| From: | "Paul J. Adam" <Shadowtk@********.DEMON.CO.UK> |
|---|---|
| Subject: | Tacoma Hit |
| Date: | Tue, 1 Sep 1998 23:36:27 +0100 |
>>>>>[TO: Captain R A Jones
Captain, this is what Andy gave us from the meeting with Kuo. As good as
we'll get...
+++++begin video
Marlowe's fellow diner is a bulky Korean male, shaven-headed, heavy-
jowled, his ample bulk filling his superb suit well. Two bodyguards are
ostentatiously unobtrusive nearby.
"Mr... Marlowe." The Korean evidently doesn't feel up to the job of
pronouncing 'Kryzdanovich'. "I'm sure you've done some background
research into my problems."
"You started a turf fight with Luigi Bartolo. It's turned nasty because
he's got some .90 calibre hitman working for him and you're outclassed."
"Correct." Chung Kuo nods. "I wish to know who that person is, so I can
let a contract for his death."
"You know it's a he, then?"
"I'm informed so by survivors. This person has posed us some
difficulties and considerable costs. Business has been seriously
disrupted, and Bartolo is resisting our incursions too well." The Korean
waves away the menu the waitress offers him. "Just more Scotch for me, I
cannot linger, but my guest should enjoy this house's finest." The
waitress takes Marlowe's order, bustles off.
"Hazardous work." Marlowe replies. "Tracking a killer who doesn't want
to be found..."
Kuo names a sum. A large sum. He must be badly worried.
"And I'll earn it, too." the PI sighs. "Okay, what have we got?"
"Three raids. Each by one man, the same man. Around six feet tall,
human, dark hair, pale skin, black duster. Uses a pistol, nothing more,
so far. Very precise shooter, usually kills with two rounds to the
chest, sometimes a third to the head. Rarely more. Very fast, so fast
that his are almost the only shots fired." Kuo sighs.
"He has attacked two chip houses, both at collection time, and cost me a
great deal of money. At the first he stole the chips, at the second he
destroyed them. He also attacked and destroyed a crackle lab, killing my
best chemist and destroying the lab and its stock. A persistent and
capable nuisance, and one beyond my means to deal with."
"A cybervigilante." Marlowe replies. "A guy that good isn't usually
knocking off dealers... that gives me some leads. Do you have anything
else?"
The Korean hands Marlowe a disk and a credstick. "Witness reports, a few
frames from our security cameras, what police reports we could acquire.
I can pay you a quarter up front, the rest if you have a name for me
within a week. The amount will fall rapidly after that. I cannot sustain
these losses for long, nor can I afford to be strong enough everywhere
to stop this man."
"I'm on it. Should have a first pass for you in forty-eight." Marlowe's
first course arrives, and Kuo levers himself upright.
"Enjoy your meal, Mr Marlowe. I look forward to hearing from you." One
bodyguard leads, the other follows, as the rotund Korean leaves the
restaurant: his car (a silver Nightsky) already pulling up outside.
Marlowe is just setting to work on his food (tiger prawns pan-fried in
garlic and olive oil, served on ciabatta bread... or a very good
impersonation thereof - the bread looks real, the prawns look like well-
dressed mycoprotein) when movement outside, on the sidewalk, catches his
eye: as Kuo is easing his bulk into the open door of the Nightsky's
passenger compartment, one bodyguard falls sideways: the other is
turning and bringing a weapon out of his coat before he, too, is flung
to the ground. All in silence, the restaurant's double-glazed windows
muffling any noise.
The Korean, caught half-in half-out of the car, and handicapped by his
girth, has time to raise his hands in appeal and say something before
half-a-dozen bullets hit him. The shooter is barely visible as he
advances to check his handiwork, pausing to reload his pistol... then
disappearing from view.
Start to finish, less than five seconds.
Marlowe recovers from his surprise to grab his pocket secretary and hit
the PANICBUTTON: throughout the restaurant, others are doing the same.
That done, he pulls his PI licence out and holds it in view, advancing
carefully towards the door.
One bodyguard is lying on her side, clutching her chest and gasping for
breath: though her armour may have stopped the rounds, she's badly
winded. The other, who almost got his shotgun out from under his jacket,
got a third round in the head. Small, neat entry wound just below one
eye, stellate exit with what the medics will doubtless call
"considerable loss of tissue".
Kuo lies by his car, the four bloodless holes in his shirt showing where
his body armour absorbed those bullets... and two more messily bleeding
entry wounds in forehead and jaw. Either would have been lethal. Both
are definite overkill.
The driver's door is open, the seat empty: the driver evidently decided
discretion was the better part of valour.
Marlowe turns, to see the other people who'd been on the street
recovering from their surprise and beginning to crowd forward. He moves
at once to herd them back from the bright scatter of brass cases, where
the killer fired from: useful evidence, not to be trampled or taken home
as a souvenir. Though he's calling "Private investigator!", his tone
carries a weight that gets the crowd edging back.
+++++end video
He kept the thundering herd at bay until the first cruiser arrived.
Same shooter, same weapon - a 9mm SIG-Sauer automatic - loading the same
147-grain jacketed hollow points. The wounded bodyguard's okay apart
from cracked ribs, but she didn't see jack, facing the wrong way and got
two rounds in the back. The driver vanished, no sign, gone for good.
We got about a dozen witnesses in the street and the restaurant, but not
much more of a description than Kuo had: the killer was leaning against
a wall reading something for a while, then he turned, started walking
just as Kuo came out, drew the pistol and started shooting. Descriptions
range from five-eight to six-four, Human, Ork or Elf, and can't even
agree what colour his skin was.
My guess is, he's a pro. Knows how to be invisible, wired up tight,
skilled enough to use an old, disposable pistol that'll probably turn up
somewhere that incriminates a rival. Not typical Barrens talent.
In which case, why use such a heavy hitter? He's got to be expensive, so
who's putting up the money for him?
This bears a closer look.
Andy's guess is that Kuo gave himself away by too much preparation for
the meeting: he had his muscle check the place over a couple of hours
before the meet, signalling that he might visit. Or maybe the shooter
just trailed the car. Either way, Kuo's part of Puyallup's lost its
leader and Bartolo's boys are muscling in hard. He's getting to be quite
a serious contender now.
Bartolo, of course, was renewing his driver's licence at the time of the
killing, airtight alibi: he knows and we know that he was involved, but
we can't pin anything on him.
On the bright side, at least our hitman likes to be neat. The usual
protocol for that sort of assassination involves a drive-by hosejob or a
car bomb, not a pistolmeister firing less than a dozen rounds.
You want us to chase this one or not?]<<<<<
-- DSgt J Hart-Kryzdanovich <23:36:42/09-01-59>
Lone Star Security Services (Seattle)
