One Plus Two Equals... - 22

All Auden had to do was what he was trained for. He sat on the window sill, gripped the cord and began to descend until his feet hit the narrow ledge below the target window. Holding the cord with one hand he flipped open his belt buckle, removed the small device it held, triggered it, and slammed it hard against the window. The glass broke, the device hit the floor and almost instantly a thin, noxious vapor filled the room.

Auden followed seconds later after clapping a small mask over his face, his feet taking out the rest of the glass. He clamped his teeth tightly together to keep from crying out when a shard of glass impaled his thigh for a moment, leaving a deep gash behind.

His targets wasted no time worrying about their subordinates, who were incapacitated by the vapor. Weapons appeared in their hands as they moved fluidly toward Auden.

His own weapons dropped into his hands. He ducked low, bringing the first one up faster than humanly possible to gut Vicario's companion. Even as he did, he was on the move. He could see Vicario fighting off the effects of the vapor as it finally began to get to him. Auden swirled around, sharp poisoned blades shooting out from one shoe. They tore Vicario from his knee to his hip, leaving long lines of blood behind. Seemingly unfazed, Vicario pointed his weapons at Auden and fired. As he did the poison hit his heart and he dropped like a poleaxed bull.

Auden wasn't far behind him in hitting the floor, but he remained aware, pulling out the thick blades which had come from Vicario's weapons. Blood followed but unless he passed out from losing it, it would stop soon enough. Healing was part of what he was.

He held on to consciousness by a bare thread as he crawled to the door. Only when he was out in the hallway, the door closed tightly behind him, did he remove the mask to gulp in fresh air. The gash in his thigh had already closed; the other two, however, were still open and leaking blood. Something on the blades, he thought angrily. Taking off his jacket, he pulled off his blood-soaked shirt, ripping it into several pieces, using two to staunch the blood, and then wrapping strips of the shirt around his shoulder and body to keep the compresses in place.

Now to get out of here. He made it to the elevator while putting his jacket on again, zipping it up. It was dark enough the blood didn't show even if the tears in it did. He heard sounds from the room he'd just left and kept stabbing the elevator button as if it would make it come faster. The door opened just as three men streamed out of the room. He knew they saw him and sighed as he stepped into the elevator. There was only one recourse now and he took it.