If it thinks, you can take it down, and thoughts tend to be faster than a trigger finger. You make the briefest pause in your run, slamming your mind into whoever it is threatening you, looking for purchase.
Protected. Not by dampeners but discipline, able to withstand your assault for the brief moment needed to pull the trigger.
Too slow, the missile is on target, and you barely have time to curse before the missile hits you head-on.
The explosion is loud, causing your armor to lock down all sounds but the ringing in your ears; your HUD has gone black from the bright flash of impact. You've been thrown back into the wall, but the impact was blunt, and the armor protected you from whatever shrapnel there was. It can't have been a military-grade missile; there are not enough damage alerts for that.
A flash-bang? A stunner? Intent to shock but not kill. You're plenty bruised, though, and your armor's blaring in protest from the point-blank hit as you get to your feet.
Still moving. That's good enough, now let's see who…
Oh no. You know that thought pattern.
Marshal Steel.
"You." Marshal Steel speaks first, which is unusual, but from the look of things, he did not plan to run into you here. The feeling is mutual. You have to wonder what favors Carter has called in to get the Marshal as a bodyguard. And who he has pissed off enough to feel that he'd need to go that far.
"I've been looking forward to this," you growl, your vocal distorters picking up on your anger, turning your voice even more discordant. "You've been a slippery target."
"Just waiting for the right moment. It's been a long time coming." Steel's voice is controlled. He's wearing combat armor like you are, not his heavy military one for the huge threats, but the midrange one for patrols and flexibility. Armored. Fast. Missiles. A short-range plasma cutter. No dampeners, but his mind is hard to read, especially since you don't want to go deep and risk him recognizing who you are.
"Really? Revenge, is it?" You're on the balls of your feet, ready to move the moment he does. "Only fair I give you the treatment the rest of your team got then."
"Not revenge." You can hear the click as the missile panel slides open. "Justice."
Behind him, you hear Carter protest loudly: "No! Don't you dare mess up my house!"
The Marshal doesn't hesitate, and the missile flies toward you. You're ready for it, activating the jump-jets, you leap past them to the next landing.
The explosion rocks the stairwell, Steel shielding Carter with his body, but you can feel his distress about the destruction. At the fact that the Marshal just ignored his command. Ignored him! The indignity!
Is that a hint of smugness you feel from Steel?
Maybe. Maybe just a hint.
"You should leave, Mr. Carter." Yes, there is that smugness leaking out, but if you hadn't spent too many years dissecting Steel's moods, you would have missed it. "I'll hold Garrett Helton X off."
There's a moment of hesitation when you think Carter might defy the command, then his eyes shift to you, and he turns and flees through a side door. Is there another way to the roof? Probably. It's a big mansion.
If you're honest with yourself, you have been looking forward to this. Looking forward to finally getting the opportunity to test your mettle. Marshal Steel is not Herald, not even Ortega, where even though he's skilled, it's still mostly flesh. Steel's armor is durable—a tough nut to crack.
This is going to be fun.
You know you can beat him in hand-to-hand combat, but the armor is the wild card here.
"Just another contract killer." Marshal Steel's voice is slightly metallic beneath his helmet, but his modulators are not made to mask his voice like yours are. "I thought you were an independent operator."