First Target

"You believe you have the skills to take on a request?" a thinly man asked a young girl of less than twenty years old. They were seated in a bar, the man nursing a glass of gin while she had an untouched can of cola in front of her.

"Yes, I do believe I can take care of the job, no problem," the girl said without even blinking. The man was looking deep into her eyes, probably looking for a weakness to exploit. But she did not falter, matching his stare.

"Look, no offense, but I am looking for a cold hearted, ruthless, mean son of bitch. You look like you have been dieting all your life to impress some wannabe jock, stuffing your body with all kinds of chemicals to wither out your competition," the man sighed and downed his gin with a gulp.

"What's there to lose then? If I die on the job, you can just laugh it off your conscience, just another fool overestimating himself," she argued. The man thought it over then shrugged.

"You know what, fine. It's a low level job any way," he said before sliding over an envelope to her. "If you do happen to do this, with no incidents, then I will be your handler. This is an interview and if you fuck it up, as you said, I will laugh it off, probably raise a toast to you before going on with my life."

"You won't regret this," she said, a little excitedly.

"That's fine and all. Anyway, this is what you do when you do finish the job. Call this number," he slid a phone number to her, "in a prepaid phone and tell the person who answers that he ordered a pizza and you wanted to know how he would pay up, credit or cash. That is my signature move so they'll know you are the hitman I hired." She nodded in understanding then walked out.

"Such a shame, she is beautiful too," he thought as he ogled at her retreating figure.

*******

Denise got into her car, trying not to look as excited as she was deep down in her heart. With steady hands, she switched on the sedan's engine and she drove off. She could hardly contain her happiness at landing her first contract.

"Dad would be so proud of me," she said to herself, looking at the envelope on her lap.

She decided to gain a few miles away from the bar before she settled down and started reading the envelope, to see if she was been followed. One can never be too careful. She drove around for half an hour, being way too vigilant before she settled to a Mall's parking.

"Let's see what I got," she beamed as she opened the envelope. Inside was a file which she opened to show a picture of an African-american man. He was in his late thirties, wearing an expensive jewelry on his neck, fingers and ears. She recognized a ring that a famous record studio gave to its artists when they produce a music album that crossed the ten million dollars mark in sales. His bloodshot droopy eyes told her he was a drug user, a tear mark tattoo at the corner of his eyes told her he was a killer so he was dangerous.

She turned over the picture and came to his details. His name was Khali D, an upcoming rap talent that was making his name in the music industry. But, he was also involved with gangs, being a member of a country wide popular gang, Husks. Their main MO was drug trafficking, kidnapping, assassinations, blackmail and theft. The man had apparently put his gang ways on hold to focus on his career but she suspected he might be a pawn by the leaders up high to get them more money.

"How convenient, he even gave me his address," she chuckled, seeing the address written on the bio. "Good thing he lives in the city. I did not feel like traveling so soon."

She revived the engine then drove out of the parking lot. She made sure she was not followed once again then went to her house. Technically, it belonged to her father, a mercenary who had taught her everything she knew about weapons, fighting and killing. She herself was a reincarnate, given a power called enhanced physiology as a plug in. She had thought she was in a fiction world for sometime, a fanfic of some world, but it appeared it was not so.

Her power basically gave her the ability of ten times a peak human. She was ten times stronger than them, faster, durable, smarter and all that stuff. So, her new father was quite overjoyed when he realized his daughter might make the most dangerous mercenary yet as he taught her. From how to hold a gun to putting a bullet through a person's brain, she soaked it all up to a point she had become even more lethal than him. Their daily spars had made him become a very legendary mercenary, one governments all over the world sought after to hire or to kill. But, he was still mortal and he made a mistake that landed him in a Black Site prison.

However, what nobody but him knew, he had trained an even more dangerous killer than himself and he would rather die than spill it out. He was tortured for months, the CIA trying to get the name of his daughter and he had used those torture methods to try and suicide so they just let him be. However, the US government somehow knew he had a daughter and they were searching for her vehemently.

"Hello boys," she greeted the weapons inside a hidden compartment in her closet. She smiled widely looking at the collection of guns her father had left her when he was arrested. Out of all the guns in here, her favourite one might be the M16 assault rifle and CZ Scorpion Evk 3 submachine gun. Of course, she had done a few remodeling on them so that they pack a few more 'oomphs'.

