[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/211127/9bf352ac7b558ca884c84f55b56737a0.png[/img][/center]

[hr][hr][hr]


“No questions. I have my directive.”


Artemisia - or “Titan” as her superiors also liked to call her - set out on her task as she had done countless times before. Orders came, details and conditions were provided, and the cyborg fitted herself properly and raced out for her target. She was armed only with her twin pistols, both equipped with suppressors to give her a stealthy edge. She also had a beacon to be activated when she secured the syndicate ship and it’s cargo. On her signal a team would come in low by chopper and secure the vessel and the prototype aboard and her mission would be complete.

Artemisia knew nothing of this prototype other than it was a weapons module of some sort, the only of it’s kind currently. She knew nothing of this criminal syndicate who she was told intended to hawk this new weapon system to belligerents in third world countries, for mere profiteering at that. However  she imagined there was actually a bit more to it, such as perhaps this syndicate having an unseen interest in these tumultuous countries, or even some kind of personal or moral tie. This mattered not of course and the cyborg shook the last of her stray thoughts from her mind as she crossed the waters of Tenebrae. Her boat slicing through the otherwise calm sapphire waves as she approached the yacht. 


Artemisia abandoned her boat about three hundred yards away from the yacht. It was a simple civil model skiff and - if not recovered - it would simply be written off by any who found it as someone hadn’t tied their boat tight enough to the pier and it had drifted out into the harbor. Securing her weapons at her hips she dove headfirst into the cool water and began taking broad strokes just beneath the surface. Artemisia’s artificial limbs and lungs allowed for her to move at a constant fast pace and take deep breaths of air to keep down under the water and stay concealed.

It took her estimated two minutes to cross the long gap between her now adrift boat and the syndicate yacht. Artemisia raised up from the water slowly, eyes scanning the railing along the side of the vessel. A single guard walked by, clad in black with a kevlar vest on and balaclava covering his face. Artemisia hoisted herself up over the railing and moved in behind the guard. With a swift calculated motion the cyborg grabbed and twisted his head, snapping his neck. No sooner than his body hit the deck than his one of his comrades turned the far corner, catching a glimpse of the fallen guard just before a bullet caught him between the eyes killing him as well.

Artemisia was a weapon, and as a weapon she was meant to be efficient and surgical. And that she was, moving stealthily across the topside like a reaper in the dark. She killed two more men near the bow of the ship, shooting them both in the back of their heads as they had stood idly chatting away. She killed the the fifth and sixth men atop the observation deck, two more snapped necks, the second to fall had been unaware of his now dead comrade nearby in his final seconds. Artemisia checked the bridge and top deck lounge before she went below deck, killing another guard in the bridge and two more in the lounge as they slept, the last falling to the floor gurgling and coughing from a gunshot to the throat.

[i]Ten down. The leads and the rest are below deck.[/i]

There were four “bosses” below and ten more men with them. However she had no idea where the four primary targets were located and decided that continuing with stealth was her best option. [i]I should grab one of the guards and make him talk,[/i] Artemisia thought reloading her pistols, [i]if he refuses… then the heavy handed approach it is.[/i] She felt a wave of annoyance wash through her as she made her way down into the lower deck from a stairway across the lounge. She couldn’t risk even one target getting away so an open firefight was out of the question. As she reached the bottom of the stairs Artemisia activated the beacon she had been given. It would take the cleanup team about six minutes to get across the harbor from where they were waiting and roughly another minute for the chopper to take position so they could fast rope descend. Artemisia imagined by the time they reached the ship and took up position she would be making a move on the syndicate leaders themselves. [i]If I happen to arouse suspicion and the targets try to flee - even if they get past me to the top deck - they’ll run right into the cleanup team.[/i]

Artemisia encountered the first two guards as she rounded a hallway, meeting them head on. Most would have hesitated if even for a second which was all it would take for the enemy to shout and sound the alarm or open fire. Artemisia instead reacted instantaneously bringing up her pistols and firing, peppering the two wide eyed guards with shots. As the two fell dead the tall cyborg strode forward, empty shell casings rolling from her boots like fleeing insects. [i]Fortunately for me they were not wearing body armor.[/i] Artemisia cursed herself for such carelessness and moved on. 

The luxury yacht wasn’t a large ship thankfully, all the bedrooms were on the second deck floor. Within the first four bedrooms Artemisia checked she found three sleeping men, the discarded weapons and equipment in their rooms telling her they were among the guards. Each time she slunk in like the shadow of death itself, using the short retractable blades in the end of her fingers to slice open their throats staring coldly into their shocked visages as they strangled on their own blood. She found two more guards in a small lounge in the middle of the second deck and killed them both as then happened on a small map of the second deck in the lounge. There was a bar and billiard room on the far side of the second deck, odds were the four targets would be there. Passing on her interrogation idea Artemisia decided to kill everyone else between her and her targets. It was then she heard the familiar buzzing of a helicopter through a nearby window. [i]Time to finish this.[/i]

On her way through the ship Artemisia encountered the last three guards lurking the hallways alone, killing them all with well placed headshots from around corners. She also came across a pair of stewards, indiscriminately killing them as well with no second thought. Artemisia had no worry of consequences for such actions of course, after all it was an understanding that in such operations small amounts of collateral damage was acceptable. 

Artemisia’s four targets were indeed all in the billiard and bar room, two playing a game of pool in fact and the other two lounging at the bar nearby. The door burst open, snapping off its hinges in fact from there cyborg’s strength, the four men scrambling from what they were doing.

[i]One.[/i] Artemisia fired her raised pistols, one of the men at the bar falling dead, a smoking hole in his forehead. [i]Two.[/i] The other at the bar dropped dead next to his cohort. The two other men had cast away their pool sticks by now and were frantically drawing their guns. [i]Three.[/i] The third collapse to his knees, grasping his chest as blood poured staining his white dress shirt before falling onto his side. The fourth brought up his pistol and squeezed off a shot, the bullet making its mark striking Artemisia on the underside of her left forearm. There was a sharp metallic sound paired with the tearing of flesh, the cyborg woman not even flinching. [i]Four.[/i]


“Let’s go, three by two’s!” Black clad operatives in helmets and Kevlar scuttled down the stairs onto the second deck weapons raised. The top deck was clear and secure and now the second squad was sent to secure the below decks area and the prototype as well. The squad leader feeling a jolt as he saw a tall figure approaching him from down the hall but shouted for the men at his back to hold fire seeing that it was Titan. The tall female cyborg sauntered toward them casually, twirling her pistols down and into their holsters.

“Targets eliminated, the prototype is in the cargo holds below.” 

“You can confirm that?” Asked the leader.

Artemisia nodded and stepped aside as the men rushed past her boots clapping the floor in a chorus. The last target had taken a shot in the knee, wounding him and leaving the immobilized syndicate leader begging for his life. Desperate for some sort of mercy deal he willingly squealed in the end, telling Artemisia of the weapons prototype down in the holds in some vein hope he could trade it for being allowed to live and escape. In the end all he for was a bullet in the brain. Artemisia had expected the prototype was down below but she was happy for the confirmation. She doubted the man was lying seeing as how manic he was and even if he somehow was the cleanup crew could simply tear the yacht apart and find what they were looking forward.

The mission was complete and as Artemisia ascended to the top deck, ignoring the quick salutes of the men she passed, she felt the usual satisfaction at her precision. A sort of grim pride at her continuing surgical skills as an operative. A pride that as always swelled within as she boarded the waiting chopper.