Chapter 5

A stakeout is always less intrusive than a hunt. You just find someplace comfortable, and watch the world go by. Best if you look like you belong there, and if you keep still, the locals soon become used to your presence. Even human locals, as contrasted with local wildlife. When #2 was on mission, he was as good as it gets. It was only when the mission was being planned that he felt insecure and uncertain. Once the mission was defined, he was steady and true.He had spent the last ten hours, since eight thirty that morning in the park. Sometimes he was feeding pigeons and squirels, sometimes he was reading a novel or newspaper, making sure he turned the pages regularly, sometimes he was people watching, and depending on his persona, watching men, women or children more closely. It would take careful observation to notice him, and the Kill Team Bravo was looking for children, not for an experienced operative.

They had no idea that they were being shadowed by the Temps. That is the problem with hunters, they get too focused on their quarry, and don't pay enough attention to their enviroment, thought #2 with amusement. He looked over where #3 was juggling to a small crowd, his hat filling pretty well with donations. Earlier it had been animal balloons and a clown wig, and before that he had done pretty well playing folk music on a worn guitar. His voice was rough, but in tune and soulful. He had even had to chase off a few teenaged giggling groupies. #2 was vaguely jealous.

Kill Team Bravo had become targets of Temp for several reasons. One, it was illegal, immoral, and nasty, to kill US citizens, especially on US soil. Two, the targets were children. If the kill team had so little conscience as to unquestioningly target children, they were beyond the pale, and had forfited their humanity. They needed to be put down like the mad dogs they were. By the end of the day, all four members of Kill Team Bravo were identified, their Operational Center was located, and their vehicles were fitted with tracking devices. When night fully involved the city, the Temps executed their plan. It was simple, and coordinated. At the same time, all of Kill Team Bravo were taken out, with a minimum of fuss and muss. There was a difference between a Kill Team, who were sent after civilians and other embarassments (politicians, lawyers, journalists, and leaks) and agency assassins, who's targets were usually other agents, foreign or rogue domestic. A much tougher target, in most cases. The Kill Team didn't stand a chance against 'true professionals'.

#3 took out his man with the finesse of a toreador, braced him, let him draw, and redirected the first shot into the kill team heavy's own brain. Guns are not much use if you are trying to shoot someone who is within arms reach. #2 went for the classic method, and spritzed his target in the face with a powerful heart stimulant, causing his heart to destroy itself in just four minutes. The agencys had such wonderful toychests. The drug would vanish in the background mess of blood effects caused by the 'heart attack'.

#4 took out 'Mary', no silly ninja suits, just normal business attire. Walking quickly by, as if in a hurry to get somewhere, an almost unnoticeable pin prick, and halfway down the sidewalk before the first shock of shellfish neurotoxin that stiffened the muscles rigid eased, allowing the already dead body to collapse to the ground. The brain could only wonder in horror as the paralysis shut down all other bodily functions. Unless an autopsy was specifically looking for it, the organic compound wouldn't show up in any toxicology screenings.