Night's Omen

Frank was relieved to find that the Guildhouse had nice living quarters. While not spectacular they were more than enough for man used to living in barracks, ships and tents. As he looked around the room, he did have a slightly pained thought about his townhouse in New Orleans. He hadn't been there in months, but it was always nice to know there was "home" waiting for him wherever he wandered. He made a mental note to call his younger brother Kurt and have him drop in on the place and check it out next time he was in town.

Unpacking all his clothes and gears had been a rather quick affair. Frank traveled well equipped, but light, not bringing more than he needed. The most important thing to him was getting his weapons inside and squared away. He had also decided to lug in the huge ammo boxes that were always in his trunk. After spending an evening cleaning his weapons, he decided to give the Guildhouse a good once over. So after sliding his .45 into its holster he locked his door and went wandering.

Frank was surprised to find that the Guildhouse had the facilities to rival some of the smaller military bases he'd been to over the years. Kitchen, Infirmary, Firing Range, and much to his liking, a nicely furnished gym. Frank loved pumping iron his time off, just a good way to relieve stress and stay in shape for his abusive line of work. He also noted the mats and punching bags...perhaps he could find a sparring partner too.

After giving the grounds a good once over, Frank headed back to his quarters to finish up his paper work. Most of it was pretty standard stuff, but every now and then he found odd questions that made him chuckle and at the same time slightly question his sanity for getting himself into this situation. Oh well, what else was there for a man like him to do if he wasn't fighting? After he finished the stuff he went back up to Connor's office and knocked on the door. Getting no response, Frank just slid the stuff under the door where Batten would be sure to find. All that remained was to meet his new partner. That in itself should prove interesting especially since Connor had mentioned the fact she was a "Mrs.", that gave Frank pause and left him hoping that her husband understood this line of work....

Skye wasn't hard to find -- she almost looked out of place, except that every motion she made was full of grace, making it clear she was obviously comfortable. She wore a long navy broomstick-style skirt and a white sweater, with a pair of black flats and a long gold necklace. Her brown hair was pulled back into a messy bun - Skye looked more like a teacher than an A+ sniper.

She was engaged in conversation with someone else, who gave their leave as they spotted Frank approaching. Skye hadn't yet met him, but she'd been told by Connor she'd be getting a partner. It would be nice to have some backup, she'd decided. Nick would be happy, for one, and two - Skye was petite, and in close quarters combat, at a great disadvantage.

She smiled as she saw him, and gave a little wave. "Are you Frank?" she asked. My, she seemed far too innocent to be in a place like this.

Frank turned in surprise upon hearing his name. He found that the speaker was a petite woman. Hmmm...so this was he partner he presumed. She looked very out of place, and was dress so conservatively that Frank would have thought her a Sunday School teacher, not a hardened killer. But looks were always deceiving, and he had know several small, beautiful female assassins that had used their looks to get closer to targets than Frank could ever dream of getting. And with that in mind...he made sure not to jump to any conclusions..obviously she was a seasoned vet if she was being trusted to train a new member.

"Yes Ma'am that would be me...I would have to guess you are Skye LeCroix, Batten said you were going to be my partner. Not to sound to0 naive, but I'm ready to kill something, so whenever you are ready to get started I'm more than willing...and its nice to meet you" As Frank said that he reached out one of his massive hands to shake hers.

Yeah....Frank continued to size her up as he spoke, and due to her size, he hoped she was a good shot....but then again if she wasn't, she wasn't going to be too hard to carry out of the line of fire. Frank hated having to lug wounded 200 pound guys around while they screamed and bled on him...

Skye shook his hand, her own delicate fingers seemingly so much smaller than his. Despite her unimposing physique, Frank would find, if he put his hand to his nose at a later date, that she perpetually had hands scented of gunpowder and oil. It wasn't a very feminine thing, but Skye had grown to enjoy it.

"Of course," she said with a laugh. "I was just about to go pick up my file and change. If you'll accompany me?" she asked, opening a door that lead towards the office area. She needed to see what she was up for, and then she'd make a detour back to change, and they could be off.

Damn, she got right down to business. Frank liked that about his new partner. But surprisingly, the thought of marching right out to kill a vampire was causing a knot to form in Frank's stomach. Briefly, images...and screams,  flashed through his mind. He struggled to push the memories out of his mind as he followed Skye. And speaking of changing...he was wondering what sort of gear a vampire hunt would require.

"Uhh speaking of changing, do I need to grab my bullet proof vest, I mean do vampires use guns? And what sorta weapons should I bring...this is my first, well, first official vampire hunt."

