Bolton Rising Part 63 - Gregor
"What are you transporting?"
the gate guard questioned with suspicious eyes, reading over the
inventory ledger as his partner kept a raised assault rifle pointed
at the semi-truck along with the intense beam of a flashlight. The
pair of dogs chained up at the guard house was barking at the
intruder but raised no specific threat.
"Just the weekly fuel for all your toys. So go ahead and shoot and blow us all to kingdom come," a deep voice growled back, thick fingers tightening around the steering wheel, wanting to snap several necks instead. "Not to mention you're holding up my delivery schedule and I need to take a piss. This ain't no short ride over."
"Yeah, yeah. I can't let anyone through if they're not on the list, buddy..." the guard replied, taking his sweet time flipping through the pages of the book. "All right, here it is... Blackwater Corporation?" he chuckled, slightly amused. "Clever name for crude oil, don't you think?" The solider peered upwards at a stern face hooded under a worker's cap, dark eyes staring at him with a clenched jaw, getting no reply but a death glare. After a tense moment of silence, the guard finally shrugged and signaled the all clear with a thumbs up to his fellow soldiers. "Let him through."
Gregor Clegane exhaled a pent up breath and slowly accelerated the vehicle, driving the fuel tanker over the threshold of no return and straight into the fortified fortress of Roose Bolton. He had spent more than a week in surveillance, studying and plotting his way into the tightly secured area, finding no other way inside but to literally come knocking at the devil's front door. You better still be alive, Bastard… The Mountain cursed his best friend, Ramsay Bolton, yanking at the tight uniform collar around his wide neck, annoyed he hadn't been able to procure a larger shirt size. While the original driver of the truck had been a chunky Big and Tall kind of individual, the poor fool was no comparison to Gregor's immense height. The civilian casualty had been all too easy to take down and dispose of once the man had stopped on the side of road for a piss, instead of following strict military protocol against unsecured stops. It had been the only opportunity presented for the taking and the Mountain made his move then and there.
Clegane drove towards the fuel station inside the compound and hopped out of the truck, vowing to the bored looking attendants there to set up the pumping lines after hitting the mess hall for a quick late night meal. Even though soldiers were still on high patrol, few spared him a second glance as he strolled around casually, overhearing their whispered conversations about the caged animal in solitary confinement. You have no idea what I'm about to unleash upon all of you. Gregor seethed internally, holding his own rage in check at the treatment of his boss and friend, afraid he had arrived too late.
The Mountain eventually found an unoccupied office and hacked into the computer terminal, searching the video feeds of all the cells till he found the right target, curled up on his bed cot, naked and covered in bruises. Gregor accessed the cell's speaker box and spoke, "It's time, Bastard," smirking as Ramsay lifted his head, recognizing the voice. "You gotta move now. I'm coming." Gregor waited for no reply, detonating the remote trigger to the chemical bombs he had planted inside the fuel tanker where the intense fumes masked their scent from any guard dogs.
A catastrophic explosion rocked the fortress. Intense heat and green acidic flames came shooting down the maze of hallways, incinerating shocked and confused soldiers as alarms went off everywhere, panic spreading quickly like a disease with no leadership. Gregor punched out a glass emergency case already in the room and donned a breathing mask, taking the fire extinguisher too, before exiting and making his way to Ramsay's location. He easily strolled past scores of armed men, skin melting off their bones with chemical burns as others choked to death, their lungs filled with toxic fumes. "I expect you to meet me halfway, Bolton... or this will be all for nothing," The Mountain spoke to the crackling flames, following their path of destruction and stealing weapons off the dead, before veering off towards the prison block, knowing reinforcements would soon be upon them.
"Just the weekly fuel for all your toys. So go ahead and shoot and blow us all to kingdom come," a deep voice growled back, thick fingers tightening around the steering wheel, wanting to snap several necks instead. "Not to mention you're holding up my delivery schedule and I need to take a piss. This ain't no short ride over."
"Yeah, yeah. I can't let anyone through if they're not on the list, buddy..." the guard replied, taking his sweet time flipping through the pages of the book. "All right, here it is... Blackwater Corporation?" he chuckled, slightly amused. "Clever name for crude oil, don't you think?" The solider peered upwards at a stern face hooded under a worker's cap, dark eyes staring at him with a clenched jaw, getting no reply but a death glare. After a tense moment of silence, the guard finally shrugged and signaled the all clear with a thumbs up to his fellow soldiers. "Let him through."
Gregor Clegane exhaled a pent up breath and slowly accelerated the vehicle, driving the fuel tanker over the threshold of no return and straight into the fortified fortress of Roose Bolton. He had spent more than a week in surveillance, studying and plotting his way into the tightly secured area, finding no other way inside but to literally come knocking at the devil's front door. You better still be alive, Bastard… The Mountain cursed his best friend, Ramsay Bolton, yanking at the tight uniform collar around his wide neck, annoyed he hadn't been able to procure a larger shirt size. While the original driver of the truck had been a chunky Big and Tall kind of individual, the poor fool was no comparison to Gregor's immense height. The civilian casualty had been all too easy to take down and dispose of once the man had stopped on the side of road for a piss, instead of following strict military protocol against unsecured stops. It had been the only opportunity presented for the taking and the Mountain made his move then and there.
Clegane drove towards the fuel station inside the compound and hopped out of the truck, vowing to the bored looking attendants there to set up the pumping lines after hitting the mess hall for a quick late night meal. Even though soldiers were still on high patrol, few spared him a second glance as he strolled around casually, overhearing their whispered conversations about the caged animal in solitary confinement. You have no idea what I'm about to unleash upon all of you. Gregor seethed internally, holding his own rage in check at the treatment of his boss and friend, afraid he had arrived too late.
The Mountain eventually found an unoccupied office and hacked into the computer terminal, searching the video feeds of all the cells till he found the right target, curled up on his bed cot, naked and covered in bruises. Gregor accessed the cell's speaker box and spoke, "It's time, Bastard," smirking as Ramsay lifted his head, recognizing the voice. "You gotta move now. I'm coming." Gregor waited for no reply, detonating the remote trigger to the chemical bombs he had planted inside the fuel tanker where the intense fumes masked their scent from any guard dogs.
A catastrophic explosion rocked the fortress. Intense heat and green acidic flames came shooting down the maze of hallways, incinerating shocked and confused soldiers as alarms went off everywhere, panic spreading quickly like a disease with no leadership. Gregor punched out a glass emergency case already in the room and donned a breathing mask, taking the fire extinguisher too, before exiting and making his way to Ramsay's location. He easily strolled past scores of armed men, skin melting off their bones with chemical burns as others choked to death, their lungs filled with toxic fumes. "I expect you to meet me halfway, Bolton... or this will be all for nothing," The Mountain spoke to the crackling flames, following their path of destruction and stealing weapons off the dead, before veering off towards the prison block, knowing reinforcements would soon be upon them.
Things keep getting more and more exciting! <33
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