Nonroutine Pruning [closed]

[Trevenfort]

Location: Free City of Trevenfort, Badlands Frontier

Ever since the death of Troy Bastille, the Purgers of Trevenfort had been on edge. They knew they had new enemies- stronger than what they were used to dealing with. This was something that required rapid adjustment- at least, if the Purgers’ higher-ups wanted a chance at survival. Everybody at the rank of Captain or higher had been given significantly elevated security- including one Captain Victor Bush, who, despite nearing retirement, was still doing his very best to be an active participant of the organization. Still, he had accepted the extra help with open arms, as the Purgers quickly aimed to improve their capability to fight back against supernatural threats that acted rationally. The typical Scourge was illogical, a vampiric species native to Trevenfort that was almost always hostile and feral- usually they’d just rush you head-on. But these new enemies… they shot back. This was a unique threat- and unlike some of the other durable and hostile humanoid species, these enemies had solid intel on the Purgers- managing to strike down their third-in-command when he was vulnerable.

As for Bush, his business was simple for the day. He was set to lead an attack on a local gang that had been causing trouble- and with his recently upgraded convoy, that was shaping up to be an easy job- he could call on more firepower than usual. He wouldn’t be fighting- not if he didn’t have to- but he still accompanied his men, unwilling to appear scared in the face of the enemy. Unlike last time, the enemies of the Purgers wouldn’t be waltzing in- there was a rather serious convoy headed to liquidate these miscreants- but Bush would be towards the rear of it, as the bulwark units would be leading the offensive, hopefully exterminating most resistance without even getting out of their vehicles. Still, Bush’s position near the back left him moderately vulnerable- he could be outflanked from the rear once combat began, and he would be forced to slow down… but for now, all was well for the convoy, including Bush.

[Acteron]

“Right on schedule, Mr. Key.” The ghoulish Mr. Locke crowed, his unnaturally toothy grin curling over his face. The prospect of impending death always brought a smile to his face. The happiness almost, but not quite, made up for the Good Captain Bush for not inviting him to the retirement party. Beside him, the massive form of Key shifted, the sound of his bulk moving was almost glacial in nature. “Thas right, Mr. Locke.” He rumbled as the two crouched on the roof of one of the nearby buildings, shielded from the convoy both by the general darkness and by the metal frame of an old fashioned air conditioning unit. While the two… might be able to take on the entire convoy, such would be hard and difficult. The Messers., especially Locke, preferred the path of least resistance. Besides, bullet damage was hard to get out of fine suits.

So, they contented themselves to wait for the convoy to engage its target, then they would simply take care of business. The classic smash and grab. Well. Sort of. The pair had prepared a slightly more… impersonal method for this job…

[Trevenfort]

And then, there was gunfire. Not at the two assassins, but at the planned targets. Mounted GMPGs in 7.62x51 and 7x70 roared to life, and the convoy didn’t even slow down. The battle had begun, but, quite frankly, the window to hit Bush was yet to open, in all likelihood. Inside one of the vehicles, Victor stretched rather casually. It was quite cathartic to see things go well. Outside of the formation, gang members shouted frantically, trying to lob makeshift explosives at the Purgers’ armored cars- to little effect.

[Acteron]

Locke chuckled as he watched the one sided battle. “Look at ‘em scatter, Mr. Key.” He crowed, which was impressive given that he kept his voice to a careful whisper. Key nodded as he tinkered with the small, black machine that rested between the two assassins. “Aye. For vampire hunters, they seem to prefer killin’ their own kind.” The brute said, surprisingly thoughtfully. Locke glanced back at him, and smirked as he saw the compact device between them. “How is Sauvage’s present, brother?” The red-haired goblin like Mr. Locke said inquisitively, before continuing to spy upon the battle through an antiquated spy glass. Key shrugged as he continued to tinker, now with a sleek black controller and screen. “Far as I can tell… good. Still, I can’t really test the thing, Mr. Locke. One use only and all that.” He said in his slow, glacial voice.

“Yeah yeah. Just as well. The old codger hasn’t opened himself up yet…” Locke said, chuckling again. Soon… there would be blood…

[Trevenfort]

On the ground, things continued to go well for the Purgers. One Violet-Grace Ferguson had particularly shined in the battle, notching 5 kills with a mounted “Filthy Animal” GPMG. In her mind, this was what the Purgers were about- bringing the law where they official police didn’t dare to enforce it. These gangsters didn’t deserve mercy, and she didn’t show them any- including bringing down a surrendering enemy. Admittedly, perfidy wasn’t uncommon in these kinds of situations, so perhaps she was onto something. Eventually, the formation did have to slow down, as they began to riddle one building in particular with bullets- receiving notable amounts of fire from their enemy. Still according to plan- albeit, slightly more vulnerable.

