Junky

Maybe some of you know I'm a bit of an adrenaline junky.

I mean, a little bit.

Anyway, I got somewhat bored and decided to dash off a pure action sequence that has not moral point whatsoever.

Rated T for...you'll just have to find out, won't you.

You little rebel I like you.


A POINTLESS SHORT:

Arkh glanced at his black, thick-banded watch. “He's late.”

His companion, a tall woman dressed in a black jumpsuit with a trench coat flung over it, scoffed. “He's always late. That's his style.”

“Awful style. Who invented it?”

“The Spanish.”

 

Arkh planted his boots on the shiny finish of the wooden table in front of him. He yawned and pulled his hood further over his head. “Well, let me know when he gets here.”

A deep voice replied with a mellow laugh. “How quaint.”

Arkh pushed back the hood just enough to see who was addressing him. It was a rather old-looking man, with gray-white hair and short beard. His eyes scrutinized Arkh and his companion with sharp interest.

“Done starin'?”

Suddenly he noticed that the man's eyes were intensely focused on his boots, which were still on the table. He prudently planted them back on the floor. The old man's eyes ran over his costume, a loose-fitting black button-down shirt, combined with black tactical pants and an overcoat much like his partner's.

“I assume I have the pleasure of meeting the legendary Asseshin?”

Arkh chomped on a cigar, reaching up with his lighter and drawing a deep puff of smoke. “You have the pleasure, indeed. Since you're not dead, I assume you're giving us a contract.”

“Indeed. Have you heard of Daniel Serif?”

“Big-shot weapons dealer, yeah?”

The old man smiled and nodded. “He is your next target. You'll find him here.” He tossed them a piece of paper. Arkh caught it between his finger and thumb, looking curiously at it. Written on it was a pair of coordinates.

“The western seaboard?” Asked his female partner.

“A private island, probably. His own personal little fortress.”

“He must be paranoid.”

“Try wealthy and big-time.” said the old man. “And not to be trifled with.”

“We don't trifle.” replied Arkh's companion.

“Sev, plug this in the GPS.” He tossed her the piece of paper. 'Sev' caught it and slipped it into her pocket.

“Your reward is ten million.” The old man said.

“And when we're done, how do we find you?”

“Ask for Kurama.”

Arkh sputtered on his cigar, coughing on the sudden large inhalation of smoke. “That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard.”

“Why?” Sev asked.

“It's a Naruto reference. Naruto is for wimps.”

“And how come you know it's a Naruto reference?”

Arkh stuck his cigar back in his mouth. “Irrelevant.”

The old man waved a hand. “Dismissed. You have forty-eight hours to complete the contract.”

Two hours later, they were floating ten miles off of a very small island. According to the maps, it didn't exist.

Arkh decided to believe what he saw.

“Serif is paranoid, whether that old codger says it or not.” Sev muttered. “Nobody has this much security. Not even the president.”

“The president doesn't deal in illegal trading.” Arkh replied. He paused and frowned. “Wait, yes he does. Never mind.” He walked over to a small chest in their boat and pulled out a .44 Magnum revolver, the barrel of which was as long as his forearm. “Would you like to knock, or shall I?”

The security monitor glanced at the 5-mile radius of the radar screen and yawned. This was a boring job; at least it paid well. He pulled out his iPhone and started playing fruit ninja. While he was occupied with his intense game, he didn't notice a little blip appear on the eastern side of the radar, heading straight for the fortress. Very, very fast.

Overlooking the main docking port of the fort, the guard in his tower sipped a cup of coffee. He wondered what his mom would be cooking for breakfast – he'd be on leave after his shift finished. A nice breakfast of eggs and poptarts would be a welcome change to the bland barracks food they received.

His thoughts were cut short by an enormous explosion. The gate to the docking bay vanished in a ball of flame and smoke, shaking the ground. The guard started, spilling the hot coffee over his uniform. He scrambled for his binoculars and stared through the magnifying lenses at the scene. As the smoke cleared the alarms in the base triggered, sounding a high-pitched wail over the island. The guard spotted movement and turned his binoculars out to sea. A white crest of waves hailed the approach of a light, small motorboat, approaching at high speed.

“East tower to command, east tower to command, perimeter breach, hostiles-” The guard was abruptly cut off by a loud crack, followed by a .44 caliber bullet punching through his radio and into his throat. The rest of the transmission was a gurgle.

Arkh tilted his revolver and blew off the top dramatically, despite no smoke issuing from the fired cartridge. “Nice work, Sev.”

“Only the biggest booms for you, boss.” Replied her tinny-sounding voice in his earpiece.

“Hallelujah, amen, you are dismissed.” Arkh made the sign of the cross in front of him. “We commend your souls to Artherius. Blessings of the Eight Divines be upon you.”

“Is that a Skyrim reference? Lame.”

“What's that I hear? Sounds like a paycut.” Arkh muttered into his throat mike.

“Hmm? Oh, I didn't say anything.”

