Case 1: Sniper, Part 2
Disclaimer: Same as before. Thank you NoLeafClover and C.J. Sandiego, if you could encourage other readers towards this fic, that'd be great. I have no racist leanings at all, just so you know, my sniper villain's the racist.
NoLeafClover- I'm a student at a military school, I hope to one day join the US Marines and serve an exchange tour with the British Royal Marines, that's why I know so much about the military.
C.J. Sandiego - Don't worry, the sparring match is coming up. And this story is gonna have more of them, because Hal and Ivy will be working together for four years.
~ ~ ~ ~
7 May 2000: Hal had just finished his morning run and shower before he was set to stop for a breakfast burrito and morning coffee cup. He'd acquired a taste for the stuff when on assignment in America two years before. He threw on a fresh collared shirt with a black Phil Collins concert t-shirt underneath and another pair of jeans before he stepped out the door, locked it and took to his car.
He had managed to be late for roll call. "Wanker." Hal groaned.
"Ivy?" asked Chief Inspector Grant Wells, a veteran ACME detective with nearly forty years experience, "Where's your partner?"
"He's right there Chief," Ivy said, giving him a mock glare as he stepped out of the elevator.
"Did they teach you promptness in the Royal Marines?" Wells replied, he was a stickler for detail and timeliness.
"Yes they did. Sorry, traffic got backed up around Golden Gate Park." Hal replied.
"Don't let it happen again." Wells replied, with a severe expression.
Ivy walked into her office, across the hall from the one that was labeled Harold Olden in the senior detective's wing. Hal followed her in as she said, "Way to be on time Limey."
The enigmatic half smile she gave him was a green light that it was safe to joke around, "I try Ninja Girl, I try." Hal replied, grinning as he held his coffee cup in his hand.
"If you want a REAL strong cup of coffee, follow me." Ivy said, leading him down the hall.
"This is the bullpen," Ivy said, showing a small kitchenette where two pots of coffee was brewing in the corner. A young man wearing a Gaucho getup was sitting with his feet propped up on a table, "You can come in here for a snack from the fridge, nuke something in the microwave, or get a cup of coffee."
"Don't drink from the pot on the left unless you want to go loco mi amigo." The gaucho said.
"Really mate." Hal said, "Why is that?"
"That's my coffee pot Armando, so you'd best be careful." Ivy replied.
"She'll brew that stuff so strong that steel would melt as well as your internal organs." Armando warned.
"Couldn't be worse than Digger's excuse for tea." Hal replied, "Sorry, Digger was a mate of mine back when I was a boy soldier with the Royal Marines. We split up when I ran Selection for the SAS and Digger deployed to the Gulf War with my original battalion. I've known him my entire time in the service, from my sixteenth birthday to now, twelve years."
"So what was so bad about his tea?" Armando asked.
"I was just getting there." Hal replied, "When he finished with the Gulf, he ran Selection, got into the SAS, into my G Squadron and wound up in Mountain Troop as a mountaineering specialist, and when his turn to brew the tea in the common room came up, we all brewed our own. It was way too strong, it could keep a bloke awake for a month and wake a corpse to boot we always said."
"Yep, Ivy's will do that too." Armando replied. Ivy shot him a glare, a 'friendly joking' glare, but a glare nonetheless.
"Right. I'll have some of that." Hal replied and Ivy poured him a cup. Hal took a sip and immediately ran for the sugar jar and put five teaspoons into it, "Wanker! I ought to lock you up! This stuff should have a warning label, never drink black!!!"
Ivy casually sipped a cup of black coffee, "I have no problems with it." Ivy replied.
"Your stomach's dying, I just know you're gonna get a heart attack by your next birthday." Hal replied.
"You're not funny you stinker." Ivy said, punching him lightly in the arm, "See you at four o'clock in the gym."
Ivy sauntered out of the bullpen. "What's at four o'clock?" Armando said.
"Ivy and I are sparring together." Hal replied.
"I hope you have insurance." Armando grumbled.
"I'll be fine. I'm sure I can handle her." Hal replied.
