The gloom of my small house was oppressive. Sitting at my workbench, I drummed my fingers on the top surface. Felt… claustrophobic, almost. Turns out the grass was greener on the other side, especially when you just had a mouthful of fiberglass shards instead of any kind of lawn.
In sitting here, I had found out that the super suit had a way to neutralize blood stains and slowly mend small tears. With the stims doing similar to my wounds, I hadn’t needed to do any of my usual post-battle repairs. It was almost boring.
My eye went up as a notification pinged in my lense.
//Clara: Rockslide is asking if she needs more gasoline for the ‘goo’.
//W: It’s been long enough that the substance will have mostly decayed.
//W: A hot bath should be able to remove the excess.
//Clara: Perfect. I’ll let you know if she needs any assistance, Mr Dubs.
//Clara: Upgrades as agreed will be delivered to her house tomorrow.
//W: Thanks, Clara.
New tech. Almost made nearly dying yesterday worth it. The events over the last few days seemed to have been separate chunks at first, but there was an underlying thread that joined them all together.
Looking around my kill room, I let out a long sigh that rattled through my re-breather. I had been avoiding it, but with little else to do with my day, it was time to rock the boat.
Agent W: Survived the Party and have made full recovery. Available for contracts.
I waited a few moments for a reply to come through, half expecting to be ghosted by my employer. I’d certainly been through a lot more than just glaring at inedible finger food while supers talked my ears off.
Boss: Excellent. Anything else to report? I have something for tonight if that is not too soon.
Agent W: I am certain you know what happened.
Boss: Of course, I do not let my best and brightest stray too far.
Boss: The guise of being a sidekick led you into danger that almost got you killed…
Boss: But what do they think of you now?
Agent W: Haven’t heard about the debriefing yet, but it’s tentative that the LoH might be open to inducting me fully.
Boss: Interesting. I cannot stress both how beneficial it would be to have someone on the inside of the League… but also very dangerous. For us both.
Boss: I will leave it for you to decide. I trust you Agent W. Contract details arriving soon.
I grunted and rolled my eyes. Boss kept basic tabs on me, but didn’t know everything… or at least didn’t show his hand. Didn’t tell him about Clara, my super suit, or how good bubbly bath was. Perhaps he already knew.
Or… perhaps I could ask Roxy for another while she was out working. The adventure to the Dead Zone had left me dusty and sweaty - something I could no longer stand, apparently. The knowledge that I had been some manner of soldier on a task-force lent me hope that I had lived something more normal at some point.
It might take some time, but just as deeply buried memories started to return, so too would I embrace a life worth living.
I turned in my chair and face the crates. New suit was nice, but basic. I needed to outfit a new belt and see if I could get both bandoliers crossed over my chest. Needed a decent sheath for the knife I had stolen. Roxy had put all my gear in a tidy pile on one of the boxes, probably at some point before stripping me? Difficult to think about, so I shook my head.
Stood and went to grab my gun cleaning kit, and left the house to sit in the sun and do it. Deckchair groaned beneath my weight, but my mood lifted. Although there were potential threats out there that could end me if I made a misstep, I actually felt rather calm.
Unspoken apologies were given to my shotgun. While the V-Force drive made it so near anything that fit inside the barrel could be fired, it didn’t mean I should take advantage. After cleaning the dust out, it seemed as though the metal tube hadn’t been damaged. I’d need to prod Clara and see if she could get me some of the more exotic ammo types.
//W: What kind of ammunition can you get me?
//Clara: Depends on what you’re after and willing to pay.
//W: Everything and anything.
//W: Although I know what you want more than credits.
//W: Next time you have a day off, I’ll be your guinea pig.
//Clara: Oh~
//Clara: An offer I cannot refuse. I will be in touch.
I’m sure she still wanted credits for the product, but the sooner I could get her working out how to use my tech, the sooner she could upgrade me. She seemed to be trustworthy, and if she was digging up data on my past, then I’d sweeten any deal to keep her interested.
I put the cleaning kit on the ground and settled in to relax in the deckchair. Perhaps I wouldn’t ask Roxy for a bath just yet if I had a contract coming in from Boss. No doubt I’d end up in quite a state after that. By the time I limped back home, she’d probably be asleep or working late - and I didn’t want to bother her then.
