To bad there's probably the girls on sight, I can't go full out on weapons. First up was my old buddy, the M-4. There's no need for stealth, so I took the .50 Desert Eagle instead of the silenced M-1911. Flash-bangs, C-4, and a kukri went under my trenchcoat. I drove to Pier 17. The two dock workers leaning against a wall in the parking lot smoking didn't look happy to see me. As I stepped out of my car, they started to draw. I was faster. I drew both pistols and fired one round from each. Both dropped. Well, now they know I'm here. Good, now the party can start. I holstered my pistols and readied my rifle just as another target came running through the door, waving a shotgun. He got hit five or six times, it was hard to tell, after the third shot he kinda just disintegrated. A black van careened out of the loading dock just as I crossed through the doorway. I ran back to my car and grabbed the specialized pistol from under my seat. The van was moving way to fast, by the time I'd get my car started and onto the street it would be gone. I took aim with the single-shot pistol and fired. A direct hit. I let them drive away. The homing beacon on their vehicle would allow me to hunt them down at my leisure. I figured by now they'd be waiting for me inside, so a flash-bang went in before I did. About a dozen thugs, all disoriented and blinded were in the first room. I cut them down with the 'Eagles, their blood doing an almost decent job of brightening up the decor. I reloaded my pistols as I noticed one was still alive.
"M-m-mercy! Please!" he stuttered, blood dripping from his mouth.
"Ask God next time." I told him as I shot him between the eyes.
I walked out into the main storage area. Connexes everywhere. I heard talking from the far corner.
"Don't worry, it'll be quick, girlie. Heh-heh"
Screaming.
I get ready to turn the corner. The screaming stops. I'm too late. I turn the corner, rifle up. Two thugs, a punk with a straight-razor, and a thirteen year-old girl with no pants and a Columbian neck-tie. 0.6 seconds and three head-shots later I had moved on. I walk up the stairs to the catwalk and scan the ground floor. Clear. There's movement from the foreman's office. I turn the handle. Locked.
"Who's there?" he yells.
"Mary Kay cosmetics." I said as I kicked in the door.
He stood behind the desk. I hit him with atleast four rounds, but he didn't go down. Body armour, finally a challenge. I back out the door.
'Too easy.' I thought.
I armed a flash-bang and rolled it through the doorway, the room flashed and filled with a tremendous noise. I came around the corner, the armoured thug was lying on his ass, dazed to the point of inaction. I calmly walked up and took his rifle from him. I picked him up and hung him several inches of the ground from a sturdy hook attached directly to the building's frame.
"Where to you get the girls?" I asked him once he was lucid again.
He just spit on me. I seem to get that reaction alot. I picked-up a smoldering cigarette from an ashtray attached to the wall and stuck it through his eyeball.
"Sure you don't wanna tell me?" I asked as I reached for another cigarette.
"Wait, wait! A black van! It-it drops them off! I buy them from him! They pick them up from the street! That's all I know"
"Thanks." and then I snapped his neck.
I left the office in time to see a man emerge from a connex, draw a pistol and run for the door. My 5.56 round blew his intestines out his front, causing him to trip over his own guts. I shot him once more to make sure the job was done and walked to the connex. A dozen girls, aged twelve to fifteen, gagged and tied to chairs. I untie them. I turned to tell them to run, but they were already gone. I retrieved a can of white spray paint from my trunk and painted on the front door what had become generally accepted as my calling card. The white skull I wear. Then I broke a window with a brick, setting off the burgular alarm. Tonight's been quick so far, I should be able to refit quick and trail the black van. I think back to the night's body count as I get into my car and turn the key. No matter how many dirtbags I kill, there will always be more. Atleast I can be a deterrent.
"M-m-mercy! Please!" he stuttered, blood dripping from his mouth.
"Ask God next time." I told him as I shot him between the eyes.
I walked out into the main storage area. Connexes everywhere. I heard talking from the far corner.
"Don't worry, it'll be quick, girlie. Heh-heh"
Screaming.
I get ready to turn the corner. The screaming stops. I'm too late. I turn the corner, rifle up. Two thugs, a punk with a straight-razor, and a thirteen year-old girl with no pants and a Columbian neck-tie. 0.6 seconds and three head-shots later I had moved on. I walk up the stairs to the catwalk and scan the ground floor. Clear. There's movement from the foreman's office. I turn the handle. Locked.
"Who's there?" he yells.
"Mary Kay cosmetics." I said as I kicked in the door.
He stood behind the desk. I hit him with atleast four rounds, but he didn't go down. Body armour, finally a challenge. I back out the door.
'Too easy.' I thought.
I armed a flash-bang and rolled it through the doorway, the room flashed and filled with a tremendous noise. I came around the corner, the armoured thug was lying on his ass, dazed to the point of inaction. I calmly walked up and took his rifle from him. I picked him up and hung him several inches of the ground from a sturdy hook attached directly to the building's frame.
"Where to you get the girls?" I asked him once he was lucid again.
He just spit on me. I seem to get that reaction alot. I picked-up a smoldering cigarette from an ashtray attached to the wall and stuck it through his eyeball.
"Sure you don't wanna tell me?" I asked as I reached for another cigarette.
"Wait, wait! A black van! It-it drops them off! I buy them from him! They pick them up from the street! That's all I know"
"Thanks." and then I snapped his neck.
I left the office in time to see a man emerge from a connex, draw a pistol and run for the door. My 5.56 round blew his intestines out his front, causing him to trip over his own guts. I shot him once more to make sure the job was done and walked to the connex. A dozen girls, aged twelve to fifteen, gagged and tied to chairs. I untie them. I turned to tell them to run, but they were already gone. I retrieved a can of white spray paint from my trunk and painted on the front door what had become generally accepted as my calling card. The white skull I wear. Then I broke a window with a brick, setting off the burgular alarm. Tonight's been quick so far, I should be able to refit quick and trail the black van. I think back to the night's body count as I get into my car and turn the key. No matter how many dirtbags I kill, there will always be more. Atleast I can be a deterrent.