Above The Law

Prologue

"As a member of Guillotine you will be entrusted with the task of upholding and enforcing the law wherever and whenever necessary. You will be exempt from prosecution under normal laws with the exception of special cases..."

Carmen Hernandez listened attentively as her new superior, Lawrence Graham, informed her of her duties and perks as a Guillotine agent on the helicopter ride between the Ronald Reagan National Airport and the organisation's headquarters in Washington, D.C.  Carmen was fresh out of the police academy in Los Angeles, when she was recruited by Lawrence, who was waiting for her at her graduation ceremony. Graham didn't say much about exactly what Guillotine was, just that it was a secret government organisation that had a free pass to do whatever it deemed neccessary to nail the bad guys. Carmen didn't know what to expect from Guillotine or why such a secret enforcement agency would want to recruit a trainee instead of some battle-hardened veteran. Her thoughts, however, were cut short by Lawrence's very next words.

"Consider yourself to be, for all intents and purposes, above the law."

Meanwhile in Berlin, Germany:

A lone man laid on his stomach in an abandoned building late in the afternoon, many businesses were nearing closing hour. Traffic was starting to flow as more and more persons hit the streets in a rush to get home yet none passed through this area, so close to the city limits. The man watched as two SUVs came to a stop outside a warehouse two streets across from his current position. He peered at the vehicles through the scope of his modified .50 caliber sniper rifle. A message he had intercepted four days ago indicated a time and location for a high-priority meeting, a meeting that would present him with a rare opportunity to put down his target, an international arms dealer and drug lord.

The sniper watched as six doors flew open, the driver and passenger doors on the lead SUV and all four doors of the rear escort. Six men, dressed in simple black suits and white dress shirts and armed with either automatic rifles or sub-machine guns, stepped out of the vehicles and began scanning the area, weapons at the ready. He guessed that these men were ex-military, they were too efficient and too thorough to be otherwise. When the men were done scanning for any threats, the rear doors of the lead SUV opened and two more mercenaries stepped out. Following them was a man dressed in a gray pinstriped suit. Despite being in his late fifties, the man was well built and looked as if he could hold his own in a fight. Only his face and hands were visible but they were littered with scars. The man was Dmitri Koenig, the half-Russian, half-German boss of Germany's largest criminal group. He had been underground for years but the sniper's recent series of hits on his establishments and personnel forced him above ground and into his sights.

After Koenig exited the vehicle, four of the escorts got into a diamond formation around him while two men took point and two covered the rear. The sniper smiled to himself as he loaded a bullet in the chamber of his rifle. He took deep breaths as he aimed at Koenig.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

He pulled the trigger and the rifle went off with a relatively soft popping sound, the normally loud blast of the gun stifled by the silencer attached to the muzzle. The sniper looked on as the bullet ripped a hole through Koenig's back, pierced his heart and exited his chest before finally burying itself into the dirt a few feet ahead of them. Immediately, the men escorting him turned and darted for cover behind the vehicles as well as nearby crates and barrels, frantically searching for the shooter's position. The sniper pulled back on the bolt and loaded another bullet into the chamber. He took aim again and switched on his thermal sights, allowing him to see the men's heat signatures through their cover. Like a machine, he quickly fired on the men with such speed and accuracy that he dispatched them all and still had a bullet left in the magazine. The mercenaries never had a chance. The sniper then set to work on packing away his weapon and left the building before the lieutenants of Koenig's organisation arrived.

In another building were two men, watching the entire ordeal as it played out. When the sniper had exited their vision, one of the two men whistled appreciatively.

"Damn boss, I haven't seen a marksman that good since Hawk took out that cell in Afghanistan."

"Can it and get ready to move out, we're picking him up," his companion ordered.

The first man grunted and quickly dismantled the long-range scope and tripod they had set up to observe the sniper and his targets. The second, the leader, had already started his descent down the nearby staircase, lost in his own thoughts.

'I look forward to working with you, Nathaniel Cross.'