Sniper Mask And Kuon Novels & Stories

In less than fourteen seconds she killed thirteen men without even her breath getting uneven. She was wearing a masquerade mask, black with silver intricate design on her dark head. Zion took out a similar mask and kept it on the table "She is the Kuznetsuv's secret weapon, their very own female terminator, only does lethal assassinations. These men in the video were men who were contract-killers and she killed them like one would slice a knife in butter." Daniel gulped down the century-old wine from the rim, looking at the woman in a black latex body-hugging attire, moving swiftly and fluently, with squinted eyes. She had deep curves in all the right places. A 100% babe.

Among the assassins, the Blades managed to capture a member of the Pentalium. Then, the Inquisition signals his right-hand man Morgan, who has the armor of the Blades but a unique design to his mask. The mask shows a large grin, which is where the wearer's mouth should be. Morgan and the Blades dragged the bodies of the assassins they intercepted on the road, which they presented to the public.

But unfortunately, Simon wasn’t a man that would be killed easily. The masked man whose name was Mark kicked open the front door after blowing it off with his .45 caliber, he focused the gun on unseen targets while he held a torchlight with his left hand. “He’s in the room, he hasn’t moved yet,” the sniper guy spoke through the speaker in Mark’s ear. “Get the fuck out of my ear, I’ll handle this,” Mark whispered angrily, as he took each step with extreme caution. “Fuck you Mark,” the sniper guy cursed.

ARIA POV I took a quick sip of my orange juice then brought my attention back to Killian. He was dressed in a blue long sleeve shirt and black long pants. He had a headset blocking his ear — I was given one as well but didn't wear it since I wasn't the one shooting — as he closed on eye, his right hand holding a gun and the other supporting it. He aimed for the target then fired. The sun was very loud that I had to cover my ears and I regret not wearing a headset as well. Maybe that's why I was given one?

Night, in his dangerous mask and tactical gear, emerged, holding the revolver, pointing it towards the cousins, serving as a final lock on the trap. “Absolutely, Boss.”

He pulled his secure comm pad from his wrist guard and punched in Freda’s emergency code. The Jimenez heir accepted the transmission immediately, logging a set of coordinates for a neutral lounge in the lower commercial district before severing the link. Ronan donned a heavy combat mask to conceal his rank and navigated his interceptor to the designated sector. Freda was already stationed in a secure booth, her frame wrapped in a soft, light-toned silk tunic, her hair pinned back with delicate silver combs that completely contradicted her usual combat profile.

The only thing that makes them differ from one another is their build and their weapons. Sniper, pistol, grenades, crossbow, they have it hanging on their back but most of all, they have katana on their belts. “All organizations were scared of them back in the days. But these years, they lie low that some have forgotten about them and mafias took advantage of that.” I heaved a sigh of relief. At least, we have a chance to win now. Let the games begin then.

The moonlight dressed the land in a gleaming white layer. Within the silent gloom of Nova in Veil's armoury, Roy checked the straps of his black coat, tucked his gloves into place and lifted the collapsable mask from its stand. Black steel edges melding into a sleek, curved surface with that single ornate stone hanging from its left side. He didn’t put it on yet. Only held it. Looking at it. It meant something to him. The teardrop of the crimson jewel. Kieran finished buckling the straps of his combat harness, sliding his sword into place along his spine.

Five people to sneak into the heart of the enemy. They gathered in a smaller cave that served as an armory. It wasn't filled with swords and shields, but with tools of subtle war. Ronan traded his crystal-tipped spear for a wicked-looking knife made of black, volcanic glass, its edge so sharp it seemed to cut the light. He checked the tension of a powerful, compact crossbow, its bolts tipped with a paralytic toxin derived from a desert scorpion.

Some shoot me dirty glare. "My wife is pregnant, it better be something worth my precious time.___" Kia tells me. Kia is my sniper and this man does the impossible when handed Nr.1 Barrett M82. "We go with Kia." Becky says as he pulls his Sig Sauer P210 and places it on the table. "You know this is not going to work on me." I tell them and the crowd starts hooting my name. I should remind them they aren't young anymore. "It's nice to see this young man. We thought you'll forget." Matt says. He is the oldest among all but his tricks and plans are always on point.