Sleepers

Codename: Gabriel
Sex: Male
Ethnicity: White
Height: 5'10"
Weight: 13 stone
Eye color: blue
Hair: Brown
Weapon choice: thin bladed balanced knife. 1.1mil draganov sniper rifle.
Background: Gabriels parents were killed when he was five, somehow Gabriel managed to escape and survive on his own. by the time he was 8 he was taken in by an ex miltary commander he was trained in every weapon and in 7 combat forms, when he was 15 he ran away and dissapeared he learnt how to blend in and become forgettable, he began to take on bounties in america and rusia, by the time he was 21 he had killed 73 people.

 

Silpheed smiled he loved parties and parties loved him. He had been to Sydney once or twice before. A date with Celestial's Nigel.
Silpheed smiled, but he wondered what would the Agency think about this. Silpheed decided on not calling him.
Silpheed had many of ways of getting a plane ticket. Silpheed placed a blond wig on his head and dressed up nicely.
"Who's pretty then I?" Silpheed asked the mirror.
Silpheed laughed and then walked out the door.
It was a very long flight and he felt very stiff. He hated being stiff. Now he had to fine Slick's birthday party and serve them delicious cocktails.
"Now what would Slick like at his birthday party," Silpheed said.
It appears Slick is turning fifty and wants to see a beautiful pin up girls as drink severs.
No problem there either.
"I am so wicked," Silpheed said with a smile, "I'll make sure I am the most beautiful one of them all...I'm like dear old Snow White just not as hideous."

 

Place: Moscow
Time: 21:32
Identity: Gabriel

Ivan Derivich, Finance minister of Russia was walking to the joint council meeting, he had just stepped out of his limo with his 2 man escort and joined the busy bustle of the evening street towards the council chambers.

it was snowing gently, Ivan brushed the snow from his eyebrows and sighed as he got jostled by the crowds. He orderd his escort in front of him to clear a path.

Ivan stopped rock still, his breifcase dropped from limp fingers and the glint in his eyes flickerd and died. The escort turned round in time to see the minister fall face down onto the ground, they ran to him and checked his pulse, as he touched his neck blood dripped slowly out of a thin stabwound in the back of the neck severing the spine.

Gabriel carried on walking wiping the knife on the ministers hankerchief, he threw the hankerchief into a workers brasier. and alowed himself a small smile before dissapearing into the crowds once again his job done.

 

Valkyrie Aeronautics

Knives returned to his room after a nice quiet lunch. He grabbed himself another beer and sat down to watch some television. After awhile, he began to notice something a miss with his set. When he went over to fiddle with it, he found a note waiting for him.

GREETINGS:

Thank you for applying to Valkyrie Aeronautics, after careful consideration we are proud to welcome you aboard. To get you fully acquainted with your job we would like you to visit Ronald Fulmer in Washington D.C. Meet him and his family at the National Zoo and acquaint him with your sharp wit. Do not speak with his family however. Once you have completed this task, you will be compensated with the sum of $100,000.

Here at Valkyrie Aeronautics, the sky isn’t the limit. Welcome again.

VA::cc

Knives put the note down, and immediately began searching the room. When he checked the closet he found the dead body had been removed, but the knives had been cleaned and neatly ordered on the floor. He immediately went to the compartment. Instead of finding a writhing body, he found a note that simply read: get to work.

 

Location: France
Time: 1305

Knives looked over the first note again in his hand and then turned towards the empty closet with surprise on his face.

"....well, at least they cleaned up", he chuckled.

"Too bad I can't scare the cleaning lady anymore..."

Knives pulled out the suitcase that was in the closet where the dead body used to be and unzipped it. Inside were an assortment of wallets and glasses that he'd 'collected' from his various marks. He took a worn brown wallet from inside his coat pocket and traded it for a nice black one. He replaced his gold-framed aviators with a pair of silver-framed closed the suitcase and threw it back in the closet.

Knives then walked into the kitchen and turned on the gas to the two stoves and after that he checked if the revolver was still set up to go off when the door was forced open. When he made sure it was set he walked over to the balcony and opened the glass doors.

Closing them behind him he looked out towards his right at large potted plant. He held on to the edge of the railing as he hopped over and down to the balcony on the floor beneath him and entered an apartment identical to his. Knives could he someone taking a shower in the nearest bathroom and so he went over to the dresser with the phone and called the hotel management. A female receptionist picked up the phone.

