'His eyes were heavy
He carried a card
One couple question
The other discharged'
(Bauhaus)
The ebony hedgehog teleported to a remote G.U.N. air base in the middle of the atlantic ocean. The facility, codename 'White Hydra', harbors a rather extensive communications and intelligence center. Almost nothing went around the world unchecked by G.U.N., and nothing checked by G.U.N. went unchecked by one of several 'Hydra' class communications facilities. Its main purpose is to direct all United Federation and G.U.N. operations within the Eastern Seaboard of the United States and Western Europe.
The base itself was rather insipid. Standard greyish walls, steel floors, and the monotonous appearance of the human staff occupying the bland facility. In the briefing room stood a single figure. It was a fairly short human next to a table as dull and gray as the rest of the base. He wore a standard solid black and green tunic with a matching beret like the rest of the Hydra's cadre.
"What's the situation, Captain?"
"Well, Shadow, the Commander called in less than ten minutes ago," started the composed Captain Vega.
The captain served as the intelligence liaison for most G.U.N. operations involving Agent Shadow. The only reason for a call like this would be an extreme emergency concerning the safety of highly sensitive operations or key personnel.
"This... assignment must be important to him because he told me to get every available agent on the case immediately," he continued as he placed a folder from behind his back onto the table and opened.
Obsidian eyelids closed on crimson irises as Shadow grew more impatient by the moment,"Are you going to keep wasting my time?"
"It just seems strange that he was so adamant about it,"replied Vega,"One of our section commanders in Europe has recently acquired a price on his head."
"Oh, really?" Shadow retorted seeming rather unconcerned with the matter,"Who and how much?"
Shadow the Hedgehog was nothing if not direct. Perhaps, at times, he was mysterious and reserved, but when it came down to business, he cut straight to the chase.
"Brigadier General Patterson of the six-eighteenth division."
"Never heard of him," was Shadow's response as he stared into Vega's eyes. The hedgehog didn't care for the captain, but he didn't hate him. He just wanted to get on with it.
"The Commander requests that you monitor Patterson. He's on personal leave in London, England, and as far as we know, he isn't aware that there's a price on his head for over two-hundred grand," explained Vega as he sorted through a few of the papers in his hands.
"Well it would be a good idea to alert the good General that someone wants him dead, wouldn't it?" The dark one's altruism was given with a heavy dose of soft sarcasm. The hedgehog felt that this assignment was going to be a babysitting job.
Vega sighed,"Amusing, Agent, but orders are to simply monitor him. If Patterson is warned of the situation, we have less of a chance to catch the assassins."
'Okay, so it's a novel babysitting job,' he thought with excess emphasis on the word 'novel'.
"What? I thought we wanted to protect the General, not catch a couple of murderers." Shadow was somewhat surprised at this revelation.
The captain shuffled through his papers again."Well, yes, that's what I told the Commander, but he seemed very adamant about finding out who has been killing G.U.N. personnel with such," he said as he handed Shadow a thin document with a photograph clipped to it,"efficiency."
The photograph showed an image of a man dressed in full black firing a weapon at a target beyond the camera. Unfortunately, the picture was too blurry to make out the person's face.
The anti-hero scanned the document before addressing Vega again.
"Interesting. Six G.U.N. officers dead in the last week and a half, and this is your best photograph?" asked the disappointed, but not surprised, hedgehog. On a good day, G.U.N.'s intelligence agencies could tell that the sky was blue.
"This person has been seen at or near each murder location. We have not been able to identify the man as of yet, though. Not exactly sloppy work on his part considering he either infiltrated or broke into some pretty well guarded military posts. Each of these officers was under heavy guard, but this one person, and reportedly a few others at times, proved to be too much for 'em."
Vega sighed again,"It's the same story each time," he went as he wiped his forehead with a piece of cloth,"No evidence, no survivors, just a blurry camera shot of a man in a black coat."
"You want me to monitor General Patterson without him being aware of my presence or the possible danger he is in so you can identify some hit-man that may not even show up?" this job made no sense to the dark one. Perhaps he could chalk it up to his sleep deprived state. He hadn't had a good night's rest in a week or so. Then again, he is the ultimate life form. Maybe this job was just plain silly.
"Let's put it this way,"sighed Vega,"He has beaten every other assassin out there to several high ranking officers surrounded by armed troops. If he isn't the first person to make an attempt on Patterson, then not only is he not coming, but anyone who does make an attempt on Pat's life wont do too well," he said as he handed Shadow a manilla folder.
"Why don't you send Rouge for this mission? It's basically a surveillance job."
"Normally, we would, but she is unavailable at this time."
"Where is she?"
"That's classified."
'Of course. Damned humans and their secrecy.'
The hedgehog casually flipped through the papers in the folder. Basic briefing, the names of officers in the region, details of authorized support and hardware, and so on.
"When do I leave?"
"Well, the plane for London leaves in an hour, but seeing as how you can just teleport wherever you want, you can leave as soon as you're ready."
