Merciless
1
Mercy peered through the scope, frowning as nothing came into sight. “You’re sure Haine was meant to come this way?” The streets were empty, unused.
“Yep.” Zane said unenthusiastically. “That’s what the boss said.”
“I’m not seeing anyone.” Mercy let out a long breath, forcing her hair out of her eyes. She pulled away from the scope and peeked back at Zane. His brunette hair was mussed purposefully and his hand cupped carefully around an unlit cigarette. “Zane, we’re on a mission here. Couldn’t you be a bit more professional?”
He took a deep drag off of his cigarette, eyeing Mercy carefully. “Relax. It’s not a mission; we just got a tip off.” He blew out a stream of silver smoke.
“I couldn’t care less if it’s only a tip off, this is still a mission!” Mercy snapped. “Professionalism is mandatory.”
“You just need to relax, Shaw.” Zane chuckled, blowing smoke at her. Mercy waved it away irritably. Zane was her friend, but at times like these she wanted to wrap her hands around his throat.
With this thought sitting in her head, she adjusted her latex gloves and continued to glower at the younger brunette boy. “I’m sure my father would have agreed with you wholeheartedly.” Mercy growled, dipping her head to peer yet again into the scope.
Zane didn’t say anything. Mercy pulled back yet again from the scope and gestured for Zane to have a look. He plucked his half smoked cigarette from his lips and dropped it to the ground. Mercy watched him step on it as he approached the sniper. He bent easily and searched the scope before coming back up. “There’s nothing down there, Shaw. I suggest we pack up and leave.”
“We’ll wait a bit longer.”
“What would he be doing here in the first place?” Zane looked out over the empty streets. This side of town had been evacuated for months. “Shouldn’t he be in a hospital, ruining children’s dreams the moment they’re squeezed from the womb?”
Mercy chuckled and looked over the abandoned streets as well. “I suppose Haine’s life is about more than dream smashing.” Her harsh eyes traveled the cracked concrete sidewalks. “He also must find ways to ruin the lives of his more resilient citizens.” Mercy looked at Zane, whose eyes were still cast away from her. He brought a hand up to sweep his hair away from his eyes. “You should cut your hair. The longer you let it out, the more obvious you become.”
“Who are you, my mother?” Zane laughed, looking up at her.
Someone has to be. Mercy thought, returning her gaze to the empty sector. A flash of movement in a darkened alley caught her eye. “I think I see something.” Mercy crouched immediately in front of the sniper and looked through the scope. She had been right. A black sedan just barely poked out of the shadowed backstreet. Two large men stepped out of the blackness. Hired hands, paid to take a bullet. Mercy did not focus on these men, but the smaller one that followed them from the alley. He was older, but still handsome. He was smiling cruelly. “Haine.” Mercy breathed. Her finger stroked the trigger of the sniper, but Dictator Haine was still hidden partially behind his guard. Mercy sucked air in noisily between her teeth. Haine moved from behind his guard.
“Take the shot.” Zane said coldly.
Mercy took a deep breath before squeezing the trigger. A breath before the trigger came down, Haine again shifted behind his guard. The shot rang out, missing the guard’s ear by two inches. Mercy ducked down beneath the building’s ledge, swearing under her breath. Shots dug into the concrete, raining debris on Mercy and Zane. “We’ve got to go!” Mercy yelled over the shots. Zane reached towards the rifle. Mercy caught his eye and shook her head. “Leave it!” Zane nodded.
Mercy pulled herself up into a crouch and sped quickly across the roof. When she was across, she opened the door leading into the stairwell. She waved Zane ahead of her and followed him into the stairwell. They tore down the stairs, pistols held poised for combat. Just as they made it to the bottom of the stairwell, the doors that lead outside were kicked open. Mercy shoved Zane into the small space beneath the stairs and squeezed in after him. Footsteps pounded up the stairs, coupled with frantic voices. Mercy held her breath and closed her eyes, praying their position wouldn’t be discovered. The footsteps faded after a few moments. Mercy opened her eyes and found herself staring deep into Zane’s light blue eyes. She looked away and took a chance to peek from their hiding spot.. “Come on.”
“It’s not your fault.” Zane said softly and he and Mercy walked into the base. Mercy didn’t speak. “I was the one who told you to shoot. You should have waited.” She ignored him completely, trying to keep her fury locked inside of her. “We all make mistakes.” Zane said softly.