"Bonjour", she greeted.

"Bonjour. English?", Knives asked.

"Yes"

"Yes, I do believe I smell gas coming from the 13th floor and I was wondering if someone could check on it. I think it's room 407."

"Yes sir", she replied.

"Merci", Knives said before he hung up. Just before he got to the door to leave he saw an unopened pack of cigarettes and took them. He exited the room and took the elevator to the lobby and exited the hotel.

Knives had just crossed the street when an explosion and flames could be heard and seen from room 407 of the 13th floor.

He only smiled and lit a fresh cigarette.

 

Silpheed was sitting in the clients lap. Slick was wooing and charming him as he did with all the girls.
"You're the cutest girl you know that," Slick said.
"Oh, stop it I just look like the other girls," Silpheed said.
"Something in your eyes says you're innocent,"
"If you only knew me,"
"Why don't you get me a drink,"
Silpheed smiled.
"Of course dear,"
Silpheed walked into the kitchen and he spotted the weakest link. One who would crack under pressure.
"Slick wants some fruit punch," Silpheed said, "I'm going out for some fresh air."
Silpheed walked out of the club and began to count.
"10, 10 1/2, 9, 9 1/2, 8, 8 1/2," Silpheed smiled as he got farther and farther, "Stacy should be arriving with the drink right about now, knowing slick he will touch her, and she will touch him right about now."
Silpheed pulled the string and the needle went inside slicks shoulder. The poison would quickly enter the blood stream instantly killing Slick.
"They must understand I wouldn't spike Slick's drink to risky," Silpheed said, "To easy for the police to find me."
Silpheed walked off pretty happy with himself. Silpheed took off his disguise and placed on another disguise.

 

Location: Chicago
Time: 0500

Fox gets off of the helicopter that she hired to take her to Chicagp. Afterall, she couldn't get a sniper rifle through the airport. It lands a little outside of the city. Her gun is in a briefcase. While walking down, the dark deserted street, she opens the manhole and enters the sewer. Looking over the map that she paid for, she walks until she finds a manhole that is far away, but still has a line of sight to the museum. She finds one that is about five hundred yards away. She sits there and waits until its three in the afternoon. She opens the manhole, just enough for her gun to fit through. There he is. A man in a black three piece suite. He looks at his watch as if waiting for something.

3....she stops breathing....

2...she lines up the shot and waits for a clear shot

1....she pulls the trigger....

The back of the man's head explodes. She quickly shuts the manhole and runs back to the one, that she entered the sewers. She waits until nighfall and then exits the sewer. On the outskirts of the city, the helicopter is waiting for her. She takes off, unseen.

 

Valkyrie Aeronautics

Vee sat in her flat, curtains drawn, private and cozy. She enjoyed the time she spent in Germany, allowing herself time to think of other things. As she lounged she heard a sharp rapping on her window. After looking through the crack in the curtains she opened them a bit and saw a note stuck to her window.

GREETINGS:

Thank you for applying to Valkyrie Aeronautics, after careful consideration we are proud to welcome you aboard. To get you fully acquainted with your job we would like you to visit Hiro Chow in Hong Kong. Meet him at the Street Markets and recommend him a choice of soup. Once you have completed this task, you will be compensated with the sum of $100,000.

Here at Valkyrie Aeronautics, the sky isn’t the limit. Welcome again.

PS: we will clean up the window, free of charge.

VA::cc

Vee looked outside again, but couldn't spy anything to tip her off as to where the note came from or who put it there.

 

The BBS

Donut sat at table outside the little cafe, enjoying the nice New Hampshire weather. His mind was free of thought, and he happily sipped his lemonade. From out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone coming up on him. He immediately became abrasive but made no move. The person was making odd moments, and finally Donut turned to see who it was. The person was a mime, entertaining the few patrons around outside the cafe. She made her way over to Donut and popped her hands open in front of him. There was a note written across her palms.

Sir:

We here at Big Birthday Surplus are excited to offer you an exclusive opportunity. Your immediate presence in Cairo is required for the birthday of: Amisi Mubarak. The party throwers are in need of someone who can make a person disappear into a casket. You can find the party at Al-Azhar Park. You will be handsomely rewarded in the sum of $125,000 upon completion of the job.

Thank you again for applying to Big Birthday Surplus and welcome aboard!

