Longshot
Mavericks of all types shuffled through the street below him, going about their questionable and likely illicit business. Gabriel watched from his rooftop with an uncaring gaze. His concentration remained focused on the doorway across from his location. He studied every face that passed in front of his scope, remaining on one for just a split second before flitting to the next. His body was still and relaxed, his easy breathing providing the only visible movement. His mind remained firmly fixed on his target's image – a red-haired Maverick nicknamed Sniffer.
The man meant nothing to Gabriel. This was merely the task his bosses required of him. And he'd accepted the job with the same practiced “Yes sir” he'd been giving for as long as he could remember. Another face, another target, another incomprehensible gain for his superiors. None of that mattered to Gabriel. He was more than content to be a catalyst; a metaphorical go-between. It gave him a sense of purpose, knowing that without him and his rifle, the entire plan fell apart.
A flash of red flared into his magnified view, and Gabriel adjusted accordingly. The man in view matched exactly with the image in his mind. Satisfaction bloomed in Gabriel's chest as he readied himself. All according to plan. He was even on schedule.
Time seemed to stretch as Sniffer's profile came into view, slowing down for everyone but Gabriel. A gentle pressure on the trigger and the Clockstopper bucked against his shoulder. His free hand was already a blur of motion, moving before the first shot cleared the barrel, and by the time Gabriel re-aligned his sight the next round was loaded and ready to fire. He watched as the Maverick started to drop, his hyperactive senses taking in every detail. Another bit of pressure and the rifle jumped again. Sniffer slumped to the ground, half of his skull decorating much of the wall behind him.
Gabriel lifted his head from its resting spot and carefully watched the street below. Even in this day and age firearms were noisy and obvious. He had certainly caused a bit of panic after the initial shock wore off, and most of the Mavericks in the street had already drawn their own weapons and were ready for imminent danger. But two had instantly caught Gabriel's attention. They had stayed a respectable distance from Sniffer and done well to blend in with the crowd, but it's tough for professional bodyguards to deal with the sudden loss of their charge calmly. They knew well enough to not go rushing into the line of fire, and could easily discern their mark was well beyond assistance. One of the guards, a man that appeared to be more metal than muscle, instantly whipped his head around and stared at Gabriel's hidden sniper nest the moment the gunman made him. He shouted to his partner and pointed.
But Gabriel was already on the move. He'd leapt from his nest the moment the bodyguard sensed him, unlimbering his PAW from its mount on his back. His fingers lingered over his pack of incendiaries before grabbing the flashbangs. His superiors always frowned upon unnecessary casualties; said they're “bad for business”. He loaded the grenades, checked the regular magazine, then leapt from the rooftop and started moving around the guards' left side. Midday was not his favorite fighting environment, but he could easily adapt.
As he closed the distance he fired a flashbang followed by a five-round burst. He ducked into a small alcove before the grenade detonated. A startled shout went up as nearby Mavericks were suddenly rendered temporarily blind and deaf. Gabriel darted out of his cover to find both guards already bearing down on him. At this close of range Gabriel could now make out the metallic sheen on both the guards' irises. Damn cybernetics. Another five-round burst punctuated his short retreat, catching the mostly-normal guard in the chest and dropping him to the ground.
A bolt of energy blasted past Gabriel's head, nearly singeing his close-cropped blond hair. He ducked behind cover once again, mentally shuffling through the contents of his many pockets and pouches. He chanced a glance back at the other bodyguard, only to have to yank his head back to avoid another sizzling blast. The other bodyguard – Gabriel thought of him mas the cyborg, with as much cybernetic augmentation he'd had applied to himself – was bearing down fast on his location. He fished a small cylinder from a pocket, pressed a button, then dropped it at his feet. He waited for the cyborg to get close enough, then leapt up and bolted away. Another beam lanced past him before Gabriel heard the thump and distinctive crackling of his dropped EMP grenade. The following cry of despair confirmed his theory, as the cyborg suddenly found himself paralyzed. Judging by the quickly shortening gasps he was making, it was safe to assume the man had had some internal organs replaced as well.