“Shut up.” Mercy sneered. “I get it, you fucked up. You fucked me up. And you’re fucking up now by trying to console me.”
Zane frowned and watched her for a moment before walking away. Mercy didn’t watch him go. She stalked immediately to a training room. A row of body shaped targets lined the opposite side of the room. She slipped a few knives from her side pocket. Mercy felt the weight in her hands and tossed each of them up and down a few times. With her right hand, she hurled the knife at the target. It stuck firmly in the head. For an hour, she threw knives and she retrieved knives. She never missed the target, but after nearly an hour of chucking blades, her weary arms failed to hit what would have been vital organs. Her throws stopped being life-threatening. Mercy sat down and ran her fingers through her sweat soaked hair, leaving her knives in the target for the time being. There was a soft knocking on the door. “Come in!”
“Hey, Mercy.” The rich voice set a bought of butterflies loose in Mercy’s stomach.
“Hunter. What’s up?” Mercy knew he would bring up the mission. His brother would have told him every detail.
“Heard about what happened.” Of course. “Zane told me.” Mercy felt another wave of anger. She headed towards the targets and yanked the knives out aggressively.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” She mumbled.
“I know you don’t. I just want to apologize.” Hunter sat down on the bench and smiled at Mercy
.
“Why? Because your brother sucks?” Mercy walked back to where Hunter was sitting.
“Yeah.” Hunter grimaced and scratched the back of his head. “I don’t know why you took him along. He hasn’t been training for long enough to make the right calls.”
“I thought he was intelligent enough.” Mercy frowned. “I thought I would actually get to him.” She sat down next Hunter and slipped her knives back into her side pouch. Mercy dropped her head in her hands and slipped her fingers through her hair.
“It was a mistake, Mercy. A mistake anyone could make.” Hunter slid an arm around Mercy’s shoulder and pulled her tight against him. “Nobody is mad at you.”
“Thanks Hunter.” Mercy smiled at the brunette boy.
“No problem kiddo.” He pressed his lips to her damp forehead. Mercy’s face reddened at the short physical contact. “Let’s go get something to eat. You must be starved.”
“Ravished.”
“Yep.” Zane said unenthusiastically. “That’s what the boss said.”
“I’m not seeing anyone.” Mercy let out a long breath, forcing her hair out of her eyes. She pulled away from the scope and peeked back at Zane. His brunette hair was mussed purposefully and his hand cupped carefully around an unlit cigarette. “Zane, we’re on a mission here. Couldn’t you be a bit more professional?”
He took a deep drag off of his cigarette, eyeing Mercy carefully. “Relax. It’s not a mission; we just got a tip off.” He blew out a stream of silver smoke.
“I couldn’t care less if it’s only a tip off, this is still a mission!” Mercy snapped. “Professionalism is mandatory.”
“You just need to relax, Shaw.” Zane chuckled, blowing smoke at her. Mercy waved it away irritably. Zane was her friend, but at times like these she wanted to wrap her hands around his throat.
With this thought sitting in her head, she adjusted her latex gloves and continued to glower at the younger brunette boy. “I’m sure my father would have agreed with you wholeheartedly.” Mercy growled, dipping her head to peer yet again into the scope.
Zane didn’t say anything. Mercy pulled back yet again from the scope and gestured for Zane to have a look. He plucked his half smoked cigarette from his lips and dropped it to the ground. Mercy watched him step on it as he approached the sniper. He bent easily and searched the scope before coming back up. “There’s nothing down there, Shaw. I suggest we pack up and leave.”
“We’ll wait a bit longer.”
“What would he be doing here in the first place?” Zane looked out over the empty streets. This side of town had been evacuated for months. “Shouldn’t he be in a hospital, ruining children’s dreams the moment they’re squeezed from the womb?”
Mercy chuckled and looked over the abandoned streets as well. “I suppose Haine’s life is about more than dream smashing.” Her harsh eyes traveled the cracked concrete sidewalks. “He also must find ways to ruin the lives of his more resilient citizens.” Mercy looked at Zane, whose eyes were still cast away from her. He brought a hand up to sweep his hair away from his eyes. “You should cut your hair. The longer you let it out, the more obvious you become.”
