Rookie Killer

Eevi, known around the criminal underworld as the enigmatic assassin "Inkwell," found herself far from her usual hunting grounds in the bustling city of London. She was on a rare vacation, trying to escape the world of shadows and violence that had become her life. Seated at a cozy corner table in a charming cafe, Eevi sipped her vanilla and hazelnut cappuccino and gazed at the passersby on the busy London street.

The quaint cafe was an oasis of tranquility in the heart of the bustling city. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the gentle hum of conversation filled the air. For a brief moment, Eevi could almost forget the darkness of her past and the perilous missions she had undertaken. She allowed herself to relax and blend in with the ordinary tourists enjoying the vibrant city. It was especially boring to her.

As she savored the rich, warm flavors of her coffee, Eevi's phone buzzed discreetly on the table. She glanced at the notification, her eyes narrowing as she read the message. It was a direct and unambiguous message from her secretive employers, it was time to go home. At least that's what she had figured before she read the message.

"Target: Hero in London. Terminate."

The picture provided showed an unassuming young woman, close to Eevi's physical age, smiling harmlessly in the picture. Her standout details being the green that marked her from head to toe, hair and all. She looked kind. Shame.

Eevi knew the drill. Her life as an assassin had always been a matter of ruthless efficiency. She had a job to do, and no amount of relaxation could change that. She quickly finished her coffee and slipped her phone back into her bag, leaving enough money on the table to cover her bill. But one thought pulled at her mind "Why target heroes now?" There was an unspoken agreement in the criminal underworld, superpowered business was superpowered business. Yes, heroes arrest criminals and stop crimes in progress. But to target them draws too much attention from other super powered people. It was stupid to do. But Eevi was getting paid, and this wouldn't come back to bite her only her employer.

London's streets, normally a place for leisurely exploration, became a network of potential escape routes and hiding spots. Eevi's training and instincts kicked in as she started to survey her surroundings. Eevi left the street that housed the cafe and melted into the crowds, her eyes scanning for any sign of the hero she had been contracted to eliminate. She had no intention of engaging in a direct confrontation. Instead, her plan was to watch, to wait for the right moment when this hero was vulnerable.

Prowling the streets of London, Eevi muttered to herself as she checked the ink on her hand. "And now we play the waiting game, Miss April Lambe. You owe me a new vacation." And melded into the crowd, on the hunt.

April Lambe had never been to London before. Hell, she'd never been outside of the states. But here she was, alone, in the middle of the busy London streets. She had been looking for a meeting place for the past 25 minutes. She had been told that her boss was planning to give her more information there. The only problem was that while she was given an address, she had no idea what her boss looked like, or who to ask to find him. It wasnt like she could just text him either; the message was very stern about that. She was sure there was some roundabout reason why not, but she was too shy to ask.

"Ohh..." She grumbled, her usually cheerful exterior replaced by a cloudy one. "Maybe I should just go back to the hotel room..."

She stood still in the middle of the street, her green hair and outfit sticking out like a sore thumb against the browns and greys of the passersby. She decided the best course of action would be to wait for her boss to show up, and so she did.

She was unmistakable standing in the street. A green stain sticking out like a sore thumb in the busy hustle and bustle of midday London. It was too easy. Why was it so easy though? This girl was a hero, super powered or not it was a fact. Eevi's information about the target was incredibly vague so she had to approach this with caution. Her cover couldn't risk being blown, but a missed shot in the crowd would draw a lot more attention. Potentially even other local heroes. Eevi decided she had to get in close, had to lure her away from the streets.

Approaching the standing woman, Eevi straightened her tie, cleaned the foam from her coffee off the corner of her lips, and cleared her throat. "April Lambe, I presume?" Eevi held a blank face as she stared at the woman and only offered a slight cock of her head with the question. She looked like she had been waiting, so maybe this could present an opportunity for her. She knew the answer to her question as she was being facetious, but anything to mask the facade.

