Espionage 2

[Anathema]

If you have suggestions please post them in the preparations thread. If you want to join while we've already started please post there prior to posting here.

Prologue

A man dressed in ordinary clothes and a long black coat crosses the street as the pedestrians light turns green. Derek Byrnes is his name, and he's in a hurry. Walking swiftly through the streets of Berlin he makes his way to the airport, where he intends to take the next plane to London. Derek is a MI-6 agent. Nervously, he holds a tight grip on the suitcase in his left hand. The suitcase contains documents that he needs to show to his superiors - a great consipiracy against his nation was carried out by unknown adverseries.

Damn! Derek thought, as he ended up in a very crowded area. Derek is claustrophobic, he started sweating and felt the urge to sit down for a while. But he could not, his nation was in peril. Duty bound he walked through, becoming increasingly dizzy and losing track of his whereabouts. For a minute or so, he just stould there in the noisy crowd.

Suddenly he felt a strange sensation in his abdomen that lasted less then a second- he looked down and saw blood gushing from his belly.

The suitcase! he turned around and saw someone walking away with his suitcase. Him!

He attempted to run after him, but quickly fell on his knees. Sight was getting blurry, and dizzyness overcame him. He fell on his left side, and a great puddle of blood formed around him.

Message

From: MI6 headquarters

To: special agent Chris Palmer

Regarding: new orders

[hide]Dire news regarding special agent Derek Byrnes- he's dead, stabbed in the belly in the streets of Berlin. In our last communication with him he said that he possesed vital information concerning organised criminal activity against the United Kingdom and that he feared he was being followed- apparently he was right about both, as eye witnesses report that he carried a suitcase that was carried away by an unidentified man, presumably his assasin. Your orders are to travel to Berlin and track down everybody he has been in contact and find out the hell who killed him and why, and if possible retrieve the information he was carrying. We don't have any further information that could be of use to you so you're on your own. Good luck Palmer.[/hide]

[Mihail]

Chris Ryan walked into the american airport at precisely 9:00 PM.He was to meet his employer at a Kla-Kla Koffee stand.He was dressed in a business mans clothes,and inside his suitcase were spare casual clothes.In his jacket was a 9.mm. He walked around a bit until finding the stand,and saw a man dressed similarly to a Mafia Don leaning on the wall next to the stand, sipping an esspresso.

Chris went over.The man said nothing,but held up 1 package,with seemingly nothing in it.Then he held up a bulging brown package which Chris knew to be the reward.

He took the "empty" one and walked out of the airport,where he grabbed a cab, drove to his motel, burned and threw away the clothes, and then studied his directions...

[Anathema]

It's 5:00 in the morning, the sun climbs over the horizon and shines into a luxury hotel room on the 12th floor in Berlin Great Hotel. A ray of light illuminates the face of the man who lies in bed. He opens his eyes and stretches his arms- time to rise and shine he thinks. After a brief glance at his newly acquired suitcase in the rooms corner he walks to the bathroom. After a quick shower he gets himself dressed into his fancy Italian suit and combs his black hair. His name is Luigi Andolini, and he's the apex of vanity.

His boss had instructed him to leave Germany as the MI6 would no doubt send someone to investigate the murder on one of their agents. He was kind of sorry to leave, as he had gotten to know the city and its night life. He had been in every single night club and many people, especially women, knew his face- yet another reason to vanish quickly. But first there were a few minor things to take care of before he left. Tomorrow he would catch a plane to Rome, tonight he would enjoy the pleasures of Berlin yet one last time. His boss would slap him and say it was dangerous to hang around longer then necessary, but Luigi was a tough guy and was confident he could deal with any difficulties. He grinned to his own face in the mirror as he hid the knife he had killed Derek Byrnes with in his pocket.

[GhostHunter]

(Still don't have Microsoft Word, so again; bear with me).

Turning down his music all the way Jack began to drive down into the ghetto. Trying to avoid direct eye-contact and certain death he could feel sweat coming down his face. It wasn't that he hadn't been in countless tight situations it's just that he never especially liked the slums of countries yet whoever he worked for always found it either a good idea or got humor from sending him on missions to the place regardless.

