Post by Possessedcheddar on Jun 22, 2014 7:35:30 GMT -5
"Personal Outreach"
Location: New America, New York
You can never understand the true concept of what plummeting from a three thousand five hundred foot tall building is like in under a minute until you've done it head first.
I thought this just as I began my dive from the lofty heights of Vigil Tower, the tallest building on the city skyline. Or so the travel brochures claimed. In reality the Lizander Tower was the tallest due to its radio mast. Of course no one cares about that.
I sure didn't. My mind was racing but my body was calm and working as if I were on solid ground many feet below, even my breathing was normal. It's as if I'd done this many times before, which I had. Even after this many times, it was still amusing how the mind wanders in the midst of doing strenuous activities.
My objective though, was not to become the next in a long line of greasy spots on the ground. My aim was to reach the building known as the "Civilian Observation and Outreach Center".
It was not as nice a place as it sounded. Government buildings usually aren't.
As the wind whipped past me, I barely felt it, so focused was I on the rather small hexagon of lights atop the Center. Within lay one of the most vile and corrupt government agencies in New America.
The Civilian Observation and Outreach Center is the branch of government controlling government benefits, subsidized housing, food allocation, medical expenditures, and transport for the lowest class of americans. In exchange for access into the Outreach Program, applicants are required to be "chipped" or implanted with a locator chip so that they can be tracked at all times.
That in itself is not a bad thing, necessarily, but in this case it allows them to track the movements of the program's applicants and abduct them at opportune times for genetic and biological testing.
That's part is bad.
It was a perfect and nightmarish system. Most of the people,in the program were from families too poor to fund a private investigation. So they turned, of course,to the NAPD. The NAPD is, of course, a government agency that had been paid to look the other way in the case of COOC business. Diabolical.
I had been hired to cut off its head. Any other limbs along the way would not be missed, but the head was what I got paid for. Alvin Exum Ross is the full name of my target. Pretty soon he will receive some outreach of his own.
I've spent the past month learning all I can about Ross, his habits, places he frequents, stores he enjoys, locations of interest to him, etc. Anything to give me an edge or some way to strike at him. In the end I discovered that this job would take some old fashioned grunt work to pull off. For a reward of 2,000,000 Credits, I was perfectly happy to do grunt work.
My flight was coming to an end as the hexagonal shape began to increase quite rapidly in size. I flipped over with my feet now pointing down and activated the reverse air flow impellers on my armor. Soundlessly and effortlessly, I dropped at the edge of the roof top bathed in red lights.
I had come a'knocking. Quietly, of course.
My armor picked up the red lights, causing me to blend in with its active camouflaging technology. It took a constantly updated image of what was in front of me and projected it across my body to ensure that I remained hidden. Or until someone bumped into me. I had that happen once.
I drew a my pistol, a little bulky for stealth work but I used it nonetheless. It fired small flechette rounds, each projectile about as thick as a hair and roughly 2 inches long. These flechettes were coated with a wonderful little compound known as a lethal Botulinum toxin, or BTX, one of the most dangerous neurotoxins known to man.
One of its more useful abilities, in addition to a quick and painful death, is the ability to create muscular paralysis. A useful tool when trying to get away from unhappy pursuers. With pistol in hand, I advanced towards the only obvious entry on the rooftop.
As I moved towards the hatch a guard on a roving patrol came around one of the air handlers that dotted the rooftops. There was no way he could see me, but the fact that he stared straight at me and advanced was slightly unnerving.
I pulled the trigger. 20 hair thin tungsten carbide rounds shredded the man's armor and he fell to the ground in a heap of useless limbs, dead even before he finished moving. Due to the extremely small rounds I used, there was rarely any blood at all associated with a kill. This was useful for when I had to hide bodies. I am not really a fan of big smearing trails of blood leaving a breadcrumb trail to all the inventive places I hide my kills. Bad for my reputation.
I drug the man, one handed, to the nearest air handler and before kicking him under it, searched his corpse for useful items. A key card was one of the more useful things I discovered. With key in hand, I kicked him under the machinery with ease. The armor I used was lightweight but allowed me to effortlessly lift and manipulate things weighing upwards of 300 pounds.
With the body hidden away I began my move to the nearest door. When I opened it a series of stairwells greeted me, I flew down them in a flash, my armor systems barely able to keep up with how fast I moved.
I was on the 280th floor when I came in the roof Entry, Ross's office resided on the 278th, I was there within a minute of gaining entry to the building. I paused before entering the hallway, taking a moment to snake a wire thin camera probe around the doorframe so I could see what waited for me.
Six men stood outside the office and none of them were NAPD. These men weren't police officers at all. They were military, an unexpected variable. It was no matter, within seconds they would die just like everyone else.
I stepped into the hallway, fully confident in my camouflage and raised my pistol. In unison the six men turned to me and raised their arms. This surprised me greatly. Somehow they could see me.
From each arm a salvo of light emitted with a whine of superheated air as the lasers fired. I had barely any time to move in the confines of this hallway.
