Hope City

Searl was running back to his dwelling to check his phone to see if there were any messages from his anonymous contact. Besides stealing priceless Rytorakk gems he had to earn his comfortable living somehow and there were some things only cold hard credits could get you. His anonymous contact usually gave someone for him to knock off or sometimes it was stealing something that someone or another found valuable. He didn't much care who he killed, what he stole or who he stole for. It was all just cold hard credits in his bank account to him. He supposed all bounty hunters had to slip into that mind sooner or later otherwise their conscience would tear them apart from the inside out and make them suffer from enormous guilt. Sometimes he wondered who the anonymous contact was. How had he/she learned about his life and why was he/she helping him? Why didn't he/she turn him into the police for his numerous felonies? These questions gnawed at the back of his mind constantly but he never let them bother him. He would lose focus and focus was something he needed for his job.

He looked down into the alleyway and saw two of the criminals back from the Plaza pursuing him. Evasive actions had to be taken. If he led them straight to his house then whoever was behind them -he had now doubt someone was behind them, random thugs wouldn't tear up the Plaza for no reason- could track him down if he/she hadn't done so already. Providing more ways for people to track him down would be the wost thing to do in this situation. He did have automatic defense systems at his house but he didn't really want to test them out. Though he was glad he had purchased those defense systems. They were the second best purchase had ever mad. The first one was Dally, the AI system for his house. Even though it emulated an ancient 21st century home it had all the standard living arrangements as any standard home.

He was about to find a place to stand so that he could get a good shot at them but the opportunity almost gave itself to him on a silver platter. Someone blocked the alleyway which meant that the criminals would have to stop briefly which would give him a chance to take another shot. He would assassinate the left one and then if the right one stood still he would assassinate him. He crouched right overhead the two criminals and as silently as he could took his sniper rifle out of its sling and aimed it at the left criminal. Before hand he remembered to put nose filters inside of his ears. A bullet shot this close would rupture anyone's eardrum. He then aimed it at the victim's heart, then shot after whispering "Bang". He had considered trademarking that saying just to get him extra cash but he had thought that when the less logical side of his brain had run rampant.

((Whoops! my bad.))

Just as the criminals stopped in front of him with a surprised look, a loud bang was heard and the one to the left collapsed in front of him. Jake hadn't considered that the Sniper might actually turn around and attack. If he shot the other criminal as well, he could kiss his interrogation goodbye. To prevent the Sniper from shooting another shot, and to prevent the criminal from attacking Jake, he grabbed a steam pipe on the side of the wall. Using the power of his prosthetic arm he ripped it in half, engulfing the two men in a gray world, where you could barely see your hand in front of you. This also hid both him hand the criminal from the Snipers view. Luckily his improvised mask protected him somewhat from the hot air. He jumped forward with his left arm extended, toward where he had last seen the criminal. His hand missed with inches, and as the criminal made a strike towards him, he managed to grab him by his wrist. Now he had to act quickly before he managed to break free of Jakes wrist. His right hand pushed two buttons on his PDA in quick succession. A text saying 'discharging' appeared on the screen, and moments later an electric current strong enough to knock the criminal out and disable any active biomods for at least a full day if he was lucky, a few hours if he was not, ran from Jakes arm into his victim. 'Power percentage: 10%' A text now said, before it had been 60%. The Steam was now starting to clear, revealing all the waste that filled the alleyway. In a few seconds the Sniper would see them again. He lifted the man up on his shoulder using his left arm again, which was now a little slower and weaker.

When the steam cleared, the alleyway was empty. Neither Jake or the criminal was anywhere to be seen, only a short line of steam which told that something moving really fast had left the area.

“Put—your hands—up!” A police officer shouted through a blow horn. Benjamin looked up from the mangled criminals and looked at the shouting police officer. “Step away from the bodies and put—your hands—up!” Benjamin cocked his head confused; he opened his mouth to speak, but before he could form words, the officer shot a few rounds at Benjamin, both of which he blocked with his steel arms.

“There’re no need to argue!” the same police officer shouted, dropping his gun in a condescending manner. “Just put your big—metal—arms—on—your—head!” Benjamin didn’t move, he just stared at the officer. Slowly, he scanned the row of police officers. He looked up, noticing the man hanging from the plaza roof.

He was sure there were more somewhere, he just didn’t feel like playing ‘Where’s Waldo?’ right now.

