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"Okay. I guess I don't need to know. Here is the file; pictures, last known whereabouts, possible security. Everything that was requested." The man's hands shake as he slides the file towards the towering man in the pressed suit. "How... How do you keep your suit so clean with everything that's happening?"
The man says nothing. He maintains eye contact while picking up the file. "Payment."
The one word spoken in an even tone sends a shiver down the man's spine. He hears the implicit threat. “Payment. Yeah. Yeah we got it.” He turns towards the heavily armed men behind him, men that are meant to make him feel safe, secure, strong, the look in each and everyone of their eyes is one of sheer terror. “Blake, open the door. Show him.” Blake turns without a word lifting the rolling door. The bearings scraping as the door raises revealing a garage full of supplies. A table sits in the middle of the floor with a single duffel bag on top. The dark suited man walks up to it without a word. Unzips it. Checks its contents. Closes it. And turns.
“It’ll be done.” He slings the bag over his shoulder and walks out.
Contract killers. You’d think with zombies roaming the planet destroying all life as we know it that things like contract killers would be a thing of the past. You’d be not only wrong but sorely naive. People will be people; selfish, conceited, self-important, egotistical, narcissistic, and worse. People are still willing to pay others to kill those they think have it better off then them, disrespected them, or whatever other absurd reason they can come up with. It’s disgusting.
This guy. He goes by Hitman. We’re not sure which came first, this Hitman or that video game with the same name. All we know for sure is when he’s hired he never fails. Ever.
He’s walked neck deep into hordes of creatures wearing his freshly pressed suit and walk out the other side and damn it his slacks still have their creases. He has only ever beens sen carrying a briefcase, the contents of which is a high powered sniper rifle. He’s also known to have several knives and at least two sidearms. We assume he travels the wastes using caches and stashes when the need arises.
"O, woe be the day the enemy descends, mourn we will, for the sake of all that's holy in this universe....
... 'cause the Alley Viper Corps is gonna fuck it ALL up!" - NFC
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