These men had finally learned to be cautious.
If they had hired a professional assassin from the start, Nolan would never have survived.
But greed had undone them. Their schemes not only provided Nolan with his first real funds to fight back, but also bought him two precious months to recover.
"Damn it! Which one of you was followed?" Campbell's face twisted with unease.
Nolan gave him a mocking smile and tapped a few keys on the laptop in his hand. From Campbell's jacket, a button-sized robot leapt down onto the floor.
Campbell's expression darkened. He crushed the tiny surveillance bot under his heel.
The men exchanged uneasy glances.
Such precision engineering? There was no way Nolan Lock built that himself.
Even Stark Industries might not possess technology on this level.
"Kill him!"
Klaw was the first to snap out of it.
Nolan Lock had to die. By now, they were mortal enemies. Nolan walking into their meeting seemed like reckless stupidity.
They all had bodyguards standing close.
One of them, a scar-faced brute, rushed at Nolan without hesitation.
Nolan's expression remained calm.
"Alpha Slayers, eliminate the threat."
The moment he spoke, three hulking machines dropped down from the rafters of the warehouse. They had been waiting there all along.
The scar-faced man was crushed beneath one in an instant.
"What are those monsters!"
Campbell and the others recoiled in shock.
Nolan's voice was almost playful.
"These are the weapons I designed to open doors with the military and establish myself as an arms dealer. If you hadn't turned against me, these machines would have made you a fortune.
Unfortunately for you… tonight, they are your executioners."
As he spoke, the three Alpha Slayers tore through the bodyguards with terrifying efficiency.
No firearms were needed.
They were assassins built for close combat, and that was their deadliest weapon.
The Aryan Brotherhood hadn't stood a chance against them these hired guards stood even less.
In seconds, all of them were dead.
Fear and regret washed over Campbell and his allies.
Now they understood what had happened to the Brotherhood.
If only they hadn't moved against Nolan Lock, perhaps they could have risen to become the titans of American industry.
But it was too late. Everything was lost.
Nolan's expression was cold and steady.
The only good enemy was a dead one.
Moments later, Nolan walked out of the warehouse.
The night sky was clear and beautiful above him.
High on an overpass overlooking the port, a man licked his finger and adjusted the scope on his sniper rifle.
"The wind's a bit strong tonight, but nothing I can't handle. Shame, though those are some fine toys down there. Maybe I should have charged more. Still, side jobs are side jobs. Can't expect too much profit."
He was a contract killer from a group known as the Brotherhood.
Normally, he only took assignments dictated by the Loom of Fate.
But those paid too little. He needed extra income, even if it meant moonlighting.
He felt a twinge of regret.
But in his trade, reputation mattered above all.
Earning less was better than breaking his word.
Then he fired.
Bang!
The gunshot cracked across the night sky.
A single sniper round screamed across more than a kilometer, aimed squarely at Nolan.
It was a beyond-visual-range kill shot, the bullet traveling faster than sound itself, backed by the shooter's flawless marksmanship.
Nolan Lock was as good as dead.
Or so the assassin thought.
The next instant, his face stiffened.
Because Nolan suddenly crouched.
The round meant for his forehead slammed into a shipping container behind him.
Boom!
Metal burst apart with a thunderous impact.
Nolan's pupils contracted sharply.
If he hadn't ducked, that shot would have torn half his body apart.
This wasn't just an ambush.
This was a professional assassin!
Every nerve in Nolan's body screamed danger.
Back at Lock Corporation, Charles sipped his coffee as he gazed out toward the port.
"Nolan… don't blame me. I had no choice."
He savored the taste of the coffee.
"I really am getting old. Time to head home. Tomorrow's going to be busy."
He set his mug down and left the building.
At the docks, Nolan dashed behind a container for cover.
He exhaled slowly, forcing down the panic.
Another shot tore through the air, grazing his arm and ripping open his sleeve.
The cold sweat ran down his back.
Even behind cover, the sniper's aim was uncanny.
The terrain here was terrible open lines of sight, nowhere to run. From any vantage point, the assassin could lock down his position completely.
And his skill… it was terrifying.
Nolan clenched his teeth.
He opened his laptop.
The weak AI embedded in his system was too limited complex instructions required manual input.
If only he had a true strong AI like the Red Queen. With that, and three Alpha Slayers at his disposal, the assassin would already be finished.
One of his Slayers stepped out from behind cover.
A sniper round struck it instantly.
The machine staggered, but kept moving.
The killer narrowed his eyes and fired again.
This time, the round smashed into the Slayer's joint. Sparks burst out as the machine ground to a halt.
Nolan's shock deepened.
That level of precision… who was this man?
But he had no time to hesitate.
If he didn't act now, he wouldn't live through the night.
The mechanical armor on his back unfolded and sealed around him.
It was stripped down his $80 million fortune had been almost entirely consumed by the Alpha Slayers and the surveillance tech. He had only $7 million left, just enough to purchase this suit.
He had sacrificed every weapon system, keeping only the essentials: defense and rapid deployment.
It was the right choice.
Without this armor, he'd already be dead.
Now, at least, he had a chance to fight back.
He moved.
At the same time, the remaining two Alpha Slayers surged forward to shield him.
The assassin sneered and squeezed the trigger.
One shot. Then another.
Rounds slammed into the machines, tearing through them. The second Slayer collapsed, sparks sputtering from its broken frame.
And then the killer blinked.
Where was the target?
The first machine had vanished as well.
Damn it.
Had the boy fled? His expression soured.
But Nolan hadn't run.
He was circling, closing in on the assassin's position.
Run away?
Not when a threat like this was still alive.
Not until the hunter became the hunted.