Disclaimer: I do not own Hitman or the characters featured in this story, nor am I affiliated with Eidos or I-O Interactive in any way.
Author's Note: Rated M for language. Based on the 'Murder of Crows' mission in Hitman: Blood Money, written in Angelina Mason's perspective.
"Do you understand your assignment?"
"I, do sir", I replied, taking the dossier from his hand. "I will rendezvous with you and Kulinsky in New Orleans at 1800 hours for the mission preparations. I will provide recon and support as Kulinsky prepares to take out the target once payment has been made."
"Good. You're dismissed."
Turning on my heel, I left the office and headed to the car. Pulling out of the parking space, I headed home. I was in desperate need of a shower after work. I still felt the blood on my hands from the last assignment. Not that it bothered me getting my hands dirty; I just didn't want to stay dirty.
The hot water felt lovely on my body. A good shampooing, and my hair smelled of fresh strawberries. A good body wash, and I smelled like fresh pear. Stepping out of the shower, I wrapped myself in a towel to dry. Pulling out lingerie and sleepwear from the bureau, I changed quickly and climbed into bed. It didn't take long for Raymond to walk into the bedroom, shower, and join me.
Nightmares again. This would be the fourth time this week I found myself grabbing the Heckler & Koch USP Compact handgun from under my pillow and aiming into the darkness. Sighing, I hid the gun and went back to sleep.
Tuesday, October 24, 2004; 1800 Hours
It was Mardi Gras in New Orleans tonight. That was the perfect cover for the assassination of the Secretary of the Interior. My orders were simple. The mission was simple. No complications. Yet, I still feared for my life and Raymond's. That damned clone made by Dr. Ort-Meyer. I knew he might be after Raymond and I. Fury burned inside of me as I thought of him. Shaking him from my mind, I calmed myself so I could focus on the task at hand.
"I'll be taking up a position at the Rock Bar. Third floor, first room on the right. If anything goes wrong, you run and find me", Raymond instructed, "I know you can handle yourself, but when it comes to 47, you can't be too safe. I'll take care of him should it come to such."
I nodded and kissed him passionately before going my separate way. The scariest part was that we had no idea what 47 looked like. All we had on file was that he was masculine and had ice blue eyes. Terrible description, even for our agency. The Franchise was severely lacking nowadays, but with the Agency in battle with them, I'm sure they have more important things to worry about than character profiles. They probably figured that 47 would never bother us, therefore we needn't information on him. That's what I hoped for anyway.
Making my way to the western alleyway across from Mr. Purayah's office, I stood near the wall furthest from the entrance. Above me was a piano tied by rope, dangling. I shuddered and left the area, going to another alleyway. Making my way past the Secretary's float, it was en route to the hit site. "Target's on route, be advised", I spoke professionally into the walkie talkie.
I practically merged with the crowd of dancers, sluts, and drunkards. Fucking civilians, always in the way, always pissing me off. Still, they helped balance the ambience of the mission. Without them and the noise, the mission could not go as smoothly. Making my way to the alley next to the Blues Bar, I listened to the soothing music coming from the employee entrance. The waiter outside smoking a cigarette smiled at me. I couldn't help but smile back. No one paid any mind to my black crow costume. Then again, Mr. Purayah's bodyguards were yellow birds, while he, Raymond, and I were the black crows.
Making my way out of the alleyway, I stopped short when I sensed something wrong. I felt as though I was being watched, being followed. I looked around and saw what I thought were icy blue eyes watching me from the crowd. "How goes it Angelina?".
I laughed, "When I get back to the nest, mommy's gonna want more than just a cracker."
Moving onward, I contacted Mr. Purayah. "Has payment been made yet?". No response. "Mr. Purayah?". Nothing. He probably went to the bathroom and left the walkie talkie in his office. And he tells me to stay professional. "Raymond, Purayah isn't answering at the moment. Has payment been made yet?"
"Not yet, Angelina. Patience. We've still got two hours, and the Secretary's float goes round the block time and time again."
I nodded, as if he would see it. Proceeding, I stopped in the center alleyway when I heard crackling in the walkie talkie, the very sound that froze my blood. God, was I paranoid tonight. Probably a connection failure or some sort of interference.
The alleyway was practically empty, except for one drunkard stumbling his way out through the adjacent doorway. "Mr. Purayah?", I spoke, checking for his presence. Nothing. "Raymond, where's Purayah?".
Nothing. What the fuck is going on here? "Raymond? Raymond, answer me!"
Raymond, answer me!
"No…"
Turning around, I came face to face with 47, Raymond's walkie talkie in his hand. I breathed hard, fighting back tears in my eyes. The fire in my eyes burned hard, evaporating the tears. Pulling out my silenced SLP.40 pistol, I staggered, trying to aim at the assassin. Firing several blind rounds, in my blind fury, I didn't even realize I had already been shot in the heart. That must have been what caused the heart pain mixed with the pain of losing Raymond. Fuck the mission, all I cared about was him and now he's gone.
"You…bastard…", I whispered, losing energy. I finally collapsed onto the cold, dirt ground. "You..ba--". I couldn't even finish the insult. I was already dead and I would soon see Raymond again. I hope.
Don't chase you into the dark
With such grace, it's never been this hard
I've never fallen, never fallen faster.
How was it? I very much enjoyed writing this piece as I hope you enjoyed it. Please leave me a review!