| From: | Avenger <Avenger@*******.DEMON.CO.UK> |
|---|---|
| Subject: | So the mighty fall |
| Date: | Wed, 24 Dec 1997 19:55:07 +0000 |
>>>>>[
+++++INCLUDE: VidCam Nakhit.vid
+++++Location: Bellevue
+++++Time: 19:23:13
Typical urban opulence spreads itself out comfortably, a distinct and
beautiful oriental garden with running streams, delicately placed stones
and gentle arching bridges over the water, subtle lighting enhances the
calm beauty of the area. All surrounded by a razor topped eight foot
wall. Sealed within it's own compound the house itself seems slightly
out of place (american stone built colonial) amongst the gentle grandeur
of the oriental garden. Several cars parked at the entrance announce
that somebody is at home.
A small hand held device appears momentarily, moving in an arc before
the camera wearer. Twice the needle jumps and a small led flashes. A
panel slides from the main housing, offering a plan view of the
property.
"Hmm standard motion detectors, one laser initiator," a soft Irish lilt.
Two lit sections near a red dot reflect the signal picked up by the
device, a green intersecting line offers what would be a logical safe
path between the sensors.
Running forward, somersaults over the interesection, gaining impressive
height in the process, and landing softly several feet on, motionless
watching for any signs that the movement has been spotted. Closer to
the house now, three guards walking the perimeter, relatively casual in
their movements, they do not appear to be expecting trouble. One side
of the house, covered with an immense climbing rose seems to offer cover
and access.
"Roses, how suitable, shame they're not in flower."
Some time passes as the wearer waits for the guards to make their
circuit, counting gently under his breath. "Such arrogance." The wearer
moves, fast, unbelievably fast, covering the ground between his current
position and the house in a ludicrously short time. Voices can be heard
faintly, Japanese. The climbing rose slides by until the corner of the
house is reached. The trespasser is counting again. Two figures stand
on the rear stoop of the house, facing two sitters talking quietly. One
target is identified, Heihachi. The others remain unidentified.
The roses slide by again, as the count nears the time when one of the
patrolling guards will show. Dark crimson clad arms wearing reinforced
gloves reach forward, and using the trellis and rose stems for support
climbs the wall.
Securing a grapple to the ridge tiles, a slender silk rope is dropped to
the balcony at the front of the building. The windows are period
secured electronically and manually with iron turners. A complex device
is stuck to the window, and switched on. A few seconds later, the small
display stops flickering to an audible click as the window swings open.
A long crimson clad leg slides into the opening, faint shine of silver
flecks glitter from the external lighting. The bedroom revealed in the
soft back glare is comfortably furnished. Expensive oriental ornaments
and classic paintings decorating the floor and walls. Opulent in a
subtle style, speaking of money and taste. Two ancient bonsai sit near
the window. The bed is expansive, covered in silk, obviously
comfortable. The crimson hand reaches forward, gently placing a black
rose and ornate filligree silver clasp on the pillow.
Slowly cracking the bedroom door - inspecting the hallway. One guard at
the end of the hall, near the sweeping staircase. Two more downstairs
near the rear door, facing out. The door opens further a small box shape
is tossed below a security camera, and the guard is suddenly real close.
Events happen too rapidly to follow clearly, but a flash of silver, a
soft sickening sound, and the guard is down. Almost in total silence, a
faint gurgle the only revealing noise. The hilt of a fine dagger
protruding from the rear of the guards skull. Spinal cord severed and
brain mashed, quick, quiet, and requiring considerable skill and
strength.
Walking to the end of the hallway, pausing at another door. Two steps
back, and a leg appears, pile driving the door, smashing it off it's
hinges. At the same moment, a small egg shaped object is smashed on the
floor, producing a thick red smoke.
"Nakamura - you have been judged guilty and sentenced to death." The
oriental looks up as the door smashes to the floor, grabbing for a gun,
several sheafs of paper lay scattered across the desk. A reflection in
a mirror reveals a tall figure, dressed in black and crimson, a strange
glittering, as if dusted in particles of silver covering the body suit
and equipment belt. The vicious crimson and silver mask looks like
something out of an expensive horror movie. Nakamura's mouth opens, and
is filled with a crossbow quarrel. Pain streaks across his face.
Another quarrel embeds itself in his left shoulder, followed by another
in his right shoulder. A gurgling squeel starts to make it's way out of
his throat, choked with blood, it fails to much more than a weak
exhalation of air. The assassin reloads one of his crossbows, raises it
and plants a quarrel between Nakamura's fear glazed eyes. The oriental
slumps onto his desk. The whole incident has taken slightly more than
one second.
Rapidly tying slim wire to the ends of the quarrels, the assassin uses
his crossbow to drive a piton into the wall and attaches the end of the
cabling to it. Picking up the dead body and hurling it through the
window, the wire snaps taut to cries of alarm outside.
Moving rapidly back through the house, two more egg shaped objects
strike the groundfloor below, creating flashes and more red smoke.
Moving rapidly back through the house, out the window of Heihachi's
room, and over the balcony to the grounds in front of the house,
whatever guards were there rapidly making their way to the back where a
full scale war appears to have started. Running to the shade of the
shallow garden. The assassin pauses momentarily to check for pursuit,
there is none - yet. He pulls a small weapon from his belt, aiming it
at the cars parked in the curving drive. Fires, and an explosion wrecks
one vehicle, reloading, he fires again, a second car bursts into flame,
the resulting explosion picking it up and tossing it on top of another
car. Less care is taken exiting than entering the property. Another
silk rope, grey this time hangs from a pylon supporting the wire on the
enclosing wall. Climbing the rope, the assassin pauses at the top of
the wall looks back at the chaos. "Shame they weren't in flower." The
soft Irish brogue shows no sign of tension, or exertion.
+++++End Include.
To your satisfaction I trust.
It might have been better to have taken Heihachi tonight. He will not
be so easy to get to again.]<<<<<
-- Urbanus <19:45:32/12-24-58>
