Hook

James slipped behind cover of the broken wall, a grenade in his hand, pin already pulled. He knew exactly how much time he had remaining until the gunpowder was shot, and exactly how large the explosion it caused would be. He had five seconds to throw it before he would be caught in the blast - five seconds with which he listened to the footsteps of men running in panic, looking for the intruder who was slaughtering their men. A casual toss over the shoulder, a pause, a shout, and then an explosion. And James was on the move again.

Most of the guards were unconscious or dead as he made his way through the destroyed hallways. He had entered the newly defended castle ruins an hour ago, and his presence was well known. It was hard to ignore the constantly decreasing amount of chatter over the radio, the sound of gun fights and explosions, or the discarded bloody bodies left in his wake. He knew he had had to take his time in order to prevent being overwhelmed by their numbers, but he was beginning to need to speed up if he wished to finish the job before reinforcements arrive.

The castle ruins had proved to be challenging to navigate. Many of the stairways had fractured or become useless, and the ladders that had been there to assist ascension when James arrived had been broken or burned to stop him. Fortunately, James had brought a tool with him to allow for just that occasion. He slipped the rope and hook out of his pack, wrapping one end around his wrist a couple times before tying it off with a clove hitch. With the other, he begun to swing the hooked end through the air, gathering speed, as he eyed the top of a tower. He was standing on the ballista perhaps a dozen and a half feet below the top of the tower. The intelligence he had gathered told him that this was the tower that the blueprints he required were kept in.

The hook flung up high, pulling the rope along with it, as James watched it fly. It dropped for only a moment before latching onto the stone up at the top. A couple tugs ensured that it wasn't going to move. He dropped over the edge of the ballista, falling a few feet before the rope grew taut, holding him in place. He placed his feet firmly on the wall, placed himself perpendicular to its stone, and began to walk, slowly curling the rope around his wrist to keep it tight.

There was a distinct risk of being seen this way. He had eliminated many of the opposing forces, but certainly not all of them. And there may be someone watching at the top of the tower, who could kick his hook loose. But James did not have time for such concerns. And besides - if he was going to go out, he was not going to go out alone.