Thursday night
Southwest Chicago
Safehouse F
They came out of the darkness, in six separate, but identical teams.
Each team consisted of six bodies and they closed on the Safehouse from four different directions. No lights were in evidence so they were obviously making use of NVG equipment. I looked over at Jason.
"You going to turn your hand?" I offered.
"Show me the way, Hit Girl!"
"Shadow, take Mr Bourne to the armoury and find him some body armour, NVGs and weapons. Petra, let's get ourselves ready."
"What about me?" Stephanie asked indignantly.
I winked at Nicky as I replied.
"I need you to stay with Nicky – she needs guarding, plus I can't leave a stranger in the Safehouse alone."
Stephanie glared at me as she pulled on her mask. I had expected an argument; however, Psyche just readied her weapons and took up station near to the entrance.
Safehouse K had five floors above ground.
The entire first floor was entirely devoid of obstacles – just 22,000 square feet of open concrete with a concrete staircase rising up in the centre, on the north side. On the south side, again in the centre of the long side of the building, was a single lift shaft with a cargo elevator. At the back of the building, on the west end by the loading docks, was a steel fire escape that gave access to and from each floor.
The CIA team separated, one team went to each of the five floors while the remaining team remained outside to guard against our escape.
"Overwatch, any sign of snipers?" I called.
"Still scanning the area, Hit Girl," Leon replied from her roof-top perch two hundred yards away to the south-west.
"Jackal, Wildcat – check in!"
"We found their vehicles and they are wired – two men on guard..." Jackal replied from two streets away where he and Wildcat monitored the CIA's six SUVs.
"Hawk, Splinter, Trojan – check in!"
"We have the control van under surveillance – no obvious guard, but we are still covert," Splinter replied.
The three vigilantes were in Beast, half a mile away, and about thirty yards from a large black van that purported to belong to an electrical maintenance company. No one was going to escape without our express permission...
"CIA teams are moving into position. They are at each fire door on the northwest corner fire escape," Battle Guy announced from Safehouse F.
"Ready!" Petra announced from her position on the fifth floor.
"Ready!" Shadow announced from the fourth floor.
"Ready!" Spectre called from the third floor – Jason needed a name and it had been Nicky's idea.
"Ready!" I growled from the second floor.
"Ready!" Kick-Ass hissed from his position in the side alley, eight feet from two armed CIA men.
"Ready!" Psyche added from the basement level.
Out of the night, there came sniper shots from three separate directions as gunfire poured into the fifth, third and second floors of Safehouse K.
"Heavy rounds coming in!" Petra announced.
"No shit, Sherlock!" Leon replied as she scanned the area for the snipers.
"Triangulating!" Hal announced from Safehouse F using strategically placed microphones to measure the time between sound reaching each microphone. "Sniper One – eight-zero-zero yards, zero-nine-zero!"
"Sniper One is masked from my location!" Leon responded.
"But not from mine – I have him..." Medic replied from across the nearby water where she was the backup in Titan with Mist.
"Sniper Two – seven-nine-one yards, one-nine-seven!" Hal called.
"I have him..." Leon replied and then two rapid shots were heard over the comms. They were suppressed, but the round was supersonic. "He's dog meat!"
The coroner would have fun with that body – the first bullet had obliterated the man's head while the second had entered the destroyed base of the skull and then travelled the length of the body before exciting at the crotch and burying itself into a concrete wall.
"Sniper Three – five-one-six yards, two-five-eight!" Hal called.
Overwatch Position
"Oh fuck!" I said calmly over the comms. "He has me..."
A large round struck just inches from my left hand sending up chips of concrete. I had no time to flinch; I steadied my rifle and muttered a curse as I sent the tip of another .50-calibre round downrange...
"Fucking bastard thought he could outshoot me...!" I exclaimed as my bullet bored straight through the other sniper's scope and into his brain via his right eye.
For good measure, I shot the man who had been guarding the sniper's back and who came forward to see what had happened to the now very dead sniper.
Titan
Almost a kilometre away, Medic moved stealthily through the darkness with Mist a dozen yards behind.
The sniper was still shooting – but he had a protector, guarding his back. As Mist watched with a P90 to her shoulder, Medic advanced towards the protector who turned and raised his Colt M4 carbine, sending a three-round burst of 5.56-millimetre bullets into Medic's heavy chest armour.
"You fuckers make me sick!" She exclaimed in her electronically shrouded voice as she pulled the trigger three times on her Kel-Tec KSG shotgun, blasting the unfortunate CIA man into a bloody mess. "Fuck with a little girl's mind will you, you sick bastards?"
