Caitlyn was never fond of spiders.
And yet she stand, gazing at an eight-legged creature hanging from a wooden window frame. The tiny arachnid had a wakening red hourglass on its back: the kind she dreaded the most. The last contact she had ever made was these web-weavers was on a camping trip in high school, where she was told by her instructors that these horrid beings would not attack if left alone. She was left alone in the hospital for the rest of the week.
A cool gust of northern wind made no impact on the widow as it flew peacefully with the flow. The thin line of silk reflected from lights afar was the only thing that kept it in its place; which was a good thing. Caitlyn can only feel shivers down her back imagining casual night breeze with an additional flying spider recipe.
"All positions copy, target in place, full alert," her superior's voice came into line from her earphones.
"Copy that," Caitlyn answered, loading her PIT-027. This 1.27 mm sniper rifle is light for its length, equipped with tri-optical lens and infrared sensor; the only model of its type and one of the most advanced weaponries on the planet.
An exquisite firearm is only a piece of metal if not in the hands of a skilled marksman; luckily its owner is everything beyond "skilled". Her accuracy has longed being a legend back at the academy during her training years. It was said if bullets can travel faster than light, the entire galaxy would be in range of her snipe. In a battle during the Omnic Wars, she single-handedly took down three hundred androids with only two hundred causal bullets; what she achieved still remains a mystery throughout the UN. She was only fourteen back then and now Caitlyn only smiles to her glorious standings. The weapon in her hand is beyond all recognition.
Through her scope, she made a short glimpse at their target: a robotic cult leader called Mondatta. The name gradually made way into mainstream media the previous year, after a group of Omnics emerged from the Himalayas promoting "peace between humans and robots". UN has even went to announce them as legitimate "living-beings" and should be treated and protected like humans. Caitlyn would roll her eyes every time she saw them on the news. Every bit of their "peace and prosperity" theory is simply a mouth full of lies and nonsense. The public nowadays clearly has forgotten the pain and suffering these heart-less killers has brought onto the human civilization a decade back.
"Unit 33, do you copy?" the commander's voice was back on line. Caitlyn frowned, shifting the vision to a brick building two hundred meters north-east of her position. The private's figure was nowhere in sight: either he is inside the building or he is dead. The wind blew harder, bringing in a screen of casual London fog. The spider started dangling back and fourth, spitting out threads and attaching them one by one.
"Commander, Unit 29 did not return from his patrol."
"HQ, Unit 12 did not respond to roll call."
"North-west has gone dark."
Caitlyn bit her lips, brushing back her dark-brown hair. Through every heartbeat she felt an enemy is approaching, like a spider crawling from it's lair, yet she has no idea if she and her fellow comrades were already in its web. The speech going on below was still undisturbed but she knew from her instincts that things were going to escalate pretty soon.
"ADC, mute your comms and activate your tracker," an order directly for her. Caitlyn immediately pushed a button on the side of her helmet, revealing a GPS locater of all UN soldiers stationed at King's Row. Besides the commando HQ, the ADC was the only personal that had this device in case of a breakthrough. Caitlyn scanned through all positions with a heavy heart. All seventeen coordinates at the northern corner were no longer flashing, in other words, no signs of living activity. Seventeen lives in less than five minutes: a murderous monster indeed.
"HQ, all seventeen units down, repeat, all seventeen units down," Caitlyn resumed her speaker and returning to her scope.
"Copy that ADC, all remaining units prepare for combat and alert the British ar—" the radio came to a sudden stop, clearly been snapped off. Caitlyn released her safe-lock, her finger on the trigger. She activated her infrared laser aimer, scanning slowly and carefully through every object in her radius. A single misjudgement and carelessness will make her the next prey.
A ring of silent gunshots sprang from above the roof. Though the sound was muffled by vibrators, it was still enough to be captured by Caitlyn's ears. Reloading her gun with the lethal T-94 "anti-armour" bullet, she rolled to side and moved cautiously upstairs. The spider has already competed its web and sat patiently in waiting for its dinner.
The infrared scope gave her two figures lying on the ground: her two flank covers Unit 2 and Unit 3. Drawing a deep breath and her eyes focused to all potential red dots in her sight. The door of the roof was half-opened and she cursed at the slight squeaking sounds that it made when she pushed it outwards. She turned one hundred and eight degrees hoping to find something to shoot at, but she found nothing. Examining the two lifeless bodies, she gasped at the wounds staining with blood on their blue UN helmet; it was gunshot shot square through their heads. And not just any bullet, but the special "funnelling-type" with it's symbolic miniature hole on its victims. Caitlyn felt her blood running cold. It is the very type of bullet in her magazine at this very moment, and her gun was supposed to be the only weapon that can fire this kind of bullet.
"So, you are the ADC they were all talking about," a low female voice with a heavy English accent came to line on the comm, "Now I see you, I can only say you are either strong….or just a foolish little fly."
"Still better than a murderer," Caitlyn snared with anger. She knew her opponent has already have her under the scope and simply just mocking her. The question is, where and how. Why didn't her eight hundred metre infrared vision locate her target. Why did the enemy sniper also had access to her bullets. Why haven't she kill her already. Bombarded with so many questions, Caitlyn felt an unknown fear creeping onto her that she never encountered before.
"Such a shame those poor souls had such faith in you, and yet you stepped right into my trap,"her voice seemed so cold and emotionless, "the flies should stay at home during this time of the year."
Seconds seemed like hours and every moment Caitlyn had to double-check if she was alive. If only she knew the coordinates of her opponent…Then, it happened. A large "dong" sound from afar as the clock struck nine. The Big Ben.
"Ohhh, times up darling," the comms on the other end also echoed with the sound of the London Clock. UN speakers are able to capture every puny sound accurately from its sound source.
"You talk too much," Caitlyn grinned. She knew exactly where her enemy is, "wanna see a hat trick?"
Dodging sideways, she felt a thin whistle through the air and a sharp scraping of metal on her helmet. The bullet shaved against the curve on the edge of the gear, creating a perfect angle for the funnel to be diverted sideways without "digging" a hole through her head. Landing hard on her elbows, she wrenched her bodice backwards and returned a shot to her stalker. She was still sliding on her sides when she was sure her bullet reached its destination. Using the last of the momentum, she reloaded her magazine with an explosive charge. The scouting bullet fired earlier revealed a shadow darting through the western condos three hundred meters away.
"Meet the long shot, biatch," Caitlyn opened her tri-optical scope, pulling the trigger with less than a second of aiming.
The bullet travelled in a curve, bursting with its target and releasing a huge explosion. The comms on the other end was instantly jammed with airy noises. Caitlyn crawled back to the door and limped down the staircase. Her ankle was twisted due to her sudden movement and reaction. A future warmup before a mission should be considered, she said to herself. Resting against a swivel chair, she closed her eyes and attempted to recall everything that has happened. Just as she was examining her wound, the jammed comm on her headphones suddenly went silent. Caitlyn froze in her spot, her eyes and mouth widened. The comm was not destroyed…It was back in operation.
A moth flew straight into the web, and the spider sprang immediately onto its helpless prey. Watching the insect being wrapped and devoured, Caitlyn could feel her own pulse beating out of her chest. Her blood turned to ice as that nightmarish voice spat out the words with absolute rage and cruelty.
"Personne n'échappe à mon regard."