Alfred loved wet work. Even with The Company it didn’t happen often, but he loved it when it did. The company had all sorts of rules about when it could happen and all, which chafed, but he understood on some level that The Company was the only thing keeping him out of prison so while the rules chafed, he lived under them. And they had some pretty scary people that enforced the rules, too.
One of the funnest… what an insufficient word… parts of wet work was the long, hard, anticipation. The travel, the midnight ride to the drop off point, the creeping into position. And then the wait. He usually arrived in position just before dawn, and had to wait out the whole day. Sensors set, he would nap.
And then the next evening, wait until even the most decadent of party animals was finally asleep, and then he would strike.
“Mongoose is ready,” he subvocalised.
“Owl is ready,” he heard. Probably half a mile away, long scoped rifle, opposite side of the house from him.
“Kesterel is ready.” Same, separated from owl by a quarter mile or so, with what view of the house they both could get.
“Badger is ready,” he heard. Ready, in a vehicle, on the road… ready to come charging in if things went south.
“Clean up is ready.” Twelve men, not really part of second team, whose job was exactly that. They were armed, and dangerous enough, with submachine guns, but their main job was to clean. To bury what was left of the bodies, and clean the entire house so that not a shred of forensic evidence would be left. And then, and he always found this ironic, to plant a few incenderary bombs so there would be nothing left to find.
“Second team, Overwatch. We are confirmed. Mongoose, your leash is slipped.”
Those were the most joyful words in the English language, as far as he was concerned. He began his crawl up to the house.
—
“He is literally certifiable,” Overwatch said to his aide.
“And would be in some maximum security prison if he wasn’t working with us.”
“Have you ever been in a house after he visited?”
The aide shook his head. “I’ve never been brave enough.”
“I went in once. Exactly once. I’m an old military man and it still freaked me out. The throat, the pool of blood… it’s like they didn’t even know what hit them.”
“Overwatch, Badger. We have a problem.”
“What is it?”
“A panel van coming down the road.”
Overwatch said some words his mother hadn’t taught him.
“Mongoose, you copy?”
“Of course. How long till they arrive?”
“Fifteen minutes.”
“Plenty of time. Owl, Kestrel, take their driver out at the last minute.”
“Owl copies.”
“Kesterel copies.”
“One down…” Mongoose almost whispered.
“Owl, they are in the driveway.”
“Owl copies. No eyes.”
“Kesterel, no eyes.”
“Two down…”
“Owl has eyes!”
“Kestrel no eyes.”
“Three down…”
Overwatch shuddered. He had to keep reminding himself exactly how sick these men were that they were eliminating.
“Four down…”
“Owl lost eyes.”
“Kesterel no eyes.”
“And five down… two in another room…”
“Kestrel eyes!”
“Go ahead, Kestrel, take them out.”
“Shot! Van stopped, off road. Uncertain injuries.”
“Badger, move in! Clean up, Move in!”
“Badger charging.”
“Kestrel. One out of van… and down on road. Oooh, they’re shooting back at me.”
“Owl, taking shot. One down in bushes. Not killed.”
“And they woke up and I had to use my pistol. How sad. House cleared, Clean Up, come clean up.”
“Clean up copies, descending on house.”
“Badger on site. Three living hostiles.”
“Badger finished. No living hostiles. Will transport van and bodies to house. Kestrel, you shot a bit low on that van driver. Alive but childless.”
Overwatch laughed. “I wonder if they got the news out?”
“I’m sure the team hopes so,” the aide said.
“Overwatch, Badger, return to you position as soon as things are moved.”
“Hooked up and pulling now.”
—
Alfred stood in the yard, smoking his pipe. He doubted the habit would kill him. He was bound to hang or get shot first. He watched the clean up team coming running in, their big backpacks on. And the Badger team racing in with the van, and then go racing back.
He went and looked in the van. So messy. Altho the emasculating shot was interesting. Nothing he would do, of course. He preferred minimalism. He had shot the two waking up exactly in the heart.
He looked down the road and sighed. The next fight, if there was a next fight, would be far too messy. Still, it was fun to kill.
“Ok, guys, are you ready?”
The Chargers stared at him, and then at the teleprompters. They were off camera…
“Ready for what?” Frank asked, finally, as Mr Madison kept grinning at them.
“Going public, of course! Our videos go live… the actual videos not the ads for them… in ten minutes.”
“What?” they said, all together.
“Yup. I guess you lot haven’t been watching our ads. Now, I want you all to pull it up on your phones. My tech is good, but its always good to check it and get as many eyes on it as possible.”
The Chargers busied themselves with their phones and everyone soon had the site up.
“Oscar Madison presents… the Lightning Chargers!” the screen said and then, after a haze of lightning, the screen resolved to Mr Madison waving them to chairs…
“Have a seat. I will warn you, this is all being recorded. Unless I tell you otherwise, everything in this room is recorded, and I will use it without warning in any of my videos.”
Sue’s heart raced a bit as she watched herself sit down, qualing at how plain and scared she looked.
“So, this will hopefully be the first video in my new series,” he said. “My name, for those who don’t know, is Oscar Madison, and I direct, produce, whatever, gaming videos. And I have asked this party, the Lightning Chargers, into my office to discuss the possiblity of making them famous!”
The Chargers watched, their hearts racing, excited and appalled, as the first session played out. “I am very glad,” Frank said, when the video finished, that I did not see that on our first day. I feel much better watching it now.”
“And that’s why I delayed it,” Mr Madison said. “Now, you lot still good with waiting to tell your friends and all?”
“Oh, yes,” Sue said, quickly, before anyone had a chance to change their minds.