The sun set on another busy day in Megacity. The last of the sun fell down behind MegaCity International Bank. And, for a short moment the silhouette of a man could be seen on the rooftops. If you had blinked, you would have missed him.
A loud thud was followed by a crack as the concrete gave way to the immense power delivered upon it. In the epicentre, a sole man crouched. The same man in fact who was briefly seen, not less than 40 stories up, mere moments ago. The man, smartly dressed in white slowly rose to his full over-bearing height. As he got up, the man adjusted his tie and collar using the murky reflection of a puddle nearby. The few city bankers, shoppers and tourists that littered the streets stood frozen in amazement. A few shopping bags dropped to the floor, spilling their contents, as their owner let go in shock of what they had just seen. The rest just stood there catching flies. The man, however, seemed unconcerned. He had seemingly just performed a miracle, but simply pulled his shades from his jacket pocket, sliding them onto his face, before swaggering off down the street. As he walked away, he flicked a phone from his trouser pocket and made a call. The conversation, if that is what you would call it, was concise. "This is GreyMountain. I need an exit."
With that, the man ended the call and slid the phone back into his pocket. Without pause or hesitation, the man pulled out his concealed pistol. As quick as lightning he loaded, cocked and pulled the pistol over his right shoulder. And, without looking back, pulled the trigger three times. The man holstered the weapon and seemingly vanished. Behind him, not more than 20 metres back a man slumped against the wall and slid down to the pavement. Blood poured from the new holes that now adorned the man's chest and head. The rifle, which moments ago was pointed at the smartly dressed man, dropped to the floor and was ominously silent.
GreyMountain had barely got the jack out of his head before he heard the ominous footsteps pounding towards him. "Goddammit Grey! Just what the hell is your excuse this time? Don't tell me, someone looked at you funny? Or they were waiting for you?" Screamed Aracher, Captain of the True Grave.
"I just wanted to spice things up. The place was empty, and I just needed to unwind." Responded GreyMountain sarcastically.
"It was a rhetorical question." Yelled Aracher, his face red with rage and his mouth positively foaming. "The mission was a simple one. Not even you should have been able to compromise it. You were there solely to await contact from our Machine spy. There was to be no combat, no flirting and certainly no showboating. All of which you do within 10 minutes."
GreyMountain risked a smile as remembers the particularly nice blonde Zionite he bumped into Downtown. "And wipe that smile off your face." Aracher said, his breath now getting short after his yelling marathon. "Your antics could have compromised months of undercover work done by our Operative. And not only that, but your little fire-fight could have attracted the attention of programs a lot more powerful that building security. And, despite what you may think, you're not Neo."
"Oh back of Arac...SIR. We got the intel you've been so antsy about. And so what if I kicked up a little fuss toward the end. I was miles away from our meet by then. There was no possible way I compromised our little spy."
"You got it? Thank god. It's about time too. This operative has us running all over the place for it. What did you have to do get it? Last time she had me going through 15 different hardlines all over the city, followed by a subway trip and venture into the sewers." Aracher said, his temper turning to tension as the good news he was hoping for was delivered.
"It was quite simple really." Replied GreyMountain, giving off a little chuckle at the thought of Aracher knee deep in the sewers. "With everyone interested in Wrights presence in Downtown, and those new programs that are popping up, it was relatively simple. Just did a few hardline runs and she was satisfied."
