Among The Stars: Phantom and Mercenary

Chapter 1 - Prologue

"What a fucking mess." Paul Carson cursed as he walked across the abandoned, dimly lit facility in stride.

There was a look of disgust on his face as he maneuvered his way around the blood and marred bodies on the floor. He was dressed in his typical attire: an expensive black jacket over a white designer shirt unbuttoned at the collar, pants and Italian shoes. The debonair man looked completely incongruous in the surroundings of the dilapidated building. He was flanked by an entourage of people that followed him closely, all on high alert with automatic machine guns aimed at the injured person, who was sitting against a wall. Cornered.

Standing in a clean spot, Paul stopped before the person within a safe distance. He could see the visible bullet holes in the person's arm, shoulder and leg from here clearly. Thick, red blood trickling down like rivulet.

"I'm sorry you have to see this. You are supposed to be the first clean kill if Maryann here hadn't miss the headshot." Paul apologized to the person with sincerity in his voice.

"I don't miss." Maryann, a tall, gorgeous brunette in her late fifties, appeared and corrected him whilst holding the FN Ballista sniper rifle with both hands. "One half millimeter adjustment of my rifle scope would have her brain decorating this filthy floor. I've done my part of the job as promised. If you want her to die you can kill her yourself, Paul." Maryann said as her eyes fixated on the disarmed person, the only person she had had trained, her apprentice, she refused to imbrue her hands in her blood.

Maryann's face remained neutral and inscrutable as she watched her, if there was a slightest feeling of guilt or remorse, Maryann wasn't showing it.

"Damn, you are tough." Paul Carson moved a step back after seeing the person struggled to stand up, despite the fact that he was protected by six armed men. And she was disarmed.

Jane Campbell struggled to support her body against the wall then moved her head up, the mere motion caused the nausea so intense that it overpowered the physical pain that was coursing through her body, the dim light overhead was blinding her eyes, coupled with the constant ringing in her ears.

Concussion.

From her head slamming into the ground when she was taking the hits.

Stupid, she thought. She panted as the previous moments played back in her head.

"Status report." Jane Campbell demanded, keeping her weapon trained on the building's entrance.

"Heat signatures confirmed seven targets in total at the far end of the building," Control replied, "the underground level is unclear, I'm unable to get a fixed reading. I can't send in the drone without being made."

"Is the information reliable?" Jane asked.

"Affirmative. The asset is in the building." Control confirmed. "Team is in position and awaiting orders, Captain."

"We secure the ground level then move in to neutralize the asset. No survivors. Go." Jane said flatly. The last single word triggered all other five team members emerged from their covers and went into action, her team converged at the entrance in a short moment.

"Pop it." She commanded calmly and a few seconds later the metal door popped open with a faint squeak. Jane could feel the familiar rush of adrenaline coursing through her body in anticipation of the kill.

The warehouse complex was a front owned by the Novak family, they were an up-and-coming gang in the city, until recently they started moving product without giving their cut. On the outside, it appeared to be an abandoned facility, but all illegal activities were conducted in the basement level, unseen. And according to the intel, they were transporting a considerably large amount of drugs tonight, large enough that Novak's son was supervising the transportation personally. Which was precisely why her boss had ordered this hit.