Attack the assassin
Try to drag Anya to safety
Fearing for Anya’s life, you throw caution to the wind, charging into the albino and pushing him back, knocking the hulking pale skinned assassin off balance. He staggers backwards before losing his footing and crashing to the roof of the carriage. You stoop and grasp Anya’s arms before trying to pull her away from him. Roaring with anger, the albino climbs back to his feet and advances towards you as you drag Anya’s prone form back towards the ladder and safety. You are nearly to the end of the carriage and glance up just as he lunges at you, his huge hands reaching for your throat.
Drop Anya and throw yourself onto the ladder to avoid his lunge
Grapple with him on the roof and try to use his size against him
You let go of Anya’s arms and throw yourself back over the edge of the carriage, your hands flailing for the ladder. They hook onto the first steel rung, but your momentum drags you downwards, your fingers slipping as you try to grasp each rung and crying out in fear as you cannot find purchase. You manage to hold on six rungs down, hanging by one hand for a moment with your feet dangling just inches from the rail tracks before you manage to scramble back up on the ladder, the muscles in your arms screaming in agony. You grit your teeth against the pain and clamber back up the ladder, the night howling around you as you steel yourself for a brutal fight to the death with the huge albino. When you climb up onto the carriage roof, you find that the assassin has vanished, but your heart sinks as your gaze drops to the prone form of Anya. You drop to your knees next to her, her pale blue eyes gazing lifelessly up into the night sky. You frantically try CPR, but after a few minutes you realise it is hopeless. You reach down and gently close her eyes before drawing her to you and gazing sadly at the corpse of the beautiful Russian agent you barely knew.
Continue
You release Anya’s hands and reach for the albino as his giant hands close around your neck. He wrenches you up in the air by your throat, your eyes bulging and your hands desperately pulling at his as he begins to squeeze. You try to draw breath, but his powerful grip has crushed your windpipe. His red eyes burn in the night, a grim smile of victory on his lips. You are on the edge of losing consciousness when he hurls you from the train, sending you flailing into the night to smash headfirst into the ground, the impact fracturing your skull and killing you instantly.
THE END
Go back a few moments and rethink your actions
You advance towards the towering albino assassin. He grins, confident of his superiority and swings a right hook just as you reach him. You duck underneath it and smash your fist up into his jaw. His head barely moves and he just smiles at you before swinging another punch. This time he connects, his fist smashing into your stomach and knocking you off your feet. You grunt in pain as you land hard, feeling like you’ve been hit by a truck as you wince and clamber back up to your feet. He throws another punch and you sway to one side to avoid it before raining a few punches into his body. Again, he barely seems to notice and throws his head forward, connecting with a crunching head butt. You drop to your knees, your vision blurring from the impact. He follows up with a savage kick, knocking you from the roof of the train. You throw out a hand, grasping the edge of the roof, your arm screaming in agony as it is almost wrenched from its socket. You smash into the side of the train, but manage to hold on, dangling from one hand for a moment. You swing your other arm up, holding on for dear life as the wind howls around you. You look up to see the assassin looming over you, his lips curled in a sneer as he raises a foot and stamps down on one hand. You grunt in pain as your hand gives way, hanging on by one hand. The albino grins, enjoying his moment of victory as he prepares to deliver the final blow.
Call out to Anya to push him from the train
Try to pull the assassin over the edge
“Anya! Now!” You yell. The albino glances over his shoulder before turning back to you and with mock pity slowly shakes his head. He raises his foot, his red eyes seeming to glow in the night as he delivers the final blow. His foot crunches down hard on your fingers and you cry out in pain and fear as you lose your grip. You flail for a handhold, but there is no reprieve this time and you fall screaming from the speeding train. You smash headfirst into the ground and mercifully your death is instantaneous.
THE END
Go back a few moments and rethink your actions
As he raises his foot again and prepares to land the final blow on your other hand, you summon your last reserves of strength and pull yourself up, throwing your free arm up and around the back of his standing leg, grasping it and pulling it out from under him. For a split second, you see his red eyes widen in surprise and fear before with a roar of anguish, he tumbles off the roof and into the night. You struggle back up onto the train roof and drop to your knees next to the prone form of Anya. For a moment you fear the worst, but she stirs and looks up at you, confused for a moment. Her eyes widen as she realises where she is and what has happened.
“The assassin?” She asks groggily.
“He’s disembarked.” You grin at Anya as you help her to her feet.
“Thank you.” She tells you, her relief palpable. You nod and both clamber back down from the train roof and back into the restaurant car vestibule. As you both stroll through the restaurant, Anya now shoeless, her beautiful dress ripped and her hair in disarray while you look similarly unkempt, you draw curious glances from the other passengers and your waiter, who seems poised to say something before thinking better of it. You flash Anya a grin as you exit the car and make you way back along the train to your compartment.
“You saved my life. I won’t forget that.” Anya tells you, glancing up at your reflection as she sits at a mirror, running her fingers through her dishevelled hair, the blonde somehow just as beautiful despite her ragged appearance.
