The Long Hunt

Isaiah Shaw strode through the crowded Rome airport, large dufflebags slung over each shoulder. Each was filled to bursting with various equipment he would be using in the coming days. Back at the New York airport, he had used a baffler to sneak the items through security. He regretted the deception, but it was necessary; he had been hunting a dangerous metahuman for some time now. His target was a very elusive sociopath, who sometimes waited years between murdering, stealing, and various other, more unpleasant types of crimes. Even with his considerable intelligence and access to the US crime database, he hadn't been able to discover who was behind the gruesome atrocities until a few more bodies had turned up south of Pittsburgh. Needless to say, he didn't often leave the Pittsburgh tri-state area to hunt down people, let alone the United States. However, he knew that if he didn't stop this metahuman, many more innocents would die.

A cab pulled up in front of him. The trunk popped open, allowing him to slid his duffle's inside. He closed it, then bent as he sat in the backseat.

"I would like to go to the Boscolo Exedra Hotel, please." Isaiah said to the driver in perfect Italian before he could say anything. The man nodded, then turned the wheel, maneuvering the car out and into the street.

Isaiah glanced out of the window, his thoughts racing even quicker than usual as he considered what was to come.

Upon reaching the hotel, Isaiah slid some money out of his back pocket and paid the cab driver, then retrieved his duffles from the trunk. He set one on the sidewalk, then donned a pair of sunglasses that had an advanced HUD built in. He glanced around briefly to set the display, then grabbed his other bag and started walking towards the front door, only to bump into an attractive woman while looking in the opposite direction.

"Oh! Scuzi!" The woman said. He recalled seeing the back of her head as she entered a BMW while he was loading his bags into the trunk of his taxi. Odd, that she had come here as well.

"Sorry, I didn't see you." He said, hoping she wasn't a tourist who only knew bits of Italian. His eyebrow lifted when she smiled brightly and winked before entering the building. Slightly bemused, he tentatively walked through the doors after the unknown woman. His eyes flitted over to the reception desk, which he walked to and started talking to the man behind the counter about his room.




Isaiah looked at himself in the mirror, eyes narrowed as he studied the charcoal-grey suit he was wearing. He lifted his left forearm and extended a concealed blade with a flick of his hand, then retracted it and reached inside his coat. A small silenced pistol was withdrawn from the concealed holster beneath his arm, the clip slid out to recheck the bullet count before replacing it again. With practiced ease, he flipped the tungsten shortsword out from the side belt holder and caught the handle after it extended. He whirled it a couple times, then spun and sheathed the collapsed version. It would take a trained eye to see the concealed pistol, while the blade and shortsword were essentially completely hidden unless one knew they existed beforehand.

The vigilante reached down to pickup a small briefcase containing a small, modified laptop and an automatic Glock, then turned and headed out the door. The bar downstairs seemed like a decent place to go. Upon arriving in the somewhat crowded room, he took a seat at a far table. He declined the waiter, giving the excuse that he was waiting for someone who would be arriving shortly.

Some time after arriving at the bar, he had long since hacked into the hotel's network and was currently sifting through the list of tenants while a subroutine checked security camera footage.

"At least the wi-fi's good here..." He muttered, eyes hopping from name to name, picture to picture when those were available. He blinked upon hearing conversation in the bar die down a few degrees. He surreptitiously looked up, and his eyes immediately fixed on the cause: the same woman he had bumped into earlier. His eyes narrowed as he thought rapidly.

Coincidence? Possibly. Was she targeting him? Possible as well, but what would someone have to gain by killing him, even if they knew he was the Faint Shadow? Maybe one of the crime lords he had toppled in Pittsburgh had had friends or family who wanted revenge. They would need impressive resources to track him all the way here, though. Or was she an ally of his target, and was attempting to kill him? Unlikely...

Hundreds of answers presented themselves to him in the time it took for her to walk in, take a seat, and order a scotch. He decided not to do anything about it for the moment, as he didn't want to cause a scene. And if it was just coincidence, he didn't want to perturb or frighten an innocent person because of several suspicions.

Isaiah kept searching for his target's information, but kept a wary eye on the unknown woman. One didn't survive in Pittsburgh by having absolute trust in strangers, after all.

Her attention was mainly on her scotch, but she took advantage of the busy bar and glanced around. She had a feeling she would bump into that stranger again, and lo' and behold- there he was. She laughed to herself and then rose up from the chair and took long legged strides over to the man. To not cause a scene, she smiled and spoke a bit loudly, but only as if she were greeting a long time friend. "Ah, there you are. I was beginning to think you wouldn't make it," her rich Italian accent bleeding passed her lips before she leaned down and pecked both his cheeks. The motion was clearly so she could get a decent look at his laptop. Her hair cascaded her view, skewing it too much. She did not want to look like she was snooping, so instead, she sat down and looked at him with a complacent smile. "Are you following me?' she asked, her hands wrapping around of her glass of scotch, her bare shoulders shrugging gently while she got herself comfortable. Her legs crossed, left over right. The toe of her left stiletto was pointed directly toward his crotch, so if any sudden movements occurred, she would be ready to give him a somewhat fatal kick in the family jewels.

