Retribution

Chapter 1

A bead of cold sweat begins to drip down my spine as I try to calm the slight tremor in my hands. My breathing is torn from my lungs with the hammering rush of adrenaline that spikes my veins. The ball of my index finger bounces gently on the trigger while my scope trails my prey. I cannot afford to fail this assignment - not for myself, and certainly not for those relying on me. My target tonight is of great importance and I know even the slightest of mistakes could cost me my life.

A dry breeze rolls over the dusty roads below me, raffling discarded beer bottles and scratched lottery tickets. The sun is setting, sending vibrant hues of color over the horizon. Everything I see is tinted yellow from my safety glasses and I am barely able to make out the conversation between my spotter and our third teammate from around my ear muffs. It's not of much importance to me; all I have to focus on is the target.

There is a problem, however. He isn't alone and I don't want to pay the price of killing more than targeted tonight unless it is necessary. A swarm of beefy bodyguards surround him and they roll in waves like a lazy seabed.

"Grim," My spotter waves a hand in my peripheral vision. I turn to look at him, letting my rifle relax against the sandbag I have placed for stability.

"How should we proceed?" I know he is including Mortum for a reason as I note his walkie-talkie is hissing quietly from some slight interference. I am the leader of our group, so it's not unusual for them to wait for my commands before jumping into action. However, I'm not very good with people - even with my best friends and comrades. I glance back through my scope and take note of the target's position change. Mortum is following him as best as she can in the crowded casino and Eagle looks at me with his binoculars hanging from his neck. Sighing heavily, I turn my attention back to Eagle and set in motion the plan I have forming in my mind.

"We all know I need to get Treloar alone," I begin, "But he isn't really helping with that, staying in such a crowded place. I guess I could go down there and use Dwyn or Malakai to take him out in close-quarters, but that puts me in a position to knock out his bodyguards."

I look at my Smith and Wesson and Glock as they sit patiently next to Jackal. I hardly ever use them, and for good reason too. While I am able to hold my own in a fight, no matter how many people I am fighting; I prefer to hide in the shadows and use Jackal to snuff out the assigned kills. It leaves less evidence that way and no witnesses on my account.

"It's way too crowded down here for a classic hit," Mortum's voice cracks over the radio. "We need to get Treloar somewhere secluded and away from possible complications."

I roll my eyes dramatically as I fidget with the settings on Jackal. She is just repeating what I already know. It is her way of helping and that I can understand, but I don't need advice from someone who's powers are to heal - not kill.

"What do you suggest we do, Mortum?" Eagle asks, glancing in the direction of the casino. With his own unique ability, he has no need for the binoculars. However, he insists on wearing them. I meet his gaze and take note of his flushed skin. He must be overheating. I reach down and toss him the water bottle I have been taking sips out of. Eagle fumbles for a moment and then splashes some of the water on his face before gulping it down.

"If it's okay," Mortum breathes, "I can lead him to a room facing you guys for a clean shot."

"You know as well as I do that you aren't fit to be bait, Mortum." I mutter, watching her blonde head bob in and out of the crowd. She is hard to miss with her almost-silver hair and wild pink streaks.

Everywhere she goes, people tend to stare. For our line of work, that isn't really a good quality to have. Some of us prefer the upfront route in assassinations while others like me prefer to slink quietly in the shadows. But Mortum has never actually killed anyone. She heals wounds and saves us from an untimely death over and over again. I just can't see her being a major factor in ending someone's life, even if it is an infamous drug lord.