Ivy poked her head in, "You'll eat those words this afternoon, I promise you that my English friend."
"For dinner or desert?" Hal asked.
"Let's see how far SAS hand to hand is gonna get you." Ivy said grinning.
~ ~ ~ ~
The magnification of the SVD's standard PSO-1 telescopic sight was not sufficient for the sniper's purposes. So that's why he bolted the 9x telescopic sight, specially imported from Switzerland, to the top of the receiver. The rifle was broken down and carried in a briefcase with his laptop computer. He had plugged it into a computer terminal at the public library and sent yet another taunting e-mail out to a certain SAS operative working for ACME. He was going to go hunting today as he studied a range card, a small sketch of the area he planned to hide in and shoot from. He would fire into Golden Gate Park next, hitting close to home for his former mentor.
He didn't really want to kill or torment his old mentor in particular, he just happened to be there. His master plan would be put into effect soon and his intended target, a traitor to all the loyal men of his unit that shed their blood for him would die on his planned visit to San Francisco next week. He would see that arrogant politician who had come to power on the blood of the men of his unit, all loyal South Africans the lot of them, all martyred for the inferior races that populated the nation he resided. A cause that his traitorous quarry thought more important than the lives of not only his unit members, but his family as well. He would reap his vengeance after six years of waiting.
~ ~ ~ ~
"Christopher Osborne Powers, South Africa's Minister of Defense, will be visiting San Francisco next week. The forty-nine year old Cape Town native changed from one of the most ardent supporters of apartheid to one of its most ardent opponents after witnessing the Johannesburg Race Riots of 1994." The ZNN announcer said into the bullpen.
"Zack, remember we have flower arrangements to look at this afternoon." Tatiana said as she took a seat beside her fiancé.
"I know honey." Zack said, the date was set in September, on the 11th of that month. Tatiana had picked it because it was her birthday and Zack agreed to it.
"I also have us scheduled to attend pre-nuptial classes with the priest that evening after dinner." Tatiana said.
"Boy Zack, she's running your life, isn't she mate." Hal replied.
"She's worth it Hal, she's well worth it." Zack replied, "Armando, I guess you're planning the bachelor party with Josha."
"Bloody hell mate, I'll jump in on that too." Hal replied.
"And I'll stand by to bail you idiots out of jail." Ivy replied jokingly.
"Ivy, Hal," said Chief Inspector Wells, "I'm assigning you two to the security detail for Mr. Powers."
"Chief, we've still got the sniper case to wrap up." Ivy protested.
"I'm assigning Armando and Maria to cover you on that. You two have exactly one week to start turning over your evidence and findings so far." Chief Wells replied.
~ ~ ~ ~
The target was sitting at a concrete table with a lady friend. He was having fun, smiling and laughing with a big goofy grin on his face. He was happy as a lark. The sniper watched him through his telescopic sights remembered a time when he had been happy like that. But that traitor had robbed him of it, and this was just one more way to strike back at the traitor.
The city's people were very much in dread of his crosshairs, for when he fired he never, ever missed. When he dropped the hammer someone would be dead, and rightly so. He had lost everything he loved and valued because someone thought that those damnable blacks were more important than the lives of true South African patriots. Because he chose to negotiate with the leader of the Johannesburg riots instead of killing the rioters leader outright the sniper's family had died. He had his crosshairs on the negro bastard who knew not his place in society but he was ordered not to fire and because of that, the rioters destroyed his home. Now he would exact his vengeance upon the man responsible for this screw up that those slick media men turned into his greatest triumph.
He knew that this victim was merely fodder, practice for the ultimate killing he would do. He felt that intoxicatingly godlike power he wielded and this next target would force the police to stretch their forces thin. For this was the son of Commissioner Powers, Christopher. The name was similar enough to his intended victim to make him desire making another kill to stoke the fire and keep the sword which he would use to cull his hated target from this earth sharp.
"Stay there, stay there. Perfect." The sniper said to himself as he hid in the crown of a bushy elm tree.