BBS::aa

Donut stood up and leaned closed to the mime. "Where did this come from?"
The mime shrugged, put her hands behind her back and brought them out front again. The note was gone and she just made a money sign with her fingers before carrying onto the next table of patrons.

 

Location: Al-Azhar Park, Cairo, Egypt.
Time: 1400
Codename: Donut

Donut had never been happy with his bearded man outfit, it always left a terrible itch on his face. Nothing is gained without sacrifice. He was leaning against a tree in Al-Azhar park drinking, something. It wasn't whiskey, even a kid could tell it was some volatile mix. He had on a mix of worn and torn clothes dirty from when he was rolling in the dirt earlier. He'd had a fake tan all over and had dark brown contacts. Blending in was too easy.

The sun was beating down hard and the tree did not offer adequate shade. Inside his disguise Donut was sweating, all the better to pull off the job. He grunted while smiling at an odd couple, the man pulled his girlfriend closer to him and gave Donut a condescending look, the look snobby businessmen give to homeless people. He smiled when he realized how good the outfit was.

After another hour of grunting curses in the native language at passersby and seemingly staggering aimlessly around the area, the target arrived. Donut composed himself a bit and resisted the temptation to laugh. He watched as a four armed bodyguards with earpieces got out and opened the rear door of a long limosine. Another bodyguard, wearing shades, stepped out, looking around before sticking his head back in to confirm safety. Amisi Mubarak slowly stepped out and positioned himself in between all his guards, beside him was the one with the shades who promptly pulled out an umbrella to shade his employer.

The group loitered for a bit before a man cam e from the opposite end of the park waving and shouting "Amisi my brother!". Lets get this party started As the shouting man got closer to Amisi the group moved towards him, meeting him a few dozen feet away from the limo.

Donut made his move. He began to stagger, silently, not attracting too much attention to himself. As he approached the group one of the guards saw him and took very little notice as Donut fell to the ground. He even smiled a bit before getting his eyes back on something worthy of his time. Donut got up and swayed. He moved closer to the group and eventually one of the guards told him to back off. This attracted the attention of the guard with the shades, who passed his umbrella to a colleague and came towards Donut.

"Get lost old man!" he shouted. Donut grunted and fell into the arms of the man. The guard turned his head away smelling the stench of alcohol. This was the moment he was planning for. As the guard turned his head Donut slipped a small button shaped object out of his pocket into his left hand. He pressed it firmly before gently dropping it in th guard's pocket.

"Filth! Get away from here!" He puched Donut violently and actually managed to sprain his ankle. As Donut got up he was hobbling for real. Unhappy about the ankle but pleased as he walked away.

He didn't go far as he could still see his target in the conversing. When he was done, the group turned around and proceded to the limo. Donut watched Amisi get in, followed by his personal guard and then the others. He reached into his pocket for a small transmitter and pressed it. The car buckled in a giant ball of flames and creaking metal. Donut smiled at his ingenuity. It actually destroyed the whole car. He stood for a bit watching people run in fear then stop to wathc as one guard who was furthest from the blast crawled out of the wreckage and die on the street.

Donut had decided he would go to Italy while he was in the area, he'd always wanted to go there. He was out of Cairo in 20 minutes, on a ferry to Sicily in a new disguise, he thought it was time to get rid of the beard and the sweat on his clothes could be scanned. He'd put all the eveidence in a plastic full of rocks and dropped it in the Mediterranean.

 

Location: Boston, Ma
Time: 0800
Operative: Cobalt

Cobalt stood in the arrival terminal of Logan international Airport, his bag in hand. It had been a pleasant flight, and he was nicely relaxed, especially considering it was a very spur of the moment one. Silently musing over the note he smiled. The old bump-and-slip method was an old trick in the assassin world, but still very effective. And Cobalt knew the first rule of this: NEVER look at your sheet right there. He'd waited a good while, and made a small show of reading the paper while at a phone booth like it was a telephone number.

Catching a Taxi, he sat back and relaxed with a cup of coffee from the airport food terminal he sat back and relaxed while the cab made it's way through the rush hour traffic. Eventually, Cobalt could see Fenway Park, home of the Red Sox, in the morning glow of the sunrise.

Getting out and paying the taxi fee, Cobalt casually strolled around the park. He was wearing a black knit shirt that said J-KAT General Contractors and dark bluejeans. His "tool bag" he had brought with him from the airport had an assortment of tools and measuring devices, as well as a few other nasty surprises concealed deep within. He rarely was asked questions when checking his luggage, and even if he was, he knew a million and half ways to re-supply himself in the field.

