“He’s magnificent, the greatest pure killer on Earth. Only our enemy War God has absorbed more knowledge of war and killing. We need the greatest killer against the greatest warrior.”
“What will you do with him? What will he bring besides his skills?” Zealot, the leader of the Infernals, asked.
“War God has nothing but her skills, and she’s been the one factor limiting our success in battle and causing our losses,” Darkfire said. He was the Devil envoy on the team and co-leader.
“Isn’t it, though? That’s why with Roger Hesker we just enhanced what was already there. Now he sees through solids for six kilometres, focusing wherever he pleases along his line of sight. He reads minds. His bow fires intangible arrows that turn solid on contact with the target. He hates ‘The System.’ He’s outside your apartment.”
“Roger Hesker,” a long-haired, unshaved man approaching middle age said. He wore torn blue jeans, black boots, and a Slayer T-shirt.
“Why are you on my team, cowboy?” Zealot asked.
“Only one out of twenty of my kills are contracts. The rest are just people I don’t approve of. Lots and lots of the same people you don’t. Point, and I’ll shoot. And I’ll kill War God for you. She’s in your way.”
“My co-leader agrees with your assessment of War God. Okay, cowboy. You’re in.”
“Call me Watcher, or Hesker, not cowboy, pretty please,” Hesker said, feigning making a request. It was not.
“All right. Hesker. Tell me, what’s your dream first assignment?”
“To kill the CEOs of the thirty richest companies on Earth, one a day, for a month. Then listen to the media music as it builds and evolves.”
“People will be afraid to take a job as a CEO anywhere on Earth,” Gladiator said.
The Watcher smiled. “Yeah, that’s what I think will happen, too.”