She licked her lips and let her right index finger run around the lip of her short yet wide glass, and then slip down the side to rub against the sweating glass. The scotch was on ice, of course, the condensation being drawn in with her fingertip. A few wet circles were now dressing the outside of the glass, and her attention was solely upon this man, a small smile playing her lips. She was wearing gorgeous jewelry, a hand tailored gown, and looked like she was worth more than some of the most priceless items known to man. The scar on her chest just above her heart was the only flaw that was noticeable, save for the bullet hole scars on her mid and lower back. Just a few of the scars were noticeable because the back of this gown was not as low as some of her others. "Don't be shy," she purred, a smirk lacing her lips now. "I don't bite... unless I'm provoked to." She had glanced down while she spoke, looking at the amber scotch. She then flicked her gaze back up to meet his; eyes smoldering.

Isaiah flipped down his laptop as the woman walked over, then tensed when she leaned in to kiss both cheeks. His left hand came up slightly, prepared to jab into her abdomen if she made a move. Fortunately, she merely sat opposite him and asked whether he was following her. So...she wasn't ignorant either. He bet she was some type of metahuman, and her alluringly confident pose spoke volumes about how she wasn't afraid of him.

He considered for a moment before replying. "No, I have not been following you. In fact, I was wondering whether or not you were tailing me." He barely noticed out of the corner of his eye a large bald man with a dark red tie enter the room. His face was scarred, and he walked with a slight limp in his right leg. The target...

Isaiah's face hardened perceptibly when the man took a seat at the bar and order a drink, then swiveled in his seat to scan the faces around. What really disturbed Isaiah was that his gaze focused on the back of the woman's head; she didn't see, obviously. A predatory grin spread across the man's face before he turned back to start drinking. All this he saw without breaking eye contact, somewhat helped by his sunglasses' HUD.

"Damn..." He muttered, bringing his briefcase up, then sliding the laptop inside. He kept it on his lap, with one hand on the pocket holding the Glock.

"Listen to me: we cannot stay here." Isaiah muttered, his tone urgent. "If you truly value your life, follow me and do not look back at the bar. I will explain everything in my room." He paused right before saying something further. "Uh...that came out wrong..." He thought for a moment, then sighed. He withdrew his laptop, tapped a few keys, then slid it over for the woman to see. On the screen was the entire portfolio he had managed to obtain about his target; namely his picture, places he had gone, and various murders, rapes, and robberies, the crimes often having occurred subsequently to one another.

After a few moments, Isaiah spoke up again. "He is right behind you, and it looks like he's already singled you out as a good, ah, target." He paused to let his words sink in. "And trust me when I say that you do not want him coming after you, bodyguards or not." He attempted to keep his expression cheerful to give the impression the two were having a regular conversation instead of discussing how a psychopathic metahuman stalker might be attempting to kill one of them. To prove that he was right, he stared at an icon on his HUD and blinked twice, which linked the video feed from his sunglasses to the laptop. In the popup video, the woman was able to see the man clearly as the mini camera zoomed in on the scarred face.

During the entire exchange, the criminal had been sneaking sideways glances at their table, but obviously didn't want to make his initial move in a public area without planning a bit first. Isaiah cautiously popped open the pocket containing the Glock, but didn't draw it. Not yet. The armor piercing rounds would only irritate the tough metahuman anyway.

"Latin seems good." Isaiah replied conversationally, one hand holding his briefcase as he walked along with the woman. In keeping with the couple facade, he even put up a kind half-smile that was almost unseen in more recent years. At the question about whether to choose the stairs or elevator, he nodded over at the elevator. "Quicker, and he might be able to attack us in the stairwell. By the way, I never asked for your name. I'm Isaiah."

They stepped into a recently opened elevator. Luckily, no one else was around to enter it as well. Isaiah proceeded to push the floor seven button, then turned to bring Chelle into a passionate kiss as the doors slid shut. This was, of course, for the benefit of the metahuman stalker, who was leaning casually against a wall outside the bar and staring across at the elevator.

Isaiah broke the warm embrace a couple seconds after the doors closed, his expression stoically impassive. He drew the concealed pistol and put it into the briefcase, along with the hidden blade and shortsword. He then started undressing, only to reveal a black skinsuit under the expensive charcoal-grey suit. He gathered the clothes under one arm, then grabbed his briefcase and exited the elevator when they reached the seventh floor.

He reached up to tap the side of his glasses, which sent a signal to the modified door controls in his room. It opened, allowing the two access. He strode in, then tossed his clothing aside and set the briefcase at the foot of his bead. His hands grabbed a duffle bag and brought it on the bed, which he promptly unzipped. Inside was his nanoarmor, the surface seeming to blend with the interior of the bag.

