BGC:Opening Gambits (Face to Face prequel)

By Kain The Seeker
	AKA  Andrew Graham (kaintskr@aol.com)
	and (coplotted by) Deunan (deunan@aol.com)

----

The heat was stifling, suffocating her with her own breath.  She felt
dizzy; the humidity of the airshaft was getting to her.  Closing her eyes,
Sylia remembered.  All of the images floating across her vision were in
perfect photographic images.  A gift from her deceased father.  A surge of
rage pushed her onward past the pain and exhaustion.

She slid through the vent of the guest quarters with no more difficulty, 
after all to appearances she was merely a small 12-year-old girl.  That was
something that she had capitalized on in the many months since the courts had
deposited her in the boarding school that her father had chosen in his will,
while her younger brother was sent to another, distant, boys school.

By playing the role of the quiet serious child, she had been underestimated.
That allowed her access to the tools and places that she needed to prepare for
her move tonight. Her apparent youth had been translated into inexperience and
a lack of maturity.

Definitely not someone capable of hacking into the school computers and 
making an invisible back door in the security system. Or being seen as 
skilled enough to use the machine shop and chem lab to craft the knife and gun
that were now resting under her jacket in makeshift holsters.

Twelve year olds don't have the patience to crawl through ducting and wait 5
hours for the man that she was seeking to return from the school dinner and
fall asleep. They don't spend months solely focused on one objective.

They don't plan out murder with cold-blood efficiency.

But Sylia Stingray had done all that, and much more in the months since her
father's murder.

-----

The pistol was makeshift, cobbled together from scrap metal with craftsmanship
far beyond anything possible for one so young as it's maker. The silencer was
as long as the makeshift barrel and the homemade bullets within were designed
to fragment on impact. The brass casings were rebored rounds from a signal
pistol and the extra powder was mixed from the contents of the schools kitchen
and chem-lab.

If Sylia had been a normal girl, she wouldn't be here in the school guest
quarters. She would be in the girls' dorm asleep. But, she wasn't, her father
had seen to that. 

All because of the man asleep in the bed in beneath her, Quincy.  Pressing the
gun's barrel between the vent's grill, she took aim.  She studied the movement
of his body and breathing.  She held her breath and fired two rounds to the
head.  The dull bark of the weapon was muted, not even echoing down the ducts.
Heart pounding in disbelief, she saw no more movement.  

Carefully, she opened the grill dropping herself to the floor.  She emptied
the final round into his chest for good measure.  "Its over you bastard," she
whispered.  The enormity of her actions fell upon her like a crashing wave.
-Finally, it is over father.-

The empty gun shook in her hands.  Her heart pounded in her ears.  Her knees
felt wobbly.  "Damn you father, damn all of you..."  She moaned lowering the
gun.  Tears came to her eyes.  A figure detached itself from the wall.

Her vision went red as the blow struck underneath her chin, sending her
spinning to the ground.  The gun skittered across the floor, knocked from her
grip.

"No...no..your...,"  Sylia cried scrambling away from the figure.  She
cast a glance behind towards the bed.  

The gravely voice responded, "A mere animitronic puppet."  Quincy took a step
forward, his cane tapped against the floor. She watched in horrified
fascination as drops of her blood slid down the shaft from the polished
handpiece.  Quincy reached with his cane retrieving her gun.  "Crude,
dangerous..," he commented examining it.  Sylia shifted her weight preparing
to leapt to her feet only to have the tip of the cane jab her chest lightly.
"Now, little girl.  Tell me why you would want to throw your life away trying
to kill me?"

Fury coursed through Sylia's veins.  Clenching her fists, she shook with
rage.  "You killed my father!!"  She spat.  "You warped or destroyed 
everything he ever hoped for."  Quincy raised an eyebrow in astonishment.

"Did I?"  He replied with a question.  "Ah yes, the petty scientist.
He died in a lab accident I believe.  To tell you the truth, I don't even
remember his name."  Sylia winced as if struck by his cane once again.  

"You bastard," sobbed.  Lashing out like a cobra, she lunged at him.  
Quincy merely sidestepped her advance.

"Sloppy,"  he critiqued.  "Your father Katsuhiko was nothing."  He sneered.
"And you are even a lesser a threat to me than his silly vows.  Yes, I killed
a king, but you are a mere pawn of a dead man."  

Sylia looked up fearfully into his emotionless eyes.  "Now what?!  Are you
going to kill me, like you did him!!"  She shouted.  Quincy exhaled sharply
shaking his head only to turn making his way to the room's only door.  

"You do not know what you are saying.  Go back to your childish games and
forget, Sylia Stingray.  You did not know your father."  He said not 
bothering to turn and face her.  The door closed behind me leaving her, alone
with her rage and the darkness.

"I'll see you dead," she whispered holding back the tears, as the memories
washed over her again like an unending vid. -You're wrong Quincy, you didn't
know my father, I know him all too well.- 

***********

Quincy looked up from the reports on his desk.  The military specs on his
computer screen were replaced by a simple line of text.

"White Pawn, to King 2."  He whispered reading the screen.  -Katsuhiko, you
failed once again.  Now you've given everything, your mind, your soul, and now
your daughter to me.-

He looked over at the  board, and moved the piece on the board to the position
indicated. Hopefully this player will be more interesting than the last.

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