Pulling up to a stop light he gazed around at the crumbling buildings surrounding him, it was the slum of America. Sighing he looked over slightly seeing a car right by him, then he looked over to the right to see a almost exact replica of the other one. Holding onto his steering-wheel tightly he started counting down in 10's waiting for the light to change. Green finally came and he hit the gas; he didn't know if he was in danger or not but it wasn't in his best mind to stick around and find out. Looking back he saw the two cars turn off and sighed. Turning his head around he didn't see the oncoming car as he smashed head-on into the other vehicle.

---

His eyes opened slightly, he could sense the heat of flames and blood dripping down his head slightly. Taking his hand to his head he whipped it away slightly and stumbling Jack slowly emerged from the car. Getting his vision back together and his stance he looked up to see one pissed off hood-rat.

"Man, what the fuck is this?" Said the man, trying to conceal his anger but not especially doing a fine job.

"Uh, sorry...I really didn't see you and then..." He was cut off by a snort.

"Bull shit! You weren't paying attention idiot, and now you smashed up my fucking ride!" There surprisingly wasn't anyone around, even after the accident. Getting a look at the man he couldn't have put a more stereotypical image in his head; tall black man, probably around 6'4 with a bandana around his head and wearing blue jeans and a cut-off white shirt. What really worried Jack was the weapon he had; a baseball bat.

Stretching his neck slightly Jack was now getting irritated himself. "I'll pay for the damages on your car, I'll just call up my insurance company...Relax, everyone makes mistakes."

There was a slight pause before the man moved a few feet up.

"Yeah well you just made 'you last motherfucker." Sighing Jack looked up but saw the man charged him with the bat. Strafing left right as the bat swung saved Jack by near inches. Quickly spinning around and dodging another hit he moved into his pocket and withdrew a 9mm hand gun and fired off four shots right into the torso of the man. He might of shot for the knees and shoulders if the idiot had been a little bit more calm.

Putting the weapon back into his belt he quickly ran down the street; trying to get as far away from the scene as possible, though he knew there wouldn't be a single cop car. After running for a few minutes his hand went into his pocket as he started to feel around for the piece of paper. Feeling it he took it out and unfolded the small note; 1045 Pine Street. Gazing up he realized he was only a few blocks away and began to run.

---

Finally arriving at the building he gazed up; two story, box-apartment building with a bared door. Pressing the doorbell he waited a few seconds before the door flew open and hands reached out and dragged him in.

"You could

[Mihail]

Chris walked out of the Cuban airport, and looked around.

Too damn sunny...I'll have to execute this at night..

Chris thought to himself as he hailed a cab.He would also have to get a tan,to blend in. First he had the driver take him to a local gun shop. He walked in,ad promtly bought dual Glock 21's.

Damn Cubans...Too trusting, too easy to get a gun...I'm amazed Fidel Castro hasn't been assasinated yet...

He exited the shop more dangerous than ever.

Next he had the driver drive him to a cheap,but rather dingy,motel. But Chris didn't need luxury. He wouldn't be losing his life, he was sure of it, so he didn't need to spend his entire fortune on a room. But he would need some rest.And planning....

[Dunenewt]

Chris boarded the plane to Germany and opened his file.

His first stop would be the local gangsters in Germany however he suspected someone much bigger was involved and running this operation.

[Anathema]

That night a cab pulls up near that very same hotel in Havana. The passenger door opens, and a pair of expensive Italian shoes come emerge from it, followed by a classy tux worn by a man whos face is concealed by the shadow of his hat. He lights a cigarette and put it in his mouth, illuminating his face, his brown eyes and his black hair. His unshaved face tells us that he is not nearly as vain as Luigi is, but his cold and vigilant eyes tell us that he is every bit as dangerous. He enters through the creaky door and leaves a letter for room 19 on the reception desk, the room of Chris Ryan.

