John had everything set, almost everything. One vital thing was still absent: the trigger mechanism. His contact was late in the delivery. He was beginning to fear that the plan would have to be scrapped when he received a message saying that his contact was waiting at the appointed place. He quickly jumped into his clothes and stepped out of his room, making sure to lock the door behind him.
In the living room, three of his men were watching a match on TV. They were making far more noise than the supporters in the stadium and he shook his head at their childishness.
He dismissed the first as a random sound, but the second was clear even to his men. They all fell silent, frozen in place and expecting to hear the sound again, but hoping not to. But there it was again: automatic gunfire! Like flash, all three men dove for their weapons and stayed close to the ground. John went for his too, pulling it from its ankle holster. He cautiously made his way to the door and peeped out into the long corridor. There they were!
"Shit," he cursed beneath his breath. One of his men came to join him and he quickly signed for him to stay back. A team was currently making its way toward them and John knew that the whole game was over. Jennings had played faster and had gotten the win. He turned to his men.
"Hey, everyone stay down. They're almost here. Federales. No, drop your weapons! If you wanna live, drop them and do as I do."
He promptly went down on his knees and placed his interlocked fingers behind his head. Scared and confused, though reluctant, his men all joined him. Just then, the door was thrown open and armed ATB agents swarmed in.