Frank also wanted to ask about her husband, because the damn last name sounded so familiar. But he wasn't really sure how to breech that subject just yet. Outside of the few female Mercs he had worked with, Frank had really had very limited dealings with women for the most part, and small talk wasn't one of his strongest skills.

Skye's laugh was like tinkling bells, and it was in response to Frank's questions. "Of course they know how to use guns. Vampires are just like you and I. They're capable of coherent thought, rationalization, and even with some, emotions, though I find myself a bit skeptical to accept it out of the majority of their kind." She picked up a manilla envelope that someone had left in the slot by the door to her quarters - some she kept mainly for her gear when she didn't feel like going home, although she did have a bed and a desk in there, too. It was like her tiny house inside the building.

She opened it and flipped through a few papers quietly, nodding to herself, or frowning, before finally she selected one and held it out to Frank. "The funny thing about this profession is, however, we don't always go after vampires. This one's totally human, but it's a top priority." She handed him another. "This one is vampire. The marks aren't set up too far apart from eachother. We can get one, then the other, and still have time for me to catch 'Damages' on my TiVo."

She excused herself and shut the door. After a few minutes, she returned, dressed in dark olive cargo pants, boots, and a tan thermal shirt that was fitted without being clingy. She had a black bag slung over her shoulder, one that presumably housed the disassembled rifle. It was large enough to, anyways, but with Skye, there was no telling. Her hair was pulled into a tight braid. It would become apparent sooner or later that Skye was both efficient and orderly.

"Ready?"

Of course Frank knew they COULD use guns, but he just wasn't sure if that had been an oddity with the ones he had fought with in Iran or if it was a wide spread thing. Besides, if they were going after a human, Frank was willing to bet he would probably have a gun...if he knew people might be coming for him. A human....he wondered what that poor bastard must have done to get people like Frank and Skye sent after him. Oh well, a kills a kill and money is money.
"Yeah, I'm about ready let me run grab my guns and change really quick and I'll meet you back in the lobby."

Frank rooted around through his clothes and found what he was looking for. Black BDU pants, steel toe combat boots, and of course his bullet proof vest and a black BDU shirt to go over it. He also moved his .45 to a thigh holster and slipped on a shoulder holster with his P99c as a back up. He slid the Kabar out of his regular boots and sheathed it on the outside of his combat boot. The machete slid into is special scabbard on the back of his shoulder holster. Hmmm now which gun to bring..he grabbed his .308 AK and several spare clips and headed out to meet Skye.

"So...I'm ready to roll, you want to drive or you want me to?"

Skye waited patiently for him, in the meantime making a quick call to her husband. She was hanging up just as Frank rounded the corner of the lobby, and smiled at him. "Up to you. I brought the Titan - it's got enough room for our things inside. Unless you have an aversion to trucks. Or Nissan. I had to persuade my husband. He's a Chevy guy," she explained as they walked towards the parking garage.

"This, I expect, is going to be very clean. I've allotted us roughly twenty minutes in between marks, but the travel distance is a lot less. We can just go the first one and then do my most favourite of things, hit the roofs for the second." Skye had a bad habit of building jumping. Nick didn't know how much of a thrill it was becoming for her, but because she was pregnant, she'd let that bit of information slide. She wasn't interested in having that conversation.

20 minutes between hits? Damn she liked to work quick and be done with it. Frank hoped she had a plan already laid out, because he damn sure didn't know what was going on. And roof hopping? That combined with the big black bag meant one thing: sniper. Well at least he wouldn't have to worry about someone getting skittish and plugging him in the back going through a door or something. And besides snipers were generally very careful and very professional...they had to be to deal with looking someone in the face and popping them from a few hundred yards away...it would drive a normal person insane.

"I think your truck would probably be better, its a little more uhhh incognito than my Grand National. So...what did these two targets do that pissed somebody off bad enough to have them whacked?"

Frank was curious what would make someone put a contract out on these targets. The vampire, well they should probably all be killed...but his curiosity over the human target just didn't go away.

"Part of this job, Frank, is not asking the why's so much. Sometimes it just isn't worth knowing," she said, tapping her temple a little, hoping he got her drift. There were some things that couldn't just be erased by memory. She thought briefly of her husband's, err, files, and sighed inwardly. On the outside, she remained composed, making the walk to her truck and tossing her gear in the back seat before hopping in the front.

It didn't take them long to get there, and Skye backed the truck directly under the fire escape of an old, decrepit apartment complex. "The cops don't come out in this area so much," she said quietly to Frank. She jumped into the bed of it, and then upwards, skillfully catching the escape with one hand. She dangled for a moment, and then pulled herself up, and began making her way up the ladder, every step nearly silent in the night air. Sirens could be heard in the distance, but they didn't seem to be coming any closer.