Letter

To: Chris Ryan

From: Your new employer

[hide]Greetings, mister Ryan. As you can see I already know your name, and you can be certain that I know plenty more then that. Allthough you must be curious of my identity I wish to remain anonymous at this time. I know what you are here to do in Cuba, but that is of no importance to me. When you finish the job I want you to fly to Milan, Italy, immediately. I have a job for you, and offer you a sum of $200,000 for it. You know what sort of work I am talking about. The money is open for negotiation when we meet, but don't push it. Upon arriving in Milan hire a room in the Martino hotel under the name of Thomas Archer. We will find you there.[/hide]

[Mihail]

(Yes, Earth,still in, just can't think of anything to put...)

Chris woke up at 5:00 AM the next morning,he had to go meet some...freinds. It was again in the slums, but in a different place. When he walked in, he saw 5 men seated at a table. ON the table, was a different story.3 Ak47's sat there silently. 2 frag grenades and an old fashioned hunting rifle. And...HOW THE FUCK DID THEY GET THAT?On the table sat and old RPG,but an RPG nonetheless.

One of the men smiled.

"So are we gonna get this rolling or what?"

[VigilVirus]

Raziel Mortimis relaxed in his quarters in Berlin. He has just finished his last assignment. Nothing big, killed a few prominent terrorists in Ireland, that place needed some cleansing. They were hard to hunt down, but once they were, he easily chopped off their heads like one breaks up a piece of firewood. Their pleas were pleasing to his ears, their screams brought a form of sexual excitement to him. Of course he used the regular methods, capturing their entire families and blackmailing them. Then, once the fish caught the bait, he gruesomely and with much enjoyment dispatched of their wives and children right in front of their eyes, made them plead for him to give them death, instead of the usual whining about life.

His katana and other numerous sharp objects he used to torture the families sat in a bucket filled with alcohol. He felt every person should have the right to be tortured with a clean blade. Cutting off the rebels' limbs one inch at a time was his favorite method. He used a blowtorch to disinfect the wound as well as bring immeasurable pain to the victim for those thirty minutes they had to wait between each inch. A strong opposer to euthanasia, Raziel gave the poor tortures souls blood transfusions and connected them to oxygen tanks, just so that the pain will last longer.

The phone rang suddenly, angering him with the annoying sound...

Picking up the telephone, he did not talk, just listened..it was a new assignment from the Great Leader...

Grabbing his assault rifle and a couple Uzis standing against the wall, he made his way to the bucket of alcohol. He pulled the triggers on the Uzis and the bucket exploded into mere shell fragments of what it once was, spilling its contents on the floor. Raz leaned over and picked up the katana.

He exited the front door only to find an unfamiliar individual, with a shocked expression on his face, staring at his weaponry arsenal.

"Sir, ca.." - said the severed head as it separated from the guy's shoulders and hit the ground with a hollow thump, the kind a decomposing wooden log makes when you tap on it. The sound of the rest of the body falling came a second later. Raz grumbled, just more blood to clean up.

[Dante]

Right... There was to have been a plan for my character's introduction to this thread but it seems to have fallen through. So stuff it. ;D

The party was going well. Herr Braun looked out at the sea of guests and smiled. His fiftieth birthday was truly special. The catering was perfect, the weather even better, and best of all, his wife was nowhere to be seen! He gazed up at the stars and thanked them silently.

Below him, standing next to the cocktail bar, a woman in a long, split red evening dress with absolutely no jewels stood with an untouched glass of wine in her hand. Vivian Romanov scanned the room with a bored expression on her face. Her blonde hair was tied back, and it hurt. She nevr tied her hair back unless she had to. And she had to. There were at least three daggers concealed in it. She watched the multitude of faces and sighed inwardly. The birthday parties of old men were so boring. She much prefered her own kind of party. The kind with firearms...

She leaned to one side slightly, and felt the reassuring pressure of the crossbow hidden under the folds of her dress. It was only small, but useful enough. And unlike a gun, quite quiet.

Still, she had got what she came for. The diamond lay safely in her possession, and she really had no reason to stay. Except the stars. This high up even the lights of Berlin below couldn't dim the stars. She smiled as she looked up at them, and wondered if the man she had been hired to kill saw them too... She would have to contact her brother soon, he would have new info. He always did.