His walk around completed, Cobalt had figured out about a half dozen ways to gain entry to the park, even with the place closed for the season. The simplest one was a back entry for the off-season grounds keepers to use. It had been propped open for the skeleton crew to come in and out from. There was only a single security guard, tired looking and inobservant. He spared only the briefest glance at Cobalt's shirt before waving him through the back door.

Walking through the catacombs behind the public area, Cobalt scanned the occasional faces he passed. He hadn't been given a photo or any other information as he normally required before taking a job, but it didn't matter. He could feel gears turning; big gears. He had a good feeling that the mark would present itself.

Coming up into the area seating concourse itself, he continued his way around the bowl, stopping to "measure" various objects and even photograph others. A good contractor always kept good records. A good assassin kept even better ones.

As he finished calculating the height and distance between two sets of steel rafters (making the mental calculations as to how well he could jump that distance if needed) he noticed a middle-aged man in a trimmed, pin-striped business suit standing at the top of a staircase that led down to the front row seats by the visitors dugout. The man turned, startled when he heard Cobalt approach.

"Can I help you?" He asked, authoritatively.
"I might ask you the same question." Cobalt punted back. "I'm with the renovation contractors office. Who're you?" Cobalt was testing him, trying to see how he took the ball and ran with it.
"Oh! Uh...I'm ..we're doing some planning for possible advertising at the park for next season."
Bad cover story. That was clue one.

"Oh, okay. Sorry about that. Just didn't recognize you from the regular faces here."

"Yeah, yeah. It's okay. I'm kind of here unannounced."
Short term plans, just like Cobalt himself. Clue number two.

The two men stood side by side in awkward silence for quite a few minutes, watching the morning light over the ball field. It had rained the night before and the concrete by the steps was slick, but the clouds had blown away leaving nothing but beautiful New England sky to shine like a gem overhead.

"Pretty, isn't it?" Cobalt said, finally.
"Yeah, sure is." The man agreed, then turned and stuck out his hand.
"Sorry about before. I'm Andrew Havok."
Cobalt shook the mans hand, a red alert shinning in his head.
"Robert Garland." Cobalt lied rather convincingly. Then with a cruel smile he gripped Havoks hand even tighter and gave it a quick twist, causing him to release his grip and come off balance. The stairs did the rest for him.

Havok tumbled down the stairs hard and at a bad angle. He came to stop against the wall at the base of the stairs, Cobalt calmly following him down.

"You alright there?" Cobalt inquired in a most uncaring tone. "That was qite a fall."

"Ugghh...why?!" Havok moaned plaintively. His left arm was coked at a funny angle, and it had a bend in it where there wasn't a joint before. Reaching down, Cobalt planted a shot on the mans shoulder blade, and took hold of his tie, where his actions wouldn't leave fingerprints or bruises.

"Why, because it's the favorite American pass-time." Cobalt quipped. He wrenched up oh the handful of neckwear and yanked up hard in the direction of his shoe. There was a pop; not very loud or noticeable but still distinct. Havok eyes went wide for a split second and his body went limp.

Looking up, Cobalt spotted a groundskeeper down further on the concourse, sweeping the floor with a push broom. He looked completely unaware of the recent events that had occurred under his nose.

"Hey!" Cobalt yelled, waving the groundskeeper down. "Hey! Get over here! There's been a accident. We need an ambulance!"

The young man dropped his broom and came running, almost falling on the same wet spot Havok had "slipped" on himself.

"What happened?" He asked, panicked looking at the crumpled mess on the ground.

"He fell down those steps. We need help, I'm afraid to move him. I think he's unconscious." Cobalt blubbered, faking fear and confusion.

"Oh man...oh man." The man gibbered, frozen to the spot. "What do we do?"

Cobalt gripped the young man firmly by the shoulder. "I'll wait here. You go call 911. I don't have my cell phone with me. C'mon! Hurry, go!" He pushed the man swiftly into action. He ran off to find a phone a ways away. The grounds keeper apparently didn't have one of his own either. Not that it would have mattered. There would have been plenty of other ways to make him run off.

