"How's business Abraham?"
"Doing well enough Ms. Merry." Fizzed the Bulky satellite phone at the woman's ear. "Our stock is emptying nearly as fast as we can fill it."
"Good to hear..." Replied MacKenzie absentmindedly, twirling a lock of her shockingly red hair in one finger. "No problems at all?"
"We're almost out of Marders."
The woman laughed. "That's a good problem to have."
"I suppose so, ma'm." Replied the satellite phone. "How's your son doing?"
"He's around here somewhere.." replied the arms dealer, making a show of half-heartedly looking around, absent mindedly noting the sound of a helicopters blades mingling with the horns and cries of bystanders on the streets below her hotel room. Oddly enough, the helicopter was the most normal thing of the group. It was an odd time for rush hour.
"Ms. Merry?"
"I'm gonna have to call you back Abraham." Muttered MacKenzie, throwing the brick of a phone onto her bed and rising, making for the open window.
Before she got there, it was occupied by something else.
A beast of steel, glass and armored plating. The downdraft of the attack helicopters blades forced the drapes back into the room like a pair of white, quivering ghosts. The noise was deafening.
MacKenzie stood, transfixed. Not scared, almost angry. She was calculating. She knew the model of the helicopter, she knew its payload, she knew where the pilots helmet would be so she could bore twin holes into it with her eyes, and she knew which way she needed to dive to avoid its weapons.
And it was good that she did, because less than a second later the attack helicopters guns began turning her entire floor into a scrap yard. High-caliber rounds tore through the buildings walls like they were tissue paper. Expensive paintings were torn to pieces and scattered onto the street below. Furniture was rendered to splinters, and her beds mattress became nothing but mulched cloth. The phone atop it disappeared entirely. Doctors would later find a shard of its case lodged in MacKenzies arm, along with 26 other individual pieces of shrapnel.
But MacKenzie Merry did not die. Sure, she didn't move for a while, but by the time the helicopter blades had receded she was hurting like hell. Her nose was bleeding, and her expensive clothing was punctured in several places by splinters and glass shards. Stumbling to her feet, she grimaced at the new hole in her wall and spat.
------
"Wouldn't you prefer a hospital Miss-"
"Fuck the hospital Brian, take me to the warehouse, now!"
"Oh sure, ms Merry, I mean it's just a little internal bleeding right?"
"I don't pay you to think Brian!" She yelled, painfully banging her bloody fist on the cars interior. "Warehouse. Now! And for the love of God, will somebody tell me where my fucking son is?!"
"He wasn't at the Hotel." Replied Brian. "He's off with Johnson. Who knows what they're getting into."
MacKenzie snorted humorlessly, and wiped the resulting runnel of blood from her nose. "Figures. Little ass."
It may have been Brian's imagination, but it almost looked like an expression of relief had flickered across his bosses face. No way to be certain, of course.
"Well, here we are boss. Merry Incorporated wareho- oh. That's not good."
Pillars of smoke cascaded from holes in the line of warehouses. Wrecked vehicles lay where they were parked, and several structures were on fire. An armed guard approached the car as it pulled up to the gate.
MacKenzie screamed something at him. He figured she was probably asking what happened.
"We were attacked."
"Well OBVIOUSLY!!!"
"Destroyed a bunch of the merchandise, then left."
"And what, you just let them? What the FUCK do you think I hired armed guards for?!"
The guard shrugged.
"Miss-" interjected Brian. "We should probably get you to a hospital.
------/
MacKenzie Merry has temporarily withdrawn from the Market. No rep can currently be gained with her, and no vehicles can be purchased from her.
MacKenzie Merry places a bounty of 500 GMC on the mobile Rangers company
