My first story for RF Writing Contest (Black List).

Aimoperative
Aimoperative
in Fan Works
Once, again, Constrictive Criticsim or Constructive Trolling is always appreciated. :D
This is Copyright to Aimoperative.
The glaring Turkish sun sent heat waves across the apartment complex, making the horizon look blurred and damping the sounds of the city below with oppressive heat.
Inside one of the rooms, acclaimed sniper Duncan MacKay watched as Dragon, his team leader, enter the dimly lit apartment, trudge to a dingy wooden cupboard, and promptly smash it in with one blow of his fist.
“Ghost give you the pink slip?” Duncan asked reclining on a wooden chair with his feet propped up on a table. Dragon turned toward him, his skull mask covering whatever emotions lay behind it.
“What’s that to you MacKay?” Dragon’s normally emotionless voice now seeped with restrained anger.
“Not much, I’ll still be here when you’re gone,” Duncan peered at the remains of the cupboard even as Dragon unsheathed his axe and slammed it into the table, right next to Duncan’s legs.
“Then again, I probably will miss your charming personality.” Duncan smiled innocently as Dragon leaned toward him, fists clenched.
“You really don’t know when to shut up do you?”
“I try.” Duncan shrugged
“Am I interrupting something?”
Both men turned to look at the mounted LED TV screen mounted on the wall, out of place amid the squalor of the apartment. On the screen was Ghost, staring accusingly at Dragon.
“I trust that my decision for another agent to carry out my missions has not caused any problems for you, has it Dragon?” Ghost’s flat, grating voice carried over the speakers, sending a very clear message to Dragon.
“No Sir,” Dragon answered, sheathing his axe, “No it hasn’t.”
“Good, then let’s get down to business shall we?”
Dragon pulled out a blue print of an oil factory from a nearby drawer, knocking Duncan’s feet off the table before spreading the map across it.
“I have a team at the ready, we will drop on the north side of the factory, and make our way to the primary objective, this pipeline right here,” Dragon looked up at the screen before continuing, “If we should encounter some form of resistance, I have a secondary bomb site planned, this one will accomplish the same goal for us as our primary target will, should we not be able to reach our first bomb site”
“Well done Dragon, you will be rewarded in due time. In the meantime, however, I have a special guest for you.”
The door of the apartment suddenly opened, causing both Dragon and MacKay to whirl around and draw their pistols. Looking more like a male model than a ruthless mercenary, a blonde Caucasian stepped into the room, wearing large, stylish sunglasses.
“He’s Dragon’s replacement?” MacKay turned back to the screen, “the guy looks like a stripper for Pete’s sake!”
Duncan suddenly was hoisted in the air and flung across the apartment, crashing into the remains of the cupboard Dragon had demolished.
“Yeah, a stripper who can throw you like a flabby bean bag, idiot.” The newcomer turned toward Dragon and offered his hand, Dragon ignored him and turned to the TV screen.
“Any updates on our intelligence leak?” Dragon asked brusquely.
“I ask the questions here, Dragon, not you.” Ghost replied in a cold, grating voice. “When I see fit to inform you of anything, you will be informed. All you need to do is destroy the oil factory, am I clear?”
“As you say, Commander.”
“Make sure of it, because Black List does not tolerate failure.”
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