Chapter 193 Assasination Attempt
In the dimly lit expanse of his home office, Benjamin Prescott's smoldering anger continued to consume him. He recognized the inadequacy of his immediate resources to address the dire situation he faced. With desperation driving him, he turned to a more sinister solution, one that relied on his membership with the Syndicate Union. Fully aware of the limitations of his membership rank, he understood that securing the services to eliminate Daniel required the influence of a higher-ranking operative. His options were constrained, but he had to make do.
Releasing a heavy sigh, Prescott dialed the Syndicate Union's contact number. Swiftly, the call connected, and a voice marked by professionalism answered, its tone neutral as if attending to any ordinary customer inquiry.
"This is the operator speaking. How may I assist you today?" the voice inquired, its professionalism unwavering.
Prescott gathered his resolve, his voice poised but carrying the weight of his urgent situation. "I am in need of the Syndicate Union's services."
"Of course, sir. May I have your membership ID?" the operator asked, maintaining her composed demeanor.
Without hesitation, Prescott provided the necessary information. After a brief processing moment, the operator's tone retained its steady quality. "Thank you, Mr. Prescott. Please hold the line momentarily."
A brief pause followed before the operator's voice returned, its professionalism intact. "Mr. Prescott, before we proceed, may I kindly inquire about the specific task for which you require our services? Additionally, could you please indicate the proposed reward for the successful execution of this task?"
Prescott's features hardened, understanding the gravity of his impending decision. "The task pertains to an assassination. I am willing to offer a reward of 3 million USD upon successful completion."
The operator acknowledged his response in a measured manner. "Understood, Mr. Prescott. Thank you for providing the details. Furthermore, I must apprise you that the Syndicate Union operates with an operating fee of 10% of the stated reward. This fee is allocated to the maintenance and coordination of our network."
As Prescott grappled with the notion of relinquishing a portion of the substantial sum he had mentioned, he reminded himself that the operation fee ensured safety and anonymity for the hirer. This secure platform shielded those who wished to employ an assassin. "Very well, I accept the operating fee."
"Thank you, Mr. Prescott," the operator's response remained steady and composed. "One final piece of information is required to proceed: the identity of the target. Please provide the name and any relevant details for us to accurately address this matter."
Prescott found himself momentarily frozen, his fingers tapping restlessly against the desk as he grappled with the magnitude of his decision. With a heavy sigh, he uttered the name that epitomized his frustration and unfulfilled aspirations. "The target is Supreme General Nicholas Sullivan."
The operator noted down the provided information efficiently. "Thank you for providing the details, Mr. Prescott. Your request has been approved and added to the Syndicate Union job board. Our skilled operatives will review and consider your proposal. You will receive further communication once an agreement has been reached. Is there anything else you would like to add or inquire about?"
Prescott's internal turmoil continued to gnaw at him, a blend of anxiousness and hope intertwining within. "No, that will be all for now."
"Very well. We appreciate your cooperation, Mr. Prescott. Expect to hear from us soon," the operator concluded before concluding the call.
As the connection ended, Prescott found himself muttering with a blend of desperation and fervor, "This better work," his plea directed at whatever force, God or Satan, that might offer assistance in his time of need.
— 2 Hours Later —
After two hours of waiting, Prescott's phone rang, and he quickly picked it up. The operator's voice came through, clear and professional, with a hint of congratulations.
"Mr. Prescott, your job has been successfully assigned to one of our operatives. Congratulations! Please be aware that our policy of guaranteed success will be enacted only after two consecutive failures. In the case of a third failure, we will undertake the task free of charge, on the condition that you adjust the reward as we have previously recommended," the operator explained.
Curious, since this was his first time using the Syndicate Union's services, Prescott inquired, "What happens if the third attempt fails?"
"There are two regulations, sir. First, we will refund the entire reward amount to you and re-evaluate the situation. Second, we will inform you of the details after the incident. However, let us assure you that such a situation has never occurred in the Tessia Kingdom. We don't believe you'll be the first, sir," the operator replied, her tone reassuring.