[Mihail]

They set up on the roof of a derelict rather far away from Fidel Castro, but close enough to hit accuratley with the sniper rifle that they bought just as a precaution.

When they had finished setting up, Chris picked the sniper rifle up, and asked a grunt, Chirico Huano Cortez, "What kind of rifle is this?"

".357 magnum. Don't aim for the head, it'll make too little of an explosion." He grinned evilly, revealing a golden tooth. While another grunt was setting up the RPG, Chris trained his rifle on a particular Cuban's head that had appeared on a balcony. He waited until the subject had stopped, and then pressed the trigger. There. A head gone and a fine red mist. A grunt fired off a round from the RPG. Then they got up and left.

In a hotel in Milan, a person checked in under the name of Thomas Archer...

[Dunenewt]

Chris grabbed his Walther PPk 9mm as he was chased down a dark alley by the local Mafia, despite the fact he had eliminated them as possible assinators of the dead agent. Still, he had managed to acquire a name, Vivian Romanov...

[Dante]

The party was fast boring her. Ms Vivian Romanov left by the side exit. She spiralled gently down the side of the huge building as the cord unravelled; reaching the deserted street below with little more than a bump. Now to get moving, she couldn't stay in one place for too long.

Three men in leather stepped out of the shadows. One of them held a knife, the other a crude club. Vivian sighed. This was getting tediously repetitive. She had killed at least twenty small-time crooks since arriving in the city about two months ago. They were mucking up her business.

Let's see, there had been the drugs dealer in the downtown, he had tried to charge her extra when SHE was selling to HIM. And his goons had been less than polite to a lady... Of course the drugs weren't her business really but there was no harm in making a little money on the side.

Then there was the mugger, the rapist, the unfortunate drunk with a very realistic-looking toy gun... Vivian was jolted out of her remembering as she came back to the present. She reached behind her and withdrew the first dagger. Needle-thin and poisoned with every venom she knew. One swipe, two swipe, miss, three swipe... All dead.

Removing the other two daggers, Vivian let her hair fall to just below her shoulders with a sigh of relief. She hated wearing it up.

She searched the bodies, and found herself several hundred euros better off. She took one of the leather jackets as well, the cleanest one.

Her business complete, all she had to do was make the delivery. And then there was that annoying target she had to bump off... Assassination was really her fort

[VigilVirus]

The screen of Raziel's transmitter clearly read "Vivian Romanov. Subject destined for torture and termination for the potential of unholy terrorism". The message ended with Number One's signature that could be interpreted as the letters "BLZ". Not even Raz, knew his real name, although not a day went by when he didn't try to guess.

Raziel knew that the victim was somewhere in Berlin...but where? Number One did not designate a time limit or rules for this assignment and therefore Raz would have an absolute freedom of what he could do with the body. About a hundred different ways of mutilation popped up in his demented mind, but he forced them back in the darkness of his thoughts to be savored and saved for later use.

Eagerly, Raz shoved the door open, apparently slamming into somebody's face, at least according to the scream on other side. Raz sighed and took out his Uzis. Closing the door, he noted a beautiful woman of about 20 years on the other side, lying on the ground unconscious with a bleeding wound on her head. Briefly raising and lowering the Uzis, Raz was contemplating and fighting a battle with what remained of his bullet-ridden conscious. She did not see him, but on the other hand, she could recognize his voice from the little monologue he had in the hall. But then he glanced at her face and admired the youthful beauty of the girl. He sighed and lowered his arm, grasping the girl's hair.

The girl twitched and began to sob whiningly. Raz ignored her complaints, lifting her strongly by the hair and swinging her over his shoulder like a sac of potatos. Holding her by the neck with one hand, he opened the girl's mouth with the other. Using his thumb and his index finger the pulled out the girl's rosy tongue. Sighing, he proceeded to take out his katana. A quick pull of the tongue and a swing of the katana finished the job. The girl's trembling and screaming body fell to the ground with a loud thump. Raz lifted one of his Uzis and shot frantically in the air. After all, he had to cauterize the wound and stop the bleeding.

