KaneMature

The mission seemed pretty simple in theory. Get in, take out a couple guards, get an ignitable file, and get the fuck out. As it turns out, theory is a bitch. When one thing goes wrong, the one thing on your mind is that you know how quickly shit is going to hit the fan. Hit the fan it did. When a number estimating the amount of opposition is provided, Kane had learned to multiply that number by at least five. With that in mind, ten guards seemed to be a good guess and a manageable one at that. This wasn't the case. Being who he was had its drawbacks. People tend to send you on missions that no one else can accomplish. As such, upwards of fifty guards were patrolling the building that withheld his prize.

Three guards had already been neutralized and were now being propped up in a standing position in a locker of their own. Kane stuck to the shadows like fur to a lint roller. No guards were to be harmed on his way down to the generator that powered all of the lights inside the building. Within five minutes of creeping around, he had come to the maintenance corridor and was in the fifth door to the left in less time than that. He planted his brick of C4 and ran like hell. Out the window and onto a balcony he fell. He hit the trigger and could hear a deafening explosion echoing behind him and instantly the building went dark. "Good thing we needed a solid copy on this one I guess" Kane muttered under his breath. He jogged at a comfortable pace only stopping to incapacitate any guard that blundered into his path. 

The green hazy vision that was produced by his night-vision goggles illuminated his way until he came upon the 14th floor, Administrator Owen's office. The big man had been out of the office as was his Wednesday tradition. Kane picked the lock on the filing cabinet that was marked "G-J" as quietly as he could but was forced to simply force the lock open as picking locks had never been a feat that he was well suited for. He slid open the drawer and began flipping his way through the various files that were located in Owen's office. He found what he was looking for, a file labeled "Harrison, Jacob". He gently extracted the file and held it briefly in his hand as he unzipped the front of his skin tight combat suit. Kane slid the file into his suit and zipped himself back up. 

Kane moved to the center window in the wall of glass the gave Owen's office that suited to its owner's fondness of natural light. He briefly looked out upon the cityscape that this behemoth of a tower stood in the center of and thought to himself just how beautiful Chicago looked at night. Leisure time was over and he needed to work fast if he was to escape this building with his life in control. Kane cocked his leg and put it right through the window shattering the entire pane apart from the edges that one can never truly remove from a window. Hundreds of glass shards rained down from the room but Kane had not enough time to worry about little things like that.

He retreated to the door of the office, lifted his goggles to wipe the perspiration from his forehead, and ran at top speed towards the now vacant space in the wall of glass. He dove out the window with his arms extended in front of his body. Any onlookers would have thought to see a man committing suicide from the top floor of a towering office building but suddenly something happened that would drop the jaw of anyone who could see through the darkness for such a sight. Kane's body began to arc like a child swinging on a rope about to release himself to a body of water. Instead of releasing, he began to climb up the rope that had saved his life and into the dim red light of an experimental CH-67 helicopter. 

Upon entering, the copilot gave a Kane a headset with a microphone protruding from the right ear. He put it on and heard a female voice that he knew all too well. "Am I to understand that the package is now in your possession?" asked the voice of Cara Arkas.

"Did you honestly doubt me," asked Kane in his low, raspy voice. "Jacob Harrison, I got his file and I'm now on my way to HQ to drop it off just for you. Consider it a present C-" but he was not allowed to finish his sentence as Cara interrupted immediately. 

"You're not coming back to HQ. That file contains all of the background information on the man whose name is on the cover. You might remember him as Micheal Johnson, the man whose head you put a bullet into. He's alive and we have reason to believe that he wants to bring down S-3. Your new mission is to hunt down and kill him by any means you deem necessary. As such, upon the end of this ride, you are now dark. S-3 will no longer have any jurisdiction or responsibility of your actions.  Good luck." 

The mic clicked off and Kane hung up the headphones on a peg beside him. This time Johnson was going to die and S-3 would have no say in what to do. "Talk about shit hitting the fan," muttered Kane and all was silent until he was dropped off in a field sixteen miles out of Chicago. 

The End

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