Through the cold digital eye of my weapon I saw the burst of flechettes hit the first hund right in the face. They made small pencil sized entry wounds which exploded into death blossoms of brain and bone as they blew out the back of his skull. The carbine fell from his dead hands and I transitioned to the next target.

The possibility of body armor meant I had to stick with head and neck shots. But at such close range it was almost too easy to hit the kill zones designated by my wetware. I aimed at the bright green elongated blob that signified the brain and spinal column then once everything was lined up the smart carbine did the rest.

I could have said that all I felt was recoil as I mowed down all seven attackers but there wasn't much of that either. I didn't feel anything. Ice water flowed in my veins as I stood up and turned to engage the remaining gangsters in the lobby.

My wetware showed seven remaining threats circling around the elevator, which confused me at first. Sacher hadn't managed to kill any of them. He also hadn't accepted my invitation to link up. Was he dead?

No, I realized as I checked the camera feeds. Sacher had used the diversion I caused to ride the elevator up and away from the ambush. He was twelve floors up. “You're a real prick.” I messaged him as I queued up my shots and sent seven more gangsters straight to hell. “You left me to die, you asshole.”

A timer clicked in my head and as I put the last gangster down. The total time from the beginning of the fight to the end had been two minutes and fifty seconds. I put in a call to building security to tell them the gangsters were all dead.

Then I walked over to the hund I sucker punched earlier and relieved him of his extra magazines. I also pocketed three green heal sticks and a fragmentation grenade. He wasn't breathing and the side of his skull was caved in, which surprised me because I hadn't hit him that hard.

Strangely I still felt nothing after killing these people. Perhaps it just hadn't hit me yet? I gathered up more magazines, some heal sticks, two fragmentation grenades, and another pristine Döbian carbine.

An very unsettling feeling came over me as I recognized the gray camouflage pattern on one hund’s plate carrier. It matched my pants perfectly. These brown furred hunds or at least the way they styled themselves seemed familiar as well.

A communication link opened up as Sacher called me back. “We need to get to the safe house.” He whispered.

I gritted my teeth. Something about his voice just got to me. “Why the fuck are you whispering? Aren't you able to speak sub vocally?”

“No, I'm using a Handy.” He explained.

“Wait… what?” I located him on the cameras and sure enough he was holding an old school smartphone pressed to his ear. “Holy shit you are old. Wait a second… why do you have my duffel bag?”

Sacher looked up and spotted the security camera. Then looked down at the black duffel bag in his hand. “Wait, you can see me?” He asked.

“Yeah. Also, all the gangsters are dead. So bring me back my fucking bag you piece of shit.” I said before I hung up.

I looked over the second carbine as I walked back into the lobby. It was pristine but it wasn't stock. There was a reinforced ring around the camera lens to prevent damage and a low profile white light for target identification mounted on the left side of the rail. I popped open the compartment in the grip and sure enough there was a multi tool stashed inside to facilitate field maintenance.

I sent pictures of the weapons and their serial numbers to Knight along with an explanation of what happened. He was going to want to know that someone was stealing his hardware.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Two security guards came out to greet me. I recognized Mr. Brown immediately. “Holy shit.” He said as he looked around the lobby.

“Yep.” I replied, less than patiently waiting for Sacher to return with my bag. I send out a message to Sapphire with an explanation of what happened and immediately received a message that she was on her way. She also made a point of reminding me not to talk to the cops.

The elevator dinged and Sacher stepped out into the lobby with his pistol drawn. A few seconds later he holstered it and gave me a look I couldn't quite decipher. It looked halfway between constipation and concern.

I held out my hand. “Give me my fucking bag back before I take it back.” I said, still angry that the person I once idolized had turned out to be such a worthless piece of shit.

I was seeing him now for what he was and it sickened me. Sacher wasn't a monster from a fairytale like or a hero cop. No, he was just an old frightened man that time had left behind. A dinosaur in the digital age coasting on his reputation.

“You're a fucking joke, no wonder Chowder got killed.” I told him in Döbian as I took back my bag. “My lawyer will be here shortly. I will be in my apartment. You can run home now. You're good at running. Which is surprising considering you only have one good leg.”

“Fuck you, Eden. Whatever you are.” Sacher replied. “Your father or grandfather must have had fun experimenting on you. I recognize warhund augmentation when I see it.”

I considered my options. Of course the smart thing would be to say nothing. Sacher was fishing, trying to get information to use against me later. Now that he knew what I was capable of he would want me even more. I wasn't sure if he would stoop to blackmail, but it wasn't something I could rule out. Either way he wouldn't take no for an answer.

Oh well, it was time to end this. People were already bringing out recording devices and I was going to end up on the news anyway. I might as well control the narrative.

“It's hard to see anything when you're hiding in a corner.” I said, raising my voice and switching to Hund-Katzen so everyone could hear and understand. “You're a fucking disgrace and begging me to save you won't help. You got drunk on your own legend and now you want me to bail you out. You're a washed up coward unfit to shine the shoes of the people who died serving under you.”

I spit on the floor. “I will never work for you and neither should anyone else. You are a fucking coward who ran away and left me to die.” Then I turned and walked away.

Sacher knew what was happening and the media shit storm that would follow. Old and out of touch as he was Sacher understood that he was a dead man walking. Nobody would serve under him now. Nobody would protect him.

Conning me into joining his team must have seemed like a low risk high reward proposition. Now he was as good as dead. He was also not paying attention. I was facing away but the carbine tucked under my right armpit was pointing at him and my finger was on the trigger.

I watched through the camera as he pulled his pistol from its holster. I stopped and waited, still not turning around. I didn't need to turn around to take him out. “Are you going to shoot me in the back?” I asked, loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Ja.” He replied, bringing his pistol up to fire. But before he could finish the movement I sent a burst of flechettes right into his face. Sacher was dead before he hit the floor, his legend ended along with his life.

As I stepped into the elevator and pressed the button to bring me to my apartment I meditated on the fact that I had killed seventeen people today and not felt anything. There was no pleasure or revulsion. No pride or shame.

I had expected I would at least feel something. But the lack of feeling was troubling. Then again, wasn't this better? If I had to kill, shouldn't I be thankful that I didn't enjoy or hate it? Wasn't this the best possible outcome?

Tomorrow the sun would still rise and the only difference was a few less people would be around to enjoy it. There was no angel coming to condemn me for my sins or devils rising up to welcome me. None of it mattered.

Of course there would be fallout from killing Sacher. But I was reasonably sure that him trying to shoot me in the back live on camera after I saved his life wasn't going to sway a jury in the prosecutor’s favor.

When I got back to my apartment I sent a message to Simon explaining the situation and another to Aunt GG. Simon told me to call him when I could talk. GG replied with two pages of assorted smile emojis.

I looked at myself in the hallway mirror. Nothing had changed. I didn't have a single scratch or drop of blood on me. I was unscathed, inside and out.