Mistrunner 2 - Chapter 20 - Nothing Worthwhile is Ever Free (Patreon)

After…I did what I did, I had to call in a lot of markers in order to take control of the Specters. Even then, my grip was tenuous at best. I’m not sure if it was worth it.

Nora Lancaster

I switched identities twice more on my way to Gunther’s Guns. No one had followed me, at least as far as I could tell, but I knew assuming things like that was a good way to get killed. So, every few blocks, I ducked into an alley before adopting a new persona. When I emerged, I was a new person altogether. By the time I reached my destination, I felt almost certain that I didn’t have a tail. Even so, I swiftly turned down a new alley, activated Stealth, and waited a few minutes to make sure I hadn’t been followed.

My efforts were proven unnecessary because, even twenty minutes later, I was all alone.

Once I’d established that I hadn’t picked up a tail, I took on yet another persona – this one fairly close to my own appearance, though with much lighter skin and far straighter hair – before heading into the arms dealer’s premises. The two cyborgs at the door – neither of which were Dierdre – didn’t even glance at me on my way in, though I wasn’t certain if that was because they still recognized me despite my usage of Mimic or if they just didn’t see me as a threat. Either way, my entrance was unimpeded, and once I found my way to the familiar lobby-slash-armory, I sent a message to Gunther, telling him that I had arrived.

With that done, I took a moment to wander around and investigate the décor. There were a few others around, but none of them paid me any mind. I was more than okay with returning that favor. I didn’t need to know them, and I certainly didn’t want them knowing me. I was content in my anonymity, and not just because it was smart. I’d quickly come to realize that I just didn’t like attention, especially from strangers.

I was busy inspecting a pair of dueling pistols hanging from the wall when Gunther approached, saying, “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

I was past questioning how he always recognized me. It had to be a skill. Or perhaps an item. Either way, it was a grim reminder that my own abilities weren’t infallible. If he could see through Mimic, then others could as well. Of course, Gunther had power on par with my uncle’s, so I couldn’t believe the situation would be a common one. Still, I needed to be on the lookout for people who might be able to see past my skills in deception.

“I need to talk business,” I said without turning to look at him. “Can we go somewhere private?”

He nodded, saying, “Follow me.”

As I did, I couldn’t help but notice that he was once again wearing one of his leather suits. With Observation, I could tell it was the real stuff, too. None of that faux leather that was so common in the city. Not surprising, considering his penchant for hunting and his obvious wealth. Clearly, he had the resources to get as much leather as he wanted.

Over the next couple of minutes, I followed him through his compound and to an elevator that took us to his private office. Once we were inside, he gestured to an overstuffed couch, saying, “Have a seat. Want a drink?”

I shook my head. Even if alcohol wasn’t practically useless on me, there was no way I would ever take a drink from someone I didn’t trust. Which meant that I’d never take one from anybody. Maybe Patrick, but even that was stretching it. I’d heard too many stories about people who’d done so and lived to regret it. The last thing I needed was to take a sip from some unknown drink only to wake up with a slave implant and a new master who wanted to put me to work on Bourbon Street.

“Suit yourself,” he said when I declined. Though he did cross the room to a bar, grab one of the crystal decanters, and pour himself a glass. Once that was done, he sat across from me and asked, “So, what can I do for you?”

“I need to get into Lakeview,” I said.

“Why?” was his question.

“You really need to know that? Can you get me in or not?” I asked. I had no intention of revealing my plans to Gunther. For one, I was playing my cards close to my chest, and I knew that the more people who knew a secret, the more likely it was to get out. For another, I didn’t altogether trust Gunther. He’d already sold information to me, and I couldn’t help but imagine a situation where someone would pay to hear my secrets as well. No – it was best if he didn’t know.

“Maybe,” he said. “But I need two things.”

“What do you want?”

“First,” Gunther said, holding up one finger. I noticed he had rings on each digit, excluding his thumbs, and they were all gaudy, shiny things. “I need to know that you’re not going to turn the place into a warzone.”

“Why would you think –”

“I’m not blind, girl,” he said. “Nor am I stupid. You come here with an axe to grind, and suddenly your uncle’s old tribe is at war with the Cyberdogs? This whole district is about to boil over, and I think you’re the cause.”

I embraced my Arsenal Implant, ready to arm myself in an instant. More, I was already probing Gunther’s cyber defenses. I withdrew my awareness the moment I saw how complex they were. He’d clearly taken precautions against people like me. Still, if he was a threat, I felt that a few rounds from my R-14 assault rifle would be enough to cut him down to size.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” he said. “You attack me, and you’ll be dead before you reach the lobby.”

“You sound pretty confident,” I said.

“Because I am,” he stated. Then, he smiled broadly, revealing a gleaming smile. One of his teeth was encased in gold. “Besides, we’re friends right? No need for things to get violent.”