He knew all of the police officers; he knew they couldn’t shoot a fly. He knew this was all an act that they just wanted to act tough for the news stations. Benjamin could take them all; he could do it with a few swift punches. Their blood would be on his fists, and he could walk away a free man. All he would have to do is take a few—

“HOLD YOUR FIRE!” a booming voice shouted from behind the line of police officers. A tall man with a think grey mustache, and a maroon police uniform breached the line and approached Benjamin. He repeated his previous order, the line jumping with surprise each time. He stopped and eyes Benjamin with his cold, grey eyes. A pair of eyes Benjamin had remembered to be Captain Sanders’. A man he’d feared for years.

“Benjamin, what’re you doing, this isn’t like you?” Captain Sanders asked, with a voice so gentle, it almost didn’t look his. “I know you; this is the farthest thing that you are.”

“I was just protecting my property, Captain,” Benjamin answered with a frown. “I was being attacked, so I fought back; merely self defense.”

“You nearly killed a man—”

“I stopped, didn’t I?”

Captain Sanders frowned, his thick mustache furrowing on top of his lip. He didn’t seem to remember a Sniper was involved, so Benjamin didn’t bother bringing it up. One less man without problems tonight… he thought, and then Captain Sanders started talking again.

“We still have to take you in. Keep in a cell for a few days. Come on, follow me.” Benjamin frowned as images of all the criminals he’d put in jail flashed in his head. He’d never—not once—imagined that he’d be spending time in the same place he’d ended so many lives.

Nicholai entered the now-ruined plaza with a jump, opting to conserve his energy by hopping over the last of the walls instead of wrenching a new whole – he had already used up quite a bit from his mission. He didn’t want to be completely exhausted right when he came onto the battlefield. Slinking right beside a wall to a building, he pressed his body hard against it and turned it into a shimmering liquid for the briefest moment, letting him slip through. Peering from the inside of a shop, he could see that two of the criminals had escaped in the aftermath of a terrific rifle shot. The other two were being faced by a metal-armed commandant, who seemed content to ignore the police reinforcements that were there to arrest the criminals.

“With so many police here, I’ll have to keep to the side-lines...” he said aloud, happy to give himself a decent excuse not to get into the line of fire. Pressing both hands on the metal sheet that covered the entrance of this particular shop – sporting goods, by the look of the shadows – he concentrated on sending out his snakes for a second time that night.

His skin seemed to ebb and flow and twist and manipulate, writhing motions sensed underneath his loose clothing. His arm was soon covered in a mass of slithering black, shimmering one second, devoid of light the other, with only the barest glimpses of skin showing for the fraction of a second before it was engulfed once more.

He sent them out, all throughout the main square of the plaza where all the action was taking place. They moved with stealth and without a sound; his army of eyes. His closed his own eyes for a moment, and before long he saw a complete view of the battlefield. He siphoned through the visions until he found the right one, almost right behind the shopkeep who seemed to be effectively defending his house and home.

Two criminals, all one rough emotion, all one mass of rage...

One criminal, as if sensing what the other would do, shunned and placed his hand over his eyes...

The other opened his jaw, as if to scream, his mouth a shimmering mouth of metal, tooth-and-tounge-less, ready for... for what?

A blast of fire that erupted from his mouth answered his question, and Nicholai immediately backed away, blinking rapidly until he had his own set of eyes back, the blinding light still an after-image to his poor pupils.

“So they decided to play with fire...” he muttered, wondering how dangerous that would be to a regular crook, how someone could live without teeth, without a tongue, until it dawned on him that they were probably no ordinary set of crooks.

“The damn biomodders were probably ‘jected way beyond their capacity of two... But not even a blackmarket surgeon would willingly do that, would he...? Too easy to backfire... Too easy to lose his payment...” he said aloud, before snapping back attentively.

“P’raps I should let the police figure that one out,” he said with a shrug. It was a mere pique of curiosity – he didn’t give a damn if a gang wanted to kamikaze themselves to death.

He was just in it right now for the fun.

Closing his eyes again, he lifted up his arms as well, using his snakes’ vision to find a good, solid piece of metal... The steel door to the ruined shop. Yes, that would be perfect... Just perfect for what he was planning...

His arms balled into a fist, his arms readied themselves, one dropping, one rising, his feet spreading themselves as if in a stance, his whole body seemingly ready for a fist fight. Only his eyes were closed, taught with concentration. It would be harder to move with it not within his line of sight, but he was thankful that the door was at least within his range of magnetism.

One palsied left hand slowly creaked open, before crunching it into a fist once more...

Outside, a solid chunk of the steel door was broken loose, as if bitten down, ripped off with a resounding crunch...

One left hand, set around the waist, jabbed forward, ending with his fingers outstretched before closing his fingers in again...