"That's good to hear," Prescott responded. Although he still had some dissatisfaction due to his lack of knowledge about the second regulation, the assurance of a refund was enough for him to let the matter rest.
— 3 Days Later —
As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting elongated shadows across the cityscape, the atmosphere was tinged with a sense of anticipation and tension. Dusk settled in, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, and the city's hustle and bustle gradually gave way to a quieter, more contemplative ambiance.
On a rooftop overlooking a particularly strategic intersection, the assassin set up his sniper nest. He meticulously assembled his equipment, carefully checking the lens of his high-powered rifle, ensuring that every component was in perfect working order. His experience and skill were evident in the way he moved with practiced ease, blending into the shadows as if he were a part of them.
Observing from his vantage point, the assassin's keen eyes scanned the streets below, searching for any sign of his target. His heart quickened as a familiar armored car turned the corner, its windows clad in a sleek black futuristic stealth suit materialized out of thin air. The assassin's eyes widened in alarm, but it was too late. The tinted and bodyguards flanking it. He adjusted his grip on the rifle, his fingers feeling the cold metal as he lined up the crosshairs with the vehicle's windows.
Just as he was about to squeeze the trigger, a faint rustling sound behind him caught his attention. Before he could react, a figure clad in a sleek black futuristic stealth suit materialized out of thin air. The assassin's eyes widened in alarm, but it was too late. The soldier, moving with remarkable swiftness and precision, delivered a swift blow to the assassin's neck with a dart gun.
The sleeping dart punctured the air with a soft hiss, striking the assassin's neck. His vision blurred, his movements slowed, and he struggled to maintain his balance. As the tranquilizing effects took hold, his grip on the rifle slackened, and he slumped against the edge of the rooftop.
Meanwhile, the soldier observed the fallen assassin with a calm demeanor. The suit's advanced technology rendered him nearly invisible. Carefully, the soldier pushed at the side of his sleek, futuristic full-head helmet and began to report the incident to the Supreme General.
"Sir, as you expected, we found an assassin on one of the roofs along the route you regularly use to go home. I have already incapacitated him. Requesting support of a vehicle to extract him to a secure location for interrogation, sir," the soldier reported through the built-in communication device within the helmet.
The commanding and authoritative voice of the Supreme General responded from the other side inside the helmet.
"Good. The vehicle will be there shortly. Be on standby," the General stated, then resumed enjoying his journey home, seemingly unfazed by the situation. In his heart, he felt gratitude towards Daniel for providing experimental technologies like the stealth suits. These suits had proven invaluable for equipping his personal guards.
In fact, the General had gone to great lengths to modify his car, transforming it into a futuristic vehicle reminiscent of those seen in sci-fi movies. The vehicle boasted a protective shield capable of resisting explosive blasts and projectiles. It even had the ability to withstand the impact of modern anti-tank missiles. This transformation was possible due to the advanced technology he had at his disposal.
With these advanced technologies under his control, he felt an unshakable confidence. He knew he had the means to defend himself against any threat, with the exception of Daniel, whom he regarded as a super soldier possessing unparalleled abilities. The General recalled the absurd yet promising technologies he had encountered during his visit to Daniel's company. Despite the high cost and experimental nature of some items, such as the stealth suits, he had acquired them, a decision he now viewed as wise and forward-thinking.
Now, the wisdom of his choices had become evident as he equipped his soldiers with cutting-edge equipment and technology, positioning himself and his forces at the forefront of preparedness and protection. He began to contemplate the next significant step that had been on his mind for a while.
General Sullivan glanced at his secretary, who was seated in front of the car, and spoke with determination.
"Contact Mr. Emberweave regarding volunteering for the augmented soldier project. Inform him that I will be the first to step forward as a volunteer," General Sullivan said with a confident smile.
"Sir, I must express my concern. The project is still in the experimental stage and requires extensive field testing. Moreover, considering your age…" The secretary attempted to dissuade his superior, highlighting the fact that the Supreme General's advanced age might not make him an ideal candidate for testing such a project.
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