Page 88 of Uprising

The gates are locked. But I don’t even try them. I know they’re impassable. I know that going in that route will only guarantee failure.

So I creep in through the back. The same way I did so many years ago.

And it’s hard not to relieve those memories, to remember Rose and me, when we were carefree, when we were happy, when the thrill of getting caught was almost as fun as being with each other.

I want that back. I want that happiness. I want those carefree moments.

We cross the grass quickly, efficiently, shoving our bodies into the pristine granite walls. I spent hours going through the blueprints. Detailing exactly where the cameras are and where the blind spots exist. Where all the weaknesses in their defence system is.

We hacked in an hour ago and Tia is monitoring everything for us. So far there’s been nothing beyond Lady Capulet sauntering to get a drink.

I wonder if she’s realised her husband is missing. Surely she must do. Surely he doesn’t usually disappear for days without any mention of it, without any contact?

I shrug off the thought. Soon enough she’ll know the truth anyway.

We get in through the basement. We could have as easily broken in further up but I want to clear the space floor by floor. I don’t want any surprises. I want this as controlled and precise as a military operation. Get in, get the traitorous bitch, and get out.

Within seconds Tia tells us someone is coming, that down the hall the patrols are headed our way. We take position, waiting out of sight until they’re close enough and then we take aim, bringing them down in perfect near silent motion, with only the slight swish of the bullet through the silencers.

Once they’re down we dump them in the cellar, out of sight, and then continue onwards.

It takes all of ten minutes to clear the basement and floor above. We’ve taken out twenty guards. All with perfectly executed precision. But as we make our way to the third floor my nerves pick up. From what we can tell this is where the she-bitch will be residing.

I nod to the men around me. They spread out, clearly room by room and we find absolutely no one.

As I make my way into the master suite I can feel it, my adrenaline, my heart racing, my hands itching to wrap around her neck.

But I pause as I hear the sound of grunting, of moans, of skin slapping against skin.

My stomach turns as I realise what this, what I’m hearing, what I’m seeing through the darkness of the night but I can’t help the snigger too. At finding her like this.

“Well, well.” I murmur.

Two voices gasp in shock.

I smirk flicking the light on and she’s there, naked and spreadeagled, with what looks like one of the guards on top of her.

“This is a little awkward.” I say.

Carla’s face turns from flushed to pale as she realises who is here, stood in front of her. She makes a move to cover herself while the man on top of her scrambles off.

“You know I was wondering why you weren’t missing your husband. Why you weren’t making more of a fuss about his disappearance…” I say. “But I guess this explains it.”

“What are you doing in my house?” She says sitting up, pulling the sheets over her sweaty breasts. Her hair is askew, she’s so far removed from the pristine, stuck-up image she usually presents.

“I’d have thought that was obvious.” I reply.

The man she was fucking makes a bid to take me on. He launches himself at me and I bring him down with barely a second glance.

Carla shrieks out, like she’s not got her hands more than covered in blood over the years.

“Get up.” I snarl. “Get on your feet or I will drag you out of here.”

“You do that and Darius will…”

“Will what?” I mock. “You think he gives a shit about you? He has everything he wants. You made sure of that when you gift-wrapped your daughter for him.”

“Rose was more than happy…”