the Sixteenth Surgeon

Chapter 15 "The Broken Mirror"

Carla unzipped a duffel bag angrily. With tears in her eyes and everything tinted in red, she began stuffing every gun she could fit into the bag. She opened a padded case with a few syringes inside and considered when to use them. She was going on a hunt. Carla put a baseball cap on to keep her hair out of her eyes as she adjusted her secretary glasses for enhanced night vision. She looked up at the picture of her when she was younger and Roman standing beside her, like a proud teacher or a surrogate parent. She grabbed her BMG from the shelf and racked the round out of the chamber. She picked it up and switched on the TV, sitting down with a glass of wine and a black permanent marker. She wrote the word "Shiva" on each round as she placed them in the massive magazine one at a time. She wanted his blood for Roman's honor.

The lights clicked on in a dark garage, a rather impressive charcoal-grey Mustang on the risers and a very terrified mechanic sobbing in his chair, tape around his face, hands and ankles. He did even know what hit him, but he assumed he was a dead man. Shiva limped to the Chair and sat down, placing his detached arm on the bench to repair. The faint growl of a loyal dog filled the otherwise silent garage as she tinkered, placing the arm in a vice and determining how to straighten the bent actuator and broken femur. The dog hunkered down and bit his ankle to defend his master. Shiva didn't react until he found himself distracted by the movement. He made a stomping motion, ending the annoyance with a high pitch yelp as he worked, drilling and pinning the carbon fiber femur with a few metal plates. As he finished the repairs, he rummaged through the locker for a new mask. He found an old paintball mask that looked suitable, removing the strap and placing down a few small pieces of sheet metal for additional armor. He turned to the Chrome wheel of the muscle car and used the reflection to fasten the mask to his face with some sheet metal screws and a powered driver. Shiva finished removing the damaged actuator and re-attaching his arm, effectively fixing it for the time being. He stomped to the captive mechanic and ripped the tape off his mouth.

"Your Credit card and keys are required." he said robotically.

"Kitchen table, Wallet in the wooden bowl. Please don't hurt my daughter." he begged.

"You're daughter is Matilda Fletcher, age 12." he listed. The man sobbed and nodded. "That name is not listed for Surgery. She is of no relevance." he said coldly heading to the kitchen for keys and a card.

The grey car rumbled up to a sporting goods store and parked on the street. He stepped out and casually twisted off the handle to enter. He made his selection of guns and ammunition, replaced his vest and began constructing a series of makeshift pipe-bombs from the reloading powder and some percussion caps. The files regarding Carla and her tactics scrolled down the left side of his visual display as he made preparations.

Carla sprayed a can of green paint lightly over her rifle, removing the foliage she was using as a stencil and double checked her security app on her phone, panning the cameras a little to be sure. Roman's summer home was a small fortress, but she didn't want to keep Shiva out, she just wanted his options narrowed to one way inside. She heard a blip and the lights went red, turning down to night mode as she made her way to the front and propped the rifle against a tree, covering it with foliage and rushing back to the Terrace where she had an even bigger gun already on a bipod. She pulled the bolt from the gun and laid out a box marked .950 JDJ on the side. It contained a series of bullets closer to the size of an energy-drink than a rifle round. She clipped the bold receiver to the 3600 grain bullet and admired the incendiary color bands on the bronze projectile. She chambered it and got into position. A blue town car approached the gate at a very alarming speed. The sound of a gunshot opened the lock to allow the car to ram its way through and head down the driveway. She waited till it reached the part of the path that was aligned with her position for a steady shot. She adjusted for wind, and elevation for a 2000 yard shot and took a deep breath.