The crumpled steel, now flat and compact, zoomed in at the assailant’s flaming mouth, closing it with a solid thump... It glowed a dull red, but that was all. It was there tight.

Nicholai opened his eyes and smirked knowingly: steel had a melting point of 1370 degrees Celsius. Closing his eyes, he looked through once more. He curiously wondered what so intense fire can do to a human brain... and smiled at the thought.

::Elia Rosewell::

Elia closed her blue orbs breathing in pleasure from the massage on her back. Her skin was soft and her expression betrayed no sign of concern even as Black consumed the man whole for his memories. From her smiling lips came a sweet sound of fragrant curiosity.

"hmmm...."

A rekindled flame of passion filled those soft blue orbs and she released a slight moan when the chair massaged her at just the right spot. Yes, there is always something going on in the city to keep her entertained. Even the nobody who just picked up Black's discarded envelop carried a silent promise to satisfy her desires.

With the command of a remote control, the major holograms vanished leaving only a room white on all sides and void of anything except her, her chair, her things on the glass table and the 2D projections of Malcolm humming pleasure at the potential of his new toys. All the while, Rosewell sat folding her fingers expectantly.

"3...2...1..."

And a holographic projection of Malcolm's head loomed over the room speaking with an odd synthesized voice.

"Elia, now whilst I appreciate the attention, especially with the upcoming election. I must remind you that I do not particular enjoy prying eyes during my working hours. You know full well I can pull the funding to all your... projects, in a heartbeat. Amongst other things I could also do, however you are useful to me in most cases and as such I will... let this prying slide, for today."

The intrusion halted and Elia quickly checked for any traces left behind.

"So that's how you've been tracking hackers..." Elia smile softly.

Finishing the last of her drink Rosewell simply let the glass slide off her finger falling to the ground. Yet the satisfying sound of shattering glass was never heard as colorful cubicles consumed its dimensions. Elia pulled on the string on her bath robes and stood up bare revealing only for a split second her soft, tender skin that had no blemishes of any kind.

In an instant, the same cubicals consumed her robes and replaced on her body a soft white dress and a large matching hat. She was no longer in the white room. Under her bare feet she could feel the soft blades of grass still slightly moist from the recent rain. Her palm rested gently on a large tree and her soft blue orbs gazed out to the horizon appreciating the rainbow that decorated the sky.

Turning to the still figure, a mere projection, beside her Elia leaned back against the tree and spoke in her usual soothing melodic voice.

"Oh Malcolm, you are so easy to predict. You researched my 'history' and found everything I scripted. You thought you knew the extent of my skills as a nameless hacker when you've only seen what I wanted you to see."

A cool breeze blew and Rosewell's gaze followed her hat into the sky. When she spoke again, a grave weight hung in the tone in her voice as she become unexpectedly serious.

"Yes, but this is all necessary...for your sake and for mine."

For awhile there was nothing but silence. Then she turned around with a sad smile and then a forced cheerfulneess.

"You and I, are really not that different. Until next time then."

Taking a step towards the cliff, Elia jumped off only to pass through an unnatural gateway in the air vanishing from view and back into reality. Her eyes returned and Elia was sitting in a white room on a massage chair from which the virtual world was built upon.

Since she injected herself with the biomod, her body had literally evolved into a one of a kind biomachine, a living computer with capabilities unimaginable by those in the military. In fact, the internal mechanics are so different that no modern machine are capable of connecting much less communicating with hers. Though her intellect, however, she is capable of manipulating the reverse and, using the advanced machinery and skills, hack into most if not all system. That was the true identity of Falcon, the phantom hacker, and the reason he was so untraceable.

Taking the visor off Elia's dreamy gaze dashed across the white room. Even with the neural accelerator installed in her brain it wasn't yet fast enough to keep up with the speed of her living computer forcing her to resort to AI, slave and parallel processing techniques. Running her fingers through her golden caramel blond hair, Rosewell scattered it backwards before standing up stretching. After all, minus the biomod, her body was still human and there were a number of things she was not willing to part with quite yet... even for the sake of efficiency.

She would have to rely on modern machines a little longer especially for demonstrating 'her limits'.

If this was an rpg game my stats should be...

Name: Elia Rosewell
Age: 22
Class: Scientist
HP: 30
Str: 2
Int: 1000
Specialty: Infinite Hack

She mused at the unrealistic idea silently finding pleasure in her own imagination.

"Jarred, boot system 24D98 into mainframe and reformat the current operating system. Recalibrate security level from AH2 to KQ6. I won't be expecting guests tonight."
"yes m'am."

