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Front 12.3 - Killer
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As quickly as they had entered the Duke's estate, the two men soon found themselves in a similar yet different limousine - With a familiar driver, although this time no man in a suit to escort them.
The stylish vehicle soon wound them back down the long path of the mansion and into the greater city, and with the time of day & year being what it was, there was a fair few people on the dust laden, plain streets.
The driver gradually explained the 'job' to them, as well as offering them both a small printed file on the matter. Supposedly the 'enemy' had many teams rather then just one person to make an attempt on the Duke's life. This afternoon, one assassin in particular was without an assigned counter - That said their intelligence believed the man to be hiding in Bannerman's slums based on a passenger manifest from the local ports. Kolme and Sabban were really just to act as Hiki's bodyguards.
So the limousine continued, past the regular city streets and out towards the poorest quarters of the city. It was a common joke Sabban knew, to say that Abhailen cities had no poor or rich districts from the outside - Almost every building was made of the same materials, had some form of underground portion, dust shutters and a height of no more than 3 or 4 stories - Making it hard for outsiders to differentiate between a poor household, and an affluent one.
But now Sabban was beginning to wonder if that statement held true;
The 'slums' were dilapidated to put it lightly. The 'roads' were simply the dust layered, empty spaces between buildings, the houses tiny cuboid shapes - Their windows usually just cheap metal or unwieldy plastic sheets to prevent dust, some just open gaps with rag-like curtains for protection.
There were hobbled rows of these small 'homes', then in other spots the buildings became disparate - The biggest abodes being two or three of the cube structures stacked in gaint 'stair' like pattern. Heavy tents could be seen periodically alongside public water-sources - Bins were rare, lights too, with trash lining many a corner.
The driver seemed to catch Sabban's eye in the car mirror; "Bet you think this is pretty bad eh? You should go to some other cities, down south some time - All outsiders should..."
"Why's that?" Sabban said back a little coldly.
"Heh, because this is what they look like, all the Union occupied cities are like this now - I hear most of the old capital is even this way now, 'cept the bits the TSU officials live in of-course."
The driver replied with a bitter joviality.
"But Bannerman's free of all that right, so why have a part of your city look like... this?"
The driver didn't seem to have an answer to that, so Kolme jumped in after a few awkward moments;
"That's easy Sab-lad, there's always a need for a place like this - No truly big cities like Bannerman can avoid it for long. There'll always be people who fall down, end up homeless for a bit - Some even desire to be homeless, in a manner of speaking."
"And this is the answer?"
"Yup. Atleast these are buildings, crap or not - Atleast there's water. You don't last long on Abhaile out in the open with nothing lad, this place is probably a paradise for a group 'o people who otherwise wouldn't last a week - And besides makes a good trap for criminals, the perfect place for 'em to hide--"
"And for mooks like us to be sent on errands to find 'em huh?" Sabban sighed back.
The drivers grumbled a little as the limo came to a perfectly silent stop, he turned back to them - "Not that often to be honest, most underworld types know this place is a trap already. But we do sometimes get lucky like today."
Their odd conversation over, Sabban and Kolme departed the vehicle which quickly left.
They had been dropped off in a wide open area, surrounded on all sides by the strange little cuboid buildings and lack of infrastructure - Sabban just covering his eyes in time when a sudden gust blew a heavy swirl of dust around them both, Kolme began coughing having taken in a mouthful.
"A storm now? Just great, what are the chances!"
"Very high mister, assassins need the cover." Chirped a voice at Sabban's side.
Standing silently beside them was a small figure in a camouflaged mud-coloured poncho and hood, her light red-brown hair and amber eyes peeking out from under said hood.
"Damn you're quiet."
Sabban murmered, causing the young girl to grin mischievously.
"Hello again Miss, Hiki was it?"
"Yup, yup!" The girl beamed, turning her attentions to the half crouched Kolme.
He offered his hand out to the girl, "Nice to meet ya' properly - We're in your care today it seems." Kolme added politely as the two shook hands like businessmen - Sabban just scoffed.
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Fifteen minutes later and Sabban was beginning to question the validity of this job - They had so far seemingly wandered at random around the streets of the slums - Hiki explaining the incoming dust storm had been predicted before now and that the assassins probably intended to use it as cover for a quick escape - Sabban would admit that the girl knew her stuff, but how exactly she would lead them to the enemy in the massive place, that he was at a loss for.
They had briefly stopped at an ad-hoc street vender to buy two cheap ponchos of their own and now walked through a slightly denser part of the slums, with tighter gaps between buildings backing onto the 'regular' portions of town.
Also strange was Kolme's responses to the girl, he was being 'nice'. This wasn't to say Sabban saw Kolme as cold-hearted or anything but he hadn't expected the older man to be good with children - And yet it seemed he was. He was good at listening, giving praise and not patronising - In just 15 minutes he'd almost started to look like a kindly old grandfather or uncle might.
Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
Sabban was left to simply accept he had never really seen Kolme with a kid before so the new side of him probably shouldn't have been that surprising - 'He's always nice to Una as well, she's kinda a kid too I guess'.
Another few minutes of walking passed, the gales of wind growing stronger & atmosphere heavier as they came upon a split of two alleyways;
"Mr.Scowly face should go left, Gramps and me go right - The paths meet on the other side." Hiki said confidently.
Sabban, well, scowled, before nodding to Kolme and beginning to trek left, still darkly musing on how this search could possibly succeed - The other two heading straight on.
"Hey Hiki, sorry if this is personal kid but I w'ere wondering - Did some folks ever try and take you away? From his Grace I mean?" Kolme asked casually.
Even from under her cloak it was clear Hiki tensed up a little, "...... Maybe, but the Duke made them go away...."
"That so? Good, I'm gla--"
"But...."
"But?"
"Long ago, people came to my old house.... They made me do tests and scans and stuff. The professor tried to stop them when he found me, but they got him..."
Kolme did his best to keep a level expression;
"The professor being the man who you grew up with right? I heard he died naturally?"
Hiki shook her head gently, "They made it look that way.... Only I got away... He was kinda like you mister, kind but really old looking."
"And the Duke, they don't know this?"
The young girl shook her head once more.
"Listen kiddo, maybe you should tell 'em, could--"
"Kolme!!" Interjected a yell from the end of the alley, "I found the bastard!"
Sabban was panting hard, despite having no idea how their random search could reveal anything - As he had rounded the left side corner, a man in used looking business attire had exited one of the small buildings carrying a briefcase. The two had locked eyes for just a moment before the man took off running down the street at full tilt.
Stopping only momentarily to call out to Kolme, Sabban gave rapid chase.
Keeping a firm hold on the suitcase, the man in black scurried along the roads and alleys - Tipping over the copious rubbish bags, stomping through tents for shortcuts and anything else to try increase the gap between himself and his pursuer.
Ignoring a plea from Kolme to slow down, Sabban vaulted, sprinted and clambered his way after the man - He knew a single second would make all the difference as around them the storm was beginning to pick up - The wind had begun to beat against him, red dust filled the dry air gradually making his target grow fainter and fainter.
Bursting around a corner into an open plaza of sorts, the suited man froze for a moment seeing no more obstacles to throw or narrow gaps to bottle down - Not waiting long he quickly chose to climb an exposed ladder onto the flat top of one of the small building rows.
Hot on his heels Sabban, pistol in hand, took the ladder rungs two at a time.
While his body moved flat out, his mind however wouldn't stop screaming for a halt.
Who was he chasing? What had they done? Could he be sure they were the target?
Could he Pull the Trigger?
After all, why should he? This man was an enemy of the Duke, a board member of IAFS maybe, if their words were to be believed - But not a direct enemy.
The man before him had done nothing to Sabban or his allies personally - Heck he hadn't yet made an attempt on the Duke's life.
He'd been trained for anti-personnel combat, a fact he was sure the Duke would gleefully site proudly as a part of the training academy here in Bannerman - But he had never actually shot a pistol at a human face.
He knew he had killed before, other pilots - But never face to face like this.
What would happen if he missed?
Having chased the enemy up another ladder to the roof of a second story property - On the far side was another ladder back down but Sabban had been quicker, drawing his weapon and calling out before the suited man could reach his way back down.
Slowly the man turned to face Sabban.
The air was curling angrily around them now, the rough dust spattering their exposed faces.
The man was unremarkable, middle aged, black hair, generic sunglasses - Not the sort of face to haunt your dreams, or so Sabban hoped quietly.
As he finished turning the man lunged and in a moment it felt like the world ground to a halt - Through the blistering storm the man let loose his briefcase that clattered to the floor, opening to reveal the disassembled components of a sniper rifle - And dagger in hand rammed forward for Sabban's jugular.
Sabban knew his options the second he saw the shinning metal glint bursting through the sandy-red storm. He could shoot and if he missed he would no doubt die - Or he could sacrifice a hand, raise it up, let the knife pierce it, pierce through his scared, burned palm - While non-lethally shooting the foe at point-blank range in the following second.
He knew all this instantly, as though he always had and always would - He also knew he might never pilot again if he blocked with his hand, and lost the vital nerve connections.
He pondered for a fraction of a second if that would be so bad.
He was sure he should raise the pistol and take the shot. He was a good shot after-all and this was less than a metre's range, he wouldn't miss - He would gun down this man who was yet to actually commit any crimes.
His body felt heavy but his mind was burning vibrantly alive - He readied himself for the knife to land.
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