[Dante]

"Be careful with this one will you?" Jared's voice crackled from the mobile. "According to what meagre reports I've managed to compile the man's a psychopath. A sadist and a remorceless killer."

"Well, I can identify with those last two things." Vivian smiled, flashing her dagger at a potential mugger.

"He's here for unspecified reasons. Turned up just after you did."

"Coincidence?"

"No such thing."

"Nonetheless, the word exists because they happen."

"Who hired you to kill this weirdo anyway?" Jared asked, the sound of his computer humming in the background.

"The Magus." Vivian answered. "Apparantly he and the peacekeepers once had a slight disagreement. He wants them shut down, starting with this... Raziel."

"And the other guy? The agent?"

"I forget. He's dead now though, and I've been paid."

"You sure you don't want help with this? Alexei and Julia could be there in less than twenty-four hours."

"I prefer to work alone, you know that."

"Right. Goodbye."

"Bye, Jared." Vivian turned her mobile off and continued on her way. Her apartment was on the classier side of the city, but she'd be there soon. She had to collect a few things...

Two hours later, a blonde in a leather jacket emerged from room 405 of the * Hotel. She carried a thin, yet strangely armoured laptop on her back; and an array of weaponry that could decimate a country, mostly biological. In the event of her death, Vivian's post-humourous revenge was pre-planned. She paid her bill under an assumed identity and left the hotel for the darker, danker side of Berlin. Raziel might find her here. Then again he might not. If he didn't turn up, she'd put the Magus on hold and fly out to Japan, where another client was waiting.

[Dante]

C'mon people! Don't just let it die!

[Anathema]

(it seems there has been some confusion between me and Ak-47. With that letter I meant that Chris Ryan should have travelled in person to Milan upon completing his assignment in Cuba)

Luigi was still in Berlin, and in no hurry to leave the city at all. There were still a few relatively unimportant things he wanted to settle as well. He headed for a garage complex in an industrial neighbourhood of Berlin, a hideout and headquarters for the local maffia members. Arriving there, he used the back door and greeted the "manager", Karl Weissburg. He was talking to another maffia member, and both looked sort of nervous.

"Karl, what's up? I'm leaving town soon and there are a few things to take care of before I leave...why are you acting so nervously?"

The second maffia member looked at Karl, who then sent him away.

"Luigi...grave news. An MI6 agent is in town, and he has questioned one of our guys. He knows about Romanov, we don't know how much- our former employee said claimed he didn't tell her anything but we know that's not true, and he won't be telling us anything else anymore."

In a split second Luigis hearbeat accelerated at the thought of the consequenses. Raged, he slapped Karl in his face.

"Where the hell is this agent now?!"

Karl, startled, stuttered. A few maffia members that were witnessing the discussion wondered who the hell that italian guy must be to be able to slap Karl Weissburg and get away with it.

"I...don't know. He dissapeared, we don't even know if he's still in Berlin."

Luigi left the building without bothering to say bye or mentioning the smallish affairs he came to take care off. He expected that the MI6 might track him down, but he didn't think they would go after Romanov. This called for a change of plans. He was instructed to meet with Vivian Romanov in about a week somewhere in Paris, but there was no time now. Romanov so happened to be in Berlin too and he would call her to arrange a meeting no later then tomorrow. He dialed her number in his cell phone.

"Romanov? This is Luigi speaking. Yes, I know that I shouldn't have contacted you till next week but this is urgent. There is a MI6 agent in Berlin and he knows about you...no I don't know how much he knows. Listen, meet me tomorrow at 10:00 in front of the Brandenburg tower, the transfer of the suitcase will take place there...look, it's not MY fault...okay, I'll see you then."

Speedily he headed back to his appartment and put the cell phone back in his coat. He briefly touched his gun inside his coat while doing so: a silenced Beretta 9mm. A real assasins weapon, perfect should he run into any nosy British agents...