While the AI reformatted the system, Elia strolled over to one side. There the floor opened and her bed elevated upwards into the room. Her hair seemed to have dried nicely and she loosened her bath robes leaving it on the ground while she climbed into the covers.

"Julia, once's today's data has been compiled and vaulted run the AOEHC-Scan and ready the report for tomorrow. And both of you cross check your partner's work before deleting yourselves from the system tonight."
"Understood."
"Oh, and check if there are any job requests (for Falcon)."
"Of course, they will be in the report tomorrow"

Searl was about to take the second shot when suddenly something he didn't expect occurred. The person blocking the alleyway ripped up a steam pipe and engulfed all of them in the giant cloud of heated water vapor aka steam. If not for his metal coating he would've been cooked alive. He still did feel a little warm though. Right as the steam cloud appeared he switched to thermal vision. The slight mental movement had become almost second nature to him. There had been so much stealth technology flooding the black market nowadays that almost anyone with a shady connection could get at least a small amount of stealth coating.

Enough to cover a person or make a suit out of. He silently thanked Hurst Van Green for putting that enhanced eye replacement biomod inside his system. Even though that little...well for lack of a better word thing was the cause of his attempted assassination he still had done some positive things to Searl's life. He may have hated the little sleazeball to death but he had him to thank for his current line of work. Without him he might have stayed as a kid in the slums and never realized his talents.

In his thermal vision he saw the person fighting with the criminal for whatever reason. He would have taken the shot right now. It didn't matter who he shot because the less witnesses to his work the better. If he shot the person then he would just shoot the criminal afterwards and vice versa. Unfortunately the two were moving too quickly for him to be able to get a clear shot in. If he shot and missed the ground they would realize that he could see through the steam and they would realize that he was more of a threat then they realized.

He missed his opportunity and the person who by that time had subdued the criminal had fled. He sighed slowly then slung his sniper rifle on his back and headed back to his apartment. When he got there he disabled the alarms and automatic defense measures so that he could get inside his nice comfortable abode. He went inside and before talking to his AI Dally, he went to a special 10 foot by 10 foot room in his house. This room was fitted with the most extensive sound proof coating he could have afforded. In the room he went down on his knees and disabled the skin override biomod. This sent him through excruciating pain as his body expelled the solid steel materials. He yelled extremely violently and afterwards little fragments of steel were left on the floor of the room.

He got back up and after taking some long breaths he said to Dally "Dally clean up the expulsion room immediately and clean my rifle as well." Dally replied "Yes Mr. Freeson is there anything else you wish of me?" in a soft feminine voice. Searl then said "Just one thing. Leave my gun in the master bedroom after cleaning. That will be all". He then placed his gun into a special slot in the wall. It slid down to the basement where Dally would clean the rifle before depositing it in his bedroom. He walked to the bedroom and checked the time. It read 5:21 pm. He decided he would sleep for another 4 hours before he checked his communications system for messages from his anonymous contact. He expected it would be a new target for him to kill. He wouldn't be surprised. Those were his last thoughts as he walked to his bedroom and fell asleep to wait for tomorrow's excitement.

T.C. woke up early in the morning from the pain in his body. After all these years he still wasn’t used to the pain when it came flaring up. He took some painkillers and walked to the bathroom.
A cold shower helped his body relax most of the times, and so did it this time too. He went back to his bedroom to check his cell. There were no new messages on it so T.C. took the briefcase, that was still standing in the corner of his bedroom.
He went to the central district to deposit his money on the bank. As always, T.C. used back ways and stayed most of the time in the shadows cast by the buildings. This was something T.C. still did, something he kept using even after he left the military.
His motto was: Stay unseen, move quickly and never leave a trace of yourself behind.

Living by this motto, T.C. was one of the best in his branch. Off course, if you have your own sources everywhere, it helps you a lot. And the money he earned was good. But anyone who would look at his house, would think he did a shitty job that didn’t pay him any money.
His house was situated in the middle of the slums where nobody cared who you are and what you do. And the only thing inside his house are a bed, a TV, a table, a chair and a bathroom.
He just didn’t care about luxury and thought people basking in it where show-offs.