He targeted the twenty-two year old college kid's forehead and breathing slowly squeezed the trigger. The thump sounded again, the death knell for his intended target, the best sound on the earth for the sniper. He watched as a terrified girlfriend saw her beau lying in a puddle of his own blood. They were killers, he was the merely their victim striking back at the world and one man in particular in vengeance.
~ ~ ~ ~
"Ready. Go!"
At this, Ivy and Hal circled each other warily, both had pads to prevent injury, and both were agreeing to not use any lethal moves they might have learned. Hal struck first, throwing a roundhouse kick to Ivy's side. She managed to throw one kick that blocked the first. A flurry of hand movements followed as they tried to strike and counter each other simultaneously.
"Not bad for Brit." Ivy said.
"I'm holding back Ninja Girl." Hal replied, with a grin.
"Show me what you've got marine." Ivy replied.
"You asked. You got it." Hal replied as Ivy sprang towards him with an open handed strike. Hal caught her forearm and flung her over his shoulder, not knowing Ivy had planned this one.
She landed sprightly on her feet and knowing Hal was slightly off balance she grabbed his arm on the way down and threw him to the ground on his back. Dazed slightly he stood back up faster than she expected and faced her. The two bowed to each other and assumed practice stances again.
Hal, being slightly taller, threw several round house kicks to keep Ivy on the outside. Ivy managed to dodge most of them but caught one in the stomach that sent her back a few steps. "Not bad, but your missing one thing."
Ivy half pivoted, getting inside easily and threw a short kick to the back of Hal's left knee and sent him to the ground. Within another flurry of hand movements Hal had managed to get Ivy on her back and pinned her by the stomach with his right knee, his right hand gripping her other hand. Ivy tapped the ground with her right hand, signaling that the point had gone to Hal. Both were now two for two in the score, even with each other with four minutes remaining.
"Ivy, Hal! Sorry to interrupt this fight, but there's been another murder and Commissioner Powers is livid." Wells said into the gym.
"We'll be right there Chief." Hal replied, "Well sorry to break this one up Ninja Girl, but we'll go finish it later."
'I hope a lot later, my shoulder's aching like hell after that last throw.' Hal thought.
~ ~ ~ ~
TBC
Disclaimer: Same as before. Thank you NoLeafClover and C.J. Sandiego, if you could encourage other readers towards this fic, that'd be great. I have no racist leanings at all, just so you know, my sniper villain's the racist.
NoLeafClover- I'm a student at a military school, I hope to one day join the US Marines and serve an exchange tour with the British Royal Marines, that's why I know so much about the military.
C.J. Sandiego - Don't worry, the sparring match is coming up. And this story is gonna have more of them, because Hal and Ivy will be working together for four years.
~ ~ ~ ~
7 May 2000: Hal had just finished his morning run and shower before he was set to stop for a breakfast burrito and morning coffee cup. He'd acquired a taste for the stuff when on assignment in America two years before. He threw on a fresh collared shirt with a black Phil Collins concert t-shirt underneath and another pair of jeans before he stepped out the door, locked it and took to his car.
He had managed to be late for roll call. "Wanker." Hal groaned.
"Ivy?" asked Chief Inspector Grant Wells, a veteran ACME detective with nearly forty years experience, "Where's your partner?"
"He's right there Chief," Ivy said, giving him a mock glare as he stepped out of the elevator.
"Did they teach you promptness in the Royal Marines?" Wells replied, he was a stickler for detail and timeliness.
"Yes they did. Sorry, traffic got backed up around Golden Gate Park." Hal replied.
"Don't let it happen again." Wells replied, with a severe expression.
Ivy walked into her office, across the hall from the one that was labeled Harold Olden in the senior detective's wing. Hal followed her in as she said, "Way to be on time Limey."
The enigmatic half smile she gave him was a green light that it was safe to joke around, "I try Ninja Girl, I try." Hal replied, grinning as he held his coffee cup in his hand.
"If you want a REAL strong cup of coffee, follow me." Ivy said, leading him down the hall.
"This is the bullpen," Ivy said, showing a small kitchenette where two pots of coffee was brewing in the corner. A young man wearing a Gaucho getup was sitting with his feet propped up on a table, "You can come in here for a snack from the fridge, nuke something in the microwave, or get a cup of coffee."