Frank just nodded at what Skye told him. True, he thought, it is better sometimes to just do the job without worrying about why you're doing it. But he still couldn't shake the odd nagging feeling that something was weird about a hit on a human by a group that seemingly specialized in Vampires and other supernatural beings. But whatever, he was getting some trigger time, and he was getting paid...well. Frank wasn't about to begin bitching about anything.

He slung his rifle over his shoulder and watched Skye climb the fire escape. He didn't have to jump and dangle like the smaller hunter. He simple grabbed the ladder and hoisted himself up onto the bottom most rung. By the time Frank reached the roof, Skye was already half way across the building. Damn, he thought, this little sniper is gonna leave me in her dust!

Skye turned back to look at him after she stopped short of taking a dive off of the roof. She didn't teeter, rather seemed perfectly comfortable on the ledge. She was less hyena and more bird in that instance - because of her size and general weight, and her coordination come to think of it, Skye could balance quite precariously without falling on most surfaces in most situations. It made her preference of a higher vantage point when sniping fairly easy to achieve. Frank seemed less enthusiastic about this ordeal.

"Took you long enough," she teased. She looked around with narrowed eyes, and then whipped out a pair of binoculars. "Ah, second window on the left, fourteenth floor," she said, holding them out to Frank. "He's in a green dress shirt and black slacks. That's our guy." She didn't say whether or not this was the human target, and with vampires sometimes it became hard to tell.

She began taking out her gear. "Hulk smash," she growled to herself as she assembled her rifle. "One of these days, I'm using my .50 cal."

Frank was actually almost panting from trying to keep up with Skye. Something wasn't right about that. He was still a fairly young guy and in damn good shape. Her being able to out run him was one thing, he'd been outrun before...but to just smoke him like that? Something was going on here....

"Whoa ease up there. You're pretty fast...is there something going on here I need to know about? You're not a damn vampire are you? Thats about the only other thing I've seen quite that quick and agile. Anyway, let me get this spotting scope set up and I'll be ready to either spot or shoot...whichever one you think is best,"

Frank had also noticed the strange balancing act on the building edge. Yes something was strange here with this woman. But there was work to be done, so Frank unpacked the spotting scope and set about training it on the man in the window as Skye was assembling her rifle. He glanced over at the gun, hmmm something HAD to be strange about a good looking woman, that could outrun him, killed monsters AND had a better sniper rifle than he did.

"No," she said casually as she finished up her rifle. With a last tug of all pieces to ensure they were taught, she loaded it and looked up at him, her features still serene and pleasant. "I'm a shifter," she answered matter of factly. She stood up and walked the length of the roof, before dropping to one knee in order to position her tripod. "I'll let you shoot the other one," she said, setting her scope. She had a keen sense of sight, but she allowed her mechanics to do their own jobs. The scope was re-calibrated often, so she had little cause for worry.

A few moments passed in silence with her twisted around the form of her rifle. With a small rise of her chest indicating her inhale, she squeezed the trigger twice- and then quickly fell on her back, hooking one foot around the tripod and taking it down on its side. She rolled over, still below the natural curve of the roof - an onlooker wouldn't see anything except for an empty rooftop if she was lucky. She looked over at Frank, whom she prayed had dropped to the ground when she had.

"Now we need to get going," she instructed. She kicked her tripod towards herself, letting it skitter in the gravelly rooftop to her hand. With a few motions, she'd broken it back down, and craned around to drag her bag to her. She still wasn't interested in standing up - she could hear commotion from the building she'd just shot into, and wagered it wouldn't be long before they started to run a search. She crammed it back into her bag, and slung the rifle over her shoulder via a convenient strap.

"Ready to run?" she asked. "We need to go before they bring out the search light, which they will do soon."

A shifter, wonder what kinda animal she was? Frank was amused that he had been dropped in the deep end of this pool so to speak. Out killing vampires with a shape shifter...Wow. He was peering through the spotting scope when Skye pulled the trigger. Frank grunted involuntarily when the rounds hit. It was slightly more difficult to watch the shots when he wasn't the one making them. He watched as the target jerked and painted some nice crimson arcs on the wall. "Tango down", he muttered, mostly out of habit.

He hit the dirt at about the same time Skye did, breaking down the scope as he did so. He tucked everything back in and zipped up the little case it came in. He rolled to a crouch ready to take off when she was. Searchlights and police were one of the main reasons he had avoided working in America during his merc career...it was just so much easier to get away with bringing about death and destruction in some 3rd world hell hole. Ahh well...time to go!

"Well..if we're running you better take it easy on me, I'm just regular ole human..not a damn cheetah or whatever you are", Frank replied with a grin.