Extending a gloved hand to her target, Eevi spoke once more "Ana Thórirsdóttir. I believe you've been waiting quite long enough now."

"Ah-! Yes, I'm April." April shook Eevi's hand vigorously. "I didn't see you before. Guess you're my new boss, huh?" She chuckles nervously, grinning with anticipation.

At a glance, April seems completely harmless. She has large glasses with thick black frames and an innocent look about her. A single flower was placed behind her ear. On closer examination, though, the flower seems to be growing up her neck and clinging onto her skull.

"So! I'm ready. What are we doing first?"

Meanwhile, perched on the rooftops about two blocks away, cloaking module active, a lone Initiative agent observed, eye-in-scope.

He was outfitted with his standard equipment with a few "less lethal" options for his canister rifle: ring airfoil projectiles made of high-density rubber initially made for riot control purposes. It was his first-resort option in taking in targets alive.

The target in question is a pale blonde that Initiative sources know only as "Inkwell" - prime suspect in the deaths of a number of FBI and DHS undercover operatives back in the US, as well as CIA cover agents abroad. International consultation with allied NATO intelligence services suggests that MI5 has interest in her for deaths in the UK. Her full capabilities as of yet were not known.

Agent X531488N - Callsign "Thorn" - had his objective made clear: capture Inkwell - failing that, eliminate her. If only the street weren't so crowded...

He had the under-barrel launcher of his rifle loaded with one of those ring airfoil projectiles and wired the launcher up to the electronics suite of his scope, compensating for wind speed and parabolic drop. The distance between himself and the target meant that - in the best case scenario - the impact of the projectile would cause a minor concussion and may knock the target off balance. The more likely outcome was that the target would end up dazed, but not incapacitated.

If things went extremely bad, it would be the target in front of Inkwell - some green-haired girl that Thorn suspected was a Meta, but lacked any information on - would get hit, instead. Leveling the launcher to pinpoint-target the forehead of "Inkwell", Thorn lay in wait, finger on its trigger and ready to fire in a heartbeat...

"She is sweet. Good, that makes it easier." The malicious thought brought comfort to Eevi. An easy target is easy pay and the sooner she can resume her interrupted vacation the better. With feigned kindness and accompanying coy smile she attempted at small talk. "You would be correct. Have you found London to your liking so far? and your flight, good as well I hope?" She had to play cautiously, just about anyone would see the green shape that was April Lambe dropping dead in broad daylight. She had to be isolated. Breaking from the handshake and faking deep thought with a placement of her hand on her chin, Eevi turned and began walking down the road at a steady stride. "Come then. We need to evaluate you."

Somewhere quiet and without the busy street life is where she needed and there was one particular place in London she thought of this time of year that would make that a breeze for those requirements. Walking swiftly through the crowds, zigging and zagging through groups of people moving "too slow" for Eevi's pace, she wanted to convey to her lamb on a lead a sense of urgency for where they had to get to. Eevi only spared choice glances back making sure she didn't lose her quarry throughout this rush.

She couldn't afford April's suspicion either. So when the two were closer in their paces, Eevi would make nonsense small talk about the young woman's new "job" in the form of a barrage of constant questions that she would just nod her head deeply too as if heavily considering the response before rapidly asking another one.

"And how do you believe your skills would better fit our group?"

"Did you know about us before our contact was established?"

"What do you expect I, as your new boss as you called it, will want of you in this field?"

"Pineapple on pizza, yes or no?"

When it felt like she had exhausted her arbitrary questioning they had finally rounded the corner on the large and beautiful property that stood before them, in spite of all the destruction the recent decade may have caused to London. Magnificent Portland stone gave the entire portico of this structure a beautiful aged grey to its appearance which was accented by an equally well crafted door of bronze with intricately carved patterns and motifs decorating it's surface. Slowing down for the first time since their handshake, Eevi spun on her heels and regarded April Lambe with cold, orange eyes. "Last question for the moment. Have you ever been to the British Museum?"

