Cracker Caper

The paper crinkled in his hands. Cetus stared at the dossier page in disbelief. She was fucking with him. She had to be. This must be payback for his accent or his lack of involvement in that one mission. There were few other logical connections to this insult. He was an assassin, not a darkness-damned thief! Yet here was a dossier telling him that there was only one death allowed. Not to mention that death had to look like an accident. All to steal a damnable new cracker recipe. That wasn't his way. He killed anyone who was in the wrong place and time. Cetus spun and threw the dossier in the fire. Only one or two pages were kept in his grasp. It was inconceivable that Hidden Blades would take a job from some cracker factory. It was a jest. A joke on his behalf because of his atrocious accent.

He stood in a small cabin. It was one room with a fireplace. Nothing adorned the walls or the floor. There was no furniture to be seen. For all intents, it appeared abandoned. It was one of many safehouses Cetus had set up. What most people didn't know was that one section of floorboards came up. Underneath was a cache of weapons, armor and useful gadgets. It also served as a nice hiding place should that be needed. It stood on the outskirts of Rose Garden. That was where the Banisco factory lay. Cetus ran his fingers through his hair as he looked around. What to do? What to do?

There were several ways he could pull this off. Disguising himself was only one possibility. That would allow him to sneak into the facility and then back out again. With the Hidden Blade magic ring, it'd be rather easy. Potentially. If the business was as cutthroat as the dossier said, magical disguises likely would be detected in some way. Then he'd have to fight his way out. Not something he wanted to do. More than one would die and his cover would be blown. Another way would be to fight his way into the facility. Again a risky proposition. Many deaths, cover blown, potentially not even obtaining the recipe. A third option was providing a distraction. Maybe many distractions to facilitate easier access and exit.

He had the tools for the last plan. It was logically the best plan he had. Given the success of the magical storm he'd created in Talonia, it would help immensely. Cetus decided to try that in conjunction with another plan. As he armed for the job, the assassin slipped the disguise ring over his finger. Now creating a distraction where no one got killed would be a problem. There was the argument that anyone outside the factory was fair game. However, the dossier had been very clear. Only one death and it had to look like an accident. Otherwise, there would be no payment. Not to mention the client would wash his hands of the whole thing. Cetus couldn't take chances with that. No matter how logical it seemed to do so.

The shark-man descended into his cave. This stash was standard with various weapons stored about the room. Steel lined lacrima walls stood behind the weapons. Armor was another floor down along with useful items. A table stood in the center of the room here. That was what Cetus needed most. The map that had been spared from the fire was spread out onto the table. Next to it was a map of the various cracker convoy routes. Using this information, Cetus planned to set up his distraction to delay one of the convoys. That coupled with a potential threat to the convoy would hopefully result in one of the entrances being left unguarded. Even if it didn't, it would scare the guards and make them less likely to do their job properly.

Setting a building on fire would work. Provided the building was empty, it would fall within the lines of his job. If a bit of burning rubble hit the road the convoy was supposed to take, who was to say it wasn't an accident. It irked him that they were working for a chivalrous person. What did Mister Kelf think they did here at Hidden Blades? More to that matter, why wasn't this job being handed to a newbie? This was like a hazing ritual for a senior member of the guild. There was no logic in choosing Cetus to deal with such a menial task. The assassin shook his head. No time to dwell on the thoughts of illogical monsters like Esper. Better to simply prepare for the mission. There was much to do.

Cetus gathered a few needle weapons. Each had a paralytic or sleeping agent applied to their needles. It prevented anyone from dying while allowing him to remove those that got in his way. A lacrima grenade filled with sleeping gas was also added to the collection. The assassin slipped on his handguards. With the restriction of one kill - and that had to look like an accident - his hands needed to be covered. His special skin caused bleeding with one wrong touch. If he was fighting seriously, his opponents would probably die from blood loss. Also not within the parameters of his job. Implosion devices were clipped to his belt. Each had a limited blast area to prevent any deaths. As the assassin finished securing everything into place, he took one last look around the armory. Nothing more was needed for this job other than fast transportation.

Transportation happened to be rather close by. Cetus descended once again. Set into this room's west wall was a door. The door led into a garage that was filled with Cetus' various vehicle projects. These babies took much longer to complete since it wasn't his area of expertise. He tended to make them too heavy or too light. The lacrima powering them tended to burn out. For this job, he chose to use his masterpiece. The Shark was a black motorcycle with a closed top. It pushed 400 MPH when it was opened up. It was also capable of short flights. Twin machine guns were hidden along the body. When popped out, they could create a barrage of bullets for several minutes. Cetus had tried to install a rocket at one point. That hadn't ended well. The bike sitting here was technically the Shark 3.7. He hoped this mission wouldn't create cause for making a Shark 4.0.

