Standard disclaimer: I don't own nuthin' except my own OC.

They call me Match. It's because I'm a redhead, green eyes included, and all the cool names like Flame or Scarlet or Crimson were already taken. I also flare up easily, like redheads do commonly. By coincidence, red is also my favorite color, and I use it liberally when it comes to my attire. Perhaps the most telling part is the hooded scarlet cape that I love to use.

It should come with a warning, though. I positively, absolutely hate it when people call me "Little Red Riding Hood". If you value your continuing good health, you will not utter those words in my presence. Actually, I strongly recommend against even thinking them. Not only because of my temper, but also because I am not your run-of-the-mill 24-year-old. A normal girl is not usually capable of creating blade-like force fields, two-dimensional constructs whose thickness is measured in fractions of nanometers, so that they can easily penetrate between the atoms and molecules of your body and effortlessly cleave them apart. My force blades do not really mind what it is that they're cutting, since flesh, stone and metal offer just about the same resistance to them, that is to say, almost none.

Of course, the blades can take any rotational shape, but I prefer the simple ones and use mostly circles and ellipses. In the form of disks, circles are useful as shields and they can be thrown like Frisbees. Not that you would want to try and catch such a Frisbee with your hand, unless you are tired of having fingers. Disks are also useful as platforms that I can hop and fly around on. Air resistance and other factors mean I won't win any races using them, but it beats the hell out of running.

And just in case you were wondering, yes, I do know how to use my force fields in all their forms. After all, a girl in my line of business should not only rely on innate abilities, but also practice and improve herself constantly. Her life – my life – depends heavily on it. What do you mean, what line of business? Bounty hunting, of course!

Yes, I know what you're thinking, and no, I am not a mercenary. There is a difference. Mercs will work for the highest bidder. Bounty hunters stay bought once you pay them. As long as you keep paying them. Also, bounty hunters have a much clearer picture of the line in the sand that separates the legal from the illegal, the beneficial from the detrimental to the society, the law-abiding from the criminal.

Hey, I'm not saying we never cross that line. I'm just saying we know where it is.

A bounty hunter may be paid his bounty not only for capturing criminals. Anybody and anything can have a price tag attached. I have caught criminals, found missing persons and located rare animals. I have retrieved items that were lost or stolen, and also some whose ownership was, to put it diplomatically, in dispute.

I don't do illegal stuff. At least not unless you pay very handsomely. The problem is that I am good at what I do. My name has started to be whispered in some circles. Circles that have so much wealth and power that trifles like ownership and law do not mean much. Circles that can pay a lot to keep my conscience busy counting bills and not nagging me about moral dilemmas.

But after careful consideration, a few months ago I have decided to slow down with the darker activities. Once you get in too deep, you open yourself to all sorts of influences and pressures, and if there is one thing that is absolutely non-negotiable to me it is my independence. Being known in some circles can be very profitable, but it can also be hazardous to your health if you suddenly decide to pull out.

Of course, "slowing down" meant that I had to take the damn job in the first place. Not only did the job sound simple and easy, it paid well. Extremely well. Once I had the money, I would be able to pick and choose my next assignments, and thus maintain my independence.

Maybe I should have realized that employers usually don't pay top dollars for easy jobs. That fact in itself should have caused a red alarm light to flash in my brain, together with warning bells and emergency klaxons. But the amount was high enough to drown any misgivings.

So, there I was, casing out the place. The house was perched on a hill by itself, which was good, but it was surrounded by a high wall with electrified fences and razor wire, which was not so good. Security was maintained by a full complement of guards and dogs, both those that would bark to set off the alert, and those with their vocal chords surgically removed, that would silently fall on you and rip your throat out while you were still wondering what the hell was going on.

The electronic defenses were awesome but they did not worry me too much. All the motion sensors, infrared and LLTV cameras, pressure pads, automated turrets and their like had to have some kind of control, otherwise they would kill the guards as they were patrolling.

