Prologue: Without A Trace

Date: April 14, 2046
Time: 12:00:00
Location: Suburbs of Lith Harbor

To heaven or hell
Will they never break thy spell
May thee empower us with thy hands
So we may hastily carry out thy commands
Because all that we do is for thee
To guide these souls across the sea
Si Deus pro nobis,
Quis contra nos…

~Guosim~

The noon sun shone with an overenthusiastic ferocity, baking the concrete road to the point of fracture. A slight breeze ruffled the tall jaded palm trees, making them sway back and forth lackadaisically. Fluttering branches and leaves rustled futilely against the smoldering hot air, providing no source of comfort in their shade. And yet they came quietly, stalking forward up to the white picket fence, their weapons hot in their black gloved hands.

Sergeant Guosim of the Maple Special Assault Force glanced away from the ball of fire lingering haughtily in the sky. Through his black-tinted sunglasses, the specs and statistics of the target building flashed before his eyes. Ten hostiles acquired… Silently, he moved up the walkway to the double front door and planted his back against the side of the frame. Motioning with two fingers, the rest of his squad regrouped around him.

“Tae, take Squad A down the back alley, protect the back,” Guosim ordered as he pointed towards the left of the pearly white mansion. “Darc, you take Squad B around the right flank,” Guosim motioned the other way. “And Spade, you cover my ass after we breach the front.” The MSAF scrambled double time to their positions, leaving no trace of their presence anywhere on or around the front of the house. Another breeze carried the hot air across Guosim’s face. Hell of a day to do this…

The black MK9-SD silenced submachine gun clicked quietly as Guosim slid in a fresh clip. The first 7.62x39mm armor piercing round slid into place in the breach, itching to speed past the end of the dark tunnel ahead. As his men deftly placed charges on the hinges and lock of the front door, he locked and loaded, preparing to end the lives of the ten mob-kings inside.

“Sir, demo set!” Spade proclaimed roughly into the communicator. Guosim motioned for his men to get back as Spade passed him the remote detonator.

“I want it clean and efficient. Get in and get out ASAP. You fool around, you’re dead. That means you, Spade. Clear?” Guosim ordered quickly, and his thumb pressed down on the tiny red switch.

“Surely you can’t be serious,” Spade sighed a bit dejected at the thought of ‘clean’.

“I am serious,” Guosim replied without looking back, “And don’t call me Shirley.”

A cloud of smoke engulfed the lobby of the mansion as splinters of the two oaken front doors clattered noisily to the ground. Guosim rushed in first, shouldering his MK9 as his boots crunched the shredded wood and shattered glass on the marble floor. Immediately, two henchmen sprang up, plunging their hands into their coats. Guosim noiselessly dispatched the two with two clean shots to their foreheads. “Weapons Free! Tango down in section One-Alpha,” he barked and aimed up the grand stairwell.

There was a crash of glass in Guosim’s earpiece, followed by a muffled statement, “Squad B in! Tango down! Eyes west, Des!” There was a burst of silence gunfire, then the channel opened up once more, “Target neutralized, West Wing clear!” He grinned to himself, his team might actually do what he told them to do for once. Swiftly, he lead the team up the stairs into the second story corridors. As they proceeded, a door suddenly swung open, revealing a man fiddling with a carton of cigarettes. Guosim squeezed the trigger so fast that Spade had grabbed the box of smokes before the body had even fallen to the floor. “Thanks for that one, Sergeant!”

They made their way down to the end of the hallway where it split into a T-intersection. Guosim crouched down on the left as Spade took his place on the right. The sergeant leaned over and spotted two guards with automatic weapons hanging loosely at their sides, loitering in front of a pair of double doors. He unbuckled a flash bang from his combat vest and slid it across the floor towards the duo’s feet. Shielding his eyes, Guosim waited.

The muted explosion turned everything agonizingly white. Guosim snapped his eyes back open and rushed forwards, taking the two stumbling guards down before they could recuperate. “Tango down, section Two-Bravo.” He kicked down the double doors and swept the room. Empty. “Clear left!” Spade answered hastily with a “Clear right.”

“The hell are they?” Guosim wondered as he toggled his HUD in his sunglasses. The Intel provided pointed to the mobsters to be exactly where they were standing. “Squad B, do you have a visual?”