It was midday. Despite the passerby's here and there, no one seemed to notice him walking around near the staircase in his black trench coat. That was a good thing since right underneath his coat he was hiding the AR-15. The rifle fit snugly against his left side. Stock against his pectoral with the attached suppressor barely sticking out from the bottom of the leather coat. He walked back and forth between rows of cars and the staircase.
After about an hour's wait, a man, black hair with blue eyes, came down the staircase with a wheeled case in tow. The luggage bag was big enough to fit a thin man into... or a petite young girl...
Black followed in the distance waiting for him to stop. The idiot was completely unaware of the killer on his trail.
Finally, he stopped in front of a green mini and placed his rolling luggage upright in front of the trunk. The man stepped in front of the hood of the car and knelt down. He was fiddling with something underneath the vehicle.
Black peeked from behind a concrete pillar in the parking structure.
'I see you.'
The black haired man got off his knees and dusted his pants off before opening the trunk. With some effort, he managed to fit the apparently heavy case into the back. He opened the right side door; the driver's seat.
It was time for Black to make his move. He drew his silenced rifle from his coat and brought it to his shoulder.
Needle point on the bastard.
Click.
A silent FWWP followed by the man falling to the floor. He screamed in agony as he laid on his back clutching his right knee.
"Alton Wright. Child pornographer and known human trafficker," stated the assassin,"You're always busy buying and selling children as sex slaves."
Alton laid his head back to catch a glimpse of his assailant.
"What do you want from me?" he asked Black who was just a few feet away from him and approaching steadily.
"Where are you meeting him today?"
"I don't know what you're talking about, ma-" Alton was cut off by a sharp kick to the side of his head.
"I'm not going to ask again. Where are you meeting the General today?" said Black impatiently.
Alton started moaning in pain. Another kick, softer than the last one, persuaded him to spit out the answer.
"Oh, the gun-guy-"
Black stomped on his hand to drive his point.
"Augh, god, alright! T-tonight. The Cast Iron Pub a couple blocks from here!"
"And the merchandise?"
"L-luggage... in the trunk," stumbled Alton as he began panting,"P-please, s-stop," pleaded the man as he put his other bloody hand on Black's foot. His cries fell on deaf ears. With one hand, Black rested the tip of the rifle on Alton Wright's forehead.
FWWP
Mr. Black had a look underneath the front of the car to see just what the now deceased Alton was doing earlier.
'As I thought.'
From just a quick glance underneath the car, he could see a bomb strapped to the bottom. You could say it was a type of security system; the bomb could be activated from remote or set to blow once the engine started.
Black hypothesized that if Alton ever got caught by the authorities, he had a way of destroying any incriminating evidence, along with any authorities unfortunate enough to be by the car, that may be near or aboard the vehicle.
He felt around the bottom and unhooked the sensitive device. After retrieving the bomb, he opened the trunk of the mini. In the back was the same luggage Alton carried down the stairs.
Slowly, Mr. Black unzipped the pain compartment of the case. Inside of the luggage was a young girl; she was no older than eight or nine.
"My, my... Mr. Wright, you are the worst kind of criminal," chuckled Black to the corpse with a devilish grin.
'I've got an idea.'
The girl's hands and ankles were bound and her mouth closed with duck tape. She struggled to get out of the case but no luck. Mr. Black simply unzipped another compartment in the case and slid the bomb inside. On the outside, the luggage was a dull brown, but the interior of the case was solid black.
The device was rectangular in shape and only as thick as a laptop. The thin black box had a single red light in the center. Black slid the device into the compartment before shutting the case again and zipping it up.
The little girl tried to scream through her gag. Black either could not hear her nor did he care about her pleas.
As luck would have it, a passerby in another mini slowly drove by. The assassin drew his rifle once again and shot. The driver of the other mini was now dead.
Black quickly disposed of the bodies by placing them both in the back of the second small car and parking it in a nearby empty parking space. He then proceeded to drive out in the now deceased Alton's vehicle to his apartment.
He only needed to stop for a few minutes. Just long enough to grab an extra set of clothing.
'Dress casual.'
Mr. Black unloaded his AR-15 rifle and placed it back in its black case inside the closet. He grabbed his clothing off the wrack and matching brown boots. He wore a green hood-less jacket with beige pants and the same tipless combat gloves he wore with his trench coat. He decided against bringing weapons save for a small razor blade concealed in the palm of his right glove. Underneath the jacket, as a little precaution, he wore a thin vest of Kevlar material over a black T-shirt. It all matched very well with his opaque glasses, dark brown hair and tanned skin.
He made his way back downstairs with four pistols and extra magazines wrapped in his black trench coat.
A short drive later, he parked in front of the dinky pub where he would meet the G.U.N. officer. The sun was still out. Black took the extra clothing and weaponry into an alleyway across from the pub and placed it gently on the side of a garbage can. All he had to do now was wait for the General to show up.
"This is a waste of time," Shadow said to himself. The black hedgehog had been following General Patterson all day long. So far, he had watched the human sleep in 'till nine, eat breakfast, go for a jog around the city, work out, eat lunch, watch television, eat a small dinner, and talk to some other humans. It was getting late, the sun was dying out, and nothing interesting had happened all day long.