It is amazing what a good-looking girl can get away with if she knows how and where to look for it. Especially when it comes to computers and electronics. You find yourself some socially awkward nerd with an IQ of 150, you bat your eyelashes at him a few times and he'll hack into any system in the world for you. Hell, I didn't even have to sleep with the geek that did it for me. It was enough to bring him the information on the system and he was completely consumed by the challenge until he managed to crack it. I even felt a bit jealous; he actually kind of ignored me while he was solving the problem. When later I gave him a nuzzle and a kiss as a reward, I must confess that a good part of it was for the sake of my own self-respect. In the end he added my characteristics to the database of "friendlies" in the estate's system so that the automated defenses would consider me a guard. He would eliminate all evidence in 24 hours, and by that time the job would be done.

I was waiting for nightfall, reviewing the disposition of the guards and making sure that their routine patrol areas had not changed. So far everything looked fine.

The sun dipped below the horizon and darkness started creeping in. Floodlights winked on at the target location, but that was expected. It would actually make my job easier, because strong light means very dark shadows. It also interferes with IR and image-intensifying goggles. I still had about two hours before I planned to start my infiltration attempt, so I relaxed a bit, watching the target's routine.

I usually expend a lot of effort in my planning, trying to cover every reasonable issue that may rear its ugly head. But Murphy's Law is a force of Nature, and nothing could have prepared me for what happened next.

I first became aware of the sound of turboprop engines closing in. I quickly checked my camouflage to make sure I was not visible from the air, and then scanned the sky to see where it was coming from. By that time the sky was dark and I could not see any navigation lights blinking. I turned from the target to allow my eyes to adjust to the darkness and tried to look at the part of the sky where the sound was coming from out of the corner of my eyes. It is a trick that you learn quickly, the human eye focuses better in the center of the field of view but it's more sensitive to light on the periphery.

I was still unable to see anything until I noticed a few stars blinking off and then reappearing. It was an entire freaking fleet of VTOL aircraft painted jet black and with no navigation lights whatsoever. Things were staring to get interesting.

The fleet of aircraft flew over the target and dropped what looked like parachutists. For a second I waited for the parachutes to open and then I realized that there were going to be none. The figures that jumped off the aircraft fell to the ground at high speed, and then simply picked themselves up and started the assault on the house. Things were definitely starting to get interesting.

In normal situations I would have quietly made myself scarce. But the people I was working for were not interested in excuses, only in results. It did not take much intelligence or imagination to realize that the gatecrashers were after the same thing that I was, and if they took it, I would have to track them down and recover it from them, which was at best problematic, besides probably requiring at least two to three weeks of searching, intelligence gathering and planning. I did not have two to three weeks.

I started moving towards the target. My original plan was blown out of the water, plan B was turned into a crater and plans C, D and E were merrily burning. I would have to wing this one. My best bet would be to intercept the intruders after they secured the house and then appropriate the object I was looking for.

The attackers were forcing their way into the house, while still holding off the estate guards by exchanging gunfire. This worked in my favor since everybody's attention would be focused on the shooting and the noise would allow me to approach quickly. I am able to move very silently, but it slows me down. I created a force disk and hopped onto it, crouching, guiding it as it glided silently less than a foot off the ground towards the target.

As I approached the house I adjusted my course to get from behind the attackers guarding the positions they've conquered at the entrance to the house. It meant being vulnerable to the streams of bullets that the estate guards were sending their way, but that was a risk I had to take, otherwise they would see me coming and the risk would have been a lot greater.

Now I want to make it clear that I have no compunction against killing someone that wants to harm me, but I do try to avoid cold blooded murder. This usually complicates things for me, as you can imagine, since it is a lot easier to simply slit a guy's throat than to try and disable him without killing him. This time, however, luck was with me. As I approached, one of the attackers was hit by a stream of 20 mm Vulcan rounds from a turret, literally blowing him to pieces. I half expected him to disintegrate into a red mist, but instead I was surprised to see bits and pieces fly all over the place, some of them dropping to the ground around me with no flesh or blood on them. The attackers were robots.

I smiled to myself and created an elliptic blade in each hand. I jumped off the disk, pushing it hard with my feet towards two of the robots that stood together, their backs to me, at the same time narrowing the disk's leading edge to a sharpness beyond any razor. As I fell to the ground and rolled, the disk flew towards them and through them, slicing through arms and torsos as if they weren't there. I released control over the disk, now unnecessary, and it vanished.