As soon as the groundskeeper had gone out of line of sight, Cobalt quickly checked the body. No breathing, no pulse. Good. He jumped over the backstop and onto the roof of the visitors dugout that butted up against it. From there, it was only a fast slip back into the tunnels behind it and the service ways that led out. By the time he'd ditched his disguise and made it back onto the streets he could here the sound of ambulance sirens approaching the park.

His contractor hadn't left a phone number or dead drop location for proof of demise, but it was okay. He'd let the media take care of it for him.

With that, he headed off to find a taxi and perhaps a nice hotel by the harbor to enjoy his stay in.

 

Place: London (Airport-Train)
Time: Early Morning
Identity: Mineko

Her hair was now a jet black, her eyebrows came along with the deal. Her eyes were now a medium grey, and her skin had been tanned just enough to make her skin appear much darker then it really was. She wore light makeup, heavy around the eyes, making her appear a little younger then she really was, along with a grey dress suit and nylons. She quickly went through the London airport, stopping in front, and waving down the taxi. Her movements were subtle, yet her steps demanded respect.

She quickly got into the taxi, she gave him a nod as he pulled out.

“Train station.” She said, her accent had been slightly changed, now sounding much like she’d grew up in London for a lifetime.

It was only minutes before she arrived at the station, and quickly walked off after paying the man. She ran into the station and down the steps, barely making it in time on the train. She nodded at the gentleman, handing him her ticket. She got into her compartment as the train waited the last few minutes for any other late passengers. She sighed and relaxed for the first time since she had left Germany.

 

Place: London (Train)
Time: Early Morning
Identity: Kefreon

Kefreon struggled with his suitcase. He had no idea why he had decided to get a souvenir for Mariyo, but whatever reason he found himself in a tight schedule. The train was almost at it, when he came panting and huffing like a typical, irresponsible teenager.

"Halt!"

He yelled to the conductor, who made a grim face and stopped the driver.

"Quick!"

He yelled to Kefreon who jumped in, the suitcase thrown to the first cabin he saw empty. He slipped to a seat by the cabin, and then took a few deep breaths before acclimatizing to the situation. He looked to his side, and found a Japanese face. He peered harder at the woman. The woman was, definitely familiar.

"Are you the lady from Russia?"

He asked meekly, like a mouse squeaking.

 

Her eyes fluttered, and her hand nonchalantly sat on her leg, right below the handgun she kept on her hip. The smile stayed on her face as she looked at the boy. He was definitely the kid she had dealt with in Russia, and that wasn’t what she wanted. She knew what she would have to do if this went any further. She had been spotted, whether it was just a kid or not.

“I’m sorry, you must be mistaken young man.” She said with a nod. “What brings you on a train on a fine day like this? Not in trouble I hope.” She nodded towards the door where she had heard the conductor’s words.

He shrugged and apologetically looked over to the cabin.

"Sorry, I guess I'm seeing things."

He then sighed, stretching him arms out.

"Let's say; I have a bad luck."

She relaxed a little, but kept her hand on her thigh.

“I see, are you suppose to be here, young man? Get in trouble with your mates?” she asked with a smile, “Travel… much?”

 

Kefreon grinned and then rubbed his knuckles. He didn't care about letting out his identity - he didn't have one anyway.

"I'm an orphan, see. I get kicked around the world a lot. Trying to get a good life, but life's a bad roller coaster. Pretty bad."

He spoke like a tired out teenager, when he really wasn't. He was in a really good mood. Just that the woman's eerie smile made him jumpy.

"Life tends to get that way, but if you continue to do your best, it won’t always be like that. I’m sorry to hear about your situation."
She paused and looked out the window. The train was finally on it’s way.

"What’s your name young man?"

Kefreon bopped out a small pack of peanuts from his backpack, and said cheerily:
"Kefreon. You can call me any pet name you like, though. Being called the same name is kind of...boring."

He chuckled, and then offered the lady the peanuts.

"You?"

She offered him a chuckle, "I think I like Kefreon just fine. You may call me Mineko."

Kefreon shook the pack of peanuts once more, reminding her of his offer, and Mineko immediately shook her head.

"No thanks."

Kefreon nodded, and took the peanuts back.

"Well, that's a dandy name...err, Miss. Mineko? Ha, it actually sounds like faulty Manga. No offense."

He took in some of the peanuts, and then pulled out a small cigar from his pocket. He knew smoking was bad omen for him, but he had no more patience. He lit the cigar, and he couldn't help think about the lady in Russia.

