Vigilante Work 2(Closed)

Making my way through the streets, I move silently, my hands stuffed in my pockets. My 'uncle' Rob had hooked me up with a few things since I'd saved his bar. I got free drinks, and he'd even found a way to signal me when the bar was full. This night, however was different. I was meeting a contact. I wasn't sure if they were going to be cops, but that's what Rob was for. He'd be watching anyone and everyone that comes and goes through the building. I wave to a few of the regulars as I enter, heading for the bar.

I smile at Rob as he puts a glass of whiskey down in front of the booth where my contact is. Whiskey meant that it was all clear, that the contact showed no signs of being involved with the police, along with the rest of the area. Taking up the glass I sit across from the client, smirking as I wait patiently for her to speak. I sip at my glass of whiskey as I stare at the blond girl with deep blue eyes.

"Excuse me... I'm meeting with someone." she said, frowning at me.

"I know. I was sent to speak to you. I'm here to listen to what you have to say to the boss. If I think they'll take the deal, I'll pass it along, and then they'll do the job. But I have to like what I hear to take it to them." I say.

(252/250)

"I've been receiving threatening death threats. Coming from Mazuho Kei. He's been threatening me and my boyfriend. My boyfriend's name is Nida Xian." she explained.

"You're dating Nida Xian, the prize fighter? I heard the two of them have a big match coming up." I respond, frowning.

"Exatly. That's why he's threatening me. So Xian will drop out. Please, I need your help! I need him to back off, and there's nobody that can do it but you. Three years ago Xian's sparring partner and childhood friend was killed by Mazuho. They were supposed to be going to a fight but Domotai was found dead in the park not far from here, his throat slit. Mazuho can't kill Xian, he'd be way too much at risk. It'd make a pattern. But if it happens to me... Then Xian will be grief stricken and will be having a hard time fighting... He's an emotional person. The cops wont move on Mazuho, because there's no proof." she explained.

It was a story I had heard before. Hell it was one I had lived through. Minus the prize fighter part, anyway. I nod at her and extend my hand toward her slowly. She looks at it for a moment and shakes my hand as she stares at me.

"You can call me Crane. I'm the City Hunter." I say, grinning.

"And you're sure you can get this job done? I mean is there any way you can prove it?" she asks as Rob comes over and sets a red martini glass.

My eyebrow quirks as I look at it and then turn to him as he nods, smiling as he walks away. I would speak, but a scream interrupts me.

(287/250)

I lean out of the booth slightly as I see a man with a switch blade, take a woman hostage. The front of Rob's bar is glass, like a cafe. It allows people to see in, and out. The problem was Rob was cheap when it came to his defenses. Sure he had a gun under the bar but it was an old, twin barreled hunting shotgun. Perfect for up close damage, but at the same time if he were to draw a gun and fire at anyone at the front of the store, the bullets would shatter the glass and hit the pedestrians. This is where I came in. I had learned several techniques in my time in black ops. Rising I reach into my long black trench coat. As my hand withdrew I raised the Adorned Pearl known as Tsuki. It was my favorite and only weapon. It packed way more power than a normal automatic bullet. It was designed to knock you off your feet if it didn't kill you. The problem was nine-times out of ten the bullet shot through you and went into a wall some twenty odd feet behind you.

"Now that's a good gun! Hand it over and I'll let this pretty little thing go!" he said.

This guy had taken his time to plan. He knew exactly what was going to happen. But as an operative you got used to being in uncomfortable situations. Whether it's resisting torture in an enemy prison camp, fighting gorilla forces in a humid jungle, or being forced to deal with things like this. Nobody enjoyed situations like this when they could be avoided.

"What are you gonna do, shoot me? Your bullet will hit the innocent people behind me." he said, releasing the hostage as he laughs and draws a gun.

"You're right. I can't just shoot you." I say, glaring at him.

(317/250)

I stare at him as I shift my stance, my left hand coming up, my fingers spreading as i shift my hand out in front of the barrel of my gun. I stare at him coldly as his eyes widen in terror. Pulling the hammer back I just grin, pulling the trigger. Blood platters from my hand as the bullet punches straight through. I watch as he hits the glass behind him with the force of a man tackled. I watch him hit the glass, and watch it crack under his weight as he slid down it. The gun falls away from his hand and I move toward him, kicking it away, before crouching beside him. Holstering my revolver I smirk darkly and pull a handkerchief from my pocket. waving it lightly to unfold it I pick his gun up and look it over. I notice the 'Replica' carved into the side of the barrel. No wonder he didn't pull the gun first.

Shrugging I put my gun away, and pull my badge and ID out, waving it around the room, to calm the people in the bar, and the people outside. I pull out a cell phone and press a few buttons, 'alerting' the emergancy crews. In reality it's just a pair of Rob's boys wearing coroner outfits. They took several pictures of the scene before zipping the body up and carrying it out to be disposed of. I'm not backed by big business. But rather a few good people I can trust with my life.

(257/250)

I didn't meet with the client again after that incident. I borrowed one of Rob's old hunting rifles for this job. The thirty calibur weapon was hidden in my jacket, a smirk on my face as I enter, with a newspaper in my hands. My eyes narrow as I stand there, the fight already begun. I watch Nida and Mazuho fighting. They're fighting in a boxing ring, the two of them wearing pads on their hands and feet to slightly soften the blow. But one could argue that they were worse with the strikes.

I glance around, my eyes looking over anyone that might stand out. In the highest security places, uniforms were for show. The real security didn't announce itself with anything other than a wary look and shirts loose enough to hide a gun. Even a big event like this was the same. Men standing around other important men, all wearing loose fitting suits with matching tie.

I sigh as I shift the em-nineteen-oh-three bolt-action rifle lifting it, hiding it under the newspaper. Anyone looking might think that I was just standing there. My eyes focus on my target. I wasn't about to let him lose this and then go after these two. I know how people like him work. I've lived with it my entire life. Flicking the saftey off I wait patiently. With the roar of the crowd as my cover I stand there, and pull the trigger just as Nida throws a jab. I see the bullet slam into the temple of my target, fragmenting as it was supposed to. At the same time Nida's jab hits,and I watch as Mazuho flys out of the ring, hitting a chair at an ackward angle. Anyone reviewing it would probably think he broke his neck or had cracked his temple on the side of the table. In sports like this people died. So most places filed for a gaming license to make sure they weren't liable for the death of a fighter. Slipping my rifle back into place, seeing the Client hugging her boyfriend as he's declared the champ.

Turning I walk from the building, turning the collar of my coat up, over my neck as I step out into the rain, walking away from the murder scene in disguise.

(383/250)

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