April answered each question carefully and with gusto.

"I believe I can suit your group by providing backup to other heroes, and maybe even fighting villains on my own. Eventually."

"I didn't know about you, not really. I was a huge fan of other superheroes, though, and I'm so honored to become part of your group."

"I hope that you want information, since that's something i can give you. I wouldn't say I'm a detective, or anything, since that would be a lie, but i get around. I'm... Not the best at head-to-head combat, I'll admit that, but I'm doing my best to get better."

"And pineapple on pizza? Hmm... Pineapple, no. Watermelon, yes."

She paused, looking up at the large door.

"No, I haven't been. Is that what this is?"

Things took a different turn for Thorn when his target started to move, along with the green-haired girl through the streets - he held fire and started stalking the two from the rooftops, the artificial muscle fibers on his suit boosting his jump height and his speed. Inkwell seemed to have taken an interest in the green-haired girl. A victim-to-be, or an accomplice of hers? The girl's thoughts and emotions were an open book to his psychic abilities, but Inkwell's were well-guarded, by comparison.

Inkwell seemed to be leading to the courtyard of the British Museum (judging by the path they had been taking along Museum Street), past the trees of the building he landed on - if she was performing a hit job, it would make sense to find an area in or near the museum where surveillance was light. This was a problem for Thorn because, while he could effortlessly make a kill shot with the standard rounds from his rifle, the ring airfoil projectile would lose momentum before ever reaching that far (it was only effective up to fifty meters, and only reliably worked to half of that).

At least Great Russell Street seemed relatively low traffic at this time, and there was plenty of shade to use as concealment on approach. While his suit cloaked him, it did so by refracting light - an observant enough witness in bright enough weather would see a shimmer where he was standing (similar to a heat haze in a desert). Cloaked or not, it was wiser to stick to shadow than walk in broad daylight.

Trusting his psychic powers, Thorn jumped off the building, allowing his suit to absorb the shock and minimize his injuries. He dashed past the trees to the shadows of one of the smaller buildings. With the time he had made, he was at the museum entrance several minutes in advance of Inkwell and the girl. Thorn figured to use Inkwell's own tactic of isolating and subduing to incapacitate her.

"Wait what? WATERMELON?!" Eevi had to suppress the shock and thoughts she had felt over that response and focus on the mission at hand.  Shaking away the thought, she nodded her head at April's question. "That indeed it is. Established in 1753, the London Museum that counts itself even still as one of the most visited museums in the entire world to this very day." Such an old building hadn't a need of such a grand introduction however. Eevi fought letting a sneer slip onto her face as she delivered the presentation she felt it didn't deserve. If Finland had fared similarly in it's history as the many countries with pieces on display here, then they would have been put there just the same as the rest. A legacy to colonialism and robbery, how gauche.

"Don't worry about why we're here though, I simply am a fan of the restaurant upstairs in the Great Court. Don't worry about payment as well, this meal will be on my expenses today."  For all her faults in life, Eevi couldn't make someone pay for their last meal after all. She still had some pang of concern however, some thought eating away at her over this woman. WHY WAS THIS SO EASY SO FAR? Yes, she should be grateful at such an easy job landing in her lap, but worry ate away at her. Could this be a trap for her? Is this innocent woman actually a wolf in sheep's clothing leading her to her own demise?

It couldn't be though, not by Eevi's reckoning at least. She had known more than a hundred years of life on this world and as such, considered herself a fair judge of someone's intent. And April Lambe radiated zero negative emotions towards her. It was probably just the caffeine. Too many sweets and coffee on an empty stomach had her worked up and anxious over the ease of her assignment. She just had to eat.