"Well, I was in Russia recently...and I met this lady in a train. Somehow, you remind me of her."

Kefreon grinned, the cigar tucked in his mouth.

"You are probably her age too."

Her eyes stopped at the cigar, and she almost looked annoyed.

"I see, Russia isn’t so great this time of year. It’s springs I’ve heard are amazing though."
She managed to keep the smile up, "I get that a lot, I’ve just got that face… I’m sorry, but how old do you think I am?" she grinned. Her hand sliding lower.

"Mid 30s?"

Kefreon had noticed the disturbance upon his cigar and pulled it out.

"I'm sorry...I should've asked. You don't mind me smoking, right?"

A laugh escaped her lips, "Close enough." She shook her head, "I don’t mind young man, but it is a bad habit, and you’re so young. Don’t want to taint those youthful lungs of yours."

Kefreon laughed and extinguished the cigar, and then crushed it under his foot.

"The Sister in the church said, I should listen to elders."

He murmured with a wink.

 

Location: Miami, Ash's home

The flame touches the weed carefully pacted into the bong. Ash deeply inhales and then leans back on the couch in her bedroom. An actractive long haired man lays face down on the floor, wearing a lovely corset. Two mostly naked women lay cuddled together on her bed. Looking up at the ceiling, Ash holds her breath. Letting her body absorb the drugs smoke.

........BBS huh? This should be interesting. I just hope they keep paying me well........

Around the room, posters of bands hang on the wall. Soundgarden, Three Days Grace, Story of the Year, and Rage Against the Machine to name a few. The book shelf is filled with history books, fantays stories and a couple of philosophy books writen by Nietzsche. Smoke fills the air, as her mouth opens. Looking down at the bong, she says "Edward always seems to have the bets s***." The flame touchs the weed once more, as the smoke enters her lungs.

 

“I’m not that much older then you young man.” She said with a wink, emphasizing the ‘that’. The train came to a sudden stop, and she quickly grabbed her belongings, as little as there were.

“I get off at Cardiff… you?” she asked, as she waited at the door.

Kefreon looked at his ticket and then nodded.

"Sweet, I get off here too! This day seems to be an awful lot of good omen."

He chuckled, and then pulled out his suitcase from the cabin, following the lady.

"Well, this would seem like a good stop."

She smiled as she got out from the train. She stealthily slid the gun at a good reaching point and let him get ahead of her as they came from the train station. He was a dangerous young man. If not only because she had been seen and even recognized. She shouldn’t have let it happen… and what were the chances they would have met like this, twice? Was he following her? She didn’t like the facts that hit her head on.

“Lunch sounds good, doesn’t it Kefreon?”

"Err...yeah, but I wouldn't like a favor. So yeah, only if the price isn't too high."

He said, leading the lady out of the train and towards the food court.

“Of course not, something simple.”

She took aim at the back of his head, just as his foot hit the curb, sending him forward. The bullet hit his shoulder, giving her barely enough time to react, as the gun slid back into the holster. She fell forward, and screamed, her heel broke from the reaction.

 

Kefreon was thinking about getting back to home, when a sudden pain cut into his shoulder blade. He didn't have the time to react as the lady behind him screeched and fell to help him, perhaps. He didn't find the pain too bad - well, probably because he was taught not to scream when shot. He only felt his muscles churning, the rotting flesh leaving an irate expression on his face. He reflexively reached for his needle, willing to throw it behind to get the shooter - but he didn't want to reveal himself. His hand came back from his pockets and instead, he fell on his knees. He had to make sure the woman didn't scream for help.

"God."

He choked out a reply, keeping his consciousness. No one seemed to notice the blood spurt from his shoulder, not yet.

"Let's...get out of here. Someone...must be aiming for u-us."

He said meekly, and his hand expertly grabbed the woman's. She feigned a blush as she tossed her broken heels off, and held onto the boy tightly. The fear erupted from her, while he mind stayed with that sly feeling.

"Let’s get you to a bathroom."

She said in a low tone. Kefreon nodded, and tried getting up without too much strain on his back. His head hadn't left him yet, and he could still breathe without too much struggle, the bathroom hovered in front of him after a random walk with the lady, not knowing where she took him. For a moment, he suspected the lady, but didn't have the nerve to test her.

"Later, if I survive."

He told himself, pushing the door open. He fell forward, his jaw against the tiled floor.

