Garth had the barrels sent to him overnight. It was worth it. As he arranged for a flight into WSFZ, he considered if it was wise to set up a dead-man switch.

On the one hand, he didn’t want anyone good enough to kill him on a job to get away with it. If he set it up, and it didn’t trigger, there would be no problem disarming the trigger. Then again, if he was delayed or detained, she could either make the situation messier, or she could end up rescuing him. Checking into her console, he topped up the life support supplies and made sure her remote was all charged up and ready for an extended mission. The whole thing would be sent to the Zone in a big shipping container to be available as needed.

Coming to his decision, Garth set the alerts that would wake and launch Angel if he was captured or killed. She would get an intelligence update on the targets and any final feed from his own electronics package. Bodycams would push the feed directly to cloud storage.

The ammunition was to be delivered to the hotel room he had booked. His usual brace of ceramic knives would be in his bags and various stashes on his person. One could never be too prepared, and some targets fight back.

Now, he connected with his information brokers and started studying the targets. The bodyguard would be key. Killing him without any alerts going out was a top priority. If he could be eliminated cleanly, the boss should be easy.

His sources started feeding the data right away. It was noted that the new associate, an unknown figure seen spending time with the targets once, and another who checked in every twelve hours or so were currently unaccounted for. Jeremiah was in hiding at the moment. That was okay; he would have to come out of hiding, sooner or later, to maintain his businesses.

After a week of surveillance and research, Garth was sure he had what he needed. Taking his bags and fake identity materials, he booked a car service to take him from his isolated cabin in the Rockies to the nearest airport.

This was going to be a fun and satisfying last contract. “Maybe I’ll keep Angel around for fun after,” he mused to himself as the plane took off. He could have her body worked on to make it more fun. She already hero-worshiped him. A little manipulation, and she would be a nice trophy… His fantasies about retiring with Angel would have disgusted most people as he dozed off.

---===+++===---

Grey was doing the rounds again. His home was out in a well-forested property in Harrisburg when the sensors tripped. A smile came to his face as he looked at the map that projected to the nearest wall. It looked like he was getting his wish. Some hitter was planning to snipe him. With the way his house was built, he knew the shooter was unlikely to get a clean shot. There were bullets that could get past the armored windows and walls, but nobody would bring more than three. Running his hand thoughtfully over his bald head, Grey opened a special drawer and took out the special vest he kept for just such an occasion.

Garth was quite patient. He had suspected that he would be spotted, but there was no sign of the target trying to flee or load up on weapons. That was okay. He had all the time in the world. Angel would keep for at least a month and he had basic provisions for at least a week or two.

Grey was amused that his would-be killer was settling in for the long haul. As a tease for the unseen attacker, he spent some time watering the houseplants at the large window on the south side of the house. Doubtless, this would be where they planned to strike once a pattern was developed. Grey watered the plants at exactly the same time on the second evening of the standoff. Just as he turned his back to the window, three sharp impacts hit the glass.

Unexpectedly, the last slug managed to break through and graze his side. From the way the injury tingled, he knew there was poison on the round. Falling, he rolled behind the couch.

Garth looked through the scope in disbelief. The old man had been able to move after getting hit. The poison should have dropped him. Just then, he saw something that made his blood run cold. A stylized grim reaper design was projected to the outside walls of the house. The old man peeked over the back of the couch. Fear gripped Garth harder when he saw that the bald man had a skull tattooed over his face and over the skin of his head. The tattoo was chillingly decorated with Japanese characters for death, revenge, and justice. He jumped out of his tree hideout and started running toward the house as he took a ceramic blade in each hand. There was only one way he could survive this situation.

The front door, on the north side of the house, was ajar when he came to it. He could see down the hall and all of the way to the big window he had punctured. It had taken all three shots to penetrate. Walking silently he even slipped his shoes off so that his movement over the tatami of the floor would not reveal his passage with the grime of the woods. In his mind he was thinking, “he must be somewhere near the couch or the kitchen nearby.” It would make sense to be near any concealed weapons and the center island would be good cover. Easing down the hall Garth took a small mirror he had and peeked into the kitchen in the reflection. The wall behind him slid down into the floor suddenly and the old man smoothly slid his arms up, under the killer’s arms and locked the fingers together behind his neck.

“So nice of you to visit!”

“We can work this out!” Garth almost screamed.

“Oh no! You called this tune. We will do our last dance to it!”

At that moment, two things happened. A complex set of sensors took in as much information about the ambushed killer, and then the old man’s vest detonated. The rest of the house was rigged to follow the vest with a resounding blast that was heard and felt for miles around the site. Thermite took out everything to the foundation of the house. The only things to survive were Grey’s car and the hunting blind Garth had been using. Eventually, the sounds of nature came shyly back to the area.

One small box in the hunting blind started broadcasting a signal. That signal reached a shipping container in a storage area where a truck had deposited it two days before.

After a while a girl could be heard crying and wailing inside of the big metal box.