Detective: standard (rank 1)
He kissed the man’s wife goodbye at the front door to her house before getting into his car. I wondered how long he had been in place. I wondered if the wife was even suspicious. Probably not, poor thing. Didn’t even know her husband was missing. Didn’t recognize the agent sleeping beside her.
His morning routine was predictable, but taking the shot here was too risky. Cul-de-sac – poor line of fire and few exits. This agent chose his base of operations wisely.
Following him I knew he would pass on coffee as he was running 11 minutes late. The coffee shop was a poor site anyhow. Too many bystanders that early in the morning. Besides, I had spotted many other agents there – I’d be outnumbered if it turned into a firefight. I had to be patient and trust my research.
When I first got the contract, I thought about taking a shot while he was in his office. He’d be alone, and I could get him from an ideal elevation if I found a window across the street. Found out the building in question was a government office. Lots of security guards. Lots of cameras. Lots of locks. Lots of agents. No, I had to find something else.
I got access to his work records and could see he was putting in lots of overtime. Probably copying files for his handlers, but to what end? What were they after? I saw a draft of his employee review days before he got the news. A promotion. A raise. A new office. He was ambitious and had infiltrated his target well, but now it would cost him his life.
The agents are good, but I’ve learned to stay one step ahead.
Environmental Awareness: standard (rank 1)
I walked into the lobby with my case and immediately felt anxious. I don’t like crowds. I don’t like looking them in the eye. What if they recognize me? What if they figure out that I know? What if they’ve been sent to monitor me?
I shuffled through the office workers hurriedly. Too fast. Need to slow down. Act casual. Don’t draw attention. Stop twitching. Don’t talk out loud.
I counted the cameras and noted their locations. Two guards posted at the main desk – unarmed. Multiple exit points to the street. Stairwell to the lower foyer. Door behind the desk – likely leading to the service corridors.
I entered the elevator. Only three people. Two were definitely agents. The first was young – smiling, talking on his phone. I knew these phones had transceivers, so I shifted to make sure he couldn’t capture an image of me to send to his handler. The second was older, holding a briefcase. He looked at me as I entered and he watched which floor I chose. Obvious agent behaviour. I made a note of what floor he got off at in case I needed to double-back and cover my tracks. The woman I wasn’t sure about. I couldn’t see her eyes.
Marksman: superior (rank 2)
From my perch I could see the target. He was standing in front of his desk with his back to the window - not close enough for a decent head shot. I briefly considered firing anyhow. The agent in the elevator saw what floor I was getting off at. If he recognized me, his handlers could be sending an interception team right now. I didn't know how much time I had.
He was, however, talking to someone - a woman. Could have been his handler or another agent, but I just couldn't be sure. The League doesn't like witnesses, loose ends or collateral damage. That's why they send me on these missions. They provide the intel on the agents and I deal with them. Quietly.
My heart started racing. I was sure the man in the elevator had pegged me as suspicious. Perhaps the younger agent got my photo as I was getting on and they ran it through their data networks. I peered down the scope and tried to find an opening. Clear shot at the torso, but those kind of shots are unreliable. Neck and head not visible. Legs covered. Still talking to the woman. What was that noise? Someone in the hallway.
At last the woman left the target's office. My hands were sweaty and my twitching had gotten worse. Calm down. Calm down. Wait for it. Wait for it. There.
Piercing Weapon: superior (rank 2)
- Ranged Attack
- Long Ranged Attack
There was a scratch on one of the locks on my door. Had it been there before, or had they tried to get inside, I wondered? I poked my head out of the door to look around, but saw only Mr. Albertson from across the hall. He smiled warmly and greeted me with a friendly "hello" but his empty eyes told me everything I needed to know.
Damn. They had gotten him too.
With an agent across the hall, I could take no chances. I closed the door, locked it and rigged the shotgun trap.
I placed my case on the coffee table, walked to the kitchen and turned on the electric can opener. It was old and loud and, more importantly, jammed surveillance devices nicely. Opening the case, I removed my rifle piece by piece, placing it into the hidden compartment beneath my couch.
The phone rang. I checked the number, and answered cautiously.
I informed The Voice that the job was complete, and The Voice in turn told me my new ranking. We have never met, nor shall we. My choice. Once the League had sent a representative to deliver instructions in person, but when I answered the door, he had been replaced by an agent. It was a messy affair. The League was unhappy. I grew suspicious.
In time I figured it out. The agents had taken over the League and were using me to eliminate rogue elements amongst their own kind. As I did their dirty work, I gather my own intelligence. As I rose in the rankings, I gained their trust. When I reach #1, I'll find out what they know.
Then I'll find Abby and Michael. Then I'll stop these bastards once and for all.