![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lyl_devilIt's Day 12 of ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
14valentines and today's topic is Economics & Work. The post can be found -> [here]
Title: Most Important Meal of the Day
Series: Spy Life #2
Author: Lyl (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lyl_devil)
Rating: PG
Character: Ezra Standish – Magnificent Seven
Fandom: Alias
Disclaimer: I don't claim any rights to either show. I just like to play in their sandboxes occasionally.
Prompt table -> HERE
Prompt – 056: Breakfast
Words: 479
Summary: Someone had sold him out. He would find them, and make them regret ever betraying him.
~!~
Someone had sold him out. He didn't know who it was, but that didn't matter at the moment. He would find them, and make them regret ever betraying him.
If he survived the next five minutes, of course.
More glass exploded around him, and Ezra's grip tightened on his gun. Whoever this was, they were well informed of his habits - as much as he had habits, anyway. Early on, he'd learned to not be predictable in his actions or habits, but there were things that you couldn't avoid. Having breakfast, for example. The red flash in the corner of his eye of a sight laser, on top of the prickly feeling of being watched, had led him to throw himself out of the way an instant before something exploded from the counter behind him.
A sniper with a high-powered rifle and silencer. Just what he needed with his morning coffee.
Ezra looked at the Glock clutched tightly in his hands, crouched down behind the counter at the rear of the restaurant, and almost sneered at it's uselessness. None of the weapons he carried were helpful in avoiding a long range assailant.
Looking to the side, he noticed terrified restaurant staff and customers, huddling together against the wall and behind chairs and tables that provided inadequate shelter against the high velocity bullets that continued to slam into wood and plaster all around him. Through the holes in the wooden counter, Ezra could see several unmoving bodies and knew it was only a matter of time before local law enforcement showed up and he would have an even bigger problem on his hands.
Hearing sirens off in the distance set him cursing silently. Ezra hated being forced into any action he hadn't already evaluated carefully. Luckily, some of his associates refused to let him 'roam about' without a few unorthodox surprises, for which he would be eternally grateful.
Reaching into one of his hidden pockets, he retrieved a small metal cylinder. Pressing the button on the top, he lobbed it over the counter into the main seating area. It only took several seconds for the device to fill the area with a blue smoke, giving Ezra the cover he needed to slip out the back door.
There were no surprises awaiting him, telling him that whoever had been shooting at him, had been confident that they could succeed.
A failing he was more than willing to exploit.
Down the back alley, he made it to the end of the block by the time the authorities arrived, and again cursed his unknown assailant. He had lost a very valuable briefcase in the ruckus, and his current attire was completely ruined.
A few more twists and turns, and Ezra was safely away from his ill-fated breakfast and the resulting destruction.
It wasn't until then that he realized he'd been shot.
END
14valentines and today's topic is Economics & Work. The post can be found -> [here]Title: Most Important Meal of the Day
Series: Spy Life #2
Author: Lyl (
lyl_devil)Rating: PG
Character: Ezra Standish – Magnificent Seven
Fandom: Alias
Disclaimer: I don't claim any rights to either show. I just like to play in their sandboxes occasionally.
Prompt table -> HERE
Prompt – 056: Breakfast
Words: 479
Summary: Someone had sold him out. He would find them, and make them regret ever betraying him.
~!~
Someone had sold him out. He didn't know who it was, but that didn't matter at the moment. He would find them, and make them regret ever betraying him.
If he survived the next five minutes, of course.
More glass exploded around him, and Ezra's grip tightened on his gun. Whoever this was, they were well informed of his habits - as much as he had habits, anyway. Early on, he'd learned to not be predictable in his actions or habits, but there were things that you couldn't avoid. Having breakfast, for example. The red flash in the corner of his eye of a sight laser, on top of the prickly feeling of being watched, had led him to throw himself out of the way an instant before something exploded from the counter behind him.
A sniper with a high-powered rifle and silencer. Just what he needed with his morning coffee.
Ezra looked at the Glock clutched tightly in his hands, crouched down behind the counter at the rear of the restaurant, and almost sneered at it's uselessness. None of the weapons he carried were helpful in avoiding a long range assailant.
Looking to the side, he noticed terrified restaurant staff and customers, huddling together against the wall and behind chairs and tables that provided inadequate shelter against the high velocity bullets that continued to slam into wood and plaster all around him. Through the holes in the wooden counter, Ezra could see several unmoving bodies and knew it was only a matter of time before local law enforcement showed up and he would have an even bigger problem on his hands.
Hearing sirens off in the distance set him cursing silently. Ezra hated being forced into any action he hadn't already evaluated carefully. Luckily, some of his associates refused to let him 'roam about' without a few unorthodox surprises, for which he would be eternally grateful.
Reaching into one of his hidden pockets, he retrieved a small metal cylinder. Pressing the button on the top, he lobbed it over the counter into the main seating area. It only took several seconds for the device to fill the area with a blue smoke, giving Ezra the cover he needed to slip out the back door.
There were no surprises awaiting him, telling him that whoever had been shooting at him, had been confident that they could succeed.
A failing he was more than willing to exploit.
Down the back alley, he made it to the end of the block by the time the authorities arrived, and again cursed his unknown assailant. He had lost a very valuable briefcase in the ruckus, and his current attire was completely ruined.
A few more twists and turns, and Ezra was safely away from his ill-fated breakfast and the resulting destruction.
It wasn't until then that he realized he'd been shot.
END