With her luck still holding, thankfully. When they arrived at the Great Court Restaurant, it was in the semblance of a ghost town. Getting a table was easy enough for the two of them in this wasteland of tables, ordering less so on the side of the staff. Displaying her inner glutton and not allowing April herself time to look at the menu, Eevi seized upon this sacred tablet and read off anything that sounded good to her on it's name alone. "I will certainly start with the afternoon tea. With that could you bring extra sugar and cream for it? The cream as well, could it be steamed with vanilla added in to that before it is steamed? Alongside the tea, I will start with the scotch egg and an order of the biscuits and jam, blackberry jam please. As soon as I'm done with that could you fire an order of fish and chips, only lightly fried please, with a side of mayo for the fish please? While I'm eating that as well could I try the apple crumble and two scoops of your salted caramel ice cream to add on top of that? Would it be possible to bring that out with the fish actually? Yes? Good, thank you very much. Oh, right, I would also care for a cup of you chestnut pudding to settle it all down right at the end of it all."

If anyone had earned their pay more than Eevi today it was their server, the woman finished scrawling down on her note pad and read back everything Eevi had just asked for without fail or error. To say the least, she was impressed. Remembering why she had come there Eevi snapped back out of her fantasizing over the incoming feast and pointed at the green girl sitting with her. "And whatever this darling here will be having as well please."

"Oh! Uh, I'll just be having, um... Could you come back? Everything looks so good." She said, taking the menu from Eevi and looking it over. She shook her head apologetically. "I can't decide."

The waitress nodded and walked away.

"This place is so fancy! What's it called? I'll need the name to come back later." April smiled, looking around. "I invited my mother to join me here next week. With this new job, I can finally let us visit the world." She paused. "I really appreciate you hiring me. I was... Kind of desperate, if I'm being honest." April laughed nervously, rubbing the back of her neck.

"I thought the only thing I'm good for was flower arrangements. But maybe I can be something more."

Trailing the two to the Great Court Restaurant upstairs, Thorn set up. The big problem was that the green-haired girl was between himself and Inkwell - a clean shot on Inkwell would require the girl to move. It might have been enough to simply render the girl unconscious and hit Inkwell with a second projectile, but he suspected his target would be quick enough on the draw to not give him an opportunity to reload the under-barrel launcher and would be able to narrow out his position - cloaked or not.

It was simply one shot, one kill - or more accurately, one knock out. And at this distance, the projectile should easily daze his target. Settling his sights square at the back of the green-haired girl, he decided to take a gamble. She seemed to be an airhead, but Thorn had to get her to move.

He projected out a psychic thought to the green-haired girl:

"She's lying to you. She's no hero recruiter - she's a hired killer, and you're her target. Just move out of the way, and I'll handle the rest."

If she were a better person Eevi would be experiencing a feeling close to regret over the course she intended to follow through with the well meaning, sweet, woman. As she was the infamous assassin Inkwell with a career of almost 80 years however, she could only feel the shame it would be that her lunch would be twice ruined by this contract today. The arrival of her tea would provide Eevi with the time she needed to finish her work between how long the rest of all she had ordered would take to arrive at the table. Drinking the warm earl grey with a heavy serving of sugar and cream, Eevi indulged some of the woman’s conversation. “It’s name is simply the Great Court Restaurant, a rather boring name if you ask me. Far too expensive as well if you’d care for my opinion.”

She looked up at the girl with her eyes while keeping her head down drinking from her teacup. ”Yes, it will be good to have your mother already on the way. Very fortunate timing in fact.” A small wince seized her eye at the woman’s gratitude. Even if undeserving of it given the truth of their situation, April was being genuine with her. No one had thanked her for something in a long time with such innocence and kindness. Thrown off slightly, Eevi looked away from her target and the conversation.

Looking over the upper floor of the Great Court, Eevi steeled her nerves again for her work. Suppressing the small twinge of guilt that struck her, she comforted herself with one thought. “It’s far too late now to have second thoughts. Too many other innocents you’ve taken contracts on never got this second thought.” Heaving a heavy sigh, Eevi spoke to April again without turning her head. “Maybe things would have turned out better for you had you kept to your flowers April.” Pulling her right glove off under the table, Inkwell formed an ever familiar shape with her hand. A finger pistol.