My eyes closed, and I tried to imagine a way I could get my own house. Easiest way would be to move somewhere new - but without identification or any way of having bills and responsibilities tied to me, it’d be impossible. Perhaps if I bent the knee enough to the League, they could airdrop me a similar house to Roxy’s, but it seemed unlikely.
No easy option, but my current abode had become untenable. While I enjoyed the slight breeze underneath the afternoon sunshine, I pictured my own bedroom with a large bed. En-suite with a massive bath. An area to wash down and change between contracts. It was possible to do what I did but live better - I just didn’t have the imagination for it before.
I turned my head at the sound of Roxy’s front door opening and watched her step out. Clearly I’d been resting for longer than I thought, as she was pristine and ready to be a showpiece for the League.
“Alright for some.” She smiled, nodding at me lounging the day away. “You have the rest of the day off?”
[Might go out later, but we’ll see.]
“I’ll be at the League for as long as they can stand my personality. I’ll fight your corner during the mission debriefing.”
[Thank you.]
//Roxy: Clara also set this up - so don’t be a stranger!
//Roxy: Also, don’t die.
//W: You have my word.
[Oh, before you go - I owe you for the thug rehabilitation.]
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“You do. Left my card inside though, so… how about you come knock once you’re done later?”
[It might be late, so only if you still have a light on.]
"Deal! You stay safe then, Dubs."
[You too, Roxy.]
With a smile and a nod, she turned and then leaped up into the sky, a gust of displaced air washing over me as I watched her leave. Looked like around three or four jumps to get into the city.
Once she had vanished from sight, I looked back out to the wastes. Quite the eventful day already, and I was still expected to work late. Still, I had to keep up appearances and get paid. I felt sharper than I had for a longer time, so was ready for something to whet my appetite and get more used to my new suit and equipment.
Briefly, I considered that the other super heroes would also need to give a report on what happened at the factory. They hadn’t really seen me in action, but how well would they speak of me? Probably held a dim view of a sidekick that almost died day one. Depended on how much they knew about the plot to spy on me.
As much as I wanted to use the STAR to search up the requirements of becoming a World Government SEA, it would be prudent to assume Boss had access to my search history. I had more eyes and ears on me than I had ever thought, but it wouldn’t change who I was. What I did. I’d just have to be a little more cautious about what I gave away.
Notification pinged in my lense.
Boss: Contract uploading now. High profile and not something we usually deal with.
Boss: But I think you can handle it. Rewards will be worth the effort.
I looked at the STAR to see the contract downloading. The promise of a decent reward had me hopeful, although I wondered what was considered high-profile enough for this to be an edge case. His consideration that I would be able to handle the task didn’t really move the needle. Didn’t care for his praise anymore. Something about forming connections with people who saw me as more than…
More than a tool.
Sure, Clara wanted to work on my cybernetics primarily, but she was upfront about it and keen to make it more than just a lopsided transaction. Roxy was… well, assuming her report didn’t have an assassin knocking on my door later, I was willing to call her a friend. We’d certainly been through a fair bit in so few days, but fighting alongside her had felt like a natural state of bonding for me. Perhaps an echo of some past existence.
The ping of the eventual receipt of my new contract took my thoughts away… only for them to fall straight back in place. We should probably base our friendship on more than taking the lives of others. But… it's all I did. Should I take up a hobby? Might be an idea if I found a third party who could run errands for me in the city. A proxy to buy things from shops.
Eyes went up to the contract. Read it twice, my breath held. Surely, this couldn’t be right.
Boss wanted me to kill a villain.
Or rather, the contract he had taken on required the assassination of a villain… which was usually outside of our remit. Did he think my narrow escape at the hands of Skyblade was a signal that I wanted more of the same? After almost dying to the cloning villain?
The only thing that prevented me scrambling for my employment contract to see the terms for refusing a job - which I’m sure there was zero ability to - was the promised reward.
More Sanguine stakes.
Undisclosed number, but I presumed it would be something in the lower digits. The most powerful thing I’d ever used, so more would be appreciated. How difficult could it be to kill a villain?
From the briefing, it seemed as though it wasn’t a particularly powerful one when it came to Threat level. Location and auxiliary targets made it more of a problem, however. Villain name; Sweet Jade. Powers looked to be mental manipulation and coercion. Housed in the penthouse of a private hotel. Owns floor nine to fifteen. One to eight was someone else unaffiliated.