“Negative, Sergeant. They should be… wait what was that? Darc you hear that?” Guosim looked suspiciously at his squad, who were all looking around, as dazed as he was. “Fen go check it out!” his earpiece buzzed again. “Go easy, watch your corners.”

Guosim scratched his head, wondering how the hell Intel could have been wrong when a silenced gunshot pierced the earpiece, followed by screaming, “Fen sh**! One down, Sergeant! Tangos out of sight, we have no visual! Sh** Where did that come from!?” Guosim instantly snapped his MK9 to his shoulders and aimed back down the corridor. The hallway suddenly seemed much darker and much longer than he had remembered. Goosebumps riddled his arms as he crept forwards towards Squad B’s position downstairs in the West Wing.

“Tae, any movement out back?” Guosim whispered as he turned the corner leading back to the grand stairwell. His footsteps seemed too loud.

“Negative, Sergeant. What’s going on?” Tae replied in a slightly irritated voice, “What’s happening in the West Wing?”

“That’s what we’re about to find out. Targets have displaced, we’re shooting blind now,” Guosim replied as he reached the front. The two dead guards were still lying sprawled on the ground, two pools of dark red blood spreading across the floor from their heads.

He made his way to the dining room, training his weapon towards the far side before advancing in. As they swarmed in, the doors behind him suddenly slammed shut. Guosim saw the door on the far side of the dining room swing open and instinctively ducked down, “AMBUSH!”

The room was suddenly filled with gunfire. Bullets ricocheted dangerously close to Guosim’s head as he fired into the mobsters that poured into the room. The huge dining table splintered and cracked as their bullets streaked across the air, caught in the crossfire. Glass shattered apart as windows were blown out and vases were shot to pieces. Guosim’s MK9 clicked empty just as a bullet whizzed through his hair. Angrily gritting his teeth, he ejected the magazine and inserted a new clip and looked back up. His eyes caught a shiny chandelier hanging over the far end of the table, right above the ambushers.

Locking and loading, he aimed up and shot through the metal chains holding the chandelier to the ornate ceiling. The huge glass light groaned as it seemed to float for a moment in midair, then soared down to the ground. Guosim heard ear-piercing screams followed by a tremendous crash. He felt a stinging sensation on his cheek as shards of glass screamed past in every direction.

“Sh** that was one hell of a move, Sergeant!” Spade sighed in relief as the gunfire ceased. When the dust settled, everything became abnormally quiet again. Guosim’s squad regrouped and they made their way towards Squad B’s position.

Rounding the corner, Guosim stepped back quickly as his eyebrowls furled in apprehension. There was a splatter of blood on the wall to the left and a trail on the flowery Perionic carpet leading down the hall towards yet another pair of doors. He cautiously stepped over the blood, advancing with the trail of crimson.

“Squad B, what’s your status?” Guosim whispered into his communicator. The air was getting claustrophobic

“Des’s got Fen. He took a .50 to the right shoulder. He was on the ground before we heard the shot. Silenced Desert Phoenix,” Darc replied quickly. Fen groaned in the background.

“Stay where you are, we’ll come pick you up,” Guosim replied as he reached the double doors. There was a streak of blood that clearly led into the room ahead. He hesitated for a moment, then pushed the double doors open. Guosim’s eyes dilated in horror at the sight.

Ten men lied side by side, all facing the ceiling. Their arms were folded across their chests like the old Perionic Kings in their golden sarcophaguses in identical manners, chillingly uniform. By the looks of their faces, Guosim could identify them as the ten mob-kings they were sent to neutralize. Someone had done the job for them, more cleanly and efficiently than his squad could ever have managed. And now, with everything done, with the ten men dead each with a single bullet hole to the chest, he could not help but feel anxious. There wasn’t even any blood splatter; clean and efficient: everything Guosim wanted.

“Sergeant?” Darc’s voice asked uncertainly at the silence.

“Jobs done, pack up and let’s get the hell out.” Guosim muttered monotonously and headed back out, his MK9 strapped slack onto on his back. The squad regrouped in the hot Spring air where the press was already waiting with their frantic flashbulb cameras and annoying microphones.

As the others brought Fen to a waiting ambulance, Guosim thought he could hear a woman’s voice lingering faintly in the air, whispering. A prayer in the wind, left without a trace.