“Who are you, my mother?” Zane laughed, looking up at her.
Someone has to be. Mercy thought, returning her gaze to the empty sector. A flash of movement in a darkened alley caught her eye. “I think I see something.” Mercy crouched immediately in front of the sniper and looked through the scope. She had been right. A black sedan just barely poked out of the shadowed backstreet. Two large men stepped out of the blackness. Hired hands, paid to take a bullet. Mercy did not focus on these men, but the smaller one that followed them from the alley. He was older, but still handsome. He was smiling cruelly. “Haine.” Mercy breathed. Her finger stroked the trigger of the sniper, but Dictator Haine was still hidden partially behind his guard. Mercy sucked air in noisily between her teeth. Haine moved from behind his guard.
“Take the shot.” Zane said coldly.
Mercy took a deep breath before squeezing the trigger. A breath before the trigger came down, Haine again shifted behind his guard. The shot rang out, missing the guard’s ear by two inches. Mercy ducked down beneath the building’s ledge, swearing under her breath. Shots dug into the concrete, raining debris on Mercy and Zane. “We’ve got to go!” Mercy yelled over the shots. Zane reached towards the rifle. Mercy caught his eye and shook her head. “Leave it!” Zane nodded.
Mercy pulled herself up into a crouch and sped quickly across the roof. When she was across, she opened the door leading into the stairwell. She waved Zane ahead of her and followed him into the stairwell. They tore down the stairs, pistols held poised for combat. Just as they made it to the bottom of the stairwell, the doors that lead outside were kicked open. Mercy shoved Zane into the small space beneath the stairs and squeezed in after him. Footsteps pounded up the stairs, coupled with frantic voices. Mercy held her breath and closed her eyes, praying their position wouldn’t be discovered. The footsteps faded after a few moments. Mercy opened her eyes and found herself staring deep into Zane’s light blue eyes. She looked away and took a chance to peek from their hiding spot.. “Come on.”
“It’s not your fault.” Zane said softly and he and Mercy walked into the base. Mercy didn’t speak. “I was the one who told you to shoot. You should have waited.” She ignored him completely, trying to keep her fury locked inside of her. “We all make mistakes.” Zane said softly.
“Shut up.” Mercy sneered. “I get it, you fucked up. You fucked me up. And you’re fucking up now by trying to console me.”
Zane frowned and watched her for a moment before walking away. Mercy didn’t watch him go. She stalked immediately to a training room. A row of body shaped targets lined the opposite side of the room. She slipped a few knives from her side pocket. Mercy felt the weight in her hands and tossed each of them up and down a few times. With her right hand, she hurled the knife at the target. It stuck firmly in the head. For an hour, she threw knives and she retrieved knives. She never missed the target, but after nearly an hour of chucking blades, her weary arms failed to hit what would have been vital organs. Her throws stopped being life-threatening. Mercy sat down and ran her fingers through her sweat soaked hair, leaving her knives in the target for the time being. There was a soft knocking on the door. “Come in!”
“Hey, Mercy.” The rich voice set a bought of butterflies loose in Mercy’s stomach.
“Hunter. What’s up?” Mercy knew he would bring up the mission. His brother would have told him every detail.
“Heard about what happened.” Of course. “Zane told me.” Mercy felt another wave of anger. She headed towards the targets and yanked the knives out aggressively.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” She mumbled.
“I know you don’t. I just want to apologize.” Hunter sat down on the bench and smiled at Mercy
.
“Why? Because your brother sucks?” Mercy walked back to where Hunter was sitting.
“Yeah.” Hunter grimaced and scratched the back of his head. “I don’t know why you took him along. He hasn’t been training for long enough to make the right calls.”
“I thought he was intelligent enough.” Mercy frowned. “I thought I would actually get to him.” She sat down next Hunter and slipped her knives back into her side pouch. Mercy dropped her head in her hands and slipped her fingers through her hair.
“It was a mistake, Mercy. A mistake anyone could make.” Hunter slid an arm around Mercy’s shoulder and pulled her tight against him. “Nobody is mad at you.”
“Thanks Hunter.” Mercy smiled at the brunette boy.
“No problem kiddo.” He pressed his lips to her damp forehead. Mercy’s face reddened at the short physical contact. “Let’s go get something to eat. You must be starved.”
“Ravished.”