Unknown number of armed bodyguards, some might surrender if she was killed first.
I grunted and closed it down. Not exactly how I wanted to spend my evening, although a glance back toward my miserable house had me unsure what I wanted to do with my time.
Change cannister, to start with. Wastes had me parched, and I was starting to feel the emptiness of the glass tube.
After that, load up on my gear and mentally prepare to do just what I was best at.
Killing time.
----------------------------------------
Bike slid into the shadows and switched off.
I looked up at the night overhead, the building just off to my side jutting into the sky, windows illuminated in amber most of the way up. There wasn’t a handy nearby building to leap from, or a fire escape ladder to allow me to reach a higher floor. Wasn’t sure if Roxy would be keen to come leap me halfway up the building - nor would my legs survive anything less than perfect execution.
Not to mention the trouble she’d get in for being an accomplice in my work, even if she and the League were well aware of it. Would destroy her public image.
Twin bandoliers filled with my remaining Tazer shells. Two ten-mags with normal shot. Knife and Sanguine stakes on my belt. Drum mag was full of Rubber shot, because… hmm. Ego reasons. As if I’d get a special medal for completing the contract in a sub-optimal way.
Given that many of the guards might be under the sway of Jade, I didn’t just want to wholesale slaughter them. Didn’t have enough Tazer shells left to fill the drum, so this seemed like a second best. I trudged through the darkness, down an alleyway to reach a space between the closest surrounding structures.
Small service entrance at the back of the building. One dim light above it illuminating the cramped courtyard filled with dumpsters and discarded furniture. With my aura in question, I was uncertain how cautious to be - I had made it this far being brazen, but luck had to run out, eventually.
The low hum of the V-Force energy ready to fire the odd ammunition type gave me a prompt to step forward. Night wasn’t getting any younger.
Door had a small strip of bronze metal that looked like it could be slid to the side for someone to look out.
I tilted my head and knocked on the door.
The slit of a window opened to the side and two annoyed eyes peered through. “Yeah, what d’ya want?”
[I am an assassin sent to kill Miss Sweet Jade.]
Window slammed back shut. A click of metal and clatter of chains, and then the door opened. Short man behind, balding and a sour look on his face. Not really a doorman’s attire, but this was the service entrance.
“Okay, smartass. Your robot brains make you forget your keys again? Which one were you? Karlos? Grant?”
[The latter.]
“Well, hurry up because you’re letting the cold in.”
I shuffled past him into a corridor of dingy brickwork and stacked boxes.
“Oh, and take the left elevator. Right’s been playing up.”
[Thanks.]
He shut the door as I continued on, until a second door took me out to a quiet lobby. Red velvet and hushed warm tones. A decorated carpet soft beneath my boots. The glow of light from a section just out of sight ahead - the front desk, if the long table creeping into view told me anything. Probably manned. Along the right side wall beside me were the two elevators.
I walked past both and found the stairwell. Pretty much adjacent. Stepped back and pressed the button to the right, which opened up immediately. Seemed fine. I pressed the ninth floor button on the inside—the highest it went up to—and exited to walk back over to the stairs. Gave them a little distraction if the man had radioed up.
Wasn’t the first time I’d seen such a trick. I didn’t buy for one second that he had thought that I was just a cyborg under the employ of Jade. The fact that I had opened with my honest intention probably cut short the usual spiel. He’d just directed me to an elevator that was actually trapped. Someone less cautious would be patting themselves on the back for avoiding the ‘broken’ elevator, right before the bottom fell out or it became a cage.
Boots hit the first steps, and I was up and around. Didn’t much care for cardio, but it paid to know what the less tech-dependant method of exit would be. Even now, compared to a lot of the places I did my work, this place reeked of old money.
The tiles of pristine black and white, decorated with golden filigree. Any wooden detailing was a rich brown, the lacquer as bright as the day it had been crafted.
Second floor, then third. Some apprehension within me, but I was confident. Security on the lower levels seemed rather lax, with no overt cameras or alarms up this way.
Round the next set and I stopped. Muscles tensed in seeing the figure standing at the top of them, but I hesitated to fire.
“By His grace, wayward sidekick,” Belle said, her head tilting to the side. “What a curious place to find you scurrying about.”