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Footsteps echo down the hallway outside the abandoned office Medic and Spy have taken refuge in. Despite the shut and barricaded door, they can still make out muffled shouting from their pursuers.
“This was not part of the plan.” Spy groans, his back pressed flat against a bookshelf as he reloads his revolver.
“I sure hope it was not!” Medic whisper-shouts at Spy, ducking beneath the mahogany desk. “If it was, I would have a /very/ lengthy report to file, and a coworker to murder. Brutally.”
Spy sighs, triple checking that the sheaf of highly classified documents strapped to his side is secure. The entire lengthy mission was for nothing if they returned empty handed, and, personally, Spy would be /incredibly/ annoyed.
He did not infiltrate a hospital acting as a mafia front, train his team’s fucking /medic/ in the art of espionage, discover and seduce the boss of the entire operation, steal extremely restricted information, and get /shot at/ to be /unsuccessful./
He is a world class spy. He is a master of stealth and seduction. He is an agent of espionage and he is /better than that./ The mere thought of it makes his skin prickle with discomfort.
“When I find whoever pulled that alarm, I am going to make them regret not having died /long ago/ of a series of preventable diseases.”
Medic growls, forcing the tremor out of his hands. Doctors don’t show fear, especially not ones that have survived the horrors of war.
“In fact, if I get my hands on them, I am going to /give/ them a lethal bacterial infection. Or five. Maybe even a plague.”
Spy sighs, scanning the room for an escape route. The large window before them led to a sheer drop to the ground, with no obvious handholds for them to climb out onto, and nothing to cushion their falls.
If they were both twenty odd years younger, it would be a perfectly acceptable escape. But they are both rapidly approaching their 50s, and as it stands a fall like that would do more harm than finding off guards until they can find a better route.
There’s a slam at the door, and Spy winces. Their barricade will stand for long enough for them to escape, but only if they act quickly.
The vents are too high to reach even if Medic were to help him get up there. The balcony has the same issue as the window. Though… There is a smaller window hidden just behind the bookshelf.
Maybe if they were to move it, they could-..
“Are you.. still plotting revenge?”
“Of course I am! It’s always a great idea to start planning in advance.”
“But now of all times?”
“I need to be prepared in case we encounter them on the way out. I need to know exactly how I am going to eviscerate them.”
Spy sighs. He knows he’s not going to change Medic’s mind. He’s incredibly passionate about everything he does, which ranges from dubiously moral medical procedures to homicide.
“Yes, yes, gruesome and excruciating death, I know.” He rubs at his temples, before huffing, “Are you done?”
“No! I am /not/ finished-”
A bullet whisks over Medic’s head, shattering the window behind them. Shards of glass shower down onto the carpeting and pavement below.
Medic pales, immediately falling silent. He grips his pistol tighter, whispering. “.. Ja, I’m done.”
“Now are we ready to plan an escape like adults?” Spy taunts, unable to help himself even in an incredibly dire situation.
“You don’t have to say it like /that./” Medic grumbles, before looking over at Spy. “But, ja, I am ready.”
“/Trés bien./”