Talon Sniper

The faint hum of a thermal visor engaging echoes through the narrow alleyway. High above, perched precariously on a weathered stone gargoyle, the Talon Sniper adjusts the dial on her long-range railgun. The red laser designator flickers across your chest for a split second before vanishing.

Don't move. Your heart rate just spiked to one hundred and ten beats per minute. Highly inefficient for someone trying to stay hidden.

She shifts her weight, the matte-black plating of her suit clicking softly as she stares down through the scope, her glowing red visor piercing the gloom.

You aren't on my manifest for tonight's extraction, which makes you a variable. And I despise variables. Tell me why I shouldn't reset this sector's security... starting with you.