The place was crawling with guards. I could see two out in front, and at least four others within my range of view patrolling around the sides. Two snipers were across the street, and several more in various bars along the block. I lowered the binoculars.

“The target isn’t there yet.” I said to the air.

“Hang on, we’re tracking him. Right, he should be rounding the corner in five seconds.” says the voice in my ear.

The voice belongs Jamie, the person in charge of the intelligence department at headquarters. She is speaking through a radio implant in my ear. The implant also allows me to communicate to headquarters. All I need to do is talk out loud, and the receiver will transmit my voice to base. Like one of those hands-free cell phones. Except I can never turn this thing off, which can get annoying sometimes.

“Ace, you have the green light. Tread softly, though. Remember, this is a hotel.” The new voice belongs to my boss. For security reasons, I am not allowed to know his name. But for all intents and purposes, when I’m on the job, he is God.

I see the car turn the corner and stop in front of the hotel. Three more goons with guns get out, followed by who I assume is Jack Grianmore, a terrorist cell leader and my target. My objective is to remove him from action, whether by a bullet to the head or brought in alive for questioning. Either one is fine by Boss.

“Target has arrived, I’m moving in.” I say.

“Be careful. You’re no good to anyone dead.”

“Boss, have I ever let you down?” I ask.

“There’s a first time for everything.”

I lean over the edge of the roof that I’ve been sitting on for the past eight hours, and judge the distance to the ground. I uncoil my climber’s rope, and toss the exact length needed to reach the ground over the edge and secure the end to a pipe. Carefully, so as to attract as little attention as possible, I ease myself down to the ground.

I casually walk by the hotel to size up the guards on the inside and by the doors. More than I can handle. The front door’s not the way in, then. Or maybe it is.

As I reach the end of the block, I see two guards sitting at the bar across the street. As I watch, one gets up and enters the restroom. I hurry across the street and into the bar and sit down next to the lone guard. He’s really drunk.

“That was fast, Bob. I thought that you just left.” He says, slurring the words.

“He did, and now you can join him.” I whisper, knocking him unconscious with a swift blow to the back of his neck. As I am picking his limp form up, the bartender demands to know what happened.

“Nothing serious. He just needs to sleep off the beer he drank. He’s not good at controlling his liquor intake.” I say to him, which appears to satisfy his curiosity. He goes back to wiping glasses.

I carry the guard to the restroom, preparing to fight his mate. Luckily, however, when I open the door, I see guard number two out cold on the floor. I lay down the first guard next to his friend, then take the uniform of the one that is around my build. I put it on. A little loose, but it will have to do. I’m in a hurry.

I exit the building and march up to the hotel and enter. The guards don’t try to stop me. I step into the elevator and close the door.

“Which room?” I ask.

“329.” Boss answers.

I go to the third floor and exit the elevator. Ten guards are stationed in the hallway. This is going to be tough. Room 329 is to the left, where eight of the ten guards are standing. I decide to go the other way. Each guard is armed with an AK-47 and a side arm. I decide not to tango with the guards, and instead head into the ice room. Fate is smiling at me. There is an air vent near the ceiling that I can just barely squeeze through. I have to ditch the AK-47 I got from my friend at the bar, though. I enter the crawl space with no room to spare and make my way towards room 329. Soon enough, I hear voices. As I draw nearer, I can make out what they are saying.

“…the bomb?”

“It’s being taken care of.”

“Has Frank given you the codes?”

“No.”

There are at least three guys in the room. One is standing beneath the vent, and the others are just out of my view. Then one walks by. Carefully, while the guys in the room continue their conversation, I loosen the cover of the vent. I prepare to fight.

“Why can’t we just attack now?”

“Frank has plans. If we attack now, we will lose the war.”

“Let someone else win the war. We’ll at least win our battle.”

“No. We accomplish nothing by striking now. We wait.”

Well, I’m sure as hell won’t. I drop on the guy standing beneath me. As I fall, I draw my sidearm and fire at the guy standing. I land and find the third guy in a chair across the room. He’s all ready getting up to call the guards. I don’t let him. A single shot is all it takes. I turn to the door, prepared for guards to rush in. No one comes in. I holster the gun and turn to the guy who broke my fall. It’s Grianmore. Looks like Boss’s people will be able to question him after all. I go to the window and look out. I’m facing the back alley. One guard is on watch. I aim and fire a silenced shot. No guards. I go back to the bodies and search them. I find identification for all three. I pocket them. They’re probably fake, but Jamie will love to see them.

I pick up Grianmore and secure him to my back. Don’t want him to fall while I’m climbing down. I exit the window and make my way from shadow to shadow until I reach the building that I descended down half an hour ago. I climb back up and pull up the rope after me.

“Package secure. Requesting extraction.”

“Good work, Ace. Sending the helicopter now.”

I hear a racket behind me, and turn. The guards must have found my two friends at the bar. They’re running everywhere. The helicopter arrives, and I get onboard. As we fly away, I smile to myself. I love this job.

My name is Nick Holt. I am the Point of the Sword.