Excerpt: Record: A Farah Volek Story

A section from my upcoming story "Record: A Farah Volek Story" Not sure when it'll be published yet. I plan on kindle / paperback release this year. This is a first draft. The final version will probably look different.

Farah killed the headlights and took a deep breath. She slipped on a pair of leather gloves and from her glove compartment, she equipped her black pistol with a silencer. Violence. She was comfortable with it. Though there was the thought in the back of her head that she may not make it out. A giant home like the one she was invading? Will definitely have security guards patrolling. Especially in the dead of night.

After exiting the vehicle, she walked a few feet forward. Staying crouched. She hid behind a large tree, shrouded in shadow.

Beyond the tree lay the front yard of the manor. Spotlights illuminated the front yard, adorned with large statues and large walls of brick, and a small pond with water was the centerpiece of the clean area. The sound of the water provided some good coverage in case Farah wanted to sneak around it. Though right now, she had a good view of the manor. The front of the home was impressive, the wooden front door was decorated with etchings. And occupying the front door, was a single man dressed in black. Dressed like someone about to perform in the sport of paint balling, complete with gloves and a black mask. In his hands, he held an M16 machine gun.

Reaching to her feet was a stone, Farah tossed the rock into the darkness, it smacked against the side of the manor and away from the bright flood lights. Around the sides of the manor was nothing but pitch black and cement.

The guard let out an audible “huh?” and aimed his gun into the night. He walked away from the door, he started to head left which meant he’d be away from the windows. Once he was away from the windows, Farah lifted her pistol and held her breath. The man stood a few feet from her, his back to her. He was close enough that she could make out the folds in his shirt and the extra ammo he carried on his belt. The guard focused on the emptiness before him.

A red laser hovered over the man’s head and she pulled the trigger. With a quiet pop and grunt, the guard fell forward. The bullet had struck the top of his head, sending a puff of red, misty blood into the air and a hole full of gore and goo. Farah crouched as she moved out from behind the tree, her pistol up and ready to fire. She was now in the front yard of the manor, her head cocked left and right. Once at the front door, she placed her hand on the handle and the door squeaked open.

Farah looked upon fancy walls covered in expensive art and a very high ceiling with windows and a few crystal chandeliers, on a sunny day golden rays would beam down into the manor. The floor was hard with a black and white diamond pattern. A large grandfather clock stood against a wall at the end of the first floor. To her left, was a large staircase.

A blast from a machine gun rang through the home, a guard dressed identical to the one outside was on the staircase, half way up and firing down at Farah who swiftly dropped to her stomach. Through the banister, Farah aimed her gun and fired a shot through the man’s foot. He grunted and tumbled down to the bottom of the stairs. Farah then stood and fired two shots into his head as he lay moaning. Blood popped from his forehead and splattered to the floor. She made her way up the stairs, holding her gun in two hands. It wasn’t a short journey, this staircase was quite long. Leading her closer to the ceiling.

Once reaching the second floor landing, to her left was a large wall covered in paintings and access to a few more rooms by way of locked doors, to her right a golden banister. The landing wasn’t a cramped place, it was quite spacious in fact. Similar to her parent’s house.

She felt a leather belt wrap around her neck. One of the guards had bided his time. Waiting for a chance to strike. Downstairs, he hid watching her assassinate his guys before making his move. With a gasp, she dropped her pistol and wrapped two hands around the belt, which only grew tighter by the second. Why did I drop my damn gun? Stupid! She struck the man’s chest with her elbow, he did not react and instead she felt a dull pain. He was wearing black body armor.

Looking down, she saw beneath his glove exposed wrist. With a grunt, Farah bit into his flesh. At first the attacker didn’t budge, but as her front teeth clung onto his skin and she tasted warm blood, he finally let go of her. She spun, meeting his gaze and with two hands she shoved the soldier over the banister and he fell to the hard floor beneath. It was about a foot drop. He handed on his skull which cracked on impact. She coughed loudly, rubbing her neck. She felt dizzy, but knew she couldn’t give up now.