The vigilante deftly pulled the undersuit over his body, which was quickly followed by the armor plating layer and helmet. He opened the other bag, which contained several weapons. He tossed a silenced magnum to Chelle along with some spare clips, then pulled out his railbow and slid it on his back, the shortsword sliding into the sheath on his waist a couple seconds after.

His senses pricked up when he heard the elevator open, along with the sounds of heavy footfalls on carpet approaching his room.

"Figlio di puttana." Isaiah muttered, drawing and extending the railbow in one smooth action.

Isaiah cautiously started walking over to the window, railbow aimed at the door. A popup on his HUD displayed footage from the security camera outside the room. The metahuman criminal was slowly walking around, eyes seemingly closed and nose held up high. Isaiah pulled a headset out of his duffle bag and tossed it to 'Entity'. When she had put it on, he started talking through the COM--with the sealed helmet, no sound escaped it as he spoke.

"It looks like he can smell us somehow." The vigilante muttered, eyes narrowing. He had noticed the woman's newly grown claws, but he didn't question it. "I...did not anticipate that." Through the camera feed, he saw the criminal step up to their door. His back was to the camera, but Isaiah bet he was grinning sadistically. The man knocked on the door, the sound seeming even louder due to the silence inside the room. He knocked again a few seconds later.

"Please let me in. I would hate to ruin this beautifully carved door frame." The metahuman said in a surprisingly soft voice, though it was audibly tinged with a hint of laughter and malevolence.

Isaiah responded by charging up his railbow for a few seconds, then firing. The bolt made a hole in the door, splintering the wood before slamming into the criminal. He staggered back from the impact, but it only looked like the railbow had bruised his chest. Growling, he kicked down the door, sending fragments everywhere.

He was met by an explosive bolt, the detonation tossing him out of the room and back into the hallway. The metahuman's apparently expensive custom tailored suit was on fire, but he patted it out without showing a hint of pain from the licking orange flames. The skin that could be seen through his shirt was charred, but it didn't look like it had drawn blood.

The vigilante jerked his head at the window. "Ladies first, 'Entity'."

The criminal rushed forward, only two powerful stride propelling him towards Isaiah. He vaulted over the superman punch, which smashed into the wall behind him, causing bits of drywall to scatter over the metahuman. When he angrily withdrew his fist, the entire right side of his torso was covered in white dust.

The metahuman grunted in pain as the claws scythed through his flesh, then reached over to grab Chelle with both hands, one wrapping around her wrist while the other started to throttle the demon-like woman. He put her in between himself an Isaiah as the armored man aimed his railbow. He was somewhat distracted by the vigilante, and so didn't stop Chelle from pulling out a magnum and shooting a round into his temple. His head jerked from the impact, but the slug dropped to the floor, crumpled from the impact with his tough skin.

Isaiah holstered his railbow and drew his shortsword, the black blade swinging out with a flourish. Using Chelle's distraction, he sprinted towards the criminal and slid to the floor, the edge of his sword slicing through the side of the metahuman's calf. The man stumbled forward, but regained his balance and swung Chelle bodily around to slam into a lunging Isaiah. He smashed through the wall and into the adjacent room, slightly dazed from the impact.

Meanwhile, the metahuman spun and bodily hurled Chelle out of the window. He turned back to face Isaiah, who was facing him in a crouched position. When the man blinked, he sprang, blade flashing. He slammed into his chest, sword stabbing at his ribcage before he had even opened his eyes again. The metahuman criminal staggered back, more from the pain of the blade than Isaiah's weight. With a growl of fury, he wrapped his arms around the vigilante, lifted him into the air, and threw him out of the window after Chelle, but not before Isaiah had gotten in a retaliatory slash at his right forearm.

Isaiah spun in the air for a second before using his hand anti-gravity boosters to stabilize the fall, and the leg boosters to slow the last two seconds of his fall. He rolled off the remaining momentum, then glanced around to search for Chelle before glancing back up at his room.

"Oh yeah, it's not like being smashed through a wall and subsequently tossed out a window would injure anyone." Isaiah replied snarkily, not really surprised at Chelle's new appearance. "He's still very much alive and kicking, though." As if to accentuate the vigilante's point, a boom sounded as the metahuman criminal smashed through the wall and landed with a grunt on the sidewalk below. The concrete cracked beneath his shoes, shards of it scattering in the nearby area. He rose to his feet and glared at his two opponents, crimson staining his clothing, though unfortunately there wasn't much of it.

"You good at running?" The vigilante inquired, backing away from the massive man slowly. "I would prefer to get him away from here, with so many innocents around."

The onlookers nearby were backing away now, some wise few actually turning tail and fleeing. They started screaming when the metahuman charged, his stride only slightly affected by the cut on his leg. His footfalls gouged out large holes in the street, the pulverized fragments and dust spraying up behind him, oddly reminiscent of a dust cloud.

Isaiah sheathed his blade, drew a grenade and primed it, then dropped it to the ground behind him as he turned and sprinted away from the metahuman criminal. A second later, the grenade exploded, staggering the large man and giving the vigilante and Chelle--if she was going with him, of course--a better distance and speed advantage against the evildoer.