The Liberal Assassin

Mia Elliot (3)

***Back to Present***

Skidding to a halt and making a sharp left turn, I decided to take a break near a broken wheeler. Crouching down to catch my breath from sprinting the whole time, I went over my plan for the ambush tonight. With every failed attempt, I became increasingly creative. It was always a close fight despite my predetermined loss. Unable to win against Nash's natural capabilities and experience, I made up with my gadgets and wits.

With the newly tested hair tie, tonight will bring my constant losing streak to an end. Coming from someone who had lost close to six hundred times in a spar, it might sound like overconfidence but the light weight of the bobble on the hair tie spoke otherwise. This invention gives me leverage over Nash's predominant sense of sight and with the ambush he would be disoriented enough for me to take him down.

After catching my breath, I walked over to Nash's tiny abode making as little noise as I could. The dirt beneath my boots crunched a little and I grimaced when I stepped on a small stone. Glancing through the open windows, as usual, Nash was seated on his couch as if expecting my arrival. Normally I would tumble in and launch straight into a fist fight, opting for the element of surprise. Tonight, I was planning something different. It took a while but it was worth the wait.

Pulling out three light capsules, I inhaled the freezing air to calm my nerves. Heart pounding in my ears, I tossed them through the window before making my escape swiftly. Nash put away his news tablet and walked towards the noise. As Nash started walking towards the window I was already disarming the security in the back door.

The moment I was inside, the capsules went off followed by Nash's loud cuss. Good luck dealing with the Baby Blues! Those capsule bombs were my latest chemical creation. It makes the person in direct contact with it cry uncontrollably for a period of time.

As predicted, that would not be enough to stop Nash for long enough. I had only a few seconds to set up my next trap. With the positions already decided in my head, I got to work quickly, familiar with Nash's home. As each electric stun mine clicked into place along the corridor, I hid around the corner should Nash make it pass the second trap.

The mines released a high voltage enough to kill a normal New-Man. The dosage was customised to three times more than what would be necessary to stun a normal person because Nash had a different kind of physical composition. If this doesn't slow him down, I don't know what would.

Footsteps neared the kitchen and I crouched in anticipation. If it fails, I would have no choice but to engage in a hand to hand combat. That's something I dread, especially if Nash was going to be my opponent. Of all the skills he taught me, hand to hand combat was the one I needed to improve on the most. I still preferred mid-ranged and long ranged attacks or some sneaky methods like poison since they required less effort.

The curses down the corridor confirmed my fears. From the variety of cuss words used, I derive they probably felt like little zaps to him. The paint pellet pistol that Nash's craftsman friend made for our spars sat heavily in my hand. It was time to be serious, no more petty tricks.

The moment Nash entered the garage I fired three shots in succession. The first shot missed Nash, zipping past him leaving a nasty splat on the wall behind. The second was dodged by inches and the third cornered him for a while, nearly hitting him squarely in the chest if he did not dodge. It was never my intention to get him with the gun. That would be plain silly. No gun can beat Nash's inhuman reflex. Thus, it was time to implement my next strategy.

With Nash cornered, I drew the hidden daggers from my gauntlets. Being ambidextrous had its advantages and dual wielding helped minimise the number of openings I had. Kevin's improved program and Horus' prediction lines assisted me while I exchanged blows.

I felt the force of Nash's kick against my gauntlet, causing my body to recoil from the impact. Wincing at a particularly hard left hook that I blocked, I knew that was definitely going to bruise. Dodging to avoid a lunge, this went on for a good four minutes, a new record considering the previous session that ended in three minutes flat.

As Nash's attacks continue to be accurately predicted by Horus and Kevin, I felt the predatory grin form. Pushing for an offence, I started countering Nash's punches with blades. At the first draw of blood for the night, a mini celebration in my head erupted. The slightest drop in reaction time was all it took for Nash to cut through my hair tie.

Visible in plain sight, Nash told me with an infuriatingly smug smirk, "Your technology cannot defy my senses. Also, you might want to work on expanding the area. Your shadow isn't hidden."

I cursed at not doing something about that flaw earlier. I thought that with the cover of night and Nash's blurry vision from the Baby Blue, he would miss out on it. Apparently, I was wrong. The old man had keener senses than I gave him credit for.

I would figure a way to improve the light bending technology if I survived tonight's sparring session. A blade grazed my bare upper arms and I hissed. It was definitely bleeding now. The constant sting made me more focussed on Nash. Now that he had his weapon out, things were going to become more interesting. A small part at the back of my mind told me Nash had been toying with me earlier.

Left kick.

Block.

Left roundhouse. Dodge.

Right hook.

Counter.

Upper kick.

A backflip.

Where was the opening I needed to attack him and end it?

Despite being able to counter every move, I was feeling the strain on my body. It appears that Nash had the stamina that I failed to account for. The fight would be over in another five minutes if I didn't find a way to subdue him now.

In any normal circumstance, I would never make such a risky choice and opt to wait for an opening. Unfortunately, sparring with Nash called for desperate measures. Taking a gamble, I release my grip on one of my daggers.

The dagger fell to the floor with a clink and as Nash's line of focus fell to the dagger while it fell, I reached to my back and pulled out a switchblade from the belt to deliver the final blow. The switchblade was already aiming for Nash's throat when I saw it from the corner of my eye. The movement was too fast and my body, unable to react in time, convulsed when a kneecap slammed straight into my unguarded solar plexus. The impact had sent me crashing into the wall behind as if I was a mere sheet of paper. I was by no means light but Nash was that powerful.

