Another
Precision
I watched as tears fell down the woman's cheeks, collapsing to her knees she bowed to me as if I was a sacred deity. It was interesting to watch humans emotions, in the span of 4.8 minutes, this woman had gone from arrogance and hostile to regret and hopeless so quickly that it made me raise an eyebrow at the display. Ignoring the sobbing woman for a moment, I peered into the mirror and studied my own human reflection. Over the months, I had become accustom to the woman staring back at me; I had model my appearance after one I had seen it a magazine, it appears that I would have to change my identity once again. Looking at the dark wavy hair, blue eyes, sharp nose and pouty lips, I mentally sighed at the endeavor of finding a new appearance and life; my adversaries had probably already found my apartment and where rifling through my possessions at that moment. A pity. I had taken the time and pay as a waitress to acquire everything that I owed there, it appeared that I would have to replace my possessions as well as relocate.
"Please," the rest of my thoughts were interrupted by the high pitched voice of the woman at my feet, "I-I told you everything I know."
I cocked my head to the side when her lips began to tremble and her brown eyes brighten at a thought. Ah. She has a son. "Please. I-I-I have a son. Please let me go. He cannot live without me."
"Your statement is inaccurate," I replied coolly. "You are married to Robert Lee Quincy. Your son, Jacob Adam Quincy, would be able to survive without you."
Crying out the woman or Debra Ann Quincy, as she is named buried her head in her hands and continued to wail, "Please!"
I mentally calculated that I had 2.8 minutes before our appearances would be noted as absent from the occupants in the dining area. My eyes flashed once I acquired my targets and their locations and positions in the lobby, dining area and hallways. There were ten targets in the lobby, thirteen in dining and eight more patrolling the hallways of the museum.
70.3% rate of success, escape
29.7% chance of failure, capture
34.2% rate of personal injury, 3.6% of injuries being fatal
11.5% of innocent casualties (other event attendants)
All the information that I had acquired from Debra strengthened my odds of escaping yet she did not hold a military rank that would give me the accurate amount of data. She had been unable to tell me if there were anymore circumstances to this trap that would provide more foresight into what was planned. It was an unfortunate that I had interrogated her instead of someone that held a higher rank yet she was the one most likely to give me information without resistance; any target other than her would be missed from the ballroom in a shorter amount of time and prove to be more difficult to question.
"Debra," she eyed me cautious as I addressed her, "you will use the window that is directly behind me and climb through it. Be careful, you have a high risk of sustaining a sprained ankle from the fall. Once outside, you will use your cell phone to call the police and report that you are at the Gotham museum where the Wayne Scholarship Foundation event is being held. Report that multiple gunshots have occurred."
As I looked at her, I entered her mind and imprinted the instructions; she would not forget or refuse. "Once you have accomplished everything, you will return home to your husband, Robert and son, Jacob. From there, you will gather all your possessions and relocate to another residence with your family. At this new residence, you will find another job that will not require me to threaten your life again. Are my instructions unclear?"
Debra quickly jumped to her feet; she shook her head, "N-n-n-no!"
Relief and hope washed over her mind as she raced over to the window, careful to side step me on her way. Before she could reach the window, I made sure to in part a warning that I was not afraid to fulfill.
"If you have failed to listen to my instructions, I will visit your current residence. Your husband and son will be held accountable for your failure."
With my verbal threat, mental images were sent to Debra of her son and husband suffering for her disobedience. Gasping, Debra nodded her head and disappeared from my sight as she exited through the window. I took a moment to examine my reflection with my unbound dark wavy hair at my shoulders and the lovely dress that I had acquired for the occasion. Disappointment settled in my chest as I recalled my earlier interest and happiness at being asked to attend this event. It would appear that I would not be able to enjoy the rest of the evening, this event was supposed to be for my and various other individuals' honor of winning scholarships through the Wayne Foundation. Not only would I have to relocate to another city, I would also have to acquire a new university since The University of Gotham was now not an option. Perhaps I could get another scholarship through another university; I pondered this as I shifted into another outfit that would be more appropriate for my current situation.
Instead of the floor length gown, a black jumpsuit encompassed my body that would allow for more movement and flexibility; my unbound hair was also shifted away from my shoulders and pulled back so it would not hinder my actions. Closing my eyes, I settled back into old instincts and training, preparing my body and mind for the bloodshed that would ensue. I had 10.2 seconds left before the first target burst through the bathroom door and confronted me and in four moves, he would be disarmed. It would take one of those four moves to kill him. When the door burst open and revealed my first target, I lunged.
Thirty more to go…