Snare

The reflection in the strategically placed convex mirror was showing Isabella Riberio something she was expecting, the rooftop access door to her far right side, was slowly opening.

With one eye still looking through the scope of the rifle, trained on the blue eyed male currently conversing with Sabrina Washington, her other eye was also observing the new movements being captured in the mirror. The achy feeling of laying on her stomach for so long was being quickly overwritten by a new infusion of adrenaline, her body was preparing for whatever was coming next.

Isabella watched as a tall, thin figure, dressed head to toe in black, emerged from the darkness of the doorway. A pistol with a silencer was already up and in position from straight and steady arms, pointed at her head. The figure seemed unaware that they had been noticed and carefully crept towards her, loose gravel shifting under their footsteps.

She held her position, not to give away the fact that she knew somebody was there, startling the new arrival into making a serious mistake, like a fatal one for her. Cautious step by step, the figure approached, pistol trained on her head, as she continued to watch two things at the same time.

"Far enough," Isabella said, breaking the moment in a very unexpected way for the figure. They froze immediately, like a child caught with there hand in the cookie jar, except with a gun. The figure was close enough for Isabella to make out the only facial feature she could see through the balaclava, brown eyes.

"Can I help you?" asked Isabella, almost sounding like a flight attendant pushing a food cart on a plane. The look from the figure was almost funny, except for the gun pointed at her. They stood there, such a short distance away from her, their eyes scanning around to find what had given their presence away. They spotted the tiny mirror.

The figure spoke, "My aren't you a clever girl," in a voice like a high, shaky whisper. Isabella, having not moved an inch since this encounter started, replied with, "If you stick around for a while, you will find I am just full of surprises."

The figure took in the scene. The woman was laying prone on a high cot and dressed in a nearly identical fashion. Black one piece combat jumpsuit with the trouser bottoms bloused atop the black combat boots. They differed in one area, they were wearing a balaclava, she wasn't hiding her identity, wearing a black, nondescript baseball cap, brim forward. Next thing they noted, she was holding a high powered rifle, with it's long barrel inserted through a hole, drilled through the masonry. They knew she couldn't just pull the rifle out and fire a shot at them, she didn't have that luxury of time. Due to how everything was positioned out, all the figure could see was her right side, but with no visible sign of a belt, strongly indicated no holster, hence no sidearm.

Isabella could always feel when people were looking at her and judging on how this person was inspecting her, not only were they looking for any sign of weapons, she deduced this a man taking the opportunity for a bit of eye candy, something that comes from observing the physical curves of an attractive woman. "Enjoying the view?" she asked, never moving her eyes from the scope of the rifle.

"Okay, this is how the following will happen," the figure started, "You will let go and carefully crawl back from the rifle, slowly push yourself up into a kneeling position with your hands behind your head, interlacing your fingers." As if the figure's commands were never even ordered to her, Isabella said in a firm voice, "No, not today." The figure laughed, "I don't see how you are in any position to refuse or negotiate."

Isabella, without taking her attention from the scene through the rifle scope, told the figure, "I am part of a cause worth dying for," paused for dramatic effect, "Are you?" The figure took a cautious step back, gun still aimed at her head. She allowed a slight smile to form on her lips.

The figure was impressed with how calm and composed this woman was handling this situation. Never moving, not taking her attention from her main task, yet dealing with them in a very confident, almost arrogant manner. Question was, was she bluffing or was there an ace up her sleeve that they couldn't see. The figure scanned around the woman again, under the cot and up towards the billboard above both of them. A few red blinking lights hidden in the shadow of the large advertisement put a small knot into the figure's stomach.

Isabella saw they found her surprise. The figure asked, "Detonator?" She smiled wider, "Deadman switch, wireless trigger and I am laying on it." The figure swallowed hard. She continued, "I am also being watched from a remote location, so, even if you could take me out without setting it off, my friend would complete the task in my....passing."

The figure weighted the possibilities. Isabella drove the intended perception home, repeating these words again, "I am part of a cause worth dying for," another pause, "Have you found one?"

The figure started to slowly back away, gun remained pointing at her. Ever third step, they would perform a quick right shoulder check on the open door behind them, looking for any sign of movement. Isabella remained motionless, but continued to smile. The figure vanished with the closing of the door.

After a few more moments of listening intently, to be sure figure was gone, Isabella physically crashed. The instinctual adrenaline rush just abruptly ended and now, the follow up nervous shakes started. The amount of sweat from this brief encounter, if wrung from her current attire, could revive a dead goldfish in an dry bowl.

"Eagle," It was Sabrina's voice in her left ear that brought her back to reality, "Skybound." Isabella let out a sigh of relief, it was time to pack up and move out. "Copy that, Raven," was the reply.