"Don't drink from the pot on the left unless you want to go loco mi amigo." The gaucho said.
"Really mate." Hal said, "Why is that?"
"That's my coffee pot Armando, so you'd best be careful." Ivy replied.
"She'll brew that stuff so strong that steel would melt as well as your internal organs." Armando warned.
"Couldn't be worse than Digger's excuse for tea." Hal replied, "Sorry, Digger was a mate of mine back when I was a boy soldier with the Royal Marines. We split up when I ran Selection for the SAS and Digger deployed to the Gulf War with my original battalion. I've known him my entire time in the service, from my sixteenth birthday to now, twelve years."
"So what was so bad about his tea?" Armando asked.
"I was just getting there." Hal replied, "When he finished with the Gulf, he ran Selection, got into the SAS, into my G Squadron and wound up in Mountain Troop as a mountaineering specialist, and when his turn to brew the tea in the common room came up, we all brewed our own. It was way too strong, it could keep a bloke awake for a month and wake a corpse to boot we always said."
"Yep, Ivy's will do that too." Armando replied. Ivy shot him a glare, a 'friendly joking' glare, but a glare nonetheless.
"Right. I'll have some of that." Hal replied and Ivy poured him a cup. Hal took a sip and immediately ran for the sugar jar and put five teaspoons into it, "Wanker! I ought to lock you up! This stuff should have a warning label, never drink black!!!"
Ivy casually sipped a cup of black coffee, "I have no problems with it." Ivy replied.
"Your stomach's dying, I just know you're gonna get a heart attack by your next birthday." Hal replied.
"You're not funny you stinker." Ivy said, punching him lightly in the arm, "See you at four o'clock in the gym."
Ivy sauntered out of the bullpen. "What's at four o'clock?" Armando said.
"Ivy and I are sparring together." Hal replied.
"I hope you have insurance." Armando grumbled.
"I'll be fine. I'm sure I can handle her." Hal replied.
Ivy poked her head in, "You'll eat those words this afternoon, I promise you that my English friend."
"For dinner or desert?" Hal asked.
"Let's see how far SAS hand to hand is gonna get you." Ivy said grinning.
~ ~ ~ ~
The magnification of the SVD's standard PSO-1 telescopic sight was not sufficient for the sniper's purposes. So that's why he bolted the 9x telescopic sight, specially imported from Switzerland, to the top of the receiver. The rifle was broken down and carried in a briefcase with his laptop computer. He had plugged it into a computer terminal at the public library and sent yet another taunting e-mail out to a certain SAS operative working for ACME. He was going to go hunting today as he studied a range card, a small sketch of the area he planned to hide in and shoot from. He would fire into Golden Gate Park next, hitting close to home for his former mentor.
He didn't really want to kill or torment his old mentor in particular, he just happened to be there. His master plan would be put into effect soon and his intended target, a traitor to all the loyal men of his unit that shed their blood for him would die on his planned visit to San Francisco next week. He would see that arrogant politician who had come to power on the blood of the men of his unit, all loyal South Africans the lot of them, all martyred for the inferior races that populated the nation he resided. A cause that his traitorous quarry thought more important than the lives of not only his unit members, but his family as well. He would reap his vengeance after six years of waiting.
~ ~ ~ ~
"Christopher Osborne Powers, South Africa's Minister of Defense, will be visiting San Francisco next week. The forty-nine year old Cape Town native changed from one of the most ardent supporters of apartheid to one of its most ardent opponents after witnessing the Johannesburg Race Riots of 1994." The ZNN announcer said into the bullpen.
"Zack, remember we have flower arrangements to look at this afternoon." Tatiana said as she took a seat beside her fiancé.
"I know honey." Zack said, the date was set in September, on the 11th of that month. Tatiana had picked it because it was her birthday and Zack agreed to it.
"I also have us scheduled to attend pre-nuptial classes with the priest that evening after dinner." Tatiana said.
"Boy Zack, she's running your life, isn't she mate." Hal replied.