Medic advanced and blasted away at the sniper even as he rolled to meet the new threat from behind him. His head was vaporised as the contents of four 12-gauge shells exploded out of the end of the shotgun.
"Sniper One and another sick fuck are down – permanently!" Medic growled into the comms.
Safehouse K
The assault teams had thought they were onto an easy entry.
They had sniper support which was normally an equaliser, but they had become more and more worried as they had heard each of their own snipers go off the air, not to mention the cautionary warning of an enemy sniper in the area. The fifth floor team made their entry at the same time as the other teams, blasting open the fire escape with a block of C4. They pushed through the debris and began firing single shots in prearranged directions and then fanning out in pairs to cover the 110-foot width of the open plan area. There were numerous wooden packing crates scattered in a seemingly random arrangement.
There was nothing random about the layout; Safehouse K was used for multi-aspect training.
Safehouse K: Basement
From my safe location in the basement, I was able to monitor the attack.
Yes, I was annoyed at being kept safe, but I had no choice. Every floor had low-light and infra-red closed-circuit video surveillance, so I was able to follow the fight with Nicky beside me. As I watched, I saw Petra up on the fifth floor as she moved forwards and toward the centre of the open space before jumping up onto a stack of wooden crates.
Almost a minute later, she smoothly and silently drew a single combat Katana from her back, and then casually took off the head of a CIA attacker as he moved past. His partner turned at the movement to take the same Katana in the neck.
..._...
I laughed as I saw the confusion in the other two pairs of Agents on the fifth floor as they called for the third pair to respond.
"That was very well done!" Nicky said appreciatively.
"Your man has nothing on us!"
"Is that so..."
..._...
Spectre was on the third floor – we could see him moving through the darkness.
"Spectre, movement at your nine o'clock – M4 to the right shoulder..."
We saw Spectre move over to one side slightly and raise a hand with a knife visible. The hand plunged downwards and sideways into the neck of the unfortunate CIA Agent who died without knowing what had killed him. His partner lasted only a few seconds longer as his legs were kicked out from under him and he dropped his carbine, crashing to the floor. The knife plunged down again, into his heart, killing him instantly.
The man crashing to the floor had attracted other attention and bullets peppered the wall behind Spectre as he dove to the floor, rolling and bringing up his Glock 17 pistol, squeezing the trigger several times.
"Six down..." Spectre said in a cold monotone that echoed Psyche's own.
Half a mile away
CIA Command Van
There was intense consternation in the Command Van as the on-scene commander fretted about his men.
They were dying and he had no idea why.
"What the fuck is happening in there?"
His snipers were no longer responding – which probably meant that they were dead – there was an enemy sniper in the area and his men were being engaged on all levels of the building. Maybe there was more to these Fusion guys than had been briefed.
"What was that?" The commander said as his attention was drawn to a flat screen monitor mounted in the large control panel that ran down the left side of the van's interior.
"Not sure, boss..."
A large dark form seemed to materialise out of the darkness beside his outside team. The wireless camera had been placed just before the attack, along with several others.
"Team seven – check your six..." The commander ordered urgently over the communication circuit.
The two men turned and both opened fire with their M4 carbines, however their bullets did not seem to do anything as the menacing dark form advanced towards the men. The dark form was wearing obvious, heavy body armour and it simply raised a wicked looking AA-10 shotgun and several blasts later, the two CIA men fell to the ground.
"Fuck!"
Seven hundred miles to the east
Washington DC
"Christ! What is going on in that fucking city?"
A masked face, with green and yellow markings, appeared on the screen before them. CIA Deputy Director of the Support Directorate, Noah Vossen stepped back involuntarily.
"You're running out of men, Vossen – give it up!" Came the electronically enhanced voice of Kick-Ass.
Then the screen went blank – the blast of the shotgun, the last thing they saw. Vossen threw his cup of coffee across the conference room where it smashed against the wall beneath the large flat-screen monitor mounted on the wall.
"Fuck Kick-Ass; fuck the lot of them – kill them all!"
Chicago
Safehouse K: second floor
The first pair died together, each taking a Katana in the chest, cutting their hearts in half
I reached down and pulled the comms off the head of one of the dead – a woman.
"You feeling scared yet?" I growled into the microphone and I saw two pairs of CIA Agents freeze. "Well, you should be; I'm just getting warmed up, how about you?"
"All teams, switch to alternate channel!"
I dropped the comms, smirking as I headed into the darkness.
Safehouse K: fourth floor
I grinned at Hit Girl's psychological attack on the CIA.