[Dante]

"I've really got to stop giving out my number like that..." Vivian muttered to herself as she tapped out codes on her laptop. Her special laptop. It carried a sample of every venom, poison, disease, or otherwise toxic substance which Vivian found 'interesting.' She often used them to kill off unwanted attention. Of course the same method had almost been the downfall of her predecessor... She continued tapping away. The suitcase she was to deliver did not belong to her. It was a deal she had no part in, being a mere go-between; paid to do the dangerous work. Of course now she had to arrange to collect it far earlier than expected... She didn't even know what was in it. And there was this Raziel, further complicating matters.

She sighed and snapped the laptop shut. She would be there, on time. The Japanese client may have to wait... She called her brother.

[Anathema]

The next morning Luigi sat on a bench in front of the Brandenburg tower in Berlin. There weren't many people at all, just a few lonely wanderers walking the streets.

Good, he thought. No nosy peekers then. Though not very calming considering the woman I'm meeting is a cold blooded killer...

He put his in his coat to feel the silenced handgun hidden there...that did calm him. In his previous career as a contract killer he had always prefered silent weapons such as this gun or his trusty knife, and neither had ever failed him.

He didn't even hear Romanov sneaking up on him from behind, and was scared to death when she put her hand on his left shoulder.

"Jesus Christ Romanov!"

Romanov was a beautiful woman, even by Luigis high standards, but her eyes showed a dead serious determination that pierced him and made a chill run down his spine. Vivian grinned briefly, apparently pleased by giving Luigi a good scare, and sat down beside him.

"I see you got the briefcase." she said, pointing her chin at the black briefcase near Luigis knees.

"I do." Luigi said, without any particular emotion in his voice. As if he had a 6th sense, he felt something was wrong about the way Romanov behaved, but he couldn't put his finger on what. Best be careful.

"Listen...I got nothing to do with the MI6 finding out about this, the local maffia had some involvement in the bosses plan too and they talked..." he didn't talk further because Vivians facial expression (or rather, the lack thereof) gave away she was not interested in explanations- or excuses.

"What's in it, anyway?" she asked. She was merely a courier between Luigi and the boss.

"That's not something for you to know." Luigi said, now very suspicious. He tried to anticipate her next move but her emotionless eyes gave away nothing...

[Dante]

[OCC: Thanks Earthnuker. Nice to see she's getting the respect she deserves. :) ]

"Excuses bore me, and I can understand privacy. Business can take place once we arrange my fee." Vivian pointed out, her eyes glinting in the early sun. "I know how much, and it is an adaquate ammount. But the collection point has yet to be decided. Or even discussed." She pointed out while her mind made calculations.

Outwardly calm, that means he's armed. Not a fighter, more an... assassin. Shows emotion...

"And another thing." She brought up what meagre records Jared had been able to find on Raziel Mortimus on her laptop. "This man is stalking me. Either he has an interest in me personally, or you. The alternative is that he is interested in our deal. In any of these three cases he is dangerous. I can't spare any time to go hunting psychopaths, but warning business associates I am able to do."

She scrutinised the face of the man that sat next to her. Intent, hispanic or Italian she guessed... He looked like he would much rather be in charge than running errands like this. He appeared interested, but the worry flickered across his brow. He might know...

"You have had contact with this individual before?" Vivian asked. "If so then pooling our resources seems to be a logical option."

[Anathema]

Luigi looked at the picture on the laptop...he had seen that face before, if only he could remember where.

Ah, Ireland!

His organisation had provided weapons and training to local terrorists. His employer had an interest in Ireland, but he didn't know in what manner or to what extent. The guy on the laptop had been thought responsible of the untimely deaths of numerous terrorists. The boss was pissed and wanted Luigi to assasinate this guy, but at the very last moment the assignment was given to another, lesser hitman- wich failed the job!

"I don't know his name or his employer" Luigi said. "All I know is that he murdered dozens of terrorists in Northern Ireland. As for your fee...this is a fairly simple courier job with minimal risk, but since we need someone who can smuggle it past customs and airport security we offer you a fee of 120,000 British pounds. The dropoff point is in St. Petersburg. Specificly, the Pushkin building, a former FSB headquarters. Tell the person at the reception desk your name is Elisabeth Brooks. There you will hand over the suitcase and receive your payment."

