AN:Thank yout o Serenitatis Cove for my first review and your feedback has been taken on board; I have marked it down to T.
Chapter 2 'One more target'
The fox the stared at the wind chime, for some unknown reason he felt an ominous sense of dread about it. For a brief few moments he even contemplated ignoring it, pretending he'd never seen it. But no matter how depressed and anxious he was he knew that was not a sensible position. The Zone Runners don't do second chances, he'd be out of a job, what then? Hunted by them as a traitor? Where would he run? Return to Knothole? Surrender to his other persecutors, let the 'Black Queen' finally get vengeance after all these years? Never! He would carry out the mission, collect the bounty and hire a plumber to finally get a decent shower for once in this sty of a flat.
With the vulpine's mind made up, he walked over to the bedside table and drew out his pistol and placed it into a holster attached to his chest. It was a large 8 and a half inch long barrelled .44 Magnum pistol; cumbersome and unwieldy but it was very effective. Miles smirked thinking how many bounties had surrendered quietly on sight of the thing. As the hand canon was a six shot revolver he always carried a smaller semi-automatic pistol for back up just in case he got into a fire fight but frankly that was a very rare occasion.
With the guns attached to his person he slipped on his old, tatty oilskin duster and placed his fedora onto his head. The outfit was perfect for his job, the coat and hat kept him protected from Gladiopolis' frequent rainstorms but more importantly it kept him inconspicuous. Not being noticed was key to Miles' job; it helped a bounty hunter stalk his prey. Years earlier he'd also taken to dying his fur the darker brown of his youth, but masking his second tail required a more creative solution; the attire helped him in this as few would take a second glance at the random fox in a tatty jacket wearing an old, unstylish hat. Finally he attached his wrist communicator which allowed him to communicate and receive information from his superiors.
He stepped out of his brutalist concreate tenement out onto the streets of Gladiopolis. As usual sky was grey and the rain poured down. Gladiopolis' weather seemed to suit it perfectly, as the centre of Mobius' iron, steel and armaments manufacturing. It was nothing more than 500 square miles of smokestacks, iron foundries, steel mills, chemical plants and armaments factories with vast tower blocks of cheap low quality housing for the poorly paid factory labourers. Before the war, the city had boomed, the city's rivers became polluted and thick smog hung over the city. The war had de-populated it massively but generally the factories were undamaged. After the conflict ended the vast production might of the city was realised as other states on Mobius needed material for rebuilding. Various forces moved in to seize the factories for themselves and the city became a battleground for the workers groups and the militias of their plutocratic rivals.
The result had been a stalemate and an uneasy truce; enough central government had been organised for the basic running of city but not enough to break the dead lock or relieve any social problems. There was a police force but its powers and reach were nominal, private militias and 'red guard' units keeping the peace in the many areas they feared to tread.
As the industry blossomed again, migrants had flocked from surrounding areas creating further tensions, a rocketing crime rate and a thriving black market. But the government was pretty much powerless, the syndicate leaders and the plutocrats both benefitting from the wealth now began to collude to keep it that way.
It was the perfect conditions for the Zone Runners to set up shop. Miles had arrived six years ago and found enough bounty jobs to stay, making him the traditionally nomadic organisation's very first stationary agent. In his time, Miles had cultivating a large underground network; containing hundreds of confidential informants and spies, enough for the Zone Runners' leadership council to send him a full time handler to choose targets. It was this handler Miles had been signalled to meet with the wind chime.
The fox stopped briefly on the way to pick up a couple of the days newspapers before walking into a dreary coffee shop about a mile and a half from his tenement. He sat at a table and began glancing over the papers whilst drinking the piss-poor excuse for coffee the city's poorer district cafés sold.
Miles skimmed the general news reports on the business of the city and foreign affairs. His interest was piqued by an article in what past for the society page it covered a recent celebration held in honour of the power-sharing talks at one of the city's more upmarket establishments, the Bejewelled Bat. The fox sneered to himself, I'll have to pay another visit, the owner's always good for scuttlebutt about which leader's going to be purged after something like this.
After 30 minutes or so he was interrupted by a voice, "morning Agent Double Tail," the fox looked up to see the familiar rabbit he knew and loathed, "you're looking rough as usual, I assume you were rather tired and emotional again last night?" he asked cheerily.
"Go boil your head Jack, whose today's lucky contestant?"
The rabbit smiled for a brief second as if savouring the fox's annoyance before sitting down opposite the fox, "I can't give you the target without any Intel, I don't want to see you hurt," he smiled sweetly, "too badly."
The fox ignored him and took a sip of the cold poor quality coffee next to him, "ergh, I think it's actually getting worse" he muttered to himself.
The rabbit sensing the fox wouldn't bite gave in and opened the messenger bag he carried to reveal a folder which he placed on the table.
"Tell me Double Tail what do you know of the politics of Knothole?"
For a brief second the vulpine flinched on hearing the name of his old home, "I've told you and the council before Jack, I don't do targets from Knothole."
"Why? You know the black queen wants you dead, why treat them as anything but another bounty?"
"I don't care; anyway Zone Runners are banned from Knothole."
"Oh we are, so we only have limited Intel. But from what we do have it seems something is happening, they have agents in the field again."
"Why?" the fox asked only to be met with a curt shrug.
"Whatever it is, it's has got people upset and they've placed a bounty on one of the agents. Apparently they've flipped an agent from Emerald city and encouraged him to handover sensitive data. a request has been made for us to terminate the agents and prevent the handover."
"And I'm taking the Emerald City guy out?" Miles asked hopefully.
"No, he's already dead; an agent neutralized him two days ago. Your target is the Knothole agent."
The fox looked at him angrily, "you know my rules, I don't hit Knothole!" he said raising his voice slightly.
"You'll hit this one. The council ordered it."
"For the walker's sake, the other agent is dead, the handover has been prevented it serves no purpose to target Knothole, your just putting our organisation at risk," Miles argued.
"No, the council marked this termination as a high priority to send a message. You'll do it, that's an order!"
"High priority! Wow, someone bunged the council a lot of money then," the defeated fox sneered. "I remember when we were a police force rather than some rich man's assassination squad!"
"Oh the paid murderer has principles, isn't that nice?" Jack replied. He took a photo from the folder, "your target," he said passing the picture to the fox, "is a purple hedgehog, she's female, in her early to mid-twenties, and goes by the name of Sonja but that's likely to be an alias, that's all the intel we have. Recognise her?"
Miles stared at the photo, it was a bad picture taken at range. Something about her was familiar but he couldn't place it. After a moment he replied, "no I never heard of a Sonja, she in the city yet?"
"She's been here almost 24 hours; the meeting was scheduled for 21:34 this evening at some dive called the 'Laughing Duck' just off 34th street. I suggest you take her out in the moments of panic after she realises the Emerald agent failed to show." On finishing the rabbit stood up from the table and made towards the exit, "Happy hunting Double Tail."
Miles remained seating for a few minutes staring at the picture, who are you? He only knew two female hedgehogs, Sonic's mother, who, although she was purple was far too old and Amy, who was the right age but the wrong colour and was not cut out for espionage Oh well, he thought, suppose it makes it easier.
AN: Hope you like this part, we have a hunt to coming next. Please review I could really use the pointers.