“Does this mean there is a chance for reconciliation between us Mrs Somerset?” You ask with a raised eyebrow as you lean casually against the wall of the compartment behind her. You study her face in the mirror, the Russian chewing her bottom lip for a moment before a subtle smile gives the game away.
“Everyone deserves a second chance.” She purrs, getting to her feet, turning to face you and allowing you to take her into your arms. You press your lips to hers and a barely audible moan escapes her lips as you tenderly kiss her. Your tongue darts between her lips, flicking over her own as her body melts into yours. You reach up and pull the straps of her ruined dress off her shoulders, the slinky garment sliding down her body to pool at her feet and leave her standing in just her red underwear, her full breasts almost spilling out of her bra.
“Red.” You comment with a wry grin. “Your KGB predecessors would approve…” Anya rolls her eyes, but her lips curl into a smile, her fingers quickly unbuttoning your shirt, her hands playing over your hairy chest.
“So, Mr Somerset,” She asks in a passable cut glass English accent, her hand sliding down past your waist and cupping the growing bulge in the front of your trousers, “How would an English married couple behave?”
Guide her to the bed and go down on her
Have her go down on you
You follow Anya back to your compartment and step inside, locking the door behind you. You turn to the beautiful Russian agent, her face just inches from yours.
“So Mrs Somerset,” You grin, “Any chance of a reconciliation between us?”
“I have had a wonderful evening...” She admits, her body language already giving the game away. You lean towards her, her head tilting back, her eyes closing and her lips parting in anticipation. A loud knock at the door breaks the spell and you both look towards the source.
“Tickets.” A voice rasps from outside. Something feels off, but before you can react, Anya has already opened the door. A ghostly pale, bald headed giant of a man fills the frame of the door, his red eyes gazing malevolently at you both. He reaches out with huge hands and grasps Anya by the throat, lifting her u
p off the floor. Her strangulated gasps fill the air as you realise you only have a moment to react.
There’s a lamp to hand. Bludgeon the pale assassin
He’s too big. Retrieve your gun from your case and shoot the giant albino
Realising Anya doesn’t have time for you to retrieve your gun, you reach for the lamp and swing it as hard as you can into the albino’s huge bald head. He reels away, dropping Anya and clutching his head as she scrambles away, gasping for breath. You swing the lamp again, but the assassin throws out an arm, knocking it from your hand. You smash a fist into his face, but it barely seems to register. He punches you in the gut and you double up, winded from the blow. You stagger back, glancing up at the giant as he grins, cracking his knuckles as he enjoys his moment of supremacy. Anya lies dazed on the floor, holding her throat and wheezing. As you back up against the window, you can feel the handle press into your back. Nowhere to run. You size the albino assassin up. He might have the heavier punch, but you’re well trained in unarmed combat. Still, there are alternatives to fighting…
Fight the giant albino
Goad the assassin into charging at you and try to throw him through the window
Cornered and with nowhere to go, you decide that attack is the best form of defence. You throw yourself at the albino, his red eyes widening in surprise as you pummel him with blows to the body and face. Barely reacting to the onslaught, he simply grins and smashes his bald head into your face. The head butt is devastating, breaking your nose and leaving you dazed on the floor, blood gushing out of your nostrils. The assassin looms over you and you feel his powerful hands close around your throat. His grip tightens and your eyes bulge as he begins to choke you. Your vision darkens as you thrash around, trying to claw his hands from your neck, but he is too strong. Your body goes limp as he strangles the life from you before turning his attention back to Anya, a sadistic smile crossing his face as he prepares to finish the job.
THE END
Go back a few moments and rethink your actions
You reach for your case, quickly disarming the explosive security locks and hurriedly pulling your Walther P99 pistol from within. You turn, bringing the weapon to bear on the albino assassin. His red eyes widen and he swings Anya’s struggling body around, shielding himself with her. You curse, trying to get a shot, but the albino, realising the odds are no longer in his favour, hurls Anya at you and disappears back through the door. Your initial inclination is to pursue the assassin and put a bullet between those red eyes, but Anya is slumped limply over you and you carefully slide her onto her back. Her throat is badly bruised and her glassy eyes gaze lifelessly up at the ceiling. You frantically try CPR, but after a few minutes you realise it is hopeless. You get to your feet and gaze sadly down at the corpse of the beautiful Russian agent you barely knew.
Continue
“Not the most auspicious of starts.” N tells you grimly over the phone as you stride through Istanbul’s busy Sirkeci Terminal the next day. “I have smoothed things over with the local authorities and the Russians have been informed. The have asked that if the opportunity presents itself, you avenge Agent Suchova and terminate this assassin with extreme prejudice. Any leads on the assailant?”
“No.” You reply. “I pursued him, but he must have jumped off the train.”
“I’ve circulated his description.” N says. “He’s hardly inconspicuous, so if he’s foolish enough to try to finish the job, we should see him coming this time.”
“They were on to us straight away.” You tell N. “Whoever is responsible must have a source within either MI6 or Russian Intelligence.”
“Yes, the thought had occurred.” N replies. “Very troubling that their influence extends so far. Continue with your mission, but be on your guard.”
“Understood.” You reply, ending the call.
