Chapter 1: The Oracle's Magnum.
I browse a small yellow folder and read the basics. I then briefly skim the map.
Date: July 12, 2085
Operation: Mutant Junkie
Operatives: Gideon, Daytona, and Oracle
Location: Estonia, Kopli Shipyard
Mission: Destroy all laboratories involved in the production of Red-Rad Anabolic Steroids. Kill any and all personnel, and interrogate and return with all valuable prisoners. Secondary mission: Attain a small vial of Red-Rad for analysis.

Flying through the air, I wonder this time if these ones deserve it. We don’t have coms. We don’t need them. Our chutes are minuscule; we brace for the impact with our energy. Our landings are unseen every time. We’re the best of the best. Gideon and Daytona land beside me with three newbies. They get us spotted, but we were expected. Blazing fire rains down on our cover of rusted steel cargo boxes. A newbie gets dropped as he tries to return fire. He’s expendable, a merc in the game for the money. A lesson that Cobb taught me is that power beats money. You live longer broke and bulletproof. Gideon makes the first move, force wall, predictable. Bullets bounce off of an invisible layer of easily imitable kinesis. If I could describe the tech I’d use the word rubber a lot. Two newbies stick their rifle tips through the barrier and return fire dropping six of fourteen attackers; these guys weren't half useless. Daytona launched her assault on the remaining eight. She was a defector from the Cambodian conclave. She knew every deep-side trick; good at trajectory striking. Daytona hurls eighty pounds of scrap metal skyward and hammers it down onto five bogies. The remaining three attempt retreat as reinforcements push through the nuclear remains towards them, but I drop them with a 44 Magnum at about a hundred and fifty yards. I hit them all in the back of the head then holster the cold steel in a sleeve beneath my left breast. It was quick; it was painless. Reinforcements arrive precisely as we planned and the overhead airstrike is a go. Three predators simultaneously rock the ground and clear our path; the newbies activate their wing suits and fly towards the laboratories. We keep up on foot. Gideon is the fastest; he leads and clears bogies as we go, always insistent that he go on a mission unarmed he punches his foes to death as he dashes past and crushes the concrete underneath him with every stride. None are able to get a shot off as they focus on the overhead wing suits. A throwing knife tears the wing off of one of the newbie’s suits and we stop a quarter mile short of the objective. The newbie plummets to the ground and scrapes his face on the asphalt. He gives me the thumbs down and I mercy waste him. Mercy.
“We've got champs!” I shout out as I find cover behind a small broken down van. The tarmac was crushed beneath my feet. No holding back now. Two champs split up and charged at Gideon from both sides. He realizes their strategy immediately; one goes high and the other low. He hits a small button on his Kevlar jumpsuit; it creates an after-image and he slips away from the onslaught. They catch it and slam after-images of their own into it creating a clustered mirage. They’re good; Gideon’s got the big one. Daytona on the small; I’m oddball. They charge him, and Daytona soars into the fight and engages the smaller of the two as the other is forced to engage Gideon.
“Oddball!” shouts Gideon as he blocks a wild superman punch.
The smaller one looked familiar; in fact I had glimpsed a look at his profile on the database about two or three months back. Name: Lancer; Specialty: Support; Ranking: Six-Star Commander. He was a tough one; Daytona wouldn't last long. I think I caught a look at his profile when I was getting debriefed for a mission in the Baltic. Some gunrunner; he wasn't the kingpin, but he was guarding a Mongolian training exercise I was ordered to monitor. He wasn't a terrorist; just a dark-sider from the moon conclave in southern Laos. Those f*ers leave us a ton of mess to clean up. Mid-way through their exercise he got into some heat from the local supers. A cryokinetic and a re-generator; the come at him at the same time cryo drops an ice wall and the re-generator slams through it attacking under cover. Shuriken bust the ice wall and rip through both supers. It was plain, simple, and effective.
It was go time. I charged him with immediacy and tapped twice forward on my hind foot for extra speed. He realized quickly and flung a car to block my shots, forcing me to the defensive. I slide on the asphalt to dodge the torn white Honda Civic. He was on me immediately, my legs were chafed. Back-step technique: Conclave 101. I kick the ground in front of me at max force and it throws me back. My back is on the car he had thrown as it soared and he was gaining I was eighteen feet in the air. Only my pistol and six feet separate us. I’m a good shot though; he charges and I hit twice on the shoulder. The shots bruise him and he backs off. I race towards him and he raises an earth ward. The tarmac splits beneath me and tainted soil rises as a shield for Lancer. I slide around as he engages Daytona once again. He sees the need for a quick kill. If I caught up I could easily drop him with Daytona’s help. She’s struggling as I advance on their position. He lands a jab and she stumbles back into an old SUV. It’s over; I’m not fast enough. Three stabs with a combat knife completely separate the aorta, and Daytona falls dead. No last words. Gideon screams. I expected him to. He loses no fight. I’m also partial to Daytona’s death. No tears, there is no time for tears. I consider retreat for a quick clone-and-scan of Daytona. We could save here image, her memories. She’d be the same person as before. Aborting the mission could mean my death another day. A nonreturnable death; these labs were a danger. Daytona was salvageable. Choices, you have to win to make them.
“Oddball!” Gideon shouts again. This time I listen; this time I have to. Daytona wasn't going to make it out alive. I was always getting out alive. I notice now that Oddball wasn't a reference to me. The last Newbie popped a clip on Lancer from a cargo box; I had a chance now. Newbie’s a hero; Lancer’s arm is missing. Unexpected event of the day, I charge and pull the trigger, barrel to face and Lancer falls dead. Gideon’s holding his ground; I wonder sometimes if I should help him when I finish. His target is significantly stronger as usual. Usually he wins by the time I’m done thinking. I leave him be.
“Finish the mission!” I shout as I grab Daytona’s lifeless body from the floor. “It’s just clean-up from here. “ Newbie number one’s wing suit still works. Gideon impales the larger one with a folded car door. I think his name was Titan. I get back to lab and give Daytona to the techies. She’s good as new in a week. Newbie three works for us now; goes by Oddball. He’s a f*ing hero I’ll admit. He saved me an earful from Cobb about life over mission. The Red-Rad came back from lab as positive for what we were looking for. Red-rad is a steroid that increases bodily energy flow, and immediately connects the user to the cosmos drawing out the power of their inner nature. Someone’s building an army. It was my job to find and kill them. Interrogations gave us a name; it was a former dark-sider from Cambodia. I’d fought him back in Moscow four years prior; Dante, scum.