"She's worth it Hal, she's well worth it." Zack replied, "Armando, I guess you're planning the bachelor party with Josha."
"Bloody hell mate, I'll jump in on that too." Hal replied.
"And I'll stand by to bail you idiots out of jail." Ivy replied jokingly.
"Ivy, Hal," said Chief Inspector Wells, "I'm assigning you two to the security detail for Mr. Powers."
"Chief, we've still got the sniper case to wrap up." Ivy protested.
"I'm assigning Armando and Maria to cover you on that. You two have exactly one week to start turning over your evidence and findings so far." Chief Wells replied.
~ ~ ~ ~
The target was sitting at a concrete table with a lady friend. He was having fun, smiling and laughing with a big goofy grin on his face. He was happy as a lark. The sniper watched him through his telescopic sights remembered a time when he had been happy like that. But that traitor had robbed him of it, and this was just one more way to strike back at the traitor.
The city's people were very much in dread of his crosshairs, for when he fired he never, ever missed. When he dropped the hammer someone would be dead, and rightly so. He had lost everything he loved and valued because someone thought that those damnable blacks were more important than the lives of true South African patriots. Because he chose to negotiate with the leader of the Johannesburg riots instead of killing the rioters leader outright the sniper's family had died. He had his crosshairs on the negro bastard who knew not his place in society but he was ordered not to fire and because of that, the rioters destroyed his home. Now he would exact his vengeance upon the man responsible for this screw up that those slick media men turned into his greatest triumph.
He knew that this victim was merely fodder, practice for the ultimate killing he would do. He felt that intoxicatingly godlike power he wielded and this next target would force the police to stretch their forces thin. For this was the son of Commissioner Powers, Christopher. The name was similar enough to his intended victim to make him desire making another kill to stoke the fire and keep the sword which he would use to cull his hated target from this earth sharp.
"Stay there, stay there. Perfect." The sniper said to himself as he hid in the crown of a bushy elm tree.
He targeted the twenty-two year old college kid's forehead and breathing slowly squeezed the trigger. The thump sounded again, the death knell for his intended target, the best sound on the earth for the sniper. He watched as a terrified girlfriend saw her beau lying in a puddle of his own blood. They were killers, he was the merely their victim striking back at the world and one man in particular in vengeance.
~ ~ ~ ~
"Ready. Go!"
At this, Ivy and Hal circled each other warily, both had pads to prevent injury, and both were agreeing to not use any lethal moves they might have learned. Hal struck first, throwing a roundhouse kick to Ivy's side. She managed to throw one kick that blocked the first. A flurry of hand movements followed as they tried to strike and counter each other simultaneously.
"Not bad for Brit." Ivy said.
"I'm holding back Ninja Girl." Hal replied, with a grin.
"Show me what you've got marine." Ivy replied.
"You asked. You got it." Hal replied as Ivy sprang towards him with an open handed strike. Hal caught her forearm and flung her over his shoulder, not knowing Ivy had planned this one.
She landed sprightly on her feet and knowing Hal was slightly off balance she grabbed his arm on the way down and threw him to the ground on his back. Dazed slightly he stood back up faster than she expected and faced her. The two bowed to each other and assumed practice stances again.
Hal, being slightly taller, threw several round house kicks to keep Ivy on the outside. Ivy managed to dodge most of them but caught one in the stomach that sent her back a few steps. "Not bad, but your missing one thing."
Ivy half pivoted, getting inside easily and threw a short kick to the back of Hal's left knee and sent him to the ground. Within another flurry of hand movements Hal had managed to get Ivy on her back and pinned her by the stomach with his right knee, his right hand gripping her other hand. Ivy tapped the ground with her right hand, signaling that the point had gone to Hal. Both were now two for two in the score, even with each other with four minutes remaining.
"Ivy, Hal! Sorry to interrupt this fight, but there's been another murder and Commissioner Powers is livid." Wells said into the gym.
"We'll be right there Chief." Hal replied, "Well sorry to break this one up Ninja Girl, but we'll go finish it later."
'I hope a lot later, my shoulder's aching like hell after that last throw.' Hal thought.
~ ~ ~ ~
TBC