Spy Mage System

Chapter 295 - 295 Rescuing Barry

295 Rescuing Barry

“Who was that?” the TSA agent asked. Soon enough, both agents were now in view, although it was in bird’s eye view.

“Looked like an animal,” the girl replied. Suddenly, they brought out flashlights in daylight, and searched around for a moment. But then, the wave of light then turned in my direction, beaming light in my area.

I shifted to the side, barely missing the blazing light that was illuminating the tree. I looked to the side, seeing a branch that was probably too far to even jump, nonetheless reach.

“Shoot,” I muttered, as the light retreated from the tree. I shifted back to my original spot, seeing that the agents were now on their way. But as I moved forward, suddenly, a certain object slipped from my back pocket.

My body froze, as if it was just stunned from the sudden change of feeling.

I slowly guided my eyes down, seeing one of the snacks—a bag of chips I believe—hitting the ground. Then, the flashlights hounded on the chips, as the agents ran to the scene of the noise.

The beaming light returned to search the same spot, seeing nothing just like before. But this time, it didn’t just leave.

“Search around the tree, I’ll search the rest of the area,” the woman said. Trudging footsteps followed after the order, which the beaming light began to explore other corners around this tree.

I darted my eyes to the side, looking down and seeing a branch below towards the left.

.....

The only chance I had was to somehow escape sneakily, and find Hans in time.

I dropped down, hoping to not make much noise. But the leaves rattled and the triangle of light quickly switched towards my side.

Heavy footsteps became more heavy, as the TSA spy got closer. But then, and soon enough, he was right directly under me. The leaves blocked the view, meaning I could only see bits and pieces from certain areas, but nonetheless—the TSA spy was right here.

I needed to make the correct move, unless there would be a tribe of enemy spies after me. Slowly, I stretched my leg down, slow enough to where no noise produced from the shrill movement of my leg.

The spy, who was actually a redhead, looked left and right—meaning the only place to look was up.

But then, suddenly, an object collided against the man, and he whizzed past my view.

What just happened?

I quickly dropped down to see Hans with a firm grip on the man’s neck, with his knee pinning him down. Then, with one charged-up punch, he swept it across his face.

The plastering sound of the impact startled me, as my bones trembled from the finishing blow.

“Ha—”

“Shh,” he said, leaving a finger up to indicate the closing of my mouth. I nodded ungrudgingly. Hans got up from the unconscious body, then jogged towards me. “What happened to Barry?”

“Barry went a little rogue. Once I saw the agents, I told him they were going to possibly attack this village. Instead of listening to me, he instead decided to name me as his enemy.”

“Wow,” Hans said. “But we still need him.”

“I know,” I said. “That’s why I’m gonna try and get Barry and return back to his house. We can wait until he wakes up and see what to do from there.”

“Well, let’s hope that we escape from these agents first,” I said. “Let’s go.” We immediately ran away from the tree, to the little area where we dispersed to our own scouting spots.

“Where’s Barry?” I muttered, looking around, trying to visualize the direction he flew from. I looked to the left, seeing him fly that way, which I gestured for Hans to follow.

We went through a few bushes, smelling something that seemed to be scorched by fire. Barry. “He has to be close, unless I’m smelling things,” Hans said, rubbing his nose.

“I doubt so,” I said, which we eventually reached the area where Barry was. His shirt was completely melted into ash, exposing the side of his stomach. He was not moving, but he wasn’t dead. “Alright, I’ll carry him, and we’ll go,” I said. Hans took a quick peek of our surroundings, and he nodded agreeably.

We shot through the trees, hoping that we were moving farther away from the searching enemy spies, and closer to his house.

But we went through a secret door, meaning we’d have to go to the streets, and go up to his house. We continued along the path, until the sounds of cars slowly began to climb.

We’re getting closer.

“You see anything?” I asked. Hans leaned his head to the right, and he nodded excitedly. “We’re close to the city. I think it’s close to the uphill street to his house,” he said. I nodded. “Perfect, let’s go.”

But as we encountered it, the view of muggers suddenly showed up to the scene.

We were close to the sidewalk that led to the uphill, but we were behind a few trees, meaning they didn’t see us yet—hopefully.

Three cars were parked in our area—60’s convertibles I could only assume. It was as if the FBI was right at Barry’s doorstep. “How are we supposed to return back to his house without get lynched by these guys?” I asked.

Hans searched around, which it was starting to become clear he was more of a scout than I was.

“Over there,” he said, pointing to this trail which led to the door we came out of. Now taking a more detailed look at it, it was wooden with his darkened-metal ring that was circled around the doorknob.

“Does Barry still have his key?” I asked. Hans scoffed. “How about this: you look?”

“Why can’t—oh,” I asked, realizing in the middle of my foolish sentence. I went over behind Hans, searching through his back pockets, although no object was stored in them.

“Hans, move his legs to the side a little, would ya?” I asked, which Barry’s body shifted to the side. I checked his right pocket first: nothing.

I checked the left pocket: Nothing.

But out of the corner of my eye, I saw a little key hanging on a keychain on his belt. I’m not even sure how that even exists, but that’s the least of my worries.

“Come on,” I said, and we reached the door. Memories of this trail were still vibrant, being that it was only two hours ago.

I plugged it in the keyhole, and turned it, opening the door and quickly rushed inside. Hans shut the door, as we continued through the dusty trail. It seemed as if it was a cave that held some sort of ancient maze.

After a series of running, we finally came across the stairs which led up the door leading into the living room.

“Take it away,” Hans said, and I stepped up, doing the same thing with the secret door from outside, leading into the bright inside of the living room. The sun was really starting to blare inside of the cabin-house, as Hans went over to lay Barry onto the sofa.

“Okay, now we need to get these muggers away,” I said.

Then, the sound of a weapon cocking forced me to turn towards the inevitable sound. Hans was holding Barry’s gun. “Okay, now what’s the next part?”

“I have no clue,” I said, shaking my head, as the door began to bang. Then, the sound of another vehicle pulling up, trailed from the right side of the house. Looking through the window, I saw another of those old convertible’s, but one man in particular caught my attention.

“It’s Mr. Trilby,” I said. “I think his entire army is here.”

“Oh—my Lord,” Hans said. “This is great, this is totally great. What I’ll do is to just shoot them. That’s the only thing we can do.”

“Well, I mean, maybe we can negotiate. I don’t think enough bullets are going to mow down this entire fleet of muggers—just saying,” I said, being realistic.

“There’s no reason to be negative. Someone’s gotta stop these muggers, and it’s going to be you and me. So grow up!”

Dang…

I lifted my hands up in submission, as Hans steadily advanced towards the door. He faced the rifle straight at the door, while extending his height by bending over to his tippy-toes. “They’re still there,” he said. “They’re not gonna be for a short time.”

“Well, let’s hope that the same fate doesn’t happen with us,” I said, but Hans only responded with an exasperated look, forcing me into submission, once again.

Then, he kneeled down, as he got ready for the initial fire. “Wait, what do I do?” I asked, realizing that he was going to be the lone fighter in all of this. Hans glanced at me. “I don’t know. Throw knives or pots or anything. Just do whatever.”

“Alright…” I said in a mutter.