Voyt tossed down the briefcase in front of the old man and his small group of suit clad bodyguards. The Jackal winced as the case hit the sandy floor with a thud and looked up at Voyt with a frown.
“It’s padded” the gunslinger said with a shrug “Your little science project’ll be fine.”
“Be that as it may” The Jackal replied, making a genuine effort to keep up his facade of an affable businessman “There’s a good few vials missing inside this case.”
Voyt frowned slightly. “You oughta know by now that the arena’s lost. Few gang members targeted the tourney a while back and now the building itself is under attack from these machines, strange stuff.”
“Yes I’d heard that” The Jackal said with a slight nod “Regardless you are missing some of the targets I requested, but given that there’s about to be far too much media attention on Brazil than I’d like we have no choice but to wrap things up. The funds are being left where we agreed, with a penalty for not completing the contract fully.”
If Voyt was angered by this development he didn’t show it, continuing to stare at ‘The Jackal’ which was beginning to unnerve some of businessman's hired help, The Jackal himself seemed unfazed however.
“Now, Mr. Voyt if that’s our business concluded I must bid-”
“I don’t rightly get you old man.” The cowboy said suddenly, cutting the “old man” off. The Jackal seemed slightly taken aback by this before retorting with a hint of bemusement.
“Nor do I you Mr. Voyt.” He said with a condescending smirk “Are you a killer with a conscience or is that perhaps the persona you just strive to have? Maybe it’s just something to help you sleep at night? You are a mercenary my boy, a hired killer, if you believe that I am the morally bankrupt of the two of us, then what exactly does that say about those under my employ?”
“What are you planning to do with those vials of blood?” Voyt asked, ignoring The Jackal’s question.
The Jackal sighed in annoyance “For a reputable assassin who claims to ask no details you are surprisingly incapable of doing so. My contract followed your guidelines and your payment has been delivered.” The Jackal’s patience noticeably began to wane as he glared at Voyt “Our business is concluded.”
Voyt wordlessly put one hand on a revolver at his side, prompting The Jackal’s men to draw their weapons and train them on the gunslinger. The Jackal shook his head as he rested a hand on his forehead.
“This could have gone by so much quicker.” he muttered before looking up at Voyt with a frown “It’s for research purposes. I’ve been working with a few PMC’s and other aristocrats in England on developing ki artificially, through a serum or a pill, anything of that nature that keeps people coming back for more. The blood is to analyze talented ki users further, we couldn't exactly ask you to bring in a complete body, we’re trying to be discreet here as you can understand.”
Voyt paused, as if registering The Jackal’s words. “That’s insanity.” he finally said “I don’t know much about ki but I know it doesn’t work like that, you’re wasting your time.”
“Perhaps to someone without ambition, such as yourself, it may seem that way. But it’s a project with a very lucrative end goal. Progress may be slow but whether it is from your contributions or something else we will get there in the end, of that I am certain.” The Jackal said with a frown, dismissively tapping his cane against the ground.
“You’ve been given all that you requested and more. We are now through here. Good day to you Mr.-”
The Jackal’s words were interrupted as a bullet pierced itself into his stomach. The old man fell backwards and collided against the wall of the building behind him. Watching helplessly as the gunslinger, with the speed and aim of a demon, shot down each of his men, some before they even had a chance to place their fingers on the trigger. He looked up to see one of his men who’d been posted on the roof see this carnage and turn to run, the cowboy looked up and wordlessly fired his revolver at a weather vane on the far corner, the bullet ricocheted and disappeared further onto the roof before a cry of pain rung out, followed by silence and then a sudden and loud thud on the ground on the other side of the building, then nothing.
“Bloody, f-fucking mercenaries…” The Jackal managed to spit out, Voyt approaching him menacingly. Despite pressing one hand against his bloodied stomach, The Jackal mustered up enough strength to look up at his former employee.
“So… What was it then?” He asked, struggling with the words but managing to bring them out regardless “Change of h-heart? Those people you’ve k-k-killed. Died. For nothing! You haven’t accomplished anything here, all you’ve done is sign a death warrant for y-yourself, for what? Honor!?”
“You mistake my intentions old man” Voyt said, kneeling down to stare him in the eyes “I never was working for you, I was sent here by my employers to keep an eye on you and deal with you if and when it seemed you were going to be trouble down the line.” Voyt stood back up, un-holstering his gun.
“All I’m after is money.”
At this, The Jackal paused, letting it all seep in. Oddly, a small smile crept across his face, despite his condition he let out a small spiteful chuckle, coating his lips and chin in flecks of blood. He stared at Voyt with his unsettling grin.
“As was I lad.” he said “As was I.”
The two stayed still for a moment before the old man shut his eyes. Voyt lifted his revolver and fired into the old man’s head, the shot ringing out in the silence. Voyt began walking away, holstering his gun and pressing two of his fingers against his right ear.
“It’s done” he said to no one.
A reply came, sounding neither male nor female. Not quite mechanical either, Voyt could only describe it as ‘wrong’.
“Good.” It said “Did you find the target?”
“I did. Met up with him in town. Could’ve killed him then and there, but he got away.”
“Unfortunate, but he'll show himself again. He always does. If he knew anything, he'd leave Rio, after all...”
“If you say so.” Voyt said unenthusiastically.
“Your payment is where we agreed. Get back here ASAP for new orders.”
Then, with a sudden beep, the voice was gone.
Voyt placed a hand on the edge of his hat and lowered it over his eyes as he continued walking, kicking up dust as he went along. Brazil had dealt with enough chaos ever since this tournament had begun, Voyt was more or less pleased he was now going to stop adding to it. The cowboy strode towards the bright orange sun as he slowly disappeared over the horizon.