“I’m not going there to start a war,” I said. “But things might get messy.”

“Messy, I can deal with,” he said. “Disastrous might be a bigger problem.”

“In and out,” I said. “That’s my goal. If I have my way, nobody will ever know I was even there.” When he didn’t immediately respond, I asked, “So, what’s the second thing?”

He shook his head, then said, “A favor.”

I raised a single eyebrow, asking, “What kind of favor?”

“Nothing outside your ability,” he said. “I just need someone killed is all.”

“What? Why?” I asked, a little taken aback. I was a killer; I knew that. But I wasn’t an assassin, especially not one for hire. “And why me? You seem to have plenty of firepower at your disposal.”

“The why is my business,” Gunther said. “And my employees are well known and ill-suited to the task. It requires subtlety, a trait sorely lacking in Dierdre and her people.”

I nodded. That made some sense. Dierdre and the other cyborgs seemed perfectly capable of leveling a building, but a stealth mission probably wasn’t really in the cards. For a man like Gunther, it was probably easier to hire that kind of job out, rather than nurture an assassin. My uncle had done something similar when he’d founded his tribe, though he’d been a little more hands-on than Gunther seemed to be.

“You say it’s within the scope of my abilities,” I said. “How do you know that?”

To answer that question, Gunther sent a parcel of information through our unsecured connection. When I opened it, an ability description came across my HUD:

True Sight (C) – Allows user to detect another’s class, skills, abilities, and level. Viability based on Mind and Mist attributes.

My jaw dropped. That ability seemed incredibly useful, and I could already think of a hundred situations where it would have helped me out. My uncle had often said that information was a soldier’s best weapon, and True Sight was the ultimate in information gathering abilities. With it, I could have saved myself a ton of trouble.

“What skill is that ability from?” I asked.

He grinned. “Now, you don’t really expect me to reveal that, do you?” he asked. “Suffice it to say that one of my skills makes me the best-informed person in any room. And with it, I can tell that you have everything you’ll need to successfully complete the mission I have in mind. Kudos, by the way. You are very advanced, given your age. I look forward to seeing how powerful you can become. Of course, there’s the caveat that you need to stay alive if you’re going to realize said potential, but I’m sure Jeremiah taught you how to do just that. Combat capability is not just about skills and abilities, right? It’s about knowledge. It’s about training.”

I couldn’t really disagree with him.

“And if I do this, you’ll get me into Lakeview?” I asked. “Quietly.”

“That’s the deal. Do you agree?” he asked, and I nodded. Then, as he handed me a chip, he went on, “Then here. Slot that. It has all the information you’re going to need to do the job. Once it’s done, I’ll get you into Lakeview. But before you go, you might want to invest in a new wardrobe.”

I nodded. I already knew that I’d have to eventually go shopping, and it seemed that my lacking options had finally caught up to me. Lakeview was an affluent district, after all. If I went there in my normal clothes, I’d draw the wrong kind of attention. And given what I intended to do, that would derail my whole plan.

“I’ve already got some ideas for that,” I said, slotting the chip in the side of my neck. Immediately, a file appeared on my HUD. First, there was a photo of a handsome man with slicked back hair and a beard that had been cut into a series of lightning bolt patterns. The file named him Alistair Wallace. “Anything I need to know? How quiet do I need to be? Or am I good to go loud?”

Another grin spread across Gunther’s face, and he said, “More than a whisper, less than a shout, my dear. So long as there’s no collateral damage, I will be satisfied. All I require is that you confirm the kill.”

“Gotcha,” I said, continuing to read the file. Alistair Wallace wasn’t really anyone special – just a low-tier arms dealer who moonlighted as a smuggler. I assumed that he’d either stolen from or taken some of Gunther’s business. Either way, I didn’t see anything that made me want to rethink the contract. Wallace wasn’t out-and-out evil, but he definitely wasn’t a good guy, either. According to the file, he was suspected of dropping at least a dozen bodies in the past few years, some of whom were civilians.

He was also complicit in human trafficking, which was enough of a decider all on its own. More, it reminded me that I needed to take some time to head to Bourbon Street and rescue Heather. She and I had never really gotten along, but it was mostly because, back then, I’d been a little brat who resented her for monopolizing my uncle’s time. Now, though? I could recognize that she’d done everything she could to be my friend.

And now she was stuck in a seedy Bourbon Street brothel called Heaven and Hell. I couldn’t in good conscience leave her there. By all rights, I should have already taken care of it. My only excuse was that I had a lot on my plate, and I just hadn’t had time to do anything more than what I was doing.

I nodded to Gunther, saying, “I’ll do it.”

“Good, good. I knew you’d see it my way,” he said. “While you work on that, I’ll start putting together your new identity. I’m assuming that Mimicskill will let you take on any appearance?”

