“Because your embassy is miles away, and her apartment is just there.” The woman replied, pointing to Freyr’s grey colonial mansion block on the edge of the park. “Come on, let's go.” She urged, rising to her feet and hauling Freyr up from the bench, pistol down at her side. Tightly holding onto Freyr’s arm, she began weaving through the last of the evening crowd, eyes on a swivel. Freyr looked back and could see Vreta following behind. There was a yell ahead and she whirled back around.

An old lady wearing a filthy apron appeared from round the side of one of the stalls brandishing a chef’s knife. She charged at Freyr with the knife at stomach height, shouting at the top of her lungs. The agent let go of Freyr’s arm, stabilised her stance, brought the pistol up and shot her silenced pistol. The old lady clattered to the floor and lay still, her knife skittering along the cobbles. Once they saw the gun, the crowd around them erupted into panicked yelling and began running in all directions. 

All except a man, the one Freyr had seen earlier, who smashed through a bamboo partition with two meathooks and ambitiously swung one at the agent from her other side. Her hood coming off to expose her short blond locks, she pivoted and leant back, the first hook coming within inches of her face. The agent pushed Freyr roughly back towards Vreta, raised her left arm to parry the second swing. The hook scraped against something hard under her coat. The agent stuck her pistol against the man's chest and shot twice. He stumbled backwards, crashing back through the remains of the partition.

“Two hostiles down, moving VIP to her residence.” The agent whispered into her comms set, looking back to check on Freyr and Vreta. “Everyone ok?” She mouthed. Freyr nodded. The agent guided them through the now empty marketplace to the leafy arch Freyr had entered through not long before. After a look through, she rounded the corner with her pistol up, and Freyr followed soon after.

The first thing she noticed was the lanterns that usually lighted up the path through the park to the road on the other side were dark. The whole area was pitch black. Freyr nearly stumbled and fell, but then she could feel a firm hand grab her arm and guide her along the sloping pathway. The agent moved quickly, calling back encouragingly for Vreta. “Come on, let's move, quickly!”

[hr]
Out in the gloom of the park, either side of the pathway, ten men and women with compact night vision goggles emerged from underneath their signal dampening blankets. They picked up their weapons and began sprinting toward their target.

[hr]

Freyr estimated that the three of them were almost exactly halfway between the street food market and the road by her building when they attacked. The first thing was the sound of multiple sets of shoes thudding on the wet grass. Then she faintly made out shapes running at them from either side. “Run!” The agent hissed, yanking her arm and setting off at a run, taking Freyr with her. It wasn’t until ten seconds of solid running later that Freyr finally looked behind and noticed Vreta wasn’t with them. In fact, no one was. All she could see was a writhing mass of dark shapes in the moonlight, and the sounds of muffled shouting and the scraping of metal. "Where's Vreta?!" Freyr half-shouted, but the agent didn't reply as she pulled her into a run again.