a while.

Still, he had little time. He quickly checked why his leg had quit the service. What greeted him was a bullet wound. In his adrenaline rush, he hadn't noticed how one of the bullets had hit his lower leg. The bullet went cleanly through. Thankfully it seemed no important blood vessels had been hit.

Avior hastily unsheathed his second knife, cut up the sleeve of his blazer, and used the cloth as a makeshift bandage. The whole process was slowed down due to his wounded shoulder, but with liberal employment of teeth and feet, as well as a general disregard for basically everything at this point, Avior finished in roughly two minutes.

Taking a deep breath, Avior tried to calm himself but only ended up with a coughing fit. Suppressing the pain he stood up, ready to move on.