As he was halfway to the bank a kid ran in to him, knocking him of his feet. The kid sprung on his feet, took T.C.’s suitcase and ran off with it.
T.C. scrambled back on his feet and ran after the kid. “What do you think you are doing?”
After running trough few alleys, he caught the kid. It was a seven year old girl.
T.C. had already pulled out one of his knives. “Where do you think you are going too?”
“Bring you right in my arms!” A gunshot could be heard and a bullet just graced T.C.’s left arm.
T.C. didn’t even flinch and turned around facing a hooded man. Still holding the girl in his hand. “And who may you be?”
“Just someone who has been hired to kill you Black Shadow.” The hooded man aimed his gun. T.C. didn’t wait for him to shoot him, he threw the girl in the direction of the man and jumped left.

The man pushed the girl to the side so hard that she slammed her head against a wall. You could hear her skull crack. But the hooded man didn’t care about it, he just aimed at T.C. and kept shooting.
“Why don’t you just die!” The man shouted with frustration as he kept missing T.C. by inches because he moved to slow.
T.C. jumped forward and landed right before the man. He quickly stabbed his knife into the mans heart. “Because you spent way to much time in the gym working on your muscles and forgot that it would kill your speed. Now who send you?”
“Someone who doesn’t want that his enemies can hire you.” The man coughed up some blood and then stopped breathing.
T.C. pulled his knife back and let the men drop on the ground. “That is almost everybody in this city.”

He then turned to the girl who was still laying on the ground, not moving one bit. T.C. sat on his knees and noticed the girl was still breathing. He took her up in his arms together with the suitcase and ran to the nearest hospital.
“She fell and has hit her head real hard. Help her out, money isn’t a problem.” He shouted to the nearest doctor. For some reason he felt responsible for this little girl.

It was hard to carry the thug through all the alleyways without being seen. It was even harder to move him on the usual roads, but the hardest part about it all must have been getting him to the roof of a 100 feet tall building. While waiting for the thug to wake up Jake looked around for something that would hold the thug in one place when he woke up, and he found a rope in a pile together with some boards. He didn't care about the boards, but he used the rope to tie up the thug and then he grabbed the thug by his wrist and twisted his hand. An alarming cracking sound could be heard, and the thug woke up screaming.

"Wake up! I've got questions and I'm running short of time." Jake whispered to the Thug, using a strangely kind tone on his voice, all the while walking up to the edge of the roof. As the thug opened his eyes he noticed where he was Jake kicked him in his stomach, sending him over the edge. He grabbed the rope that was lying on the roof before it followed the thug down. The thug was now hanging upside down at least 100 feet above the ground. Jake tightened his grip around the rope as the thug squirmed, as to not accidentally drop him. "If you don't stop moving, My arms energy will be depleted and it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what would happen to you.

"What do you want." The thug asked. "You to answer my questions. You'll have to answer quickly, because my arm only has 3% power left." Jake said calmly. "I'm guessing you couldn't fill your body with this many biomods yourself. So who DID!?" Jake said. Letting the rope slide for just a second in his hand as to frighten the thug.

Searl woke up from his long sleep and stretched his arm while yawning rather loudly. Dally then said to him "Good morning, master your rifle is cleaned to perfection. You have a message from ANONYMOUS CONTACT would you like me to play it for you." Searl then turned to the speakers and said "Yes would you Dally." He then heard the message being played over the speaker "Hello Switcher I have another hit for you. There is someone out there. He will be one of your more high-profile targets in fact I believe this will be your most high-profile assassination ever. You know the current person running for mayor Malcolm Chapel. Well someone wants him dead. For a large amount of money too. I want you to put a bullet through his skull. If you do I'll give you the amount of Rytorakk gems that are equivalent to 3 million credits. There is no specific time limit but no payment until I hear that he's dead and lying on the floor of his office."

After the message finished playing Searl gave a smirk before taking his sniper rifle and walking out out the door. He then made sure to turn on the alarms and defense systems for the house. He then changed his skin to the material that his gun was made of before heading out for Malcolm Chapel's office. He wasn't that difficult to find. He did own the most profitable legal biomod company in Hope City called MediTech Industries. Their slogan was "Bringing Good Health to All". Searl found that rather ironic as very soon Malcolm was going to be experiencing some particularly bad health.

Diagnosis: Death by assassination. Bullet through the skull to be precise. As he walked to the Central district -that was most likely the location as almost every major business was their- he made sure to stay out of site on the rooftops of the buildings in the town. As he saw the gigantic tower looming in the distance he slowly began to realize that this job would be the most difficult out of all of his jobs. There were several problems. One how could h get up to Malcolm's office. He couldn't just fight the entire way up. Malcolm was sue to have plenty of security guards in the building. Two if he got inside how exactly could he smuggle a sniper rifle up to the office and three how was he going to get a good shot in while still being sneaky. Yes those were extremely difficult puzzles indeed.