I dove forward, firing as I went, filling the hall with BTX laced death. The impellers on my boots now pushed me forward and I collided with the first man, catching him before he hit the ground. With shield in arm, I fired four times. 80 needles hit their targets, turning them into some sort of twitching and ghastly looking acupuncture accident.
The double doors to Ross's office loomed large in front of me and as I approached them, they exploded. I was lifted bodily from the floor and launched into the far wall, unceremoniously flung into the corpses I'd made.
Guess I wouldn't need that key card.
Inside the room I saw what looked like at least 10 other men, and a triumphant looking Ross standing with them.
"We knew you'd be coming, Simon. And so we made sure your welcome would be adequate."
I grimaced, hating the taste of my own blood. Something was broken, I could feel that. No matter, I had a job to do. I rose from the ground and charged.
The soldiers moved to intercept me and quickly we traded blows. It was a brutal hand-to-hand with well trained participants. The dance of death was made slightly easier for me in that only four men can attack one opponent at a time effectively. So at any time I only had 4 men to contend with instead of ten.
I drew my knife and bulldogged the first man, a quick, almost unseeable flash of straight jabs to the neck and chest with the knife and pushes back with my free hand. The man sprayed blood to the ceiling, all over me, and the floor. My camouflage shorted out and I was now clearly visible.
One down, nine to go. The next wave came and I grabbed two men by their arms, twisting them and pulling them past me, tearing all sorts of tendons and muscles, leaving those arms useless. The next two hit as soon as I had finished with the first men. One received a knife to through the eye for my troubles.
The remaining soldiers began to fire, now that I only had one man to fight, they had a clear shot. Several solid beams impacted my light armor and caused me to stumble. I grabbed the soldier in front of me by his chin and wrenched his head to the side, quickly and nastily dispatching him. Once again, I used a soldier as a shield. My flechette gun was gone, but this man's laser worked fine.
I raised his arm and pulled the firing bar as soldiers dove left and right. Ross stood in front of his desk, mouth agape. I shot him too.
Seven rounds impacted his torso and neck, killing him instantly. With my Mark dead and my helmet camera recording my kill, my work was done, now I just needed to escape.
I patted the soldier I was carrying down and discovered a trio of grenades. I thumbed all the activators at once and pushed him at his friends. The grenades exploded spectacularly and blew out a whole section of windows and floor. I dove past the remaining soldiers and into the night sky, my mission was over. The total time elapsed had been 3minutes and 34seconds. Not bad, still not my best, but not bad.
The night welcomed me and I embraced it as I fell from the lofty heights of the criminally corrupt and back down to the slums of the common rabble.
It was time to collect.
Location: New America, New York
You can never understand the true concept of what plummeting from a three thousand five hundred foot tall building is like in under a minute until you've done it head first.
I thought this just as I began my dive from the lofty heights of Vigil Tower, the tallest building on the city skyline. Or so the travel brochures claimed. In reality the Lizander Tower was the tallest due to its radio mast. Of course no one cares about that.
I sure didn't. My mind was racing but my body was calm and working as if I were on solid ground many feet below, even my breathing was normal. It's as if I'd done this many times before, which I had. Even after this many times, it was still amusing how the mind wanders in the midst of doing strenuous activities.
My objective though, was not to become the next in a long line of greasy spots on the ground. My aim was to reach the building known as the "Civilian Observation and Outreach Center".
It was not as nice a place as it sounded. Government buildings usually aren't.
As the wind whipped past me, I barely felt it, so focused was I on the rather small hexagon of lights atop the Center. Within lay one of the most vile and corrupt government agencies in New America.
The Civilian Observation and Outreach Center is the branch of government controlling government benefits, subsidized housing, food allocation, medical expenditures, and transport for the lowest class of americans. In exchange for access into the Outreach Program, applicants are required to be "chipped" or implanted with a locator chip so that they can be tracked at all times.
That in itself is not a bad thing, necessarily, but in this case it allows them to track the movements of the program's applicants and abduct them at opportune times for genetic and biological testing.
That's part is bad.
It was a perfect and nightmarish system. Most of the people,in the program were from families too poor to fund a private investigation. So they turned, of course,to the NAPD. The NAPD is, of course, a government agency that had been paid to look the other way in the case of COOC business. Diabolical.
I had been hired to cut off its head. Any other limbs along the way would not be missed, but the head was what I got paid for. Alvin Exum Ross is the full name of my target. Pretty soon he will receive some outreach of his own.
I've spent the past month learning all I can about Ross, his habits, places he frequents, stores he enjoys, locations of interest to him, etc. Anything to give me an edge or some way to strike at him. In the end I discovered that this job would take some old fashioned grunt work to pull off. For a reward of 2,000,000 Credits, I was perfectly happy to do grunt work.
My flight was coming to an end as the hexagonal shape began to increase quite rapidly in size. I flipped over with my feet now pointing down and activated the reverse air flow impellers on my armor. Soundlessly and effortlessly, I dropped at the edge of the roof top bathed in red lights.
I had come a'knocking. Quietly, of course.