Curled up on the ground in pain, breathing was impossible. Barely registering the cold metal pressed against my jugular notch and the weight of someone straddling me, I heard Nash grunt. "You're as good as dead with the way you are right now."

Before I could retort, the weight on me was gone and I was lifted into the air. Barely able to grasp my bearings, Nash dropped me onto his couch mercilessly and my wounds ached in protest at the rough treatment. There was hardly any time to protest when Nash left the room abruptly, only to return with a medkit.

"Thanks," I muttered and Nash snorted.

"You've got a long way to go, brat. Also, I won't say it was a bad tactic. It's only a pity your opponent was me. You should try increasing the voltage by ten times if you want to stun me. That tear capsule was good though. My eyes are still itching."

I groaned as Nash pulled off my hoodie to inspect where he had kneed me. "I need some hair tie please."

Clucking in mock disappointment the ex-killer chided, "You're such a lady! I didn't raise you to be such a wuss."

I glared at him half-heartedly while he went to get one of the many hair ties I left here. Only after he was gone from the room did I take time to examine my injury. Apart from the place where he kneed me, everything else seemed to be relatively minor. The cut will heal in three days so I wasn't too concerned. My solar plexus area would spot a huge ugly bruise later tonight and will last a good week before it disappears.

"Still admiring your beauty, princess?"

I growled as he passed me the hair tie. Pulling my blond locks into a messy bun, I reached for the med kit and starting dressing my wounds. Nash was unharmed from our sparring session and he wasn't even breathless! Apart from the fact that he blinked more than usual, nothing else indicated his discomfort. A part of me wanted to smack him for looking so smug but I didn't want to die young so I refrained.

"You might want to wash your eyes. It could last for a while since I increased the dosage significantly."

Nash nodded dumbly and left for the bathroom, leaving me to tend to my wounds. I hissed as the disinfectant stung. This had to be one of the most intense sparring sessions we've had in a while. The last time he drew blood was a few months ago. Even then, it was a close combat knife throwing competition.

By the time Nash returned, I was already putting the med kit away. "How are things in the Slums of late?"

Nash sighed. "Nothing different… just missing people and the usual stuff." He tossed me the news tablet and I caught it mid-air before plopping down on the couch beside him, not missing the edge in his voice. Missing Person Found Dead. The headlines screamed at me and I scrolled down a little more to read.

Mia Elliot, a woman in her early hundreds, was found dead two days ago. Reported missing several months back, no one could have imagined finding a body in the middle of the wastelands. Mia's body was found intact, half-decomposed by Eric Maelstrom, a waste recycler. We now interview Maelstrom how he had made his shocking discovery…

I skipped the interview, knowing not to believe everything the tabloid has to offer. Nothing special stood out. There wasn't a description of the condition of her body except that it was an unfortunate accident. The entire story was fishy. Natural deaths left no bodies. New-Man turned into ice crystals and shatter upon death unless the cause of death was unnatural. Moreover, no sane man in the Slums would venture so deep into the wastelands unless they were part of the underworld. There was some greater evil at work.

Scrolling further, a picture of Mia Elliot was found. She had blonde hair and navy blue eyes that were common features after genetic mutations. However, my heart froze when I recognised her. I was hoping it to be someone different with the same name. Mia Elliot… a few years ago this name wouldn't have mattered but now, her death left a hole inside of me.

"You're really good at this! What's this called?" I showed her a colourful cloth with cute little animals sewn on it. I've never seen anything so cheerful in the Inner City. Most of the clothes worn were designed by the tailors.

"Oh, that's just a handkerchief. Do you like it? You can have it if you want."

I stared at the adorable kitten. All land creatures had died out with the Great Explosion apart from New-Man. It was hard to find any pictures of them. Here on the handkerchief were depictions of them in the most appealing forms I have ever seen. Granted, they weren't the most accurate depictions with their eyes too large and bodies too small. However, they were adorable.

"I don't want it. I want you to teach me how you do it."

The woman laughed. "You're a strange kid." With a twinkle in her eye, a gentle hand ruffled my short blond strands. "It's fine though. I can teach you how to embroider. My name is Mia, what is yours?"

"Titus. Titus Crowley." My hand went to touch my head where she had patted me. It wasn't a bad feeling at all.

I remembered how I visited her more and more frequently, hanging out until Pyros had retired for the day. Nash used to pull me by the ear and drag me back when I didn't return on time. Now though, I would stop by occasionally to check out her newer masterpieces. However, two months ago Mia vanished without a trace. Not even Nash knew where she went despite his vast connections with the underground in the Slums.

A hand rested on my shoulder and I glanced up from the article. There was Nash, calm as ever. "Are you going to check it out?"

I returned the news tablet and put on my hoodie again. "I'll let you know when I find something."

A tired-sounding sigh escaped Nash and he nodded numbly as I prepared to leave. "I should have known."

He stood up and walked over. I half expected him to flick my forehead but nothing of that sort happened. Instead, a gentle pat on my head had me speechless for a moment. "Live strong," he whispered.

It was the motto of people in the Slums. I was about to return the greeting when it hit me like a meteor what had been bothering me this whole time.

"Nash!"

The bearded man c****d an eyebrow to which I grinned. "I forgot the Pantiumite again. Can I send them by drones?"

Nash shook his head at my forgetfulness with an exaggerated annoyed expression. "Dear me, is this how I taught you to be? Whatever… do as you deem fit."

I grinned as Nash shooed me away. Mia's death was still heavy on my mind but I was glad for Nash's unwavering support, as dependable as always.

I made a promise not to kill for credits and I intend to uphold it.

However, killing for personal reasons doesn't count. Does it?