 

She helped him up and sat him against the wall of one of the stalls. She took a piece of clothing from her satchel, and wet it. She tore off part of his short, using a knife to help and quickly pat his wound down, a few winces came from him as she bandaged it up. She couldn’t place why she hadn’t killed him yet. Maybe it was the fact her fingerprints would be all over him. Maybe she needed him to survive for that fact. Maybe… it was something else. She sighed noiselessly. She was really hating how this situation was pulling together. It was all her fault, making so many mistakes. She’d have to become stricter with her actions after this.

Her eyes went to her watch, she would be late for her meeting if she didn’t hurry, though that was the least of her worries right now.

“You’ll need to go the hospital.” She muttered.

As though afraid of the hospital, Kefreon shook his head.

"You go on...I'll find a way out. You're...probably due someplace anyway."

She looked at him, worry filled her face. She actually felt bad.

“Do you have a cellphone?”

Kefreon bit his lower lip, and reluctantly replied:
"Yeah...but I'll be fine, seriously. Y-you...can go."

She lowered herself to him and looked him square in the eye, “Do you have a cellphone Kefreon?”

Kefreon frowned, as though he was really refraining from it.

"Yeah. My breast pocket."

She slid the phone from his pocket, and quickly went to the settings, getting his number. She memorized it, and slid it back.

“You take care, I have to go now.” She took a few bills from her pocket and slid them into his hand.

"Bye." she muttered before she ran from the building, barefoot.

 

Kefreon watched the woman leave. He knew he had to make use of the consciousness he had retained, and quickly ran to a capsule. He needed to get rid of the blood, people were going to come in the washroom anytime now. He first unwrapped the cloth the woman tied. He then swiftly pulled out his needle and plucked it into his wound unfeelingly. Remembering how his master had taught him dealing with a gunshot wound, he pulled out the bullet.

"Good needle weedle."

He thought to himself as he flushed the cloth, and then ran to the sink. He took heaps of water in his hand, making it fall on the floor. He had blocked the door with his foot and someone was banging it. Until the water had drained away, he kept his foot there. He then ripped off his shirt and threw it in the flush, and then washed his wound, the pain almost killing him. He quickly unblocked the door, and got in the bathroom capsule.

"Crazy men, block doors."

Someone grumbled as Kefreon flushed the shirt, and then felt his wound. It wasn't deep, his sheer luck. He took the chance and ran out of the capsule, and towards the window. Unfolding the blinds, he feverishly unlocked the window with one of his needles and then jumped out. The pane slit a part of his back, but only a little. Half naked, he dashed out of the place and towards a small apartment. The owner was seemingly outside, doing her yard. He tiptoed past the woman, and into her bushes. He knew he could be easily noticed, unless he distracted her. He threw a stone towards her minivan at which she, flustering, headed towards it. Taking the chance, he ran inside and to a bedroom. His luck was with him, and no one was there. Relieved, he got in a bathroom and then locked it. He needed shower clothes, and first aid. And apparently he had it.

 

Silpheed caressed the bulky neck of his victim. The man was sitting quietly in his chair, just like Silpheed wanted him to do.
"You're crazy...."
Silpheed put his fingers on his lips.
"Hush now we don't need words," Silpheed said, "Just go to sleep."
Silpheed smiled as he looked at the man.
"One question," the man said.
"All right, make it quick I have had a lot of stress," Silpheed said.
"Why me?"
"I don't know maybe you are hated or maybe you were loved and killing you is their expression of love," Silpheed smiled a naughty smile, "Now just go to sleep, be quiet now, no worries."
Silpheed placed the needle in the base of the neck and smiled. Silpheed left the room feeling a sense of satisfaction.

 

Place: London (Someone's house-Train)
Time: Noon
Identity: Kefreon

"Open the door otherwise I'm CALLING THE COPS!"

A woman screamed, and Kefreon was knocked out of his nap. He suddenly felt as though he didn't know where he was. The cold shower he had been really soothing to him, too much. He barely was awake as he dressed his wound properly, and probably dozed off when he finished. He looked down at his bandaged shoulder and quickly ran to the clothes hanging on the back of the door. The woman was fidgeting with the lock violently as he slipped on the shirt, the pain in his bandaged shoulder a distraction anyhow. He then quickly took off his pants and pulled on new ones, after he had shook them crazily to make sure they were safe and free of trackers, bombs and the like. He then quickly tore his own pants into two. Both parts were flushed, one after the other - after he removed the wallet, of course.

