After breakfast

For Caine, the smell and taste of blood in the morning was a love and hate relationship.

"Ugh, it smells like fresh kill in here. You know you could just use a stove, like normal people." The speaker was a girl with dark hair cropped close to her face and still ruffled from sleep.

"And good morning to you, too," Caine replied, finally taking his eyes off the pot of simmering oatmeal and ladling out equal portions into bowls. "And would you please put on something decent? You may be ok with Spyder looking at your ass but I'm not."

Yoni stuck her tongue at him and sat cross-legged on the battered couch in her denim shorts and pink halter. "Anything new today?"

Caine screwed the top on a silver thermos and wiped the red liquid from the sides. "We'll head out as soon as everyone gets breakfast. No one leaves until they eat, kapish? Spyder awake yet?" Caine scratched his head and called out to the roof, "oi! Spyder!"

Lazy footsteps in rubber flip-flops answered him. A blonde guy with a Beatles shirt padded inside the small room blinking blearily. "It's too early in the morning, Pops."

"Then don't drink if you can't hold it," Caine said, wolfing down his hot cereal.

"Whatever."

Caine started washing kitchen utensils. "Don't forget to bring your matchboxes, Spyder. You'll be needing them for today's job."

Spyder nodded and handed Caine his bowl before taking a shower.

"We can take care of it, you can take the day off," Yoni offered.

"No can do, little lady; today's target is important," Caine answered, "why?"

She wrinkled her nose. "I hate what you do after a job. It makes me sick."

Caine raised his brows. "Maybe you think you feel sick but you aren't because people like us can't feel sick. Besides, it's what, only five assignments? Piece of cake."

Moments later, the morning sun still behind them, they piled into a van and drove towards the oil rig up north. As usual, Spyder was driving with rock music blaring and Caine was reading a book while wearing ear plugs beside him.

"We're close," Spyder finally said. "Gimme a shot."

Caine fished inside Spyder's pocket and took out a matchbox. Spyder took it with one hand and carefully popped it open such that what was inside went down straight into his mouth.

"How is it?"

Spyder grunted. "The usual. Furry. Crunchy. Eight legs. You should try it sometime, Caine." He eased the vehicle into a parking position. "Your turn to roll. Don't call me if you need anything."

"Why am I surrounded by disgusting guys?" Yoni sighed, jumping out and stretching.

Spyder tipped his cap. "You should talk."

"Alright, break it up," Caine intervened, "I have a lunch date, if you don't mind."

"Oooh," Yoni crooned, "who?"

But Caine ignored her and proceeded towards one of the dilapidated buildings as if it was the most normal thing to do. Yoni followed, but instead of going to one of the rooms inside, she climbed up towards the higher floor.

Caine felt good about this. Two of the five men in the room he didn't like so much and the other three he couldn't give a damn about. They had received this order three days ago after one of the moles confirmed the treachery.

"Knock, knock."

The reply was gunfire and the reloading of ammo.

When the smoke cleared, Caine showed himself, hands raised. "That wasn't very polite," he sauntered in, "then again, you wouldn't need manners where you're going."

"Die!"

And he easily evaded the knives and bullets aimed at him. He wasn't in the Syndicate's top list for nothing even if his team consisted of a bum and a 17-year-old cover girl. Then again, he wasn't alone and it sure helped that someone was pulling the strings above and making his opponents move slower and making his job easier. A couple of minutes later and it was down to the last guy. Caine gave him a headstart.

"You're cruel, Caine," Yoni called from above the rolling dust and smoke. She pulled the paperback Caine had been reading earlier from behind her shorts. "I'm not going."

Caine shrugged and went off in pursuit.

The guy was dumb after all. The last thing he should have done was wade into one of the canals in hope of escaping under the oil rig's sewer network. Caine gave him two bullets, one just below each knee.

"You know what pisses off the Syndicate the most?" His shadow loomed over the man in pain. Urgh, Caine thought, after rolling in the sewer water, you'll definitely be left intact. "Contractors who don't know their place and go back on their contracts."

"Damn you."

"That's what the Syndicate thinks anyway," Caine continued, "but want to know what makes your blood boil?"

The man cursed.

"Me."

Caine went back inside the room after his job order had been filled, and started checking among the corpses which was the warmest. Finding one to his liking, he pulled out the thermos hanging from his belt and slit the dead man's neck with a Swiss Army knife.

"You are just like your sister."

Caine looked up, red hair falling into his eyes. "Was that a compliment?"

Yoni shrugged and went back to where Spyder was parked.

"Where to?"

"Just drop me off at the main intersection," Caine said, putting on his seatbelt, "then I don't care if you stuff yourself with hotdogs or salad."

Yoni dropped a torn paperback onto the seat beside her. "Who's your date, anyway?

"Just someone new in town; a mutual friend of Amber's. I'm surprising him with beef bowls," Caine answered, "lots and lots of beef bowls."