“The murder was timed perfectly. The target had no hope.
Never call the victim by their name. It personalizes the situation and you will hesitate as you realize what you are doing. The advice seeped into The Comrade’s mind as he threw the knife. It was a perfect hit, like always. The Comrade’s real name was Braydon, but nobody called him that. He had enhanced senses that allowed him to track things easily.”
The Comrade… Part I
The murder was timed perfectly. The target had no hope.
Never call the victim by their name. It personalizes the situation and you will hesitate as you realize what you are doing. The advice seeped into The Comrade’s mind as he threw the knife. It was a perfect hit, like always. The Comrade’s real name was Braydon, but nobody called him that. He had enhanced senses that allowed him to track things easily.
There was a meaty thunk as the knife passed into the target’s arteries. The Comrade stepped out to end the job.
The sweet satisfaction of a kill. Especially this one. The target would pay for his arm with her life.
The Comrade was one of the deadliest bounty hunters on earth. He did not know why the client wanted the target dead. He did not know who the target really was. A good hunter does not ask these questions. A good hunter does not hesitate to finish off the kill. The Comrade had been on many missions before, and it showed. Bullet wounds, knife scars, burns… fruitless attempts of a victim fighting back. There had been one incident where the victim had survived. Once again, now the survivor was no longer.
Comrade would have been a normal boy, growing up in a normal school in Cornwall, and followed in his dad’s footsteps as a butcher, if not for the war… or the Neutralizer.
15 years earlier in the year 7062…
Cornwall, The Constipated States of Russia, Formerly Europe
The bombing was ceaseless. Braydon knew he wouldn’t last long. He was huddled next to his mother on the floor of an evacuation shelter. He dreamt of better times and fell asleep with the rhythmic BOOM of the bombs. He awoke to his mother shaking him, the panicked look on her face causing an adrenaline rush. The bunker had been bombed, and now it was a smoking hole. Braydon and his mother rushed out as the rebels started to storm the bunker. He was lucky none of them saw him.
Suddenly, three rebels popped out of a dark corner and started shooting at him and his mom. He never saw his mother again.
In the span of about two seconds, the rebels were on the ground, dead. The sound of a jetpack made him snap around to behold the sight of The Neutralizer. He was decked out in full titanium armour with a strong blaster in his hand, a heavy sniper slung across his back, which was one of the newest models. He had a bullet carrier across his chest and leg and a cape across his back. He had an extra titanium jetpack in his hand. The helmet and knives strapped to his legs identified him as part of The Watch.
The Watch was a mysterious group that existed before the rebels. Nobody knew which side they were on, but now Braydon knew they were going to help.
There was a rebel sneaking up behind the warrior. Before Braydon could tell him, with alarming and cunning speed the Neutralizer swung around and shot him. The rebel fell to the ground dead. The warrior held out the jetpack to him.
“Is this for me?” Braydon asked cautiously, the excitement building in him. The Neutralizer said nothing. Must not be a very talkative guy, Braydon thought. He took the jetpack warily, as if it might explode in his hands. He felt the cool metal soothe his skin as he strapped in. The Neutralizer pressed a button on his wrist guard, and suddenly Braydon shot up into the air. The weightlessness made him feel giddy as he landed on top of a building.
“Come with me. You may call me Commander. Do not try anything or you shall have a terrible fate.” The warrior’s deep voice echoed through his helmet.
“You mean, kill me?” Braydon stuttered.
“There are worse things than dying,” was the reply as he blasted off. Braydon found the button on the side of the jetpack, popping out a joystick in front of him which he could control. He followed the “Commander” through the bombs of terror. He glanced down and saw the scene he had fled, gazing at the destruction and hollowness.
As Braydon and the warrior landed in a small dark alleyway, there was the pitter-patter of footsteps, and then a sharp cry of death. They both landed silently. The Neutralizer told him in silent language to stay and be quiet. Braydon watched silently from the corner as he took out his blaster pistol and walked along the hard ground. He looked once, lifted his pistol, and shot. The other enemy shot at the exact same time and the shots bounced off each other multiple times before flying away. They both gave a hearty laugh, embraced, and began to walk away. Braydon started to walk toward them but not before he spotted a small frilly dress rush past him in an alleyway. He thought it must be another refugee. Five minutes later, trailing the two warriors, he had the impression that someone was watching him. He swung around to catch a glimpse once again of a polka dot dress, this time catching a little bit of the girl’s hair.
“Hey wait! Who are you?” he shouted. He ran to where he had last seen her and just saw her round a corner.
Giggling erupted from somewhere behind a wall. Braydon silently walked toward the sound, a smile spreading on his face. He jumped forward and said, “Gotcha little skunk!”
