There was no time left. If they didn’t move quickly, there would be no one left to save.
Drake grabbed his machine gun and made his way to the compound. Spotlights—he had to find cover. A small thicket was near by. He ran hard, his chest on fire. He dove before he was seen. ‘Too close,’ he thought. He knew he would have to burst the rest of the way or he would be found.
His heart was pounding, but, there was no other option. He timed the arc of the lights and waited for their next pass. As they started back around, he burst from the bushes and made a dash for the gate.
He heard someone shout and a bullet whizzed by him. He kept running and strafed toward the general area of the shouting. His surprise attack plan was no longer an option. He kept running and fired at anything that moved.
When he reached the gate, the lights flooded the main compound. He ran the map of the building through his mind. The main door was due east of his position. If he made it in, there was a good chance, he would never make it back. “I wasn’t planning to live forever,” he said. He took out a fresh clip and took a deep breath.
He was at a dead run when he made the front door of the compound. He turned around and took down the column of men coming toward him. They never got off a shot. He checked his six and saw he was clear. He knew the rest of the way was going to be extremely dangerous. He didn’t care. He had gotten this far and wasn’t about to surrender.
Torches lit the halls of the building. His vision was strained trying to adjust to the lighting. He started down the main hall, feeling his way along the rough stone. As he proceeded, his vision slowly returned to normal. He quickened his pace. He needed to get to the main throne room before it was too late. He only had minutes left. He quickly checked his bandoleer. ‘Good, five grenades and three clips of ammo.’ That would do the trick.
A huge door blocked his way. If the map was right, this was the main throne room. The doors stood at least 20 feet high. He grabbed the handle and pushed his full weight on the door. It moved surprisingly smoothly for an object with so much mass.
When he entered the room, a booming voice echoed around him. “I’ve been expecting you, Drake. Welcome to my humble abode.” He looked at a dais in the middle of the room. On it stood a magnificent looking man with huge, beautiful wings. “Hello, Lucifer. I’ve been waiting for this for a long time,” Drake said haughtily.
Lucifer moved closer. “Oh, really—interesting—and why is that?”
Drake grabbed one of the grenades. He held it in front of him. Lucifer looked at it and laughed. “A grenade—you expect to destroy me with a grenade?”
Drake smirked. “Lucifer, buddy, this isn’t just any grenade. I was commissioned by the Most High God to come back here and finish you off. I was the only one that He could trust to get this job done right. This grenade, my dear friend, was handcrafted by God himself.”
Lucifer’s eyes went wide. “But, it’s not time. I rule until the end of days!”
Drake smiled. “I know.” He pulled the pin and threw the grenade. A tremendous flash ignited the room.
Outside, the rivers ran like blood and the sky turned black as sackcloth. A trumpet sounded like thunder in the sky as a rider on a pale horse barreled down from Heaven.
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