Part 1.0 Premeditated
Part 1.0
[Recording Initiated
Date: June 2 2078]
I’m not a good man, never was and never will be.
Being paid to kill is my job, and making them disappear is something only very few people can do.
Before I get to the good part, let me start by telling you about my day.
Saying it started like any other would be an understatement.
I got a ticket that morning.
For clarification, a ticket is what we call a kill contract in the dives I frequent.
I get tickets because I have a special skill.
Don’t tell anyone, but I can cut the signal that sends your vitals to the big calculator in the tower.
That way, a hit can’t be traced back to anyone, but everybody knows it’s me.
So, as I was saying, I can make people vanish into thin air.
That mostly means they go into several crushing devices that were made for concrete.
The system just calls these victims MIA.
That is how I got the name MIA. Do you think it suits me?
I digress.
I got a ticket, a green ticket.
These ones are special, and kind of funny in a karmic sense.
A green ticket is just an average guy at the wrong place at the wrong time.
He saw a crime.
He banged a gangster’s mom.
I would never judge.
Or he is simply just too much effort to leave alive.
A green’s only crime is that they ran out of luck.
My latest target was a high schooler, can you believe that?
This kid was called John Summers.
He was a student who saw a group of gangsters do some unspeakable things to a teacher.
He did the responsible thing, he told the authorities.
Now the dad, who is a mafioso middle manager, wants the kid’s lips sealed.
That is where I come in.
Summers disappears, and the mafioso kid gets to stay home and dick around.
Here’s what I do.
I first stake out the place where the hit would take place; it doesn’t hurt to learn the terrain.
Secondly, I would follow my target; it doesn’t hurt to learn the victim’s habits.
Here is the important part.
If he is green, I take him into my van with his closest relatives and sneak them off to another city.
Each city’s tower doesn’t communicate with the others; don’t ask me how that works.
That way, the ‘victim’ is just another random city dweller.
Green means good, and even though my heart is as black as they come, I believe in something.
I also give my entire purse to the victims, don’t you think that’s funny?
The victim gets a permanent paid vacation on the dime of a stupid gangster wannabe and his stupid dad.
After I sent Summers on his way, I wanted to celebrate with a big bottle of cheap whiskey and unlimited ice.
I couldn’t wait to turn on some Cheers and get blasted out of my skull.
Just as I was about to put on some classic TV, I heard my buzzer.
That is strange, because a very limited number of people know where I live.
If something like that happens, I just move a few blocks over and start over.
So, I get to the door, and there is no one there.
I look down and see a small metallic box.
In all the old movies I used to watch, the hero would have a pit in their stomach.
They would have a feeling that something really bad had happened.
I have to confess, I felt nothing.
Not a single thing.
There was a small blinking screen with one single sentence.
“I want my money back.”
That was the moment my guts wanted to jump out of my throat.
I picked up the small box, and your curly blond hair spilt out.
These animals found you.
How they did it and why they killed you were questions I was going to find the answers to.
Now, before I tell you how I did it, would you like some context?
I think it would be easier to follow after I tell you who I was before I took the name MIA.
I won’t bore you with the details and skip straight to the good stuff.
Who was MIA before he became a heavy hitter?
He was a grunt in Americanas Alliance, and yes, it was every bit as bad as they said on the news.
I was part of a group called the Elimination Assimilation Membership.
It rolls off the tongue, right?
We weren’t the GIs running up hills and planting flags.
The bunch of us were dropped off close to our targets, and we waited.
One time, I became such a loved bartender that the Supreme Alpha Leader asked me to pour drinks at his son’s wedding.
Too bad both of them were on my list.
Poor bride, she never got her wedding night.
So basically, I am built, literally and figuratively, to hunt and kill.
To get me ready for missions, I got three main implants.
First is called the Chitin Armour, my skin is basically knife-proof, and small calibres just bounce off.
The skin also closes almost instantaneously after it is punctured.
The second is called the Cable System.
I have extra artificial muscle attached to reinforced bone.
The third is called the Third Eye.
That is what I use to switch off the signal, and it works great for communication.
I can hack into almost anything with mid-level or lower security.
So?
Do you think I’m qualified?
What am I saying, of course I am.
The reason I am making this is that you deserve to know what happened to those bastards.
Your only crime was that your boyfriend didn’t want to propose, and he was too chicken shit to end things properly.
When you see him and the others on the other side, you will know why.
I hope you appreciate how they all came to you on their knees.