An hour later, you make your way through the Grand bazaar, the market stalls bustling with activity as you make your way through the busy covered streets, the vaulted ceilings keeping in the noise of the crowded lanes and the aroma of the scents and spices. You push past the traders and gawping tourists before you feel a strong hand on your shoulder.
“You look a discerning gentleman sir.” A heavily accented voice booms in your ear. “Come, visit my stall. I give you very best price!” You glance over your shoulder at a stocky, moustachioed man, his thick black hair streaked with grey, his dark brown eyes gleaming at you.
“In London, you get what you pay for.” You reply carefully, recognising Hakan Emre, your contact at Outpost T, but observing the niceties.
“Then my stall will not disappoint.” He answers, his lips twitching in a smile beneath his bushy moustache.
“Lead on.” You reply, returning his smile.
You follow Hakan through the maze of stalls until he abruptly ducks into the darkened doorway of a particularly pungent spice stall. You follow him inside and down a winding stone staircase. You emerge into a brightly lit, bustling office with rows of desks. Screens and maps line the walls with satellite images and live feeds of current operations.
“Welcome to Turkish Intelligence.” Hakan smiles.
“Impressive.” You comment.
“Thank you.” He grins. “Please. Step into my office and we can discuss your mission.”
You step into a large office to one side, Hakan sitting down behind his desk and gesturing for you to take a seat.
“I was sorry to hear about the Russian agent.” He tells you. “It seems the influence of our mysterious adversary stretches everywhere.”
“Yes.” You tell him. “I barely knew Anya, but it is a tragedy.”
“Times have changed eh.” Hakan muses sadly. “When I first started in Intelligence, the thought of a mourning the death of a Russian agent would have been laughable.”
“It’s a different world.” You agree.
“It certainly is my friend.” Hakan nods. “Shall we get down to business?”
“Please.” You reply keen to change the subject, a pang of guilt at Anya’s death still gnawing at you.
“As you know, three days ago two missiles were stolen. They appear to have been transferred to a ship and transported across the Black sea to Istanbul. The last recorded position of the missiles was at the docks. The GPS pinpoints the location to a warehouse there. I’ve posted agents nearby and they have confirmed that nothing has left the warehouse since they arrived, so the missiles must still be there. I know time is of the essence, but I think we might be better served waiting until we can slip in under cover of darkness.”
There is no time to lose. Go to the warehouse immediately
Wait until night has fallen
“We can’t wait,” You tell Hakan, “There’s no time to lose.”
“As you wish.” He shrugs, rising from behind his desk. “Come, follow me.” He leads you out of his office and through another door. Beyond it is a vast underground car park. You eye up a row of high performance sports cars, but Hakan leads you to a rather dull looking sedan.
“Do not fret my friend.” Hakan chuckles at your obvious disappointment. “She may not look like much, but it’s what is underneath that counts.” He adds with a wink before unlocking the doors.
“Here. I’ll drive.” You tell him, taking the keys and slipping into the driver’s seat, Hakan climbing in alongside you. You turn the key in the ignition and the engine roars to life. You gun the engine before pulling out of the bay with a screech of tires echoing around the car park before accelerating up the ramp and into the afternoon sunshine.
You drive slowly through the narrow and congested streets of central Istanbul. The buildings are an eclectic mixture of remnants of Roman and Ottoman architecture before giving way to modern streets as you leave the older part of the city. Finally, you climb a ramp and join a wide multilane highway, the traffic heavy but flowing. Glad to be free of the narrow lanes, you press your foot down, accelerating towards the docks. To one side, the sun reflects off the water of the S
ea of Marmara and in the distance you can see the elaborate dome and six minarets of the Blue Mosque.
“I thought we might be followed, but we seem to have been lucky.” Hakan comments, gazing out of the window.
“I think you may have spoken too soon.” You reply grimly, spotting two cars weaving through traffic behind you and rapidly closing. You put your foot down, the engine roaring as you pick up speed, cars flashing by as you try to outrun them. You glance up at the rear view mirror, grimacing as you realise that not only are the pursuing cars still there, but they are closing. The car jerks as one rams into the back of you and you fight with the steering wheel to keep control. Hakan leans forward and presses a button on the dashboard. A panel opens just above the gearstick and you glance at the controls beneath: Machine guns, Oil slick, wheel blades. You glance across at Hakan who grins proudly back at you. Decisions decisions…
Use machine guns
Use oil slick
Use wheel blades
“Let’s see how good you are when you’re not strangling a defenceless woman, you lumbering coward.” You bark at the assassin. The albino snarls, his red eyes blazing with fury. He charges at you, his huge hands outstretched. You reach behind you, yanking the window down and sidestep, grasping him by the collar and using his own momentum against him. His snarl swiftly changes to a cry of surprise and panic as he is thrown through the open window, his yelp drowned out by the howl of the wind outside as he disappears into the darkness.
“The bigger they are, the harder they fall.” You quip, pulling the window shut, abruptly silencing the howling wind as the train thunders on through the night. “So much for travelling incognito.”
Agent 69- Stroken, Not Stirred Page 7