Gabriel glanced around him, finally taking in the rest of the scene. Every other Maverick had cleared out once they'd regained their vision, but Gabriel was sure that reinforcements would likely be on their way. He didn't need to see the familiar tattoos or look up the guards' rap sheets to know he'd just killed a couple of Cartel enforcers. What a freelancer like Sniffer was doing getting tangled into the Gambler's web was none of his concern. Judging that there were no other immediate threats, Gabriel went to collect his rifle and return to the Maverick client to debrief.
Security was notably tighter when Gabriel went for his follow-up meeting. Several guards had been added to the payroll, along with a handful of new bots. Someone had even been willing to hire a freelance kizen to scan for weaponry. Sure, a metal detector will notice most standard weaponry, but a telepath can pick out the ones willing to kill with their bare hands. However, Gabriel managed to pass through all the checkpoints without a problem. They all knew who he was, or at least who he represented.
Gabriel was lead down a long corridor to a featureless door. His escort, a great brute of a man with optic enhancements and a metallic right hand, entered a passcode on the keypad set into the wall next to the door. Gabriel shifted slightly under his oversized duster, impatient. The door finally opened and the man stepped back to allow Gabriel through.
The office was impressive, for it being on Ceres. It had understated elegance and had likely cost a small fortune to furnish. There was no one seated behind the large polished wood desk, so Gabriel took the opportunity to set up. He removed his large coat and methodically began removing his arsenal from their holders. He took great care to unload each weapon and pocket the ammunition. He also withdrew a small cube from one of his many pockets and set it on the table beside the weaponry. Then he pulled up one of the guest chairs, took a seat, and waited.
Several minutes passed before a small side door opened and two men came out. The larger of the two was his original escort. The second man was small and compact, with the jet-black hair and distinctive facial features of a Gongen. His dark eyes studied both Gabriel and the items on the desk for a short time, then he muttered something into what Gabriel assumed was a throat mic. Each man took a position on either side of the desk facing him as a third man stepped out of the side door. This man was tall, with an air of authority about him. His dark hair was swept back away from his eyes and fell nearly to his broad shoulders. He took his seat behind the desk and gazed upon the various items in front of him. When he spoke, he did so slowly, as if he weighed each word before it left him, making sure it was worth being spoken. “Since you have returned, I am to assume you have upheld your company's part in this?”
Instead of answering directly, Gabriel launched into his narrative. “I'll not waste either of our times with the preliminaries, and begin directly at the elimination.” He gestured to the Clockstopper on the desk in front of him, a Colt-Burton Series V Sniper Rifle customized with a thermographic scope and extended barrel. “The target was dispatched by two rounds fired from this rifle in the space of less than 800 milliseconds, placed approximately 3 centimeters apart, at a distance of 150 meters.” He activated the small cube, and a holographic image appeared in the air between them. It showed Sniffer's corpse, the two bullet holes clearly evident just inches from his right temple. “His bodyguards were quick to respond, and they were eliminated using the Colt-Burton M7-A3 PAW Assault Rifle loaded with 20mm flashbangs.” A second image replaced the first, showing the two dead bodyguards. “The crowd dispersed rapidly once the firefight started, preventing collateral damage. No evidence was left behind to incriminate any guilty party, though it's not going to stop the Cartel from trying. So yes,” Gabriel concluded, “our part of the deal is complete.”
“And in exchange for the removal of our nuisance?”
“You stop sending fleets to steal from the transport ships. And to secure your exclusive interest in Colt-Burton firearms, you'll receive the preferred customer dis-count.”
The man was silent for a while, his eyes fixed firmly upon the hologram hovering above his desk. Gabriel sat calmly, waiting to hear the final word that would close this deal. All the planning, the tracking, the killing had led to this moment. He had done his job to a tee. There was nothing for him to second guess, but something in the client's eyes told him there was more to this deal than he realized.
“Very well,” the man finally acknowledged. “I'll sign the paperwork with your superiors as soon as we're through here.”
