Slate
Member
There were ten of them, plus his two rogues. That, Obsidian knew for sure. The warehouse wasn’t one of his, but one they had fortified themselves. Their small drone had captured images of the maze of crates and steel reinforcement walls before Chrysoberyl had destroyed it. The center of the warehouse had been full of the stolen guns and other equipment they had taken from the last shipment. It wasn’t everything that had gone missing, but Obsidian knew the culprits behind the rest of their missing weapons.
He and Sulphur stood outside one of the doors, gearing up for the assault. Obsidian had shed his long wool coat in exchange for several pieces of body armor to go on over his button-down and vest. He kept his gloves on. They didn’t stop his powers, and never really had, but they were a small comfort. He preferred them to the idea of skin-on-skin contact. That was a level of intimacy he couldn’t afford with his victims. A flash of hot skin against his own flashed through his mind. The memory of the feeling of teeth on his shoulder, on his chest, and he adjusted his collar.
He couldn’t think about that right now. That was for another time. Instead, he turned to his right-hand man. Sulphur likewise had exchanged his coat for body armor, and was checking his DDM4 RIS III, inspecting the weapon for any flaws. His gun was bigger and packed far more punch than Obsidian’s Dan Wesson DWX. But that was the only gun that Obsidian trusted. He cared for it personally, and it had never jammed or misfired in the year he’d had it. He chambered the first round, keeping his finger off the trigger. He looked to Sulphur again, and this time, the man was looking at him, awaiting instruction.
Around them, the four others they had brought with them were also standing, ready and at attention. They had brought some low-tier powered individuals from the local Slate branch with them. Mason, who had enhanced strength. Lawson, who had above-average speed, was even faster than Obsidian. Franky, who never missed a shot he took due to his enhanced vision and accuracy. And Seth, who could blend into the darkness with even more efficiency than Obsidian could. They’d all been picked for their strategic usefulness in this situation. And they were also all candidates for transfer to the Philly branch.
In some way, all of these men had exceptional potential. They were gifted in their departments, whether that was finance or training or operations. He knew they were all reliable, and this operation would allow any who survived the chance to advance in the organization. Obsidian rewarded dedication and hard work. And above all, he valued when someone displayed that they could act with sense without direct orders. He valued when people could adapt to situations. This was as much a test for them as it was a mission to take out his two rogues.
Obsidian couldn’t allow rogues. They set a bad example. They showed that you could leave and oppose him without threat of retaliation. You were allowed to retire, of course, but you weren’t allowed the freedom to become direct opposition. They showed a weakness in his leadership that left others questioning him.
That needed to be corrected immediately.
So with a few hand signs, Obsidian conveyed instructions. Enter the building. Surround them. Take no surrenders. Leave none alive. The team nodded their heads and all activated their comms. Obsidian and Sulphur activated their own and with a quick nod to one another, they entered the building.