That last comment was less of a question and more of a not-so-subtle reminder that he knew all my secrets, right down to my ability names. I couldn’t help but wonder where the limits of True Sight lay.

“So long as I meet them, yeah,” I said. “But I can’t just see them on a recording.”

“That won’t be a problem,” he stated. He gestured to the door, adding, “Unless there’s anything else?”

I shook my head, and without any further conversation, left the room. I remembered my way out, so it wasn’t long before I’d left Gunther’s Guns behind. My target’s place of business was located on the other side of the Garden, so I wasted no time before ducking into an alley and summoning my Cutter. In moments, I was rocketing through the streets. This time, I didn’t go through the blockade; I knew just how busy the area probably was after what I’d done, so I chose to skirt it instead.

Like that, I made my way across the platform, and within thirty minutes – most of which was wasted with me stuck in traffic – I found the appropriate building. It was a three-story structure that sat on the corner of a lot that had once housed a megabuilding. That particular block had been clear for as long as I could remember, but its original purpose was made obvious by the former occupant’s footprint. There were a dozen other buildings that had taken its place, one of which belonged to Alistair Wallace.

I was tempted to attack it head on, just belting out a few dozen rounds from my BMAC with the intention of demolishing anything in the area. However, I knew just how much negative attention that would bring, so I decided to be a little less obvious about it.

During the course of my trip across the city, I’d gone back and forth about whether to leverage my [Mistrunning] talents to infiltrate the building, much as I had in the Tiger stronghold back in Mobile. That had the benefit of being about as quiet as an assassination could get. I could sneak in, set myself up in the appropriate place, and then assassinate the target before fleeing. All the while, no one had to know what had even happened.

But on the negative side, that option would be slow, and it could end up taking most of the day, probably stretching into the night. I wasn’t sure if I had time for that, considering how much I needed to get done.

The other alternative would see me setting up somewhere where I’d have a clear line of sight, waiting for Wallace to come out into the open, and disintegrating his torso with a well-placed sniper shot from my Pulsar. The disadvantage of that option was that, once the deed was done, there was every chance of pursuit. It was still unlikely, given that I would set myself up a good distance away, but it was still a risk.

However, it was one I was willing to take, because I’d already decided to go with the second option. To that end, I quickly crossed the street and ducked into an alley before dismissing my bike. After that, I changed appearances and slipped back out into the flow of pedestrians. A couple of minutes later, I found my way to my destination.

The tenement wasn’t quite as tall as a megabuilding, which meant that it probably didn’t have the same levels of security. More importantly, so long as I got on the roof, I’d have a clear line of sight into Wallace’s compound.

To that end, I quickly entered the building through the front door, ignoring the addicts who’d stationed themselves near the stairs. A couple of them noticed me, but none moved. I wouldn’t have been surprised if they were just squatting in the lobby, which was dirty, unmanned, and poorly lit.

I crossed the lobby to the stairs, then commenced my climb. Every now and then, I ran into another addict or a descending resident, but nobody paid much attention to me. Why would they? I kept my head down, and I was dressed just like everyone else, so I looked like I belonged. That, as much as anything else, told me that, if I intended to head to the higher platforms, I needed a new wardrobe. Otherwise, I’d stick out like a sore thumb.

I reached the top of the stairs without issue, and soon, I had burst through the door, finding myself on the roof. Studded with various ducts and air conditioning units, the roof looked little different than any other I had seen. But I wasn’t there for the décor; rather, all I cared about was its sightline, which, when I reached the edge, I confirmed was absolutely perfect.

Wallace’s building was a good distance away – maybe a thousand yards – but with Observation and the powerful scope attached to the Pulsar, that distance would amount for nothing. So, after extending the bipods from the weapon’s barrel, I set it on the ledge and took aim.

Like that, I waited, watching for my target to make an appearance. According to the file I’d been given, he usually left the office at around this time, so I only had to be patient. And as luck would have it, he made an appearance a little more than half an hour later.

He looked little different than he had in the photo. The same slicked-back hair, artfully arranged beard, and a shiny suit that made him look like he was trying way too hard. None of that mattered, though. All I needed was a clear shot and a positive identification. I had both.

So, I lined the reticle up with his chest, activated Empowered Shot, and two seconds later, squeezed the trigger. A millisecond later, his entire torso exploded into a fiery conflagration of superheated Mist, blood, and charred flesh. The two mooks that I took to be his bodyguards reacted quickly enough, but Wallace’s body was gone before they even knew what had happened. So, too little, too late.

My job was done.

Now, I just had to hope Gunther would hold up his end of the bargain. If he didn’t, well, I had a lot of bullets. And I hadn’t really seen what the BMAC could do to a building. Either way, I felt like I was making at least some progress. It was slower than I would’ve liked, but at least I was moving forward.