"Not gonna be using you guys today, sorry," she apologized to the two guns before picking a Glock 17 pistol. She checked if it was good to be used then slid in an extended magazine of 19 bullets. Cocking it to chamber a bullet, she made sure the safety was off before sliding it behind her, hiding it with her leather jacket. She picked its silencer, checked it too and kept it in her inner jacket's pocket. Done with her preparations, she closed the hidden door when she was out and headed to the garage where a black pickup truck was waiting. This was her father's sweet sixteen birthday gift when she was fourteen, a truck that had been pimped to the max.

It was a V8 engine, turbo charged, diesel engine, outfitted with bulletproof windows, armored metal for it's body, top state navigation system and the best of all, he made sure its plates cannot be captured by camera! He was all too prepared for his daughter's debut as a law breaker. When she got in, she was amazed at how cool it looked inside. The truck had a button starter which she pressed and the engine roared to life like a monster, shaking the garage.

"Finally gonna use you," she sighed, caressing the dashboard before slowly driving out of the garage. It was smooth, way too smooth for her to believe. Once the garage door was closed, she drove off.

In all her excitement, she reminded herself to drive carefully. That way, she would not be bringing suspicion on herself if the cops tried to look at street cameras. She adhered to traffic laws as she made her way to Khali D's mansion. In half an hour, she drove past the compound, her brain immediately taking it all in.

'Surprisingly few security cameras, at the front gate and entrance. Two guards at the gate, two patrolling the compound, don't know how many inside. The wall around the compound is brick, 7'2, easily scalable. Alright, this will be an easy job,' she planned as she drove off. She stopped at a filling station about five miles away from the place, where she parked.

'Using speed of 90miles/hr, I will be in the compound by 3 minutes, at most four and half,' she timed herself, setting the stop watch on her left wrist to four and a half minutes and started running.

Since it was an areas populated by the rich, there was ample space to move without being seen. Running at a speed no normal human would even react to, she was scaling through the landscape, like a hunter running after prey. She could barely feel her muscles protest or even her body heating up, showing just how fit she was! In three and a half minutes, she was already at her target's compound wall.

She latched onto the top and heaved herself upwards. She surveyed the area and when it was clear, she pulled the rest of the body on top then jumped over, landing on her feet so lightly one would assume she was a feline personified. She lurked to the mansion where she started climbing it using the drainage pipe from the gutter. Her upper body strength proved so potent she was on the second floor in seconds. Carefully, she jumped onto a window pane and slowly opened it before vaulting herself inside. She found herself inside an empty bedroom.

She armed herself with the Glock 17, screwed in the silencer as she headed to the door, and turned the safety off. Slowly and carefully, she opened the door a jar, peering outside to see and empty hallway. She opened the door more and walked out, her hearing at work. In the file, it said that the house had a studio which Khali D would work in so she hoped he was in it. The studio was in the second floor, third room to the left.

'Bingo,' her eyes lit up as she spotted the room. She peeked through the keyhole and thanked her luck for the man of the hour was silently reading some musical sheets, headphones on his head. She smiled as she opened the door, quickly checking both side of the door for any guards before creeping up behind the man. When she put the silencer behind his head, the man froze, the sheets falling off his hand.

"N...Now, let's not be too hasty!" he pleaded, his hands already shaking.

"I know it's cliche, but it's nothing personal," she said before squeezing the trigger.

BZIP!

One bullet into his nogging and the world lost an inspiring musician. The body fell over due to the bullet's force, blood leaking out of the wound behind his head, his eyes wide open in terror. Denise squeezed the trigger again, a bullet drilling another hole behind his head, always double tap!

With her work done, she crept out of studio, crawled out the way she came and ran back to her truck, this time making it in slightly above three minutes. Getting into her truck, she hid the Glock and the silencer in a hidden compartment under the backseats before she calmly drove off. She got home without any accidents, parked the truck inside the garage, took out the Glock and silencer, cleaned them up and putting them in the secret compartment in her closet. That ritual done, she went to the garage, inside the freezer in an aluminum bag were a number of prepaid phones. She dailed in a number and called it.

"Who this?" an irritates voice said from the other side.

"You ordered a pizza, confirming if you are paying by credit card or check," she said, keeping her voice neutral.

"Pizza? What are y...Oh!" the person must have recognized what she was talking about. "You done already, huh? Gonna send a tip to Joey for the good job." She hang up before crushing the phone in her hands like it was made of tin foil. Minutes later, a message was sent into her phone from her bank saying she just got sixty thousand from an online poker game account.