Chrome Rain, Chp 2 - A job offer

Chrome Rain - Chapter two


Nouveau Montréal, Protectorat Français
Centre Industrial 3
Date: May 15, 2103
09:11 EST





        Fuck me! I thought as I tried to gather my composure. This asshole had caught me off-guard. How he got into my Spry, I don’t know, but that just proved he was a serious pro.
“Do I know you?” I asked as calmly as I could. I hoped he wasn’t set up to measure my biometrics and see how shocked I was to be held at gunpoint in my own car. “I mean, it would just be polite to know who you are before I put you in intensive care, pal”
        My passenger was quiet for a moment. “I asked my question first. I wouldn’t want to put a bullet into the wrong skull”. His voice didn’t waver in its civil tone. He had no delusions about who was actually in control of the situation. “So, are you Mary-Ann Donato? Or do you prefer Bloody Mary?”
        I tried to turn my head enough to look directly at the man, but he pressed the gun harder against the base of my neck. “If you’re not competent enough to know who you’re dealing with I would suggest you find another line of work.” I tried to remember who the hell wanted me dead; more precisely, who had the time, money, and courage to hire someone to off me. I couldn’t think of anyone that fit all three criteria. “If I was either of those people—and I’m not saying that I am—what would a professional hit man want with me?” My hand started to move very slowly down the steering wheel.
        The man chuckled. “Hands where I can see them, please” he said in his mild voice. “Assuming that you are Bloody Mary, I would be interested to know what you were doing in that repair shop you just came out of.”
        Outside on the street a large delivery truck hit its breaks to avoid a biker and let off a loud blast from its horn. The man was distracted just long enough for me to slip my combat knife from its sheath and reach the reclining button of my seat at the end of my draw. The seat snapped explosively backwards against the man’s thighs. At the same time I shifted my head to the right, hoping that the hit man didn’t have time to pull the trigger and spray my brains all over the front window. As all this was happening, I brought the blade up to the man’s neck, ready to give a killing blow.
        To the man’s credit, he was actually quite quick. He was able to lock up my left arm with his own as I stabbed at his neck. As a result, my attack barely broke his skin. I noticed, as I looked up at his face while grabbing onto his gun hand, that he had finally lost his bland expression. At least for a moment.
        This little dance took all of two seconds. We both were very quiet as the truck driver’s yelling washed over us and the car vibrated in the wake of the truck’s passing. Once again, the man was first to speak. “Well I guess that answers my question.” He said wryly.
        “You think, Sherlock? Who are you and what do you want? I could kill you right now and it would be self defense.”
        “I want to offer you a job, Miss Donato.” He said with a laugh. “I work for….let’s call it a small government agency that has been watching you for quite some time now. You are on a list of individuals that are considered an inconvenience to the country’s security and are slated for liquidation….that was until an issue came to light that we believe you would be perfect for. The government so dislikes wasting a resource.”
        I processed that for a few seconds. The government, huh? So he was a spook, not a hit man after all. What the fuck?!? “I didn’t actually expect for you to be so blunt. And you still didn’t say who you are. What are you…CSIS?”
        “You know I won’t answer that.” he said with a small shrug of apology. “Let’s just says that my employers are allowing you to keep breathing for the time being if you are willing to help us out”
        I disregarded the threat. “I’ve never had an interest in working for the government.” I replied blandly. “At least I’ve not done anything above the books. I suppose that your supervisors have informed you that I’ve done some slamming indirectly on their leaders' behalf?” the man didn’t answer. “Now they want to put me permanently out of business. They sure got some nerve!”
        The man shrugged again. “I believe that those contracts were performed under the previous administration, Miss Donato. To be honest, Prime Minister Lobowski wasn’t considered a proper choice for the position by our agency, and as such, didn’t garner much support from us. He was forced to…shall we say, fish outside of governmental waters for resources that could provide solutions to policy concerns.”
        I heard the sharp click of the gun’s safety engaging. I released my grip on the weapon so that he could holster it. “You seem pretty confident for a guy having a gun aimed at him point-blank, Mr. G-Man. Do you mind if I call you Mr. G-Man?” I grabbed my Bernadelli faster than seemed—and in all actuality was—humanly possible from its holster, my reengineered muscles using the preprogrammed quick draw habit that I paid so much money for. I didn’t have to disengage the safety from my Bernadelli; there wasn’t one. In barely more than a second I had the muzzle of the gun at he man’s head.
        He sighed with some annoyance, the first true sign of emotion in our interaction. “Miss Donato I don’t think that you truly understand the position you are in. If I could direct your attention to the red dots that I am sure are quite steadily shining over your primary and secondary hearts…”
        I took a quick glance down at my chest. The telling illumination of laser sights was there, alright. I looked out of my front window and scanned the rooftops, willing my combat sighting into life. Data appeared as if by magic at the corners of my vision; distances to surfaces, heights of objects, densities and compositions of materials. I switched through the radiation spectrum available to me, but couldn’t see the trigger men. I traced the thin lines of the lasers back to their sources in the IR spectrum and there they were. Two snipers decked out in cloaking gear lying in unobstructed vantage points on tall buildings. Smart move; I wouldn’t have made them out if it wasn’t for the lasers. I’m sure they were only being used strictly for my benefit to get the G-Man’s point across. I increased my vision’s magnification until I could make out what they were holding. Swedish Bofors .50 caliber electromagnetic semi-automatics with extended barrels for extra accuracy. Deadly. Really deadly. They could take me out for sure, but they would also put holes through the guy behind me. “In case you’re wondering, those Bofors’ payloads are smart shells. Their kinetic force will be depleted in you before they have a chance to leave your body.” The G-Man stated, as if reading my mind. “We’re not sure of all the augmentations you have acquired since our last investigation of your profile, so we decidedly erred on the side of caution.”
        The glass in my Spry was custom; it could withstand quite a bit of damage before failing. Still, I didn’t want to put the specs to the test today. I decided wisely put away my weapon. The red dots disappeared almost immediately, but I had no illusions that those Bofors still had me in their sights. “Are we just going to sit in here all day, or are you going to take me out on a date before your agency fucks me?”
        The G-Man leaned back; satisfied that I was playing the game he had laid out. “Unfortunately, I don’t have time to properly entertain you, Miss Donato. Perhaps another time.” He said as he made to get out of the car. “I’ll be in touch. Enjoy the rest of the day. The weather report claims it will be a clear one.”
        I watched as the G-Man dodged the light traffic to cross the street. He got into a nondescript sedan, which pulled out quickly into the flow of vehicles and disappeared around a corner. I looked down at the blade still held in a tight grip. There was a minute amount of blood staining on edge; he single testament to my encounter. I cleaned and sheathed it with a shallow sigh and leaned my head against the steering wheel. “Shit.” I whispered to myself. “I hope they have a dental plan.”