“Mhm.”

Arkh strode into the base through the still-smoking remains of the gate, his trench coat billowing about his legs dramatically. He wore sunglasses under his hood, which any normal person would have thought ridiculous at night: but on the other side of the lenses was a heads-up display with a full layout of the fortress, along with night-vision capabilities and a targeting crosshair linked to his .44 Magnum.

“Sev, you've got the big shot. I'll draw the rest of the guys.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

The captain was no newbie at his business. He'd served as a mercenary in plenty of different places and had commanded and lost plenty men before. This was no different.

Well, it was a little different. The number of assailants seemed ludicrously small, and the only ones spotted had been that boat – only big enough for maybe two or three people – and one person who'd walked right through the gate, which until thirty seconds ago had been high-grade military steel, designed to resist even an airstrike. What did they hit us with, a nuke? He shouted out orders as he ran through the barracks, scrambling men into position. Whatever. If it's only them, there shouldn't be a problem. As his squad advanced in skirmish position, his lieutenant ran up and handed him a sensor screen.

“We're only detecting one of them, sir. He seems to be by himself – radar shows no other incoming.”

The captain stared at the screen in disbelief, shaking his head. “This is extremely strange.”

“He took out the guard in the east tower, sir, and so far-” The lieutenant stopped. The captain's eyes widened.

The blip that had been the intruder...had vanished.

“Impossible.” He muttered. “There's no jamming device on the planet that could stop our sensors.”

“Of course not,” a jaunty voice answered him. “That wouldn't be any fun, would it?”

Surprised, the captain turned around. What he saw froze him in shock.

All around him, his squad was down, on the ground. The lieutenant hadn't merely stopped speaking – his neck was broken and he himself was facedown on the ground behind the captain. Leaning against a rock nearby was Arkh, his wide grin directed at the captain.

“Wha–how–” the captain stuttered.

“Let me explain, for the benefit of yourself and our readers.” Arkh held up his large pistol and examined it. “Kaboom. Your sensor screen did not deceive you; I just happen to be in possession of a very singular mutation that cuts off the part of the brain monitoring muscle restraint. Therefore, my full physical ability is always being utilized, allowing me to run faster, hit harder, and do many things other humans cannot.”

“But-”

Arkh cocked the hammer of his revolver. “Exposition over. Sweet dreams.” He leveled his gun and fired.

Sev directed the motorboat around the island, glancing every once in a while at the cloaking device's countdown sequence. The boat possessed a very rare and high-tech processor that mimicked ocean patterns, broadcasting them to any radar or satellite images; thus rendering the boat invisible to electronic detection. Unfortunately it used up a lot of juice, and could only be used for about an hour before it had to recharge.

Serif had definitely been notified of their presence by now; he was probably running like a scared rabbit to his private jet. That was her job to take care of, while Arkh drew the security's attention.

As the thought vanished, she heard a dull rumble of engines. Ah, here we are. The small luxury four-seater soared over the walls of the island fort, heading west. Sev picked up the Stinger missile launcher next to her and aimed, smiling through the circular sights at the fleeing plane.

Arkh blurred and vanished as a grenade thoomped into his previous position. The unfortunate soldier who had launched it felt a hard crack across the back of his neck and died instantly, a slightly confused expression on his features.

The snapping sound of the man's spinal cord was followed by a large flash of light, a corresponding boom resounding throughout the island. Arkh looked up in time to see the flaming remains of Serif's plane fall from the sky, smashing into the water.

He blew dramatically on his pistol muzzle and turned to walk away.

“Mission accomplished, Boss.”

“I saw.” Arkh took out a cigar and chomped on it, lighting the tip and drawing a long puff.

A soldier jumped out of a rock to Arkh's left and fired – but Arkh's form suddenly wasn't there, and then he was beside the guard, his hand clamped around the man's pistol. He squeezed once and let go.

The soldier stared in disbelief at the mangled metal that had been his gun barrel. He looked up at Arkh, his eyes wide.

“Wh – what are you?” He asked, his voice trembling.

“Complicated.” Arkh muttered through his cigar. He turned and strolled off.

“You're just full of quotes, aren't you Boss?” Sev's voice rang in his ear.

“Yeah, shut it and pick me up.”

“I'm considering it...”

“What's that I hear? Sounds like a paycut.”

“ETA two minutes, sir.”

“Mhm.”

As they sped away from the island, Sev glanced at Arkh, who was casually cleaning his Magnum.

“What next, boss?”

Arkh paused and flipped the remains of his cigar overboard. “Another joint.”

“No, I mean, what's our next target?”

“Does it matter?”

“No, but-”

“That's need-to-know information.”

She rolled her eyes. “And I don't need to know?”

Arkh gave her a blank stare. “Have I ever given you a reason not to trust me?”

“Well, there was that one time-” She stopped. “That was another quote, wasn't it.”

“Take what you can.”

Sev sighed. “Give nothing back.”