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| Dirty Conscience https://forums.nukesilo.net/viewtopic.php?f=109&t=7346 |
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| Author: | Praphet [ 18 Feb 2009, 12:29 ] |
| Post subject: | Dirty Conscience |
((A Hit on Shawn Tyrone; Not a Character Kill, but a neat little interaction that I embellished liberally. Gotta have fun with my job, right?)) Templeton waited in the darkness of the dirty service corridor adjoining the mostly-abandoned tunnel, occasionally glancing out for traffic as the man in front of him, Shawn, unpacked a muddy briefcase, unpacking some of his wares. "All certifiable police weapons, brother," the man reiterated, running a gloved hand over the small arsenal of Glocks and Sig-Sauers; up top, a half-way assembled UMP submachine-gun rested, secure in padding. "You don't wanna know how much trouble it was to get my hands on..." "I bet not," Templeton said, rubbing his hands together in the cold. "The big one; UMP .45?" "That's what it looks like-- fully automatic, got an option for a two-shot burst fire mode, and of course semi auto... you likey, pal?" Templeton glanced up at Shawn, who hurriedly attached the stock to the weapon, flipping out a pair of fully-loaded magazines from the case. A shame,Arthur thought to himself. I'm going to kill this man with his own merchandise. "I do, indeed," Templeton said in a semi-hushed voice, glancing over his shoulder. "May I have a look?" The man passed over the unloaded weapon, still holding the two magazines. Templeton looked it over, testing it's weight. Clicking off the safety, the hitman stepped toward the seller, and with the knife-edge of his hand, he chopped the man in the throat; Shawn looked stunned, stumbling against the wall as Templeton grabbed one of the magazines from his hand, and loaded it into the UMP, chambering a round with an awful 'clack.' "Be careful who you steal from, Shawn." Templeton said, firing off a long burst of automatic fire that shredded through Shawn's torso, the shocked salesman flailing against the wall. "It can get you killed out here." Shawn slid down the wall to a final rest in the dirt and crumpled asphalt, and Templeton wiped off the trigger with a handkerchief, before stepping over the body again, pulling the trigger with the cloth over his index finger. The gun clicked empty, and the bullet-riddled body of Shawn seeped life into the earth beneath him. Tossing the UMP away, Templeton closed the briefcase, sealing it firmly shut. Taking a knee on his way out, he snapped a photo of the corpse with his cell-phone, dialing a number as he walked away with the discounted firearms. "Hello, it's Templeton. The job's done-- check your inbox. I expect the rest of the payment, same as usual." |
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