"Hold still darn it!" Issac Kesh whispered to no one in particular. Issac sighed and looked down the scope of his Scar-H. His target, a young man dressed in raider’s rags and a red bandana, was running around a Blade Dancer camp issuing orders to his subordinates, getting them ready for the next raid on a caravan probably. His name as Jak Gerish, he was a known cut-throat and a high ranking officer in the Blade Dancers. Issac's mission was simple: Take out Jak. How he did it was unnecessary, his client just wanted Jak dead. Issac blinked, brushing away the sand that threatened to blind him. The wind was really a concern, there was a slight north easterly breeze, but the sand was light and very fine, so it picked up easily. Sandstorms out in this desert where dangerous, the sand was known to purée the soft tissue off a man's bones. Issac's vantage point was on a dune half a mile south of the camp, and was elevated about 20 feet above the camps 30 feet ramshackle walls. His weapon was a Scar-H with a 4x scope. It chambered 7.62 x 51mm, and could be converted to shoot the smaller 5.56 x 45 but Issac preferred the larger round.
Issac sighed again, irritated. How much energy did this moron have? He'd been running around for hours shouting orders and he hadn't stopped for a break yet. Issac shook his head and focused, his quarry had to run out of steam soon. After a few more minutes, Issac had a stroke of luck, Jak tripped over a small crate that one of the gunmen had left out. Issac altered his aim to account for wind-age, and distance, and took the shot before anyone had time to react. Jak was dead before the gunman had time to stand up from his position next to the crate. Issac didn't wait to see what happened next. He picked up the shell and deposited it to his pants pocket, picked up his gun, put the covers on the scope, and fell backwards down the dune. Sliding on his back, he was able to see the expanse of the Mohave Desert out before him. It rolled out before him like a sand colored carpet that had been laid down poorly. Dunes rose and fell like ripples in a pond. His keen eyes picked out a single, almost perfectly camouflaged, figure laying prone at the base of the dune. Kat was waiting for him.
Katalia Huntsmen had heard the shot. She knew Issac would be here soon, the sound of someone sliding down a dune confirmed what she already knew. Katalia moved into a crouching position when Issac was half way down his rapid decent. She watched as Issac reached the bottom of the dune and somersaulted to his feet and winked at her.
"Told you it would take one shot." He said smugly. Kat rolled her eyes at him and shook her head.
"I was nervous there for a second, I figured you needed the entire mag to take him down." She said jokingly. Issac pulled a mock hurt face at that statement.
"Hey! I'm not that bad of a shot. Last time was a mistake, I shot the guy in his foot instead of his knee, and that was out 400 yards!" His mock indignant tone made Kat chuckle. She looked Issac in the eye. His eyes where a light glacier blue, if she started to long she feared she would be able to look away. His hair was brown and parted down the middle and was relatively short. She sighed and looked away. Sometimes she regretted their no-romance agreement. To him they where pack-mates, wolves that traveled and hunted together. Sometimes she was glad that they had agreed not to delve into each other’s private matters to much, but she appreciated his advice when he knew something was eating at her.
"So, we heading back home or to the client first?" She asked somewhat impatiently. It was unlike him to stay more than 7 seconds onsite after the job was done. Issac blinked as if regaining his focus.
"We'll head to the client first, we need food for the next few days until we find new job. Otherwise we won’t eat till tomorrow." Issac looked at the sun as it approached the horizon meaningfully. Kat nodded in agreement, and they headed south to the small settlement of Mumford, the trek would take all night to make it on foot, but they didn't have bikes yet, as they didn't have the money to purchase one. So they set off, not knowing the significance of this job, and what it said about the pair's skills, and who had been watching the entire time.
Roland Gresh leaned back in his chair. He sat at before a long Table with 5 men on the left and right sides and one man at the other side. They were dressed in black trench coats, pants and boots. Some wore Black fingerless gloves, others wore plain black gloves. And every single one, had on a pair of black sunglasses. Roland looked around at his companions during the silence that followed. He had seen Issac's display of patience, luck, and skill. Issac has sat there, not moving a muscle for over 4 hours. And when the opportunity presented itself, he took a shot that had defied even the imagination of the greatest minds of his organization. His report had shocked his superiors into a stunned silence. Suddenly the man at the other side of the table spoke, his voice carried a tone of someone who's orders where usually followed.
"Issac Kesh? You're sure? This is the name of the man who killed Hoplite?" said Harold Ettermine, after several silent moments.
"Yes Sir. Issac Kesh and Katalia Huntsmen. Two local Mercenaries and roamers near Mumford. I witnessed Issac Kesh set up and wait for four hours before taking a shot that killed Hoplite before he hit the ground." Roland restated the end portion of his report. Again this brought shocked silence.
Harold spoke again.
"Bring them here; we may need them for The Beginning of Spring." Roland fell backwards and hit his head on the door handle. He struggled to get up.
"Sir? You don't mean-" Harold cut him off saying:
"What is spring without wolves?"
That's all for now we'll add more later on but for now, tell us what you thought, we look forward to reading your replies.
This post has been edited by Desert Wolf: 04 July 2012 - 12:04 AM