Winter Soldier?
'Shit, shit, shit, I wasn't supposed to fight here!' John almost screamed. He wasn't sure what came over him.
How could he lunge at a guy with a damned gun when there was another behind him?! Where did the confidence and courage come from?
'Wait, is it the body?' His mind directly went to his thumping heart, the Hanma physique; that had to be it. 'Oh my gahh!'
"Yakub? Hey Yakub, what you doing, bud?" Another voice closed in with the heavy boots, headed towards the washroom, calling out to the people that he had knocked out. "Jacob? Oi, answer me you cunts!"
'This isn't the time.' John calmed himself, back pressed against the wall, right beside the two.
They had already taken down the heavy door, so he couldn't use that. However, his hand very aptly pulled away at the helmet of the second guy he had knocked out, eyes following the barrel of the gun hovering before the door like he had done this a hundred times.
From the controlled breathing, John could tell the guy was out of his range. There was no point in grabbing the weapon at that distance. These guys had pistols and even grenades; if the guy decided to throw them in, he'd be toast.
'I don't want to test the strength of brotherhood between terrorists.' John had to get close, and to cover the distance he needed time.
And to create that necessary time, he threw the helmet through the door. In situations where tensions run high, the body reacted at the smallest changes in the surroundings.
That was what happened with the third terrorist. The moment his eyes, that have been trying to scan the bathroom from beyond the door, registered the blur passing up, his finger squeezed the trigger.
Flashes of yellow filled the passage as bullet casings tinkered over the tiles. His gun followed the blur that had come to a stop at his feet, a black helmet.
Before he could even take another breath, two hands shot forward and gripped his wrists. And the white shoe that had just stomped on the floor started to rise, aiming for his head. Given the closeness, a kick like that wasn't possible without insane flexibility.
However, when the heel connected to his chin, his head snapped upwards. An explosion of spittle, blood, and teeth splattering on the ceiling.
John watched the man slump to his knees, and only then did he let go. After that, he quickly pulled out the earpiece from him and placed it near his ear.
'How many of them are there?' His heart continued to pound away at his ribs as the line stayed silent for a moment, then the answer came.
"This is Ajax speaking. Did you check up on Yakub and Jacob?" It was a voice laced with a heavy Russian accent, but aside from him, no one else spoke aside from faint static and Ajax's voice. "Billy, did Spiderwoman arrive already? Billy?"
'They were after Gwen?' John's face hardened. Was this terrorist attack an attempt to catch Spiderwoman?
If so, then why did he have to get stuck in the middle of it?!
'No John, focus, the milk is already spilt.' Aside from the three, this guy on the phone seemed like the last one left.
John was wondering where he could find this guy, but faint footsteps approached. Quiet and controlled.
By the time he got to his feet, a man about 6 feet tall walked into the passage connecting the bank's lobby to the washroom area. He had light armour clinging to his big frame. An AK in his right hand, without a strap, and the handgun on his hip with a few knives in the camo vest.
"A surprise this is." Ajax whistled. The guy didn't even bother raising his rifle and just stood there, farming aura or something.
"I don't want trouble." John's hand went behind his back as the system panel appeared before him.
"You don't get to say that with a smile like that, my friend." A twisted smirk split his face, showing the gold-covered teeth and pale gums.
"A smile?" John's brain worked overtime, trying to find a way forward. The distance between them was 10 meters; this man was different; he could feel it.
"Oh? Is this your first time tasting blood?" His chuckle echoed in the passage as he glanced at his defeated subordinates. "Colour me impressed."
"I don't know what you are yapping about." John stood straight, raising his left hand high before throwing three grenades towards the target with the right. "But thanks for that shithead."
Ajax's brow shot up as the grenades landed on the tiles. They landed on an angle and fanned out, forcing him to jump back in a hurry as these grenades had a wide area of attack. But what surprised him was the boy running straight at him.
He didn't care for the grenades; he didn't care for his armed opponent. The heavy stomps had already covered 7 meters in that short moment, like he only had one goal. And that was crushing Ajax.
'Does he not know how grenades work?' The man blinked at the relentless charge, but something clicked when he looked at those ferocious eyes.
Even as the time for triggering passed, the grenades didn't go off. They weren't the same type his team carried, but he was familiar with the type and their trigger conditions. The only reason they wouldn't go off by now, as John rushed over them, was because they weren't real.
"Fuck." He cursed, rolling on his back before raising the AK, but John had already reached him.
He swatted the AK away with a kick, already onto him as the rifle slid across the tiles. He had used the system shop to buy dud grenades and summoned them in his hidden hand while conversing.
The pins flying up worked as a much better distraction than he expected, but what made the bigger difference was this guy taking him lightly.
John grabbed onto the drawn handgun, twisting the muzzle away from his body. With a twist, John pressed the magazine release button, kicking it away before it hit the ground and slid the barrel back, ejecting the loaded bullet.
But before he could bring up his right knee to snap Ajax's hand, the man released the handgun and slid back.
"That was marvellous." Ajax's eyes seemed to shine in a bloody way.
But John wasn't in the correct mental space to converse. The only thing dominating his mind was how to step on this obstacle before him. Not even defeat, he had to step over it and crush it under his heel.
'This is bad…' John's face started to hurt; the heart thumping in his chest got faster.
His hand swung in a wide arc as he took a boxing stance, heading straight for Ajax's head. But the latter had his guard up. John's fist connected to the guard. A sharp crack split the silence as Ajax was slammed into the nearby wall.
But he was smiling through his bloody teeth. He took the hit on purpose. In doing so, he created an opening. His steel-toed boots dug into the right side of John's ribcage. Landing a clear and direct liver kick.
Any normal or trained human would crumble to the ground by now. Ajax had seen the strongest of men whimper like a woman after being hit with this. But that didn't happen this time.
John just stood upright, not a trace of pain or fear on his face. His body had already processed the kick, and the counter followed. The red circle expanded from his feet, zooming in on his opponent like a scope.
Ajax felt chills break out over his body; the target was his chin. What would hit him, he wasn't sure. But he knew something would hit.
'Guar—!' Even though he had completed the guard, the oncoming punch broke through.
As his chin shattered, Ajax's eyes shook. That punch. He remembered it. He had been on the receiving end of it for most of his adolescence, right until that program was cancelled.
'Winter Soldier… it feels just like his hits.' As blood and teeth choked his airway, Ajax's head struck the floor with a heavy thud as he passed out.
...
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