In the same movement I sprang up from my roll and came into range of several more of the robots. A quick succession of slashes turned them into scrap. Eliminating the remainder of the opposition, I crouched at the corner of the house, for the moment out of sight from the other invaders, guards and turrets. In the free-for-all that was developing, it mattered little if the automated systems classified you as "friendly". The door was a few feet away, but if I tried to reach it everybody would be able to see me. I could create a shielding disk that would keep me safe from bullets and cannon rounds, but I would lose the element of surprise while still being heavily outnumbered.

If you can't go through the door, just make one for yourself. One horizontal and one vertical slash with both hands and a kick at that section of the wall, and I was crawling through the opening I just made. The sound of falling masonry was loud, but not uncommon in the midst of the firefight that still raged outside.

I was in the house, in a dark room. I moved to the door and listened first to make sure nothing waited beyond it. I snuck through the door and across the darkened corridor. Gently opening the door at its end, I saw the entrance hallway. This would be a good place for an ambush.

Almost on cue, a guy – quite obviously a living person – appeared carrying a briefcase, four robots flanking him. They walked quickly towards the exit. The guy had some kind of body armor and a helmet or mask on his face. Four vertical slits were placed where his mouth would be, one eye in the shadows, the other one visible, scanning his surroundings.

I allowed them to pass and burst through the door behind them, cutting down all four guardian robots in two quick slashes. I released the blade in my right hand and created a small disk instead with the idea of smashing the guy with the flat of the disk and hopefully knocking him out. To my great surprise, my arm was still moving in an arc towards the place where his head was a split second before when I realized that he was not there any more, and that moreover his left foot was approaching my head with unpleasant speed.

More by instinct than by design I managed to create a disk-like shield that intercepted his kick, but I was far from being safe. One-eye was already following up on the kick with a series of strikes and for a couple of seconds I was completely on the defensive, dodging and blocking by pure instinct, realizing that it was only a question of moments before one of his attacks would go through my defenses.

I sprang back to gain a second or two and to collect myself. One-eye did not follow me, but stopped and observed me malevolently.

"Well, if this isn't a surprise. Match, isn't it? I heard about you. Are you after this?" he said, lifting the briefcase slightly.

I just nodded, observing his posture and looking for an opening.

"I think I know who sent you. You can tell them that I have it. I don't think they'll be too harsh on you knowing who you were against."

"No deal."

"You are lucky I am in a hurry" he said in a matter-of-fact voice. He sprang at me and forced me back through the sheer viciousness of his attack. "You may even live through the night."

As he said it, he swung the briefcase and threw it in the air. I am ashamed to admit it, but I reacted like a complete novice, following the briefcase with my eye for a split second, time enough for him to smash a fist in my belly, doubling me over, breath whooshing out of my lungs. And just in case I thought the pain could not get any worse, he then finished me by using my head as a football, since I was still conveniently bent forward trying to breathe. Lights exploded in my head as I flew backwards. He caught the briefcase as it fell down, laughed and left the house.

I shook my head to clear the dizziness and staggered after him, gulping for air. I went through the door without checking first if he or someone else might be waiting outside, which just shows you the state he left me in. As I leaned on the door frame, the sparks slowly clearing from my eyes, my left hand tenderly holding my belly, I saw him about a dozen feet ahead of me, standing still, his back to me, with the few robots that remained outside gathering around him.

Fuck.

Now I don't usually swear. You'd noticed that I didn't do it even while One-eye was kicking the living daylights out of me. But when I saw the five figures that stood in front of him, I couldn't help myself.

Three of the newcomers were standing, one of them huge, metal glinting all over him. Two female figures were hovering on the flanks. In the darkness I could see plainly that the eyes of the one on the left were blazing white while the other one's were glowing green.

Freaking superheroes.

I hate superheroes. They meddle in my business and undercut my prices. I mean, how can an honest bounty hunter make a living when these guys provide a similar service for free?

I know, I know, "honest bounty hunter" is a candidate for oxymoron of the year, right there with "military intelligence". But you catch my drift. Not to say that superheroes usually take a dim outlook towards people living in the grey zone between law and crime, like myself. And there were five of them.

"End of the line, Slade!" said a short but lithe youth, apparently the leader. I couldn't see well in the darkness, but his voice sounded quite young. "You are going down!"