[Mihail]

OOC:He did...Going to post tomorrow,been working on my upcoming site (Dun dun dun duuun! ;) :D )And am rubbing my eyes every 5 seconds now.

IC:Chris flopped down on his bed in Milan and sighed.Today had been a long day.Perhaps he'd go sightseeing tommorrow.Italy did have splendid cathedrals(SP?).He undressed and got into bed, and after that,turned on the news.The reporter was speaking Italian, but he understood what he was saying...

"And other breaking news is that Cuba's president,Fidel Castro, has been assasinated-"

Chris smiled to himself.

Now who could that have been?

[Dante]

"Excellent." Vivian snapped the laptop closed. She paused for a second. She had always believed that keeping business contacts alive was sensible in case she wanted to deal with them again... But this Raziel was dangerous. He might find him, torture him for infomation... And Vivian wasn't sure her contact would keep his mouth shut.

She slipped a hand underneath her laptop and pressed a hidden pad. A tiny needle dropped into her palm. She reached over as if to adjust her boot, and scratched the man's hand with the needle.

It hardly broke the skin, but it was enough. Luigi had time for one gasp, to reach for his weapon... and then he died from a massive heart attack.

Vivian quickly searched his body, and removed all of the weapons and cash. Then she picked up the case, and calmly walked away. There was no evidence to incriminate her, not even inside the body. Nobody noticed anything odd; he looked like he was sleeping. She sauntered off into the mists.

"St Petersburg, Russia." Vivian whispered into her mobile. "I'm heading out there now." She handed the ticket over. "Yes, yes I know. Alright. No I don't. Bye." She hung up. The case was locked, but she wanted her fee.

[VigilVirus]

Raziel was making his way through the streets of Berlin, not even trying to hide from public view. He had to kill off several cops in the past few hours, they've seen him carrying that girl over his shoulder, before he got a chance to put her screaming little body in the dumpster. She died a pleasant death - being crushed with the trash that others like her produced. They were all the same to Raziel, terrorists and rebels against the moral laws. No better than this Vivian gal. "Where was she anyways? I'd guess she's on to me by now..."

Contacting the Peacekeeper HQ, he made his way to the airport, where he would await a message if any traces of Vivian have been detected leaving the country.

[Anathema]

Luigis body lay there on the bench for 2 hours before anyone thought there could be something wrong. The ambulance took his body for autopsy to the morgue, where they established the cause of death to be massive heart failure, for unknown reasons but there was no reason to assume this was an unnatural death. The body could not be identified by the physisician.

At the end of the day another physician came to the morgue, supposedly to run another superficial analyses of the corpse. The doctor was of seeming Italian descendance and had not shaved himself, wich is rather odd for an educated person such as a doctor.

The doctor pulled the sheet off the body and for a second his otherwise cold eyes showed a glimmer of emotion, as if he recognised the dead man. He took a blood sample and left the chamber. Before leaving the complex he entered a broom closet and changed back into his own clothes, an expensive italian tux and appropriate shoes. He threw the doctors coat next to the lifeless body he had "borrowed" it from to gain entrance to the morgue.

The man indeed an Italian, his real name was Guisepe...Guisepe Andolini, Luigis brother.

---

That very evening a letter is shoved underneath the door of Chris Ryans hotel room.

[hide]We require you to assasinate three men. The first one is due to arrive in Milan tomorrow at 17:00, wich is why you were instructed to come here. His name is Sergeij Zakarov, the Russian ambassador for Italy. He is returning from a "vacation", but that's not important for you. We want him to die before he even leaves the airport. Pay a visit to the flower shop next to the entrance prior to the assasination, they have any weapons you could need for you to carry this out. The assasination of this man will earn you the established fee of $200,000 dollars.

Upon completing this task board a plane to St. Petersburg. Rent a room in the Zjernski hotel under the name Thomas Archer and await instructions for the next assasination.[/hide]