Turning her gaze back to the soon to be dead woman, a peculiar illusion drew her focus off of the objective however. A strange haze had taken shape in the distance past April Lambe. It was as if a blurry spot of hot air sat there, and it was beyond odd to her in the air conditioned environment of the museum in the London fall. The curious sight distracted her vision for a long time of confusion before a gasp of shock crossed her consideration. Someone was there, obscured from her vision somehow, but present. Shooting up from her seat at the table Inkwell pointed her fingers at the woman’s forehead while maintaining eye contact with the blur and prepared to face off with the uninvited third party. “Click.” And the crosshairs formed in her eyes.

April heard the voice in her head. At first she thought it was from another plant, expecting the slithering, soft voices that she usually hears - But no. This voice was firm and forceful. If it weren't for that voice, she would've been dead.

April's eyes widened hearing the click, and she shot up from her seat as well, going into panic mode. She began to run, not knowing what else she could do.

"HOoOOOly sHIT-!"

Remember the briefing: what little intel on Inkwell there was suggested a verbal component to her powers was needed. If Thorn inhibited her ability to speak - say, by knocking the wind out of her - her powers would be unusable for as long as it took for her to catch her breath. To his fortune, two things began to happen: first, his target stood, and then her own target seemed to get his psychic message.

And at this range, Inkwell seemed to have sniffed him out - he still had his opening. The software of his scope immediately corrected for gravity and atmosphere. The second the dot aligned with Inkwell's sternum, Thorn pulled the trigger on the under-barrel launcher. The blank cartridge that held the ring airfoil projectile detonated, and the high-density rubber ring shot from the launcher and an approximate speed of 270 feet-per-second, and closed in rapidly on Inkwell's chest as Thorn started to move.

The artificial muscle fibers strained as Thorn forced himself into closing speed on his quarry, summoning a Psi-Shield around his body (a barrier between incoming projectiles and him actually getting hit).

The impact came suddenly. Even Eevi wouldn't have the reaction speed to dodge whatever had just been fired at her. All she had was the fraction of the fraction of a second to move what she could of her body out of the way. What certainly would have struck her sternum center mass, instead caught her floating ribs. The crunch and crack that she heard echo from her ribs came from the weighty piece of rubber that landed on the restaurant floor. She attempted to answer this attack in kind, but what she felt from the burning, stabbing, pressure that seared into her left side forced only a gasp to punch from her mouth. Words would have to wait, she had to go.

Flinging the small, square-top tables on their side, facing towards the unseen shooter, Eevi made a crouched run towards the door their server had taken into the back of house. There was an open space however from the floor to the back of house so she waited a moment, kept her place and caught her breath, staggered and pained as it was. Even a slight inhale brought stabbing pain into her diaphragm and the lower left portion of her lungs. While she more then likely could still speak, Eevi wasn't sure it would be audible enough at this point for her powers to work. Not that she'd afford her mouth the purpose of speech for at that moment all she could do was grit her teeth and press her tongue against them as a natural response to the pain she felt.

But unfortunately for the unknown assailant, Eevi's luck would still hold as it always had the 90 years she held these abilities. Her server emerged from the back holding a tray of scotch egg with a side of biscuits and jam, very much having been unaware of the recent chaos destroying her workspace. The sight of this new piece on the board gave Eevi the opening she needed. Springing from her space behind the table, Eevi seized upon her former server now turned hostage. Swiping the knife accompanying the biscuits and jam, she knocked the tray from the surprised girl and twisted the same arm holding said tray uncomfortably and painfully behind her. Rounding herself into cover behind the girl, Eevi raised the knife to her hostage's throat. A small rasp of painfully uttered words left her throat like a hiss of venom at the approaching haze

"You want the girl to live, back off. Don't want me to take her hostage until I'm certain I'm far away from you? Then get me April Lambe, now."