The girl smiled and said shyly, “Hi. I’m Marybelle, but you can call me Mary.”
“Hi, I’m Braydon. Why are you following me?” Braydon asked timidly, helping the girl up. Marybelle looked like she had just woken up from the ground. Her dress was caked with mud, and her hair was messy, sticking to her face which was covered in grime, but held a certain gleam to it which made her look pretty.
“I was following metal man,” she replied. “He saved me.”
“He saved me too,” Braydon said quietly. “Speaking of which…” The warriors were far away, and both Braydon and Marybelle were out of breath when they caught up.
“Commander,” huff, “where are you,” huff, “taking us?” asked Braydon.
The Commander and his buddy turned around. “Us?” he questioned. He acknowledged the little girl and said gruffly, “No friends along.”
“But… she said she was rescued too…” Braydon protested.
“Oh. That’s my sack. Ahaha,” his buddy “Ex-Commando” explained.
Marybelle ran up to “Ex-Commando” and hugged him. “Metal man,” she said, pointing to the man.
Braydon gave a small laugh, which sparked giggles out of Marybelle. She was like a little ball of sunshine. She must have been only about five years old. Braydon couldn’t stand to think that people as young as her would be facing this war.
“Come now, children. You must prepare,” the Commander ordered. Braydon followed him to a door set in a stone wall. He hit it with some sort of pattern, and they waited. About ten seconds later some sort of spyball popped out and viewed all of the customers. The spyball retracted, and a grinding sound emerged from the door as it swung inside. They all walked though into the hall. The hall was long, with no pictures or paintings, and made out of pure marble. More “metal men” were on the side of the hall, cleaning their weapons. They all stared as Braydon walked though.
“You found a sapling?” one of the warriors grunted.
“Yeah. The first one too!” Commander boasted. “They’re going to get the best armour.”
The Commander led Braydon away from Marybelle and brought him through a hallway to a metal door. Braydon heard a faint clanging coming from inside.
“Put these on. Then you might not die,” Commander laughed again. He handed out something that looked like a foil cap with eye coverings. Braydon didn’t know how you would be able to see through them, but he put them on. Suddenly, his vision was enhanced. He could see things with intense clarity, from the texture on the Commander’s helmet to the finest grain of sand on the ground.
“So… can you see anything?” the Commander asked.
“Y-Y-Yeah.. Everything looks so… pure!” Braydon stammered, looking around.
“He is the Chosen One…” the Commander said under his breath. Braydon acted like he didn’t hear him. The last thing he wanted was more attention.
The Commander knocked on the door three times, and the door opened. Inside, Braydon saw an armory. The clanking sound grew louder, and Braydon could see an Armourer hammering a piece of titanium into what looked like a chestpiece.
“The sapling is here, old one.” The armourer turned around, and Braydon saw her gold helmet.
“Gooooood,” the Armourer dragged out. “His armour is ready.”
“I believe him to be the Chosen One, Master,” the Commander explained. “He can see through the glasses.
5 years later…
Braydon was only 14, and yet he already felt his power growing. He could sense people without seeing them, hear things from more than a mile away, and see things in clarity. He had been admitted into the creed of the Watch when they discovered his powers. They had changed his armour to be smaller, so now he could stay safe from enemies. He had been given two blaster pistols as well as a considerably weak sniper which would only damage his target.
This new mission was the hardest mission yet. He was to assassinate Will Hye, a Russian spy who worked for the Soviet Hye. This would be his first time on an assassination mission.
Braydon had been given the nickname “Comrade” because of how loyal he was to his teammates. This time he had been given the other child in the creed: Marybelle. Marybelle was only 9, but she was still experienced. She was a much better sniper than Braydon was, which made him envy her. She had the same armour as Braydon’s except for the blue design on the front of her helmet and limbs.
They were camped out on a building very high. Marybelle was to snipe Will Hye, and if the shot missed, Braydon would go down on his jetpack and gun him down with his pistols. This mission was sure to be a success.
Will Hye had just finished a meeting with another spy, Bill Nye. The two spies had been discussing plans on how to invade the Constipated States. They had decided to discuss these plans with their boss. Little did they know, that meeting wouldn’t happen.
As Will walked out of the building, he felt like someone had punched him. He stepped back a few steps. People were screaming all around him, but he couldn’t figure out what all the fuss was about. Then he looked down and saw the blood spilling out. His eyes began to swim, and black spots clouded his vision. The screams grew softer, and he could barely see. Will tried shouting, but no sound came out. He fell down and sunk into black oblivion.
The mission was complete.