You'd Always Choose To Continue
The kill had gone as planned. In her accounts, finally, was the amount required to begin again.
Twenty floors above the dark streets of the city, Terri returned to a run-down tenement. One of her many safehouses. This one, the tallest of them all, and potentially the nicest. Her place to relax. To observe. From here, she could see most of the city, its neon lights burning through the night.
She began drawing out her plans. The first stage had already begun; putting out “feelers” to find those who’d be willing to help bring about a change, to create a team who were ready to fight for freedom from the mires that held this city in its grasp, and to forge herself into something that could help save those most vulnerable.
Her skillful hands were adept with weapons. The warm tearing of a cold blade, the solid click of a handgun, these were the tools she was used to. These things, these ideas of self-security, were seen as unmentionables, in a quasi-forbidden state in this society. The society for which she worked. The society in which she lived. The society that she would set free.
Projected in AR around her, various plans, potential safehouse conversions, and photos of candidates. A few were familiar. Some, she’d even had some...interesting run ins with as of late. Xav was on her list, a man with a strong moral backbone, and the skills to match. Dex too, encountered through that strange meeting in the streets, had been highlighted to her prior by a contact.
Other names flashed by, but she put them aside for now. Focusing on other plans, properties, supplies.
Memories.
‘.....Давайте обратимся эту машину в героя.’