[SP] every time you kill someone, their fatal wound shows up as a scar on your body.
*****
The choice to leave most of my fate in the hands of Sigma was one I wasn't all too happy to take. I believed that the only way to get something done to your satisfaction was doing it yourself, except in cases where there was no possibility of the proxy I made use of messing things up, like the rooftop situation. But I felt confident in my choices since I had fitted the vehicle with a lot of cameras and other systems set in place. All Sigma had to do was drive, and I'd be sure to reel in a big fish.
Meanwhile, I kept looking at my EncroChat custom phone from time to time, waiting for my enemy to realize that I'd made a move, and broken one of the legs on which his plan to do away with me stood. My handling of the assassination squad was a fine touch, especially seeing as their arrest was bound to make waves. I could imagine my opponent's reaction - the smoke was now visible, and the fire was them was about to be discovered.
But I couldn't sit still either. I began to analyze all the jobs I'd taken on so far, researching the backgrounds of the victims closely and looking for any clues as to who my enemy was. The game would have been more fun if they dripped clues as to who they were after every success I recorded, rather than money, but I wasn't complaining. Still, I had to find something to do in the meantime, and then I remembered.
I was dealing with Nathan Prescott, the owner of Pristine Clothing. His line of work was something I would have to check if I wanted to ascertain why he was after me, but it was not an investigation that was forthcoming. I would have to go through countless cases and think far back, maybe back to the beginning of my career as a contract killer.
I couldn't discern a precise time frame to be looking at, and that was the problem, How long would it take to do all this, to process all those cases and...
Then it clicked. Renee Prescott, the supermodel. I received forty thousand dollars to kill her a day to her flight to Paris for the Paris Fashion Week three years ago. A rival model had requested the job, and I drove a hard bargain to get that much money from the client. I had almost forgotten all about her.
A Google search took me straight to Wikipedia where I confirmed that she was true, his sibling. The killing was done using Potassium Chloride and was one f the few cases in my career where I didn't use guns, knives, or brute force. She was dead within minutes, and the security cameras didn't capture anything. It was believed to be sudden death but for some reason, her stupid brother continued ranting about a conspiracy to murder and the fact that she was assassinated.
I remembered searching him up then and noting that he was a fashion designer, but I just thought he was a harmless noisemaker then. Who could have thought that he'd turn out to be this much of a pain in the ass now? And 'Pristine' was just what everyone knew what he did, but it did not explain a lot of things. For example, he seemed to have a lot of power and influence in the criminal underbelly of the city, so what was he under the mask?
That was more research and more digging to dom, and I was going to be very occupied in the days to come, and now I also had to worry about defending my own garrison. I'd come too close to getting killed because I decided to focus on an offensive. For now, all that was going for me were reconnaissance and information gathering, so I decided to focus on that and leave trying to infiltrate his house.
Then I remembered the feed from Sigma, and I looked pm happily. He had managed to enter the estate and was driving through slowly. Personally, I knew he would look out of place a bit, but if he disguised the van as a delivery van, maybe he wouldn't get caught. Then he passed a certain house and I spotted the car and the player number I was looking for.
21 Pickett Street.
That was where the Mercedez Benz AMT GT was parked under a parapet, sitting pretty. I now had a name, and work and home addresses. It was up to me to decide how to go about the whole thing from this point, but I would have to covertly visit his house, and I couldn't give the job to anyone else. It had to be me.
Suddenly the cameras on the van shook violently as I heard a loud bang. A voice walked up to the car, and for the first time, I heard that voice that was going to plague me for months.
"Good work so far, Skar. But maybe you messed up this time, don't you think?"
Sh*t. He had somehow got wind of my actions and now he had Sigma in his palm.
*****
TO BE CONTINUED
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