Storm Warning by Jaxon Reed

Author:Jaxon Reed [Reed, Jaxon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-07-16T22:00:00+00:00

21

Mitch Poole woke up suddenly, a common occurrence when forcibly ejected from an online game.

Unlike his aged avatar in Honor Guard, Poole was in his early 30s. He sported dark brown hair with light brown skin and stood five foot ten or 178 centimeters.

Poole was in charge of the Order of Aristarchus’s electronic communications. He spent a lot of time online, mostly in the game Honor Guard. He also tracked contracts going out, making sure those fulfilling them were properly paid.

His head ached slightly, although he knew that was psychosomatic from the perceived gunshot blast to the head he had just virtually experienced.

Poole muttered a few quiet curses, then turned to a holo showing a coded list of the Order’s members and their recent activities.

Each member was assigned a number. For years, that had been a three digit numeral, a tradition based on ancient fiction and popular lore. However, recently they had found it prudent to expand to a four digit system.

For one thing, they had more assassins than ever associated with the Order. For another, they had lost several members either during the course of assignments or, at least in some rare cases, old age and natural death.

Nobody wanted to use a previously assigned number. Everyone wanted a new, unique designation. When they changed to four digits, all the old three digit killers were simply given a zero prefix.

A quick glance at the holo showed a recent death. Somebody evidently passed away while Poole was online. An older somebody, he decided, based on their number: 0489.

He touched the number floating in the chart, and their name showed up to the right, along with a picture: Carl Spargle.

Spargle was something of a legend, Poole thought. Old school, and set in his ways. But, he was well known for successfully completed the contracts he took back in the day. Some of them had been quite lucrative. In recent years he had declined many opportunities, an indication age was catching up with him.

But Poole noticed Spargle had taken one recently. He must have decided he needed the money.

Poole made a motion in the air. Another window popped open showing the last contract Spargle accepted: “Dirk, the Projects, 50K.”

“That rotten . . .”

Poole began searching on his secure connection to the net, quickly finding news footage of a house fire in the Projects with a reported fatality. Police were investigating and the fire marshal was checking for signs of arson.

There are no coincidences in this line of work, he thought. People don’t just suddenly have accidents.

If Poole’s hunch was correct, Dirk was behind this. It also narrowed down the man’s location in real life.

Carl almost certainly did not have a gaming console in his place, he thought. And if he did, it got burned up in the fire. So, that meant . . .

Poole ran a search for gaming centers within easy walking distance of Spargle’s place. He found one a few blocks away.

He pulled up the Order’s private site, and the contract on Dirk.

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