I mentally kicked myself. Slade? I should have known – the mask, the single eye. He was bad news. Very bad news. At least I could find some consolation in the fact that I lasted a full ten seconds against him.

Slade and his robots charged the superheroes. The leader stood his ground and received Slade's attack willingly, while the others scattered in what was obviously in accordance to a well-established combat manoeuver. The girls hovered high, providing ranged support against Slade's robots. The big, hulking guy transformed his arm into a cannon and let loose. The smallest one suddenly grew into a T-rex, roaring while he stepped on and squashed one of the robots.

There were no allies for me in this fight, so I remained leaning on the door frame, studying the opponents. If I could quickly spot some weaknesses I could have a chance of at least getting out of there in one piece, and maybe even finishing my mission successfully.

All five concentrated on Slade, brushing off his robots almost as if they were nothing more than nuisances. It was impressive work. They were fighting well together. But against Slade, it looked like it was not good enough.

Slade dodged and weaved among cannon bolts and green beams, avoided large objects thrown at him through some kind of telekinesis and managed to land a couple of disabling strikes on the small guy when he turned into a gorilla and tried to engage Slade in hand-to hand combat. His main preoccupation seemed to be the leader. Whoever it was, he had a fantastic grasp of martial arts and was able to hold very well against Slade. On the other hand, Slade also had to divide his attention among the other attackers, so he couldn't concentrate completely on his most dangerous foe.

All this lasted less than half a minute, but it was enough for me to recover my breath and clear my head completely. My left cheekbone still burned and my belly was tender, but it would not impair me. I was looking for Slade to make a small opening so that I could rush in and snatch the briefcase.

Something resembling a large black claw picked up three robots, as if it was picking flowers in a meadow, and tossed them almost contemptuously aside. The problem was that the "aside" was almost directly at me. I ducked as the three trashcans clanged into the wall. Two of them rose again, but one was left lying, sparks coursing over its body.

The two robots saw nothing better to do than to attack me. I created an elliptic blade in my right hand and a disk in my left hand. I stabbed with the blade and threw the disk. It took less than a second. It made me feel better.

"Screw this!" I said, angry, as I waded in. I walked towards Slade, any robot unfortunate enough to be in my way falling down in several large chunks around me.

"Give me that!" I told Slade, as I aimed the flat of my left-hand blade towards his head. He ducked, at the same time blocking a kick from the leader of the superheroes. Slade's eye glanced at me, annoyed.

"Stay out of this, Little Red Riding Hood. I already spared your life tonight. I won't do it again."

As I mentioned before, there are few things that I hate more than being called Little Red Riding Hood. I felt blood rising to my face and a red mist started clouding my eyes. I took hold of my anger and turned it into a cold fury, allowing it to suffuse me completely. My senses sharpened, I felt light like a feather. I advanced on Slade.

"Never, ever call me that again." I said, as he lifted his staff to block. I swiped my right arm, the force blade cutting off the staff's upper half. With the return swipe I cut off the bottom half. Slade was left holding a stick that protruded not more than half an inch above and below his fists. I did not break my stride, but launched a punch with my left hand, a disk glowing flat against the front of my fist. Slade managed to duck, feinted right and started a roundhouse kick to my head.

I dropped down under his kick and my left leg scissored out, trying to sweep Slade's leg off the ground. He jumped up, somersaulting both over my leg and over the staff that the superhero leader was swinging at him. He fell back and concentrated on the superheroes, dodging several beams and bolts. I crept closer, waiting to catch him in an awkward moment. With five other attackers that he had to deal with, I didn't have to wait for long.

A car encased in some kind of black mist flew at him. He ducked and rolled beneath it, into the path of a shower of green bolts. He jumped up and avoided them, just as a green gorilla tried to smash him into the ground. Slade executed a perfect, flowing Kotegaeshi, throwing the gorilla into the path of a blue bolt that was sizzling his way. But he overbalanced slightly doing so, and I saw my chance.

I swung quickly and the blade sheared off the briefcase's handle. Slade was too busy avoiding missiles and bolts. I quickly picked up the briefcase and created a flying disk, hopping onto it.

"Have fun with you friends!" I said as a farewell and glided off into the darkness as quickly as I dared.