"Who are you, pervert!"

The woman yelled, and Kefreon almost snickered in his heart. He was done and quickly unlocked the bathroom window and jumped out. He fell in a small bush, but nothing to worry about. He relocked the window, and then jumped out of the bush. His steps were frantic, yet inaudible. He was soon past the woman's wrath, who possibly had unopened the door by now.

"Boy, tell me to avoid old ladies with fancy garbs."

He chuckled, wondering if the woman in the train was good omen or a bad one. He didn't believe in either; but it was the only thing worth her time.

"Well, can't say."

He finally told himself as he paused by the train station. He felt the wallet in his new pants and pulled it out. He had enough money to get out of Cardiff, maybe.

"I beg your pardon!"

He yelled to a man at the ticket booth who was talking to a few other men. His accent was British, and his attire complimented that.

"Yes sir?"

"Well, mate, I need a ticket to Newcastle."

He pronounced Newcastle with a bit of 'cashle', perhaps unknowingly. The man nodded and handed him the ticket in exchange for the money.

"Good day, lad."

The man commented, and Kefreon nodded. He made sure that when it was time for boarding, he was surrounded by young or old people as he sat in the train, and kept his hand at his needles.

 

Place: Hong Kong, China
Time: Lunch
Identity: None

She waited in the front of the window, and sat down comfortably for the first time since she had left Cardiff. Her informant had given her all the information she needed on her hit. Hiro Chow was a businessman, he owned various blocks of the street markets, and would be seen at each every other day, checking on his businesses. She knew his ritual by heart, and had stealthily walked through the crowds to make sure his schedule never changed. Come noon would be the time she would hit.

Hiro Chow would sit down in the same spot everyday, just outside the small business where they sold homemade dishes. Next to the window, and just feet from the alley. He would wear blue, for that’s what he wore on Wednesdays, blue. With him would be his mistress. They never touched, nor did they act like lovers, but her informant had made it obvious.

The alarm she had set on her phone went off, and she quickly went to the window. Her gun was already set up, her scope aimed at the little shop. His mistress had already arrived, and appeared to be ordering drinks when Hiro showed up. She watched him through the scope as his food was quickly delivered. The soup went on his table, and she waited. Within seconds he had eaten the entire bowl, and was chatting with his mistress. She looked for the woman’s purse, and a smile escaped her lips.

The main course came next, and that’s when things got interesting. He began to cough every few minutes until it came every few seconds. He reached for his handkerchief and his mistress patted him on the back as they attempted to succumb the fit. It ended, and he looked frazzled if not pale. As he began to eat, his body lurched forward. He suddenly fell off his chair and went into a seizure. She could see the trail of blood coming from the ground behind the chair, and she quickly set up her things as the screams of many came. She had done her job.

The mistress would be blamed, with the poison that was now placed in her purse. No one would remember seeing Vee there, and no one would suspect anyone else. She smiled as she quickly packed her things, and walked nonchalantly from the building. She had a plane to Germany to catch.

 

Place: Newcastle, UK
Time: Evening
Identity: Kefreon

The hotel room was a fine one, a little aroma lurking by the window because of the air freshener and a soft, comfortable bed. Kefreon had found himself a doctor who treated his wound without even thinking it was from a bullet, and he found himself drinking a hot cup of cocoa in his bed. He licked his lips as he thought of Los Angeles.

"Can't wait for you, milove."

He thought to himself and laughed, pulling himself a thick, five inch cigar. He was famished.

 

Place: Germany, Countryside - Home
Time: Evening
Identity: Vee

She didn’t give herself a chance to relax once she got home. She checked security, making sure there were no intruders while she was out, and then quickly tidied up her belongings. She didn’t stop there as she went down to her basement, the door locking hard behind her, leaving her in an untouchable room. Her hands went for the phone on the edge. It was her special phone, made especially for those calls that she didn’t want heard, and when she didn’t want to be found. She said his number again and again in her head and paced back forth.

Why did she even care about this kid? A pang of guilt hit her. Maybe all she had thought about him was wrong, maybe he did have a reason to live. A reason she hadn’t shot him in the head while she had the chance. He looked just like her son, he even sounded like him. At the same time, he didn’t. Her son had been much younger then him when they had taken his life. She sighed angrily, and her hands shook as she picked up the phone and dialed his number.