5. 45 P.M
Water was dripping somewhere and the sound echoed eerily through the underground alley.
Beads of perspiration formed on her forehead.
Imogen felt like pulling off her glasses as she clutched the metal rod tightly. Her knuckles were turning white from the pressure of gripping the rusty metal.
In the dimly lit alley, she was snuggled up between two massive pipes running from the roof of the alley to the damp floor. They felt like pillars. She had been in this uncomfortable position ever since they heard the assassins jump into the underground from the manhole. She had quickly drafted an assault plan with Derek and she just hoped that she wouldn't flop.
She swallowed hard as the thought of being overpowered and captured flashed her mind.
They had estimated four bad guys.
A shadow caught her attention and it was advancing stealthily. She pressed herself tightly against the crevice created by the two pipes so as not to give her away.