Gabriel nodded in acceptance, though something gnawed at him in the pit of his stomach. It was a vague sense of unease, something he hadn't felt in quite a while. As he quickly gathered up his things he noticed the man still gazing intently at the hologram. Gabriel deactivated the cube and stored it away. The man blinked in surprise, then glanced over at the Gongen gentleman. They shared a look for a split second, then they both started moving towards the side door. The large man that brought Gabriel to the room waited until everything was prepared, then led him back out the way they came.
The shuttle ride from Ceres back to Earth was long even for a GRAV 5 engine, but uneventful. Gabriel spent the entire trip reflecting over this last mission just as he did every other mission he'd done. Something about the whole thing bothered him, though he was well-known in Colt-Burton for being uncaring and just as cold as the black. He was a true professional, moving from one job to the next with no questions, no regrets, and certainly no mistakes. But this last bit felt like the start of something big.
As the ship broke atmo and neared the port, Gabriel physically shook his head to clear it. He had a full day before he was due back to Colt-Burton and he wasn't going to spend it obsessing about a job that was over and done with. By this time next week it was likely he'd be hunting down some renegade on Luna. Gabriel allowed himself a small smile. Just another job, another turning of the wheel.
Being an important aspect of Colt-Burton's operations had its benefits. Gabriel's sparsely-furnished apartment was larger than most Earther's, but much less lived-in. His various jobs sent him to some of the farthest reaches of the system, leaving little time to get settled in to the spacious living quarters his performance earned him. His keycard's presence in the elevator's scanner had instantly triggered the lights inside his apartment, along with kicking on the environmental system. Though Gabriel knew that the entire place would have that musty, disused smell. No amount of technology could fully eliminate it. Sure enough, as he unlocked the door and walked in, the smell still lingered in the air, somehow getting through the air fresheners sprayed into the ventilation systems.
There were a few constants in his life however, and a fully-stocked bar along one window was one of them. Gabriel made himself a drink and sat on the sofa facing the window. Natural sunlight was a nice perk to living in the second tier of New York Plex, though the shops and entertainment failed to hold his interest. A ruddy orange light filled the nearly-empty apartment as the sun began to set. Gabriel took a sip of his liquor and savored the warming sensation it sent through his body as it went down. He sighed in contentment and watched the day come to a close.
“Show me the holo he was interested in,” Mycroft grumbled.
Gabriel had just finished walking his immediate boss through the conversation he had had with the Maverick client, putting special emphasis upon the man's focused intent on the holographic image. He withdrew the cube and activated it, once again bringing up the view of the two dead guards. Mycroft studied it as he spoke to Gabriel. “What did you tell him about their deaths?”
“That they were terminated with the PAW and flashbangs, sir.”
“Was that the case?”
“Not entirely, sir. I used the experimental EMP grenade to eliminate the cybernetically-enhanced guard.”
Mycroft's eyes were still on the hologram, though they were clouded in thought. “Was any video taken of the encounter?”
“Not that I could find, sir. The program appropriated from CISyn revealed no other capture devices outside of the two I've wiped.”
“Witnesses?”
“No sir. The flashbang did well enough to clear the immediate area.”
Mycroft's eyes finally came up to meet Gabriel's. Something flitted across Gabriel's thoughts, a mental probe searching for information. But after a moment his boss nodded. “Whatever mental shields you have in place are doing the trick. It's likely that Gongen you saw was a kizen as well.” He pursed his lips in contemplation. “I'll send it up the chain of command, but it's unlikely that even if he suspects something, he'll be able to dig anything up. You turn in your field test results to the engineers?”
“Yes sir. Along with the spare grenades.”
Mycroft Hamlin stood and stretched out his full six-foot frame. “All right then, I figure that'll wrap that up well enough for them. As usual, you're account's been updated, though there's currently no other jobs for you just yet. I'm hearing we have some deals in the works with a space station headed out near the Rift.” He chuckled. “Fat load of good it'll do them, but hell, we'll sell to whoever's paying. Go get some rest, Gabe. We'll contact you with your next assignment.”
