2 Pistols and a Hoodie (a R6S fanfiction)

Starting from where I left off in chapter 15

Song of the chapter: Boulevard of Broken Dreams by Green Day

"Ah, Nathan, I trust you have a reason for knocking out Montagne in the corridor." "He was assaulting T.J. Do you need another explanation?" "Still, you have to apologize to him, T.J was playing his music a bit too loud back there." "Fine, fine, I'll do it. Just keep them away from each other. I don't wanna curb stomp him again." 

Out of the office, Nathan didn't head to apologize. Instead, he headed to Bess's room. Or, more accurately, to the door of Bess's room. He then hid around the corner until he saw Bess exit her room. Once he was sure nobody was watching, he darted into her room and started ransacking for her phone and laptop. Soon enough, he found both, and prepared to leave, but something metallic clicked against his skull. 

"No funny business, Nathan." Bess had her Nagant revolver aimed at Nathan's head. "Why?" "You should've known better than to search through my stuff without permission. I know you want the truth, but that doesn't give you the right to do it." "Well... you see..." "Fine." Bess put her revolver down. "Here's my phone and laptop. If you wanna check it, check it. It's not me anyways, so it wouldn't hurt." 

Nathan took the items and left, saying "I really don't want to find out that it's you." "Yeah, me neither." Before Nathan could register what that meant, something metal hit the back of his skull hard, sending him to another world far, far away. Before he lost his grip with reality, Nathan heard a female voice say 2 words. "Target neutralized." 

By the time Nathan came to, his hands were tied up to a bed and his feet were trussed up. His two pistols were missing, but if there was one thing Bess didn't know about Nathan, it was that he kept a small knife strapped to his shin under his jeans. With that, Nathan was free before you could say "jack knife". Sneaking to the garage was another story. The whole trip was just 200 metres, but with everyone looking for him, it was 10 times more difficult. This wasn't Hitman, this was real life. Thankfully, Nathan knew where the camera blind spots were, so he just had to be careful. 

Well, easier said than done. 

Somehow, some way, Nathan made it to his room without getting caught. But he had to deal with the recruits guarding his room. Nathan just grinned and cracked his knuckles, alerting the recruits to his presence. The sounds of a smackdown followed. A minute later, the recruits were reduced to a groaning, writhing mess on the ground. 

Fumbling around in his room, Nathan found his Kia Stinger's car keys, as well as his combat gear and his prize Desert Eagles. However, just as he was about to leave, he heard the familiar voices of Harry, Bess, Taina and Montagne approaching. Nathan gave a silent apology in his heart, and chucked a flashbang and a smoke grenade into the hallway. As the confused yells of the operators filled the corridor, Nathan rushed out, his mind already telling him which way to go on autodrive. A few bullets whizzed past Nathan, missing him by a very large margin. Soon, he reached the garage, but the doors were locked up with a lock and a chain. Nothing a .50 Action Express couldn't handle. 

The doors were blown open, and Nathan rushed to his Kia, twisting the key in the ignition. The roar of the twin-turbocharged V8 under the hood was deafening, and filled Nathan's system with even more adrenaline. With the pedal floored, the Kia shot out of the garage and down the runway, tires spinning half the way. Nathan made a mental note to convert his Stinger to all wheel drive if he survived this ordeal. The main gate was blocked up with a metal barrier a metre thick, and Nathan wasn't too confident in his front bullbar, so he scanned for another way out of the base. A few seconds later, he found it: a pile of dirt piled up near a low section of the fence surrounding the base. It was supposed to be for Mozzie to do dirt bike tricks in his spare time, but it was (fortunately) wide enough for a car. By now, the recruits on patrol had figured out the cause of the commotion and started firing at Nathan's Stinger; the armour gracefully holding itself together under a hail of 5.56 NATO bullets. With a mighty roar, the Kia Stinger crested the small dirt hill, and barely passed the barbed wire on top of the fence, landing on the other side with a thud, with the finely-tuned off road shocks and wheels absorbing the brunt of the impact. Once he was outside the base, Nathan did a 360 and stopped to catch his breath. He could already see the base's recruit jeeps streaming out of the hangars, so he floored the pedal and raced off down the dirt road connecting Hereford Base with the outside world.