[Acteron]

Locke’s curly, uncanny smile widened further. They were almost there. The old man’s car was almost exposed. Just a few more feet… “Theys are almost there.” He said in satisfaction. “The thing ready, Mr. Key?” The merc said, gesticulating wildly at Key with his disproportionately long arms. “Uh… jus about.” The bruiser said in response. Locke nodded, and continued to observe the battle. “You know, the brave heroes are executing surrendering men. Looks like they are taking after us.” He chuckled. “And they get mad at the SDA for doing the same. Ha.” Locke giggled to himself, the raspy sounded dimmed by the battle and the lowness of his voice. Key shrugged. “Never meet your heroes, I guess.” He rumbled as he continued tinkering with their new tool…

[Trevenfort]

The engagement continued, as the formation of armored cars continued to circle around the building, inflicting casualties and carnage upon their enemies. This was… going a little too well for the Purgers. But still, their movement speed was slow- and occasionally, Bush’s own vehicle would have to stop to allow one of his fellow attackers to rain down hell on an enemy position while stationary. This might be the best chance the assassins would get, even if it wasn’t a particularly good one…

[Acteron]

Locke sighed. It wasn’t… perfect… but hey, it was something. “Finished, Key?” He asked. “Yeah, just about.” The mass said in response, snapping the drones propellers into position. A so-called ‘Suicide Drone’, it was a quadcopter designed to smash into targets and deliver a deadly explosive payload. It was… a higher tech method than the Messers. normally used, generally preferring closer and more brutal ways of murder. Still, this way would not only conceal their location, it would also be quite the conflagration. Freshly made from a Armée Royale contractor. It was not an inexpensive investment, although it wasn’t their Obols. Heh, bleeding that sourpuss Sauvage out his funds always brought a smile to the Messers. faces. With a quick motion, Locke snatched up the controller and his thin, gangly fingers began working agilely across the levers and buttons. With the faintest whir possible, nearly impossible to hear due its whisper muffled engines, the black drone took off. Shielded by the night and the chaos below, it swooped down from the building and took an indirect, curved path towards Bushes car. That way, it’s true origin point would be concealed. It was almost a beautiful moment, when the diabolic machine slammed into the car and it’s orange, fiery payload erupted out of its frame. Locke smiled as he saw it, before trading in his spyglass for a long, thin scoped rifle. If the old man survived, well, Locke would just take the shot…

[Trevenfort]

The gunner of the turreted vehicle perished instantly, and while this was certainly a’ unexpected turn, the Purger forces continued their assault on their intended target, with one extra vehicle pulling over to try and aid the wreck that was barely out of the gangsters’ line of fire. A few Purger grunts were pulling… someone out of the wreck, with black hair and fair skin. That’s all that was easy to make out from that kind of distance, and while it did match Bush’s description… well… it wasn’t exactly a guarantee that that was the man himself…

[Acteron]

Locke loved his job. All the death, misery, pointless cruelty and suffering he had caused simply wouldn’t have happened without him. The world would be a much better place without his involvement, and what a disaster that would have been. The assassin smirked as he adjusted the scope on his rifle. Yes, everything to satisfaction. Another marksman might wither at the thought of potentially killing the wrong man. But not Locke, oh no. Collateral damage was its own reward. So, he squeezed the trigger tenderly and let the bullet fly. A perfect shot, if he said so himself. Aimed right between the eyes. With any luck, the projectile might even exit his head and hit someone else. What possibilities! Still, even with a silencer obscuring the sound, the trajectory would point to their location. Pausing just to see whether it was a hit or not, Locke moved up and grabbed his rifle. “Alright, time ta switch spots.” The uncouth gremlin of a man said as he scrambled away from his perch and to their prepared exit, his partner quick behind him. A good killer prepared an exit strategy. In this case, a zipline off the back of the building and far away from Purger sight lines. It was almost comical as the two misshapen Mercs fumbled with the harnesses. But they quickly attached themselves and then they were off, whirring down towards an alleyway away from prying eyes. The two landed with quite a lot of force, with Key especially leaving a crack in the pavement. But it was better than being shot at…

[Trevenfort]

The bullet found its mark, and, just like that, there was no more Victor Bush. That being said, it wasn’t totally over yet. Several others began to aim their rifles at where the shot came from, and a few anguished shots were fired. Ferguson took out her frustration on what was left of the enemy, proceeding to notch another 3 kills and all manner of property damage. The raid continued, although the vehicles accelerated their death spiral around their target, filling it with enough metal to poison a lake. A second man was helped put of the wreckage, and reinforcements from Captain Hall’s patrols began to arrive, keeping the situation… relatively under control. Still, the news was spreading quickly- and some of Bush’s higher-ranking subordinates were absolutely stunned.

[Acteron]

The Messers looked up at their old perch from the alleyway, Locke wincing as he saw a few bullets spark off the air conditioning unit they were behind only moments ago. “Time to go, my good man.” The impish man as he began ran off, Key bounding behind him. Down an alley, across a street and behind an abandoned house the two ran, their enhanced strength carrying the assassins far from the building they had made their snipers nest. Finally, a good distance away, they arrived at their getaway vehicle. Key practically flung his smaller partner into the cars driver seat before climbing in himself, contorting his massive frame uncomfortably in the passenger seat. With a purr, the car started and tore away down the street. The assassins needed to put as much distance between the battle and them as possible. They would find out if Bush died later, but right now escape was the priority. Hopefully, any pursuers would be preoccupied with mopping up the gang. And who knows, perhaps the gangsters had capitalized on the explosion for a combat advantage. Or not. Shame, a perfectly chaotic gang of murderers being snuffed out. They could have brought so much chaos to the world. It almost… brought a tear to Locke’s eye. “Well, Mr. Key.” Locke said with a smile as he drove off. “I believe that was a job well done. Dinner is on Sauvage’s tab.”