“Yes sir.” Though the shortening of his name had always set his teeth on edge, Gabriel snapped to attention and saluted as if he hadn't taken notice of it.
The man meant nothing to Gabriel. This was merely the task his bosses required of him. And he'd accepted the job with the same practiced “Yes sir” he'd been giving for as long as he could remember. Another face, another target, another incomprehensible gain for his superiors. None of that mattered to Gabriel. He was more than content to be a catalyst; a metaphorical go-between. It gave him a sense of purpose, knowing that without him and his rifle, the entire plan fell apart.
A flash of red flared into his magnified view, and Gabriel adjusted accordingly. The man in view matched exactly with the image in his mind. Satisfaction bloomed in Gabriel's chest as he readied himself. All according to plan. He was even on schedule.
Time seemed to stretch as Sniffer's profile came into view, slowing down for everyone but Gabriel. A gentle pressure on the trigger and the Clockstopper bucked against his shoulder. His free hand was already a blur of motion, moving before the first shot cleared the barrel, and by the time Gabriel re-aligned his sight the next round was loaded and ready to fire. He watched as the Maverick started to drop, his hyperactive senses taking in every detail. Another bit of pressure and the rifle jumped again. Sniffer slumped to the ground, half of his skull decorating much of the wall behind him.
Gabriel lifted his head from its resting spot and carefully watched the street below. Even in this day and age firearms were noisy and obvious. He had certainly caused a bit of panic after the initial shock wore off, and most of the Mavericks in the street had already drawn their own weapons and were ready for imminent danger. But two had instantly caught Gabriel's attention. They had stayed a respectable distance from Sniffer and done well to blend in with the crowd, but it's tough for professional bodyguards to deal with the sudden loss of their charge calmly. They knew well enough to not go rushing into the line of fire, and could easily discern their mark was well beyond assistance. One of the guards, a man that appeared to be more metal than muscle, instantly whipped his head around and stared at Gabriel's hidden sniper nest the moment the gunman made him. He shouted to his partner and pointed.
But Gabriel was already on the move. He'd leapt from his nest the moment the bodyguard sensed him, unlimbering his PAW from its mount on his back. His fingers lingered over his pack of incendiaries before grabbing the flashbangs. His superiors always frowned upon unnecessary casualties; said they're “bad for business”. He loaded the grenades, checked the regular magazine, then leapt from the rooftop and started moving around the guards' left side. Midday was not his favorite fighting environment, but he could easily adapt.
As he closed the distance he fired a flashbang followed by a five-round burst. He ducked into a small alcove before the grenade detonated. A startled shout went up as nearby Mavericks were suddenly rendered temporarily blind and deaf. Gabriel darted out of his cover to find both guards already bearing down on him. At this close of range Gabriel could now make out the metallic sheen on both the guards' irises. Damn cybernetics. Another five-round burst punctuated his short retreat, catching the mostly-normal guard in the chest and dropping him to the ground.
A bolt of energy blasted past Gabriel's head, nearly singeing his close-cropped blond hair. He ducked behind cover once again, mentally shuffling through the contents of his many pockets and pouches. He chanced a glance back at the other bodyguard, only to have to yank his head back to avoid another sizzling blast. The other bodyguard – Gabriel thought of him mas the cyborg, with as much cybernetic augmentation he'd had applied to himself – was bearing down fast on his location. He fished a small cylinder from a pocket, pressed a button, then dropped it at his feet. He waited for the cyborg to get close enough, then leapt up and bolted away. Another beam lanced past him before Gabriel heard the thump and distinctive crackling of his dropped EMP grenade. The following cry of despair confirmed his theory, as the cyborg suddenly found himself paralyzed. Judging by the quickly shortening gasps he was making, it was safe to assume the man had had some internal organs replaced as well.