WC: 1092

The motorcycle roared beneath Cetus. He wove between pedestrians, traffic, anything that was in the way. The bike's movements were seamless. The best part of it all was that no one could see him. The Shark's lattice of lacrima cords allowed the disguise ring to patch directly into it. He'd managed to make the entire thing invisible. There were downsides to it. It didn't last long and could easily burn out the ring if used incorrectly. Cetus had also discovered a weird quirk. Mirrors still reflected the bike like it was there. Maybe that was a flaw in the ring's disguise mechanism though.

Cetus pulled into an alleyway. The invisibility flickered off. Kicking out the bike's stand, Cetus climbed out of the bike. This location was one of three he'd planned out. One was burnt given the density of the population around it. The implosions would cause loss of life and the convoy wouldn't necessarily be stopped. The second location didn't work either. The convoy had already passed. That left this one. Cetus kept his helmet on as he leaped onto the side of the building. Special climbing claws built into his gloves let him grasp the wall. They weren't as efficient as his skin but they'd do in a pinch.

The assassin scaled the side of the building. He carefully placed five implosion devices. Each one would take out a sizable chunk of the building. The siding would collapse onto the road. Any other pieces would be too small to do damage. All that was required was precise timing. Cetus scurried back down to the ground. The caravan of cracker cars was coming this way. An annoying jingle played through the air. Cetus grimaced as he climbed back onto his bike. Who thought that tune was a good idea? His finger hovered over the detonator. There they were, a hundred feet out. Time to rumble.

An implosion rippled through the air. It was quickly followed by several more. Pedestrians screamed. Horses panicked. Cars stopped. The affected building had its eastern wall almost entirely disintegrate. The remaining pieces fell onto people below. The only large chunk landed in an empty street. It blocked all forward progression. No one was greatly injured by the event, something everyone would marvel at later. The one thing no one noticed while the building wall disappeared was a bike. A black bike that shot out of an alleyway. No one saw the look of concentration on the rider's face underneath the canopy and his helmet. No one really realized how important that black bike really was.

The assassin checked the watch on his wrist. It would take him two minutes to reach the factory. Hopefully, at that time, the guards were leaving their station. The building he'd imploded would slowly crumble over the next few minutes. The guards were well within range to try and help. Given that the convey of cracker stuff would be stopped there, he didn't see why they wouldn't go to help. Cetus drifted around the corner. Squealing protest touched his ears. The wheels needed work then. They should be silent no matter what he did with the bike. Unless he was trying to draw attention. Then it was alright. The bike slid into another alleyway. Cetus checked his watch again. Right where he needed to be.

The assassin slid off the Shark. With deft, sure movements, he hid the bike in the shadows. Unless someone turned a direct light on it or knew where it was, they'd never find it now. Tapping the ring, Cetus set his disguise. Perfect. Time to check the guards. He slipped over, peering around the corner. The shark-man bit his lip in frustration. They still stood outside the door. Bollacks. There wasn't much he could do. His distraction might have been for nothing. He'd have to walk into the factory, letting all of them see him. Cetus wasn't sure he could pull off the new guy act. He wasn't too good at acting. There was a fair amount of skill in imitation but that was the extent of what he could do most times. Caimilier's attitude wouldn't work here either, unfortunately. The cocky male thing didn't work on twitchy guards.

One of the guards touched a crystal by their neck. A few words were spoken into it. Whatever the response, the guard barked at the others. The entire squad of ten walked away. That was the manpower aspect dealt with. The magical wards didn't activate without a specific command. The dossier had been a little vague on that part. Perhaps throwing it all in the fire hadn't been the smartest of plans. He could have used intel on how it responded to electricity. Cetus strolled casually through the empty yard. His face was kept out in the open as if there wasn't care to if it was spotted. There wasn't really. All they would see is an oriental face with shocking red hair. Nothing whatsoever to point back at Cetus.

The guards hadn't left the front door unlocked. That was unfortunate. The power of the White Duke flooded into Cetus' arms. Oversized claws pushed out from his fingers. Thanks to his illusion, his hands didn't appear abnormal. A slash opened up the door for him. Piece of cake from here. Cetus weaved his way through the crowd of workers. A couple of people stopped him but a polite smile and a few words alleviated their worries. Cetus made it to the offices with no problem. There was nobody inside. Excellent. Another slash opened up the doors for him. It didn't take him naught but a minute to find the recipe. Cetus had to suck on his teeth a moment. This was a top-secret document. It had been utterly without any real security. What had the company's CEO been thinking?

The assassin tucked away the parchment. Hidden within his illusion, no one would notice the stolen property. He started making his way back through the factory. Along the way, he 'accidentally' dropped the sleeping grenade. The shouts of confusion created enough of a distraction. Cetus slipped right back out the door. This job had been rather disappointing in all honesty. He'd gotten in and out without trouble. The assassin resolved to have a word with Esper after this. She might be the head of his department but he was an assassin. Leave this kiddie stuff for the newbies. Climbing onto his bike, the shark-man rode off. No one noticed the caper until his trail was dust in the wind. Despite a few tales, there weren't any major injuries other than a few broken bones. No one died whatsoever.

WC: 1112
TWC: 2204