| From: | Frank Pelletier <jeanpell@****.IVIC.QC.CA> |
|---|---|
| Subject: | Two down, one to... oh frag... |
| Date: | Wed, 11 Feb 1998 22:43:01 +0000 |
>>>>>[66% satisfying to ya?
Shit... First two targets were easy kills. Bullet to the head for the
first, Burst to the chest and head for the second. No security I would
consider tough, so they both went down with minimal fuss.
The third one. I don't know... I went in without checking the muthafucker
out. Did you send me against some high lord or somethin'? Security out
the ass, magical defenses, cybered-up wireboys as bodyguards, the works.
I almost got caught there. I had to run, I had no choice. The bastards
would've got me if I stayed.
Fuck...anyways, here's part of the footage...
+++++Start Archive (Hit-114-A)
Multiple lines form a dim image of the surronding woodland, obscured by a
reddish sun, dying against the horizon. The lines merge into a better definition,
contours and contrast gaining in sharpness.
A small hill, perched alongside what seems to be a quaint country road.
Several ranch-style houses hug the cobblestone street, grass mounds housing
tens of flower beds. The image stops for a second, looking down on a
basic rifle, scope attached, covers off. The scope melds with the image,
becoming one, now seeing the world through a lens, black crosshairs
criss-crossing the vision.
The image moves around, up and down the road. Only the sound of birds
chirping and nature slowly dancing under a soft breeze break the deadly
silence, the time surprisingly sunny for a normally damp and cold Pacific
winter.
The image moves quickly to the left. Four forms define themselves. Three
of them are non-descript, elven men in what appears to be grey jumpsuits,
armed with what seems to be SMGs. One of them, in the middle, seems to
breath in the winter air, walking in a purple cloak, with a gold pin
hugging it tight around his neck, and a blue suit, seen through the thick
velvet lappels. The two black lines come to rest on the lead elf's head.
Darkness comes suddenly. Scope and view seperate at once, the crosshairs
gone, the sniper on the ground. Anything beyond that is total blackness,
an impenetrable void. The vision changes, with a little flicker. Greenish
hues fill the view, but still, nothingness prevails. Another flicker.
Dim, red shapes can be seen, climbing the hill. Another red spot appears,
and tracks down the leading shape. One, two, three gunshots are heard.
The lead shape stumbles, tries to get up. A fourth one echoes through the
woods. The red mass fades, folds into a small ball where it once stood.
More shapes can be seen, the vision looks around, opposite the hill.
Images fly by, blueish branches whipping about, the vision unstable.
As quick as it disappeared, light comes. The same dusky pink, the same
quiet forest. Looking back, a huge, black form still swirls in place.
Sounds and voices coming from inside. The vision runs, trees blurring by,
barely a misty reflection of themselves. The voices are farther away, but
the vision doesn't look back. Voices are nothing now, a fading memory, but
still, the vision moves.
+++++End Archive (Hit-114-A)
As you guessed, they either were fraggingly fast, or they were waiting for
me. I hooked up with a couple of contacts of mine here in Portland, near
the wall. I should be out and back in Seattle by Friday. Until then, you
can contact me through this account, it's secure. Frag. I can probably
hook me up with some gear, and try another pass at the fraggin' freak.
Frag it... You gots 'til Friday to give me a go-ahead, or I'm back in
Seattle.]<<<<<
-- Haze <22:54:04/02-11-59>