Gabriel glanced around him, finally taking in the rest of the scene. Every other Maverick had cleared out once they'd regained their vision, but Gabriel was sure that reinforcements would likely be on their way. He didn't need to see the familiar tattoos or look up the guards' rap sheets to know he'd just killed a couple of Cartel enforcers. What a freelancer like Sniffer was doing getting tangled into the Gambler's web was none of his concern. Judging that there were no other immediate threats, Gabriel went to collect his rifle and return to the Maverick client to debrief.
Security was notably tighter when Gabriel went for his follow-up meeting. Several guards had been added to the payroll, along with a handful of new bots. Someone had even been willing to hire a freelance kizen to scan for weaponry. Sure, a metal detector will notice most standard weaponry, but a telepath can pick out the ones willing to kill with their bare hands. However, Gabriel managed to pass through all the checkpoints without a problem. They all knew who he was, or at least who he represented.
Gabriel was lead down a long corridor to a featureless door. His escort, a great brute of a man with optic enhancements and a metallic right hand, entered a passcode on the keypad set into the wall next to the door. Gabriel shifted slightly under his oversized duster, impatient. The door finally opened and the man stepped back to allow Gabriel through.
The office was impressive, for it being on Ceres. It had understated elegance and had likely cost a small fortune to furnish. There was no one seated behind the large polished wood desk, so Gabriel took the opportunity to set up. He removed his large coat and methodically began removing his arsenal from their holders. He took great care to unload each weapon and pocket the ammunition. He also withdrew a small cube from one of his many pockets and set it on the table beside the weaponry. Then he pulled up one of the guest chairs, took a seat, and waited.
Several minutes passed before a small side door opened and two men came out. The larger of the two was his original escort. The second man was small and compact, with the jet-black hair and distinctive facial features of a Gongen. His dark eyes studied both Gabriel and the items on the desk for a short time, then he muttered something into what Gabriel assumed was a throat mic. Each man took a position on either side of the desk facing him as a third man stepped out of the side door. This man was tall, with an air of authority about him. His dark hair was swept back away from his eyes and fell nearly to his broad shoulders. He took his seat behind the desk and gazed upon the various items in front of him. When he spoke, he did so slowly, as if he weighed each word before it left him, making sure it was worth being spoken. “Since you have returned, I am to assume you have upheld your company's part in this?”
Instead of answering directly, Gabriel launched into his narrative. “I'll not waste either of our times with the preliminaries, and begin directly at the elimination.” He gestured to the Clockstopper on the desk in front of him, a Colt-Burton Series V Sniper Rifle customized with a thermographic scope and extended barrel. “The target was dispatched by two rounds fired from this rifle in the space of less than 800 milliseconds, placed approximately 3 centimeters apart, at a distance of 150 meters.” He activated the small cube, and a holographic image appeared in the air between them. It showed Sniffer's corpse, the two bullet holes clearly evident just inches from his right temple. “His bodyguards were quick to respond, and they were eliminated using the Colt-Burton M7-A3 PAW Assault Rifle loaded with 20mm flashbangs.” A second image replaced the first, showing the two dead bodyguards. “The crowd dispersed rapidly once the firefight started, preventing collateral damage. No evidence was left behind to incriminate any guilty party, though it's not going to stop the Cartel from trying. So yes,” Gabriel concluded, “our part of the deal is complete.”
“And in exchange for the removal of our nuisance?”
“You stop sending fleets to steal from the transport ships. And to secure your exclusive interest in Colt-Burton firearms, you'll receive the preferred customer dis-count.”
The man was silent for a while, his eyes fixed firmly upon the hologram hovering above his desk. Gabriel sat calmly, waiting to hear the final word that would close this deal. All the planning, the tracking, the killing had led to this moment. He had done his job to a tee. There was nothing for him to second guess, but something in the client's eyes told him there was more to this deal than he realized.
“Very well,” the man finally acknowledged. “I'll sign the paperwork with your superiors as soon as we're through here.”
