Rehabilitation (original short)

Jason held the gun in his hands. He’d woken up in a hotel, with the gun, and a letter. Normal really, that was how you did things with a customer. You didn’t see them, and so you couldn’t sell them out. Sure they could sell you out, but if the police knew enough to set that trap, they wouldn’t bother.

“Mr. Isaacs, as you know, we have contacted you for the purpose of eliminating a problem. You are a killer, and you come highly recommended to us.”

Jason shook his head. He’d come here after another job. Now someone else wanted his talents. He read the letter, saw the cash-card with his advance.

Jason preferred cash, but cash was getting increasingly rare. Too easy to track, ironically, since now every business had a logging machine that would scan in the serial numbers. Try to pass too many big bills, and it got flagged, to the IRS, if nobody else.

But the gun, the gun was a nice model. The entire unit was made out of advanced polymers, even the barrel. Eight rounds, not that he would need more than one. Advanced scope, and most importantly, a little red pull-tab.

Pull it, and thirty seconds later, the entire gun would be a puddle of gunk, leaving absolutely no evidence behind. Well, no evidence, than the fact that somebody had an unregistered maker. But that wasn’t going to be his problem.

No, his problem was his target.

Jessica Wilson, will be at Sixth and Main at four. Your smart scope will identify her.

Evidently his employers didn’t want any leaks. He’d just use the smart scope.

It was funny that after all the stories about killer robots, it was still better to use a person.

He scanned the street corner, there were a ton of kids, just getting out of school and…

What the hell? Jason stared as the smart scope identified the target.

She looked like she was in fifth grade. Maybe sixth. Talking to some friends.

The indicator pulsed red.

What the hell. Is it defective? He—

“Mr. Isaacs, is there a problem?”

Did they keep a link open? That was… Either very stupid or showing someone had very good infosec—the kind that only the biggest players, criminal or government could afford.

“Your scope is defective,” he said. “It’s…”

“Jessica Wilson, age 11. We’re showing no signs of malfunction.”

“What the fuck!” he snarled. “A kid? Why?”

“That isn’t your affair. She has simply become an issue and you remove issues. You have already taken our money. Are you declining…”

Jason knew what that meant. In this business, failing to do a job came with higher penalties than simply paying the money back. It meant you were unreliable.

And the kind of players that could afford this set up…

“Yes,” He said, hitting a button on his belt, the comlink fizzing out as the local EMP fried every bit of electronics on his body. He pulled the tab on the gun, and didn’t even bother to look behind him as he bolted for the door. Even a big organization couldn’t have people everywhere and he’d—

The first shot punched through his chest, slamming Jason back into the dissolving mass of the sniper rifle. He reached up for his little polymer one-shot but barely got it out before the black-armored figure who had been waiting for him raised his rifle and pointed it directly at his head.

Ah shi—the world flashed and went dark.

****

Jason blinked, looking around. I was dead, I was… He stared at his body, untouched in a gown, hands secured to the sides of the chair.

“Ah, Mr. Isaacs. Excellent,” he looked at the man to his side, some kind of forgettable face, wearing a lab coat.

“What—who the fuck are you?”

“Your doctor.” The man tilted his head. “You should be remembering at this point…”

Jason Isaac, for twelve counts of Murder in the First Degree you are sentenced to life in prison without possibility of parole or rehabilitation, the decision being left up to you…

He blinked. I remember… I chose rehabilitation… Because what moron wouldn’t? A chance at getting out, say the right thing, do the song and dance… But…

“You didn’t say anything about this!” He said. “Killing a k—“

“Which you did not. I’m quite happy about that.” The man looked down at a tablet. “Of course, most people don’t kill for money, period. As for not saying anything… You signed up for rehabilitation. Didn’t you?”

“I figured it would be…”

“A man sitting behind a desk, who you could lie to?” He shook his head. “No. Rehabilitation is the process of restoring someone to a useful and constructive place in society, not mind you, by making them a slave. My goal is that you will walk out here, and find yourself, valuing others, not more than you value yourself, but as much as you value yourself, and I can see you value yourself very highly indeed.”

“And what the fuck is this for?”

“Establishing your limits. We have one, you will not kill a child, not even at risk of your own life. When we find out what you are willing to do, we’ll know what limits to work on.”

“And what do I get from this, go off and become some office drone?” Jason snarled.

“Oh, you’re somehow better than an office drone?” The man replied, his voice dry. “They do not earn their money by shedding the blood of others. But no, once you are certified, you may walk out of this institute, free to do whatever you please… save keep the delusion that you are somehow worthy to meet out murder as part of your daily activities. Now, forgive me, but we have much to do.”

“Hey—“ The man touched a button and suddenly Jason’s world dissolved.

Jason held the gun in his hands. He’d woken up in a hotel, with the gun, and a letter. Normal really, that was how you did things with a customer. You didn’t see them, and so you couldn’t sell them out. Sure they could sell you out, but if the police knew enough to set that trap, they wouldn’t bother.

“Mr. Isaacs, as you know, we have contacted you for the purpose of eliminating a problem…”

As he listened to the message, Jason shook his head. He was getting too used to this. He could have sworn he’d heard this message before…

End

(I'm getting the next chapter of Orb Weaver ready, hopefully tomorrow, but the interlude's sort of kicked my ass. Here's an original!)