Helen's point of view.
The assignment placed me as the sole female operative among the male security members. Conscious of being busty, I did my best to minimize my figure, a task made somewhat easier by the bullet-proof vest.
When the man approached, demanding identification, my thoughts were consumed by Mince's delayed arrival. Uncertainty gnawed at me until Mince finally appeared, resetting my focus.
I yelled a warning as Mince advanced. Ignoring it, she continued her approach. I drew my weapon and fired two shots straight at her belly.
She collapsed, landing face down with her back exposed and hands tucked beneath her.
The man repeated his demand for her identity. "I don't know," I replied. He stared at her fallen form, then turned back to me, his anger increased as he pressed me to identify myself. I remained silent.
Just then, Swiss's voice cut through my earpiece. "Clear," she confirmed.
That was our cue. Everything unfolded exactly as planned. The man raised his gun to my head, his finger tightening on the trigger, ready to fire.
There must be no room for error in Swiss's timing now. If she spent a second too slow, and I would be dead. Too fast, and our position would be compromised. But faster was undoubtedly better; my life depended on it.
The man's trigger pull was almost complete when a bullet tore through his skull from the right, and he dropped. That was Swiss.
Immediately, the remaining security personnel shifted into defensive positions. They knew I hadn't fired the shot, but its origin remained a mystery to them.
One of them, attempting to pinpoint the shooter, deliberately fired a round into the air. Swiss took him down as well.
"Over there!" another shouted, attempting to point out Swiss. I silenced him with a swift shot.
The man beside the one I had just neutralized caught me, his weapon rising. Thankfully, Swiss reacted first, pinning him down with a precise shot.
Ace remained hidden at a distance, using the heavy, bullet-proof barriers designed to stop vehicles as cover.
Standing firmly and guarded at the mansion's entrance was Vesta, her shots being an extra hand for us.
Swiss held her sniper position, while Mince lay seemingly lifeless on the ground, silent, and dead playing, but a real threat. Oscar covered another angle from her own hideout. My role was to secretly eliminate anyone about to fire.
They were skilled, these security personnel, but their inability to locate the source of the attacks was our decisive advantage.
In a relentless firing lasting over ten minutes, we neutralized them all. Victory was ours.
Swiss's point of view.
On this mission, my skill earned me the role of "eagle's eye"—the sniper, tasked with seeing the unseen and safeguarding the team.
Once the initial takeover was complete, my sisters regrouped, all except Vesta, who maintained her position at the mansion's entrance due to the unknown presence inside.
They began moving towards Vesta, intending to breach the mansion together.
Still scanning the perimeter through my scope to confirm all security was down, my vision swept across the parked vehicles at the parking lot. One of the cars shifted.
I immediately refocused, and two car doors opened. People were emerging from both vehicles—eight in total, with another just stepping out.
These men presented a unique threat: a shot to the eye was the only way to neutralize them, their bodies otherwise heavily armored. My sisters were unaware of this, and they would be slaughtered if these men opened fire.
I targeted the lead man and took him down. One down, seven to go. Instantly, I alerted my sisters.
The remaining men scrambled for cover behind the vehicles. They knew it was a sniper, but their hideout was excellent, and they had clear lines of sight. They were better protected than my sisters.
Then, they began firing aimlessly at my sisters. Their intent was unclear, but I had to act fast.
"We can't do anything from this angle, do something!" Oscar's voice, bearing his familiar paternal tone, crackled through the communication system in my ear.
I surveyed the scene repeatedly. The vehicles completely obstructed my view. There was nothing I could do from my current position.
Victory was slipping away. These men had seemingly waited for us to eliminate the initial security, only to ambush us themselves.
Their plan had worked. We were caught completely off guard.
My sniper rifle was useless against their concealed positions. Then, an idea sparked: shoot through the vehicles. I was about to pull the trigger when another thought, urgent and clear, flashed through my mind: "Shoot the tank."
I reacted with a speed I never knew I possessed, squeezing off three rapid shots.
The vehicles erupted in flames, and the remaining men were down.
"Brilliant, Swiss. Brilliant," Father's relieved voice echoed in my ear.
I exhaled, the tension draining from my body. That unexpected counter-attack had been far more challenging than taking down the initial security. But we prevailed.
Mother's voice confirmed through the communication system that the cameras were clear. We had to proceed.
Suddenly, a deafening explosion ripped through the mansion's rear entrance. The force of the blast hurled Vesta backward.
She lay motionless on the ground, face down, and blood was on her head.
Gunfire strated flying out from within the mansion, pinning us down, preventing anyone from reaching her. I feared we had lost a sister.
The unknown man inside was responsible. He had eliminated all the guests except one—the one who held the vault's access code.
He emerged from the shattered doorway, using the terrified man as a human shield, a gun pressed at his head. "Make a move, and this man dies," he warned, "and you all lose access to the vault."
Baffled by Vesta's condition, I instinctively moved to leave my position, but Mother's sharp command through Father stopped me. I had to stay put.
It was Ace who thought quickly. She contacted Vesta through the communication system.
To our relief, Vesta responded, assuring us she was alright. She believed she could take down the man from her position if she was fast enough.
But Father forbade it. The risk to the vault's access was too great. He instructed her to play dead.
A new plan formed swiftly in Father's mind: Vesta would create a diversion while I took the shot.
The pressure was immense. My aim had to be perfect. Vesta's life depended on it.
Vesta made her move, attempting a shot. She wasn't fast enough. The man reacted instantly, shielding himself with the vault holder. He tried to fire at Vesta, but she rolled away, leaving him exposed.
I squeezed the trigger. The shot was clean. He went down.
Silence descended. The area was secure. We rushed to Vesta, relief washing over us as we assessed her injury—a mere bruise requiring minor attention.
With the vault secured, we began our journey home. As we approached our transport, a dog appeared, barking excitedly. We were instinctively tensed, ready to flee.
"Wait," Vesta called out. "He's a friend." The dog, tail wagging furiously, bounded towards her. We left with the vault, and the unexpected addition of a loyal companion, still uncertain about the treasures locked within.