[DASH=yellow]Joseph narrowed his eyes when he spotted Hector, wearing one of the police jackets, smug satisfaction on his face for having betrayed the team. Vowing revenge, if they managed to live through this ordeal, Joseph took in his surroundings, trying to formulate an escape plan. Cosmina's hand dropped from his; she must have seen Hector as well. Joseph's heart started pounding in his chest, thumping harder and harder as the anger built inside him.
They were nearing the waiting officers, who were readying their rifles, casually smoking cigarettes and throwing around a little bit of chit-chat. Joseph spotted a man sitting behind the wheel of one of the cars, his friend standing outside, leaning down, trying to get his cigarette lit. Including the two men leading them to their deaths, there were a total of six officers, and the traitorous Hector. If they were able to catch the men by surprise, it would be quick work. Cosmina signaled him, telling him that she would take the right side. Now was their chance.
"Yes darling, just like my mother," Joseph acknowledged, his voice full of cold fury. One of the things that had motivated him in accepting the mission was his intense hatred for the Soviet government and the mistreatment of his mother. When she was a little girl, first attending school, she had been instructed to write. She was naturally left handed, and so she took the pencil in her left hand, attempting to please her teacher. Instead it brought down his ire, and her teacher beat her mercilessly, dislocating her shoulder and breaking every finger in her left hand. In attempt to stop her from writing with her left hand, her teacher constantly broke her fingers, never allowing her to see a doctor, never letting them go too long without mending. Years later, when Joseph had asked her why her hand looked like that, she merely responded "There is no room for uniqueness in the Soviet Union." It had angered Joseph to learn that his mother had a deformed hand because of a teacher, the same teacher who now happened to be the Minister of Education, one of the men he was tasked with killing tonight.
And with that phrase, Joseph sprung in to action, striking the man directly in front of him in the back of the head, grabbing the gun from the man's holster. He targeted the men to his left, firing off three shots, two of them connecting with their targets, their cries of warning choked off by the bullets entering their heads. The man in front of him groaned, attempting to stand. His progress came to a crashing halt as Joseph knocked him unconscious with the butt of the gun. He made his way towards the car with the man in it; that was their best chance at escaping. The occupant of the car was furiously trying to take the gun out of his holster, failing as Joseph punched him in the face several times. Joseph yanked the door open, grabbed the man inside and threw him on top of his dead friend. The keys were still in the ignition. Good, he thought. The passenger door thudded closed as Cosmina jumped in. A quick turn of the key and the car roared to life. Joseph floored it.
"I'm glad you made it," Joseph said, smiling in Cosmina's direction. They had made it, together. There would be time for mourning the team when they escaped from the country safely. Joseph's momentary joy was cut short: the passports that they needed to cross the border were in his jacket pocket, the jacket that he had worn to the dinner party, the same jacket that was still in the coat check at the party. Silently cursing himself for having been so stupid, Joseph checked for signs of pursuit. Nobody was following. "We need to ditch this car as soon as possible, they'll be looking for it." He paused, trying to catch his breath. He hadn't seen the traitor once the shooting started, and he had to know if Cosmina had exacted revenge. "Hector?"[/DASH]