She loved fucking with people's minds! I had seen the Agents on my level freeze as Hit Girl had spoken – they had all heard Hit Girl's announcement, as had been intended. I raised my FN Five-seveN pistol and secured a suppressor to the end of the barrel – it was time for target practice!
I stalked my prey.
That voice had freaked me out; I would not deny it!
The voice was full of evil and menace – I knew that it was Hit Girl and I knew her reputation… We had to be careful. I looked over at Carl; he looked a little freaked out too, but our training quickly took over and we moved steadily through the darkness.
My mind registered the flash first, then the sound of suppressed gunshots as Carl's head exploded, covering me in blood and brains. I instinctively triggered off half a magazine in the direction of the flash.
"Wrong direction, cunt!"
The voice scared me to the core and I knew what was coming next. My brain momentarily registered the sharp pain in the side of my head as the bullet smashed through the bone...
Half a mile away
CIA Command Van
"Who do we have left?"
"Of the thirty that went into the building?" The tech agent replied. "Zero... Of the six guarding the perimeter... Two left..."
"Better make that zero!" Another tech reported despondently as there were several flashes on a screen before him.
The commander turned to a third tech.
"Get us the fuck outta here!"
The tech scrambled into the driver's seat and had just started the engine when he heard the roar of a large and powerful engine from his right. Bright lights illuminated, dazzling him as the roaring increased and whatever it was, struck the Command Van broadside.
Beast
The van was flipped over onto its side as the reinforced bumper on the front of Beast struck it squarely in the side.
Hawk stamped on the brakes and leapt out, raising her Assegai spear and throwing it towards the first man attempting to escape. It struck the man in the back of his right shoulder and he went down, screaming.
Splinter and Trojan pulled open the rear door of the van. Seven rounds later, there was silence in the Central Intelligence Agency's Command Van.
Hound
Wildcat and Jackal approached the two CIA guards who seemed very jittery.
"Howdy, cunts!" Wildcat growled as her claws ripped into and through the neck of the first man.
Jackal said nothing as he violently twisted the neck of the other man. Both men were dead before they hit the ground.
"Good work, Wildcat!"
"Can I blow 'em now?" Wildcat asked. "Please? Pretty please? Pretty please with a cherry on top..."
"You do that..." Jackal chuckled, walking back towards Hound.
Wildcat pulled a remote detonator from her belt and flipped off the safety.
Safehouse F
Six almost simultaneous explosions told me that Wildcat had just put a small dent in the CIA's vehicle inventory.
It was over. I was not pleased with all the killing that had occurred, but they had invaded my building! It would take a while to sanitise everything, but I had a distinct feeling that the CIA would do it for me; they would not want any evidence to remain.
The CIA would remove all traces of the attack.
Washington DC
Vossen turned away from the screen and glared at his subordinate.
"Get a clean-up team in there – tonight never happened!"
Two days later
Saturday afternoon
I was walking down the street with Anne-Marie, not too far from home, when I had the weirdest feeling.
It felt like I was being watched – my training kicked in and I instantly became more aware of my surroundings. As I casually looked around, though, I couldn't see anybody acting suspiciously and my counter-surveillance skills were seeing nothing. Then I passed a girl who seemed older than Chloe, but younger than Mindy, maybe sixteen or so, or possibly older. There was something about her that triggered something deep in my subconscious.
The girl actually smiled at me as she passed by, but I ignored her.
..._...
An image was forming in my mind as I sat eating my dinner that evening.
I was receiving some strange looks from the others as I ate, just gazing into nothing.
"Problem, Steph?" Mindy asked.
"Maybe..." I mused, and then it hit me like a brick. "I've seen her before!"
"Huh?" Danny asked, his fork halfway to his mouth.
Images began to form in my mind, images that had been lost, deep in my subconscious. They were old memories from my very earliest days of being trained by the CIA. I remembered sleeping in a large dormitory with many other girls of varying ages. That face – the girl had slept only three beds away from me. I remembered getting up each morning and showering with the other girls before breakfast. I had always hated showering in public, at first, but that feeling about any loss of privacy had soon gone away. I remembered eating breakfast with the others, which had included boys too.
All the faces were blurry, all except one. That girl – she was definitely another me, only she was much older which meant that she was probably fully trained – an assassin. Had she recognised me? My hair was a different colour, but would that fool her?
It wouldn't have fooled me, I knew.
..._...
"Stephanie!"
Mindy was shouting now; I must have tuned out.
"I don't remember her name, but I remember the face – she's part of Urban Predator..."
"You certain?"
Mindy looked worried as I nodded.
"My nemesis..."
"That doesn't sound good," Mindy commented as she bit her lip – she was worried.
"She can only be here for one reason..."
"To kill you?"
"Yes."