Shadow was now following the General to a location unknown to him. While the General drove, Shadow ran and jumped from roof to roof. The General must have decided to take a drive through town for a good reason because he was heading through the shabbier parts of London. Eventually, they reached their destination; The Cast Iron Pub.
'Now what would the good officer want from a run down place like this?'
The thought was his own. He hadn't had any invading thoughts since last night aboard the ARK. He watched the scene below unfold from the roof of the pub. Patterson parked his vehicle, and another vehicle parked next to him. Four men stepped out of the second vehicle and stood behind the General. They walked up to a man in a green jacket leaning against a mini. He looked Arabic to Shadow.
The General and the green jacketed Arab started conversing. Being the ultimate life form certainly has its perks. From on top of the roof, out of sight from either the General or his lackeys, he could easily eavesdrop on their conversation.
"The money was transferred to the account as promised. I assume you were notified?"
The Arab looked at the General
"Hmm? Oh, yeah. I got the package in the trunk. How are we gonna do this?"
"My men would like to make sure the merchandise is... genuine... if you don't mind," said Patterson.
"Not at all," the arab immediately opened the back of the car. Shadow could see a large brown case in the back.
One of Patterson's associates, dressed in a brown sweater and denim jeans, opened the case and felt for the contents inside. The dark one though he could see a human knee sticking out from the wheeled luggage.
'What are you up to?'
The associate closed the case again and took it out of the trunk.
"We'll take it from here. Pleasure doing business with you, sir," said the man in the sweater to the Arab.
"Hey, General, how about a drink before you go? No sense in coming to a pub if you aren't going to grab a pint, is there?"
Patterson looked at the Arab and nodded his head in agreement. The man had a point.
Shadow relocated to the top of the building across from the pub. He watched the green jacketed 'businessman' carefully. Something about him just didn't sit right with the hedgehog.
Not even an hour later, the sun finally died out, and the streets of London were well lit by the streetlights. Shadow had been watching and listening as well as he could. For someone who could survive weeks without sleep, Shadow found himself incredibly bored and weary; ready to drop dead asleep on the cold rooftop.
Their time in the pub lasted for several more hours. It was once again the middle of the night. There was nobody in the pub except the Arab, the General and his four men. The humans hadn't been talking about anything very important all night. Mostly, they blathered on about sports, current events, and dabbled about what they like and don't like about the government.
Shadow thought their mindless dribble would never end, but eventually it did. It was around two in the morning, and the bartender finally had to ask the men to leave so he could go home.
"Just one more drink, man?" asked the Arab slightly intoxicated as he handed him a stack of bank notes and fumbled around in his left pocket.
"Meh, alright, mate, but can you make it quick? The wife's expecting me." the bartender hesitantly agreed as he handed the Arab and one of the men three glasses of ale. They took the glasses to their table in the middle of the pub.
The Arab handed one of the glasses to the General. Shadow noticed the slightest of hand movements from the Arab. From the distance, he saw the green jacketed Arab slide two fingers over the General's glass as he handed it to him, and he noticed that Patterson's pint had just a bit more fizz than the other five glasses.
'Hmph. Smooth, but not smooth enough,' thought Shadow.
The men quickly finished their drinks and departed from the pub. The Arab, the possible assassin, began to walk fast towards an alleyway. Just a moment later, Patterson began coughing and collapsed to his knees.
'Alright, killer, I've got you.'
Shadow jumped from the roof into the middle of the parking lot. He was ready to give chase to the now confirmed assassin. The dark one gave one last glance at the General. Black liquid was flowing from his nose and mouth; the man seemed as good as dead. His associates were trying to load the General into his car. They were all bunched together within two meters of the vehicle with the luggage in the back.
Bang.
Shadow failed to notice the item Black slid out of his pocket as he was making his way towards the alley; a detonator. The blast caught the obsidian anti-hero off guard, and, because of his close proximity to the vehicle, he was knocked to the ground.
Shadow recovered from the shock after a minute and dashed to the alleyway only to catch a glimpse of a figure wearing a black trench coat sprinting out of the alley. The hedgehog looked to a trash can on his left and saw the green jacket worn by the Arab on the ground.
He pulled a radio, seemingly out of nowhere, and contacted his superiors.
"This is Agent Shadow, General Patterson has been assassinated. I have a profile on the hit-man. Arabic, brown hair, thick, opaque glasses, is wearing a black coat and fleeing on foot. I will begin pursuit of the assailant."
Mr. Black took the nearest left turn into another alleyway. He felt a vibration in his right pocket. Black took out a cell phone and read a text message:
Setup. You are being followed. ISS&BM En route to capture contractor. Rendezvous bar.
Mr. Black put his phone away and drew his silenced M9 Beretta from its holster on his left hip as he made his way through the alleyways of London.
'First thing's first; go home and get my gear.'
A smile sneaked its way onto the killer's face.
'Let the games begin.'