Two Strays and a Fated Meeting (Closed with millianathecat)
This was one of his favorite types of guards. Lazy, lacking in creativity, and bored. Forty three steps along the front, stopping, leaning against a barrel, and kicking it loudly before turning the corner. Train dropped down behind a stack of crates when he kicked the barrel, the sound masking the muted thump of him hitting the ground. He waited until the man turned the corner, darting after him, low and out of sight. He caught up quickly, without incident, leaping towards his back, Hades flashing down in his hand, meeting the back of his skull with a barely audible thwack. The man crumpled soundlessly in a heap, and Train dragged him behind another pile of crates, keeping him just out of sight. He was here to take down a trafficking ring with some valuable cargo: people. Besides being morally obligated to stop them, Train was interested in the bounty of twenty thousand on each of their heads, the boss being two hundred thousand, himself.
He slipped in through a side door, keeping low, ears trained for movement. He stopped behind a counter where two of the targets were talking. He stood, spinning Hades' barrel, the man facing him going wide eyed before he pulled the trigger. The tranquilizer round struck the man's neck, the fast acting agent putting him out in seconds as Train leaned over the counter, grabbing the second man around the neck and putting him in a choke hold, yanking him over the counter and holding him there until he stopped struggling. Knock them out, hide the body, onto the next. Lather, rinse, repeat. He made his way through the warehouse like that, methodically picking off the smugglers one by one. Some of their conversations were interesting, though. The main thing he heard was talk about some girl with cat ears glued to her head or something? He never listened for much more than that, they usually ended up taking a dirt nap right after.
He eventually had taken out all but three of the smugglers, the head of the ring and his two bodyguards. From what he had gleaned, he was interrogating one of their stock. He edged the door to the small room he was in open, peeking inside. He saw the leader, a squat, middle aged man in nondescript clothing. And across the table...his eyes shot open. They hadn't been joking about the cat girl. She was tied up, a little worse for the wear, and, sparking a twinge of anger in Train's mind, seemed to have been beaten. The guards stood in the corners behind her, archaic assault rifles held loosely in their hands. Taking a deep breath, Train kicked the door open, his revolver rising as the guards, to their credit, reacted instantaneously. Their guns snapped up, pointing at him and only serving to give him two more targets. He squeezed his trigger twice, one directly after the other. His aim was perfect, the bullets streaking towards the guards. Impossibly, both shots went straight down the barrels of both guns, the impact rendering the guns (and the hands holding them) useless. He never stopped moving, a relentless, twisting storm of flesh and metal, lashing out with Hades, breaking one guard's knee, the other's collarbone, and finally coming to rest, barrel pointing directly at the leader's forehead, who was now cowering in the corner.
"Tony Ruiz, you're going to earn me a fat paycheck," Train said cheerfully into the silence, punctuated by the helpless groaning of the men writhing in pain around him. The whole process, from kicking the door down to now, had taken no longer than twenty seconds, and the fear from the men was palpable. "You all right, lil miss kitten?" he asked, smiling warmly at her over his shoulder.