My armor picked up the red lights, causing me to blend in with its active camouflaging technology. It took a constantly updated image of what was in front of me and projected it across my body to ensure that I remained hidden. Or until someone bumped into me. I had that happen once.
I drew a my pistol, a little bulky for stealth work but I used it nonetheless. It fired small flechette rounds, each projectile about as thick as a hair and roughly 2 inches long. These flechettes were coated with a wonderful little compound known as a lethal Botulinum toxin, or BTX, one of the most dangerous neurotoxins known to man.
One of its more useful abilities, in addition to a quick and painful death, is the ability to create muscular paralysis. A useful tool when trying to get away from unhappy pursuers. With pistol in hand, I advanced towards the only obvious entry on the rooftop.
As I moved towards the hatch a guard on a roving patrol came around one of the air handlers that dotted the rooftops. There was no way he could see me, but the fact that he stared straight at me and advanced was slightly unnerving.
I pulled the trigger. 20 hair thin tungsten carbide rounds shredded the man's armor and he fell to the ground in a heap of useless limbs, dead even before he finished moving. Due to the extremely small rounds I used, there was rarely any blood at all associated with a kill. This was useful for when I had to hide bodies. I am not really a fan of big smearing trails of blood leaving a breadcrumb trail to all the inventive places I hide my kills. Bad for my reputation.
I drug the man, one handed, to the nearest air handler and before kicking him under it, searched his corpse for useful items. A key card was one of the more useful things I discovered. With key in hand, I kicked him under the machinery with ease. The armor I used was lightweight but allowed me to effortlessly lift and manipulate things weighing upwards of 300 pounds.
With the body hidden away I began my move to the nearest door. When I opened it a series of stairwells greeted me, I flew down them in a flash, my armor systems barely able to keep up with how fast I moved.
I was on the 280th floor when I came in the roof Entry, Ross's office resided on the 278th, I was there within a minute of gaining entry to the building. I paused before entering the hallway, taking a moment to snake a wire thin camera probe around the doorframe so I could see what waited for me.
Six men stood outside the office and none of them were NAPD. These men weren't police officers at all. They were military, an unexpected variable. It was no matter, within seconds they would die just like everyone else.
I stepped into the hallway, fully confident in my camouflage and raised my pistol. In unison the six men turned to me and raised their arms. This surprised me greatly. Somehow they could see me.
From each arm a salvo of light emitted with a whine of superheated air as the lasers fired. I had barely any time to move in the confines of this hallway.
I dove forward, firing as I went, filling the hall with BTX laced death. The impellers on my boots now pushed me forward and I collided with the first man, catching him before he hit the ground. With shield in arm, I fired four times. 80 needles hit their targets, turning them into some sort of twitching and ghastly looking acupuncture accident.
The double doors to Ross's office loomed large in front of me and as I approached them, they exploded. I was lifted bodily from the floor and launched into the far wall, unceremoniously flung into the corpses I'd made.
Guess I wouldn't need that key card.
Inside the room I saw what looked like at least 10 other men, and a triumphant looking Ross standing with them.
"We knew you'd be coming, Simon. And so we made sure your welcome would be adequate."
I grimaced, hating the taste of my own blood. Something was broken, I could feel that. No matter, I had a job to do. I rose from the ground and charged.
The soldiers moved to intercept me and quickly we traded blows. It was a brutal hand-to-hand with well trained participants. The dance of death was made slightly easier for me in that only four men can attack one opponent at a time effectively. So at any time I only had 4 men to contend with instead of ten.
I drew my knife and bulldogged the first man, a quick, almost unseeable flash of straight jabs to the neck and chest with the knife and pushes back with my free hand. The man sprayed blood to the ceiling, all over me, and the floor. My camouflage shorted out and I was now clearly visible.
One down, nine to go. The next wave came and I grabbed two men by their arms, twisting them and pulling them past me, tearing all sorts of tendons and muscles, leaving those arms useless. The next two hit as soon as I had finished with the first men. One received a knife to through the eye for my troubles.
The remaining soldiers began to fire, now that I only had one man to fight, they had a clear shot. Several solid beams impacted my light armor and caused me to stumble. I grabbed the soldier in front of me by his chin and wrenched his head to the side, quickly and nastily dispatching him. Once again, I used a soldier as a shield. My flechette gun was gone, but this man's laser worked fine.
I raised his arm and pulled the firing bar as soldiers dove left and right. Ross stood in front of his desk, mouth agape. I shot him too.
Seven rounds impacted his torso and neck, killing him instantly. With my Mark dead and my helmet camera recording my kill, my work was done, now I just needed to escape.
I patted the soldier I was carrying down and discovered a trio of grenades. I thumbed all the activators at once and pushed him at his friends. The grenades exploded spectacularly and blew out a whole section of windows and floor. I dove past the remaining soldiers and into the night sky, my mission was over. The total time elapsed had been 3minutes and 34seconds. Not bad, still not my best, but not bad.
The night welcomed me and I embraced it as I fell from the lofty heights of the criminally corrupt and back down to the slums of the common rabble.
It was time to collect.