Title: Memento Mori (Remember Death)

Summary: AU He was the best, take the cargo, take the money, deliver it to where it belongs. No questions asked, no questions answered and no questions necessary. But when his newest assignment becomes his most dangerous ever will he drop the case and move on or will he memento mori? UlquiHime

Shalan's Say: Please don't flame me for writing a story with Orihime in it… ducks… Wow… I am straying from IchiRuki… fans… meet my latest obsession… latest obsession meet my ruthless sense of violence…

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach…

Act I: Prologue: The Deal

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A door slammed, the glistening black BMW M6 Convertible glinted in the early morning sun. Shiny black Hugo Boss shoes made their course towards the scuffed patent leather boots. As the feet stepped the charcoal Armani pants tugged slightly at the top of his black socks. A pair of shadowed eyes scanned the waistline for a gun belt but failed to find one, instead they found a shiny leather belt that glinted beneath the trim charcoal vest and jacket. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of dark sunglasses with the Armani name seared into them, his black hair was short, a few strands of hair escaping to brush his glasses as he lifted a leather clad hand.

"Are you…"

"There is no need to exchange names… I am what you asked for…" his face remained emotionless as a breeze picked up and gently picked up his jacket and struck it into the air. "Is the package…" he turned his head briefly as he heard his trunk slam closed.

"I will need it there by Monday… if it is not there then…"

"It will be… no problem… address?" He held out his hand.

"Naples, Italy… I assume you bypass customs?" The imperial man straightened up to measure up the strange, well dressed man.

"No problem… if that is all… I have a deadline…" he turned and walked towards his car, getting in, he slammed the door and drove away, kicking up dust in his place.

He was a machine. Everything was to be done his way or not at all. He was a perfectionist and the best at what he did. There wasn't a black market dealer or a mafia boss that didn't know his name. Of course what he did also came with a hefty price… after all, getting past customs these days was tough.

In his profession… he was the toughest, the fastest, and the most reliable. His motto was don't ask questions and that was his policy when dealing with the clients he worked with. He had found it was better not to take questions nor give them… so he remained silent and for that he gained infamy…

Yet it seemed that the hands of fate we beginning to turn, and as he drove he felt the sensation that something was about to change… as for his cargo… well… that was a whole other story…