Gabriel nodded in acceptance, though something gnawed at him in the pit of his stomach. It was a vague sense of unease, something he hadn't felt in quite a while. As he quickly gathered up his things he noticed the man still gazing intently at the hologram. Gabriel deactivated the cube and stored it away. The man blinked in surprise, then glanced over at the Gongen gentleman. They shared a look for a split second, then they both started moving towards the side door. The large man that brought Gabriel to the room waited until everything was prepared, then led him back out the way they came.
The shuttle ride from Ceres back to Earth was long even for a GRAV 5 engine, but uneventful. Gabriel spent the entire trip reflecting over this last mission just as he did every other mission he'd done. Something about the whole thing bothered him, though he was well-known in Colt-Burton for being uncaring and just as cold as the black. He was a true professional, moving from one job to the next with no questions, no regrets, and certainly no mistakes. But this last bit felt like the start of something big.
As the ship broke atmo and neared the port, Gabriel physically shook his head to clear it. He had a full day before he was due back to Colt-Burton and he wasn't going to spend it obsessing about a job that was over and done with. By this time next week it was likely he'd be hunting down some renegade on Luna. Gabriel allowed himself a small smile. Just another job, another turning of the wheel.
Being an important aspect of Colt-Burton's operations had its benefits. Gabriel's sparsely-furnished apartment was larger than most Earther's, but much less lived-in. His various jobs sent him to some of the farthest reaches of the system, leaving little time to get settled in to the spacious living quarters his performance earned him. His keycard's presence in the elevator's scanner had instantly triggered the lights inside his apartment, along with kicking on the environmental system. Though Gabriel knew that the entire place would have that musty, disused smell. No amount of technology could fully eliminate it. Sure enough, as he unlocked the door and walked in, the smell still lingered in the air, somehow getting through the air fresheners sprayed into the ventilation systems.
There were a few constants in his life however, and a fully-stocked bar along one window was one of them. Gabriel made himself a drink and sat on the sofa facing the window. Natural sunlight was a nice perk to living in the second tier of New York Plex, though the shops and entertainment failed to hold his interest. A ruddy orange light filled the nearly-empty apartment as the sun began to set. Gabriel took a sip of his liquor and savored the warming sensation it sent through his body as it went down. He sighed in contentment and watched the day come to a close.
“Show me the holo he was interested in,” Mycroft grumbled.
Gabriel had just finished walking his immediate boss through the conversation he had had with the Maverick client, putting special emphasis upon the man's focused intent on the holographic image. He withdrew the cube and activated it, once again bringing up the view of the two dead guards. Mycroft studied it as he spoke to Gabriel. “What did you tell him about their deaths?”
“That they were terminated with the PAW and flashbangs, sir.”
“Was that the case?”
“Not entirely, sir. I used the experimental EMP grenade to eliminate the cybernetically-enhanced guard.”
Mycroft's eyes were still on the hologram, though they were clouded in thought. “Was any video taken of the encounter?”
“Not that I could find, sir. The program appropriated from CISyn revealed no other capture devices outside of the two I've wiped.”
“Witnesses?”
“No sir. The flashbang did well enough to clear the immediate area.”
Mycroft's eyes finally came up to meet Gabriel's. Something flitted across Gabriel's thoughts, a mental probe searching for information. But after a moment his boss nodded. “Whatever mental shields you have in place are doing the trick. It's likely that Gongen you saw was a kizen as well.” He pursed his lips in contemplation. “I'll send it up the chain of command, but it's unlikely that even if he suspects something, he'll be able to dig anything up. You turn in your field test results to the engineers?”
“Yes sir. Along with the spare grenades.”
Mycroft Hamlin stood and stretched out his full six-foot frame. “All right then, I figure that'll wrap that up well enough for them. As usual, you're account's been updated, though there's currently no other jobs for you just yet. I'm hearing we have some deals in the works with a space station headed out near the Rift.” He chuckled. “Fat load of good it'll do them, but hell, we'll sell to whoever's paying. Go get some rest, Gabe. We'll contact you with your next assignment.”
“Yes sir.” Though the shortening of his name had always set his teeth on edge, Gabriel snapped to attention and saluted as if he hadn't taken notice of it.