Great, Now I Have to Kill This Guy
by A Government Assassin
Falcon Cove, Falcon Cove, this is Kilo India Lima. Repeat Falcon Cove this is Kilo India, over. I am at site Whiskey X-Ray and the target has been neutralized. I repeat, Target designate: Wounded Brave has been dealt with, over.
Roger that, Falcon Cove, I am requesting exfiltration from Location: Alpha.
Oh, shit. Oh, shit, Falcon Cove, I think someone just saw me.
No I don’t know who it is! Fuck! It’s probably some indigenous personnel! Some unlucky motherfucker just wandered in on a murder scene, and now this inconsiderate motherfucker is going to turn me into a spree killer.
Because it’s what rookies do, Falcon Cove, they get caught and I end up having to murder dozens of guys. This is JV bullshit, not befitting the status of a bad-ass black ops motherfucker, motherfucker, and I’m just upset.
Sorry, I snapped at you, Falcon Cove. It’s been a rough couple of weeks. My girl’s leaving me, because I’m never home, so I have to find a place to live over the internet because I’ve spent the last four months in Budapest hunting men, and Secret Defense Echelon Command is looking to screw me on overtime hours.
Which I’m getting double fucked on because in order to get a new place I gotta pay first and last month’s, the security deposit, which is insane when all the places you’re looking at have bulletproof glass and secret compartments for foreign currency, multiple passports and assault rifles, my mom’s bugging me that I need to find a job that lets me stay home more to establish a life so I can settle down.
But first I have to be inserted via submarine ten miles off the coast, swim in, hike to the city, and live in an abandoned building waiting for my contact to show with the intel and field kit, get shot at by guards before I could gas them, and now I have to kill some poor fucking janitor.
Yes, Falcon Cove, I’m still in the room, I just got done wiping off the knife when he walked in—
I AM THE SCALPEL, FALCON COVE! I AM THE BLADE IN THE NIGHT! I AM THAT WHICH LIVES IN THE SHADOWS ONLY COMING INTO THE LIGHT TO SNATCH LIVES! AND I’M—GODDAMN IT!
Be advised, Falcon Cove, Be advised, Kilo Lima is pursuing the new target on foot.
Falcon Cove, this is Kilo Lima, how do you say ‘stop’ and ‘police’ in Hungarian?
Yeeeeeaaaaah, I’m not going to be able to pronounce that. Well, Falcon Cove, you need to understand that there are two kinds of agents: the Jane Goodalls and the Frank Castles.
The Jane Goodalls go into the field ready to make friends. They’re going to learn the language, the customs, and every detail of the target’s life, and then they’ll usually fall in love with the target or switch sides or some other stupid pussy shit, and that’s when they usually call in me, a Frank Castle.
Frank Castles just kind of show up and start murdering people.
No, Falcon Cove, I’m still the scalpel. I don’t care if the Jane Goodalls sound more subtle, they’re not. They insert themselves in someone’s life, become a fixture in not only the target’s ever day, but the every day of everyone around him. So now, after he kills the target or switches side there’s still the fallout of everyone being lied to, the distrust of people they’ve known their entire lives, frankly, they’re less the scalpel and more like an emotional claymore.
Let me stop you right there, Falcon Cove, in the opinion of Kilo India Lima, you’re thinking like a desk jockey and not a field agent. Frankly, these guys, the ‘infiltration specialists,’ are drama queens chasing the rush of lies and betrayal –hang on, Falcon Cove.
Falcon Cove, this is Kilo India, I’ve taken care of the loose end, now requesting immediate evac from Site Designate: Charlie. No, Falcon Cove, Bravo is over by the embassy and I’ve had to go east to run down this guy, ah shit.
I was checking him for ID, and underneath his jumpsuit is a t-shirt with picture of him and his kids on it.
Yeah, like the kind you get at the mall. It’s them in front of the Alamo. Jesus, this is fucked. I’m from Texas. This guy’s visited where I grew up, and I flew all the way around the world so I could throw a knife into his spine.
I don’t use a gun because I’m that good. You’re goddamn right it’s a pride thing. Stabbing guys is my signature.
Yes, lots of guys use knives, but only two people in the world have killed a tier two personality with an edged weapon, so yeah, Falcon Cove, it’s kind of a ‘big deal’ to be included with the elite killers of the world.
Falcon Cove, Falcon Cove, be advised Kilo India has just been made by a group of school children. Repeat Kilo India is at Condition: Broken Arrow.
Look it up, Falcon Cove, I’m not really big on having to say it.
Well, Falcon Cove that’s why we say “Broken Arrow,” and not “Mass Child Murder.” It turns out having to say “Mass Child Murder” over and over again really demoralizes everyone and it’s hard for an agent to pull the trigger or hurl the knife at a room full of little kids.
Throw up if you have to Falcon Cove, but stay focused. This is Black Level Special Operations. Don’t worry, kids have short legs and are shit for endurance, this’ll be quick.
Falcon Cove, be advised, if you’re going to cry into the mic, I’ll have to recommend you be taken off the ops rotation. Falcon Cove, can you switch the satellite to infrared over my location, and let me know if I missed an ‘arrow?’ They’re small, low to the ground, and get into all kind of places you wouldn’t even think of to hide in.
Northwest? I already cleared the northwest…ah, the vents. Hang on Falcon Cove.
Oh, gross. Falcon cove, did you just barf on the earpiece?
That’s… Jesus, Falcon Cove…I—
Falcon Cove, I appear to have walked in on some kind of Hungarian PTA thing. Maybe church.
Falcon Cove, this is Kilo India Lima requesting that you call in the fast movers and turn this area into a parking lot. I just don’t have it in me to stab all these people. Over.