Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or anything else from Hitman: Codename 47, which is the property of IOI Interactive. However, the original characters are mine.
Author's Note: All lines of speech in this story are spoken in Cantonese unless stated otherwise (I've written them in English for obvious reasons...Think of it as reading subtitles while watching a movie :P). By the way, this is my first fan fiction, but please be frank about your reviews should you choose to leave any. Enjoy!
Jacketed Hollow Point
Chapter 1: Welcome to Hong Kong
10:34 pm, 10/12/2006, Hotel Deux, Wan Chai District, Hong Kong
The hotel room door let out a soft click, and was slowly pushed open as the sound of footfalls on the carpeted floor heralded the arrival of the room's occupant for the night.
He paused at the entrance to the room as his strained, bloodshot eyes took in every detail: The walls were a light pastel yellow, while the floor was clothed in a dark chocolate brown carpet. A bright, elaborately designed floral light hung from the ceiling, illuminating the quilted double bed, colonial-styled writing desk, glass coffee table and a large, soft, black leather recliner chair, positioned next to the large bay window through which the lights of the streets and passing cars below glittered like diamonds in the darkness.
Finding the hotel room to be thankfully threat-free, the man's grip on his briefcase's handle was released, allowing gravity to carry it to its eventual resting place on the floor where it was soon joined by his heavy, black coat and leather gloves. He slowly stumbled across the room in a daze, eventually collapsing backwards onto the leather chair.
A long, sleepy yawn emerged from his mouth as he leaned back in the chair as it creaked as if to complain under his weight, while his calloused hands reached upwards to undo the buttons on his collared shirt, the soft white fabric falling to both sides revealing the dark tan flesh of his muscular torso.
He had remained seated for no less than five seconds before the aggravatingly painful muscle aches that had been plaguing his body for the past weeks returned to haunt him. His face twisted into a frown as the sensation slowly extended from the base of his spine to spread across his entire body, the strange mixture of numbness and pain almost paralyzing him as he remembered the painkillers in his bag.
He slightly pushed himself up off the seat when a tired sigh emerged from his mouth as he slumped back down again, having decided against taking another dose; His reactions were dulled enough already. Instead, he simply chose to shut his eyes and allow sleep to once grant him temporary respite from the tribulations of the present.
To him, however, sleep was also a free ticket to a slideshow of the tribulations of the past. Once again, a familiar scene emerged from his subconscious to take hold of his unconscious mind, forcing him to gaze upon it as he had countless times before.
The black expanse of unconsciousness slowly faded, giving way to a flat grey backdrop. The entire scene acquired a life of its own, transforming into a dark swirl of distorted, grainy images and disjointed fragments of conversations from his past, emerging from his psyche like demons come to drag him down to the depths of Hell itself.
"As of today, both of you have joined the ranks of our honored brethren. Let no force on Heaven or on Earth break this oath of service, for you have pledged your undying loyalty to us. Shin Jin, Shin Long, the Red Dragon organization welcomes you. Let our future together be prosperous and blessed with good fortune."
"You and your brother have contributed a great deal to our cause. Keep it up, and expect to be well rewarded. Our organization values individuals like you."
"You know what to do in this situation. Don't let your personal feelings get in the way. You have proven your worth more than once in the past…I know that you will not fail the organization in this matter."
Out of the swirling miasma, two black silhouettes appeared; One of them a lone figure, the other a hand clutching a pistol.
"It's good to see that you've firmly decided what you're going to do now. Good, then. It would be best that we…Just get this over with. Have a nice life, Jin."
The trigger finger on the hand slowly depressed the trigger, a low, muffled roar emanating from the barrel of the handgun as the bullet spiraled outwards from its barrel and proceeding to slam into the figure, breaking the uniform black and grey with the splash of blood that punctuated the gunshot dancing through the air, tainting and corrupting the grey image with macabre crimson stains. Blood continued to gush from the body as the pistol fired again and again, rending more jagged, uneven tears in the flesh, eventually coating the body, the gun and the entire scene in an impeccable coating of gore.
Somewhere in the distance, a low, monotone sound started pulsating. The sound grew closer, growing louder and faster as it moved towards him through the red abyss, eventually surrounding him. Jin covered his ears, but the sound, now a loud, primal roar, still penetrated his hearing, striking him to the core before materializing into an inhumanly deep, booming voice, which accusingly screamed a single word.
"TRAITOR!"
The real world came rushing back in as his eyes snapped open. His breathing was ragged and heavy with fear as he realized that a high-pitched, monotone sound still resonated throughout the room. He glanced around frantically, searching for the source, until his dimmed senses realized that rather than some other-worldly sound emanating from the walls of the room itself; it had been the ringing of the cellular phone that was still furiously vibrating away in his shirt pocket.
Muttering a low curse, he reached into his pocket to retrieve the offending object and flipped it open, ceasing its incessant ringing.
"Hello?"
"About time you picked up. Didn't I tell you to call the minute you arrived? Where were you, getting busy at the local brothels?" The voice on the other end of the phone spoke with a slurred, colloquial tone Jin recognized instantly.
"Nah, I just wanted a little break from hearing your whiny voice all the time. Did all my stuff survive the trip?"
"Sure it did, and you'd better come pick it up quick before I hock it to somebody. People here would probably be willing to pay a premium for it, even if it did belong to somebody like you."
"Fuck you, Ricky. I'll come pick it up tonight, where do we meet?"
"I'll be at old man Yuen's pawnshop in Kowloon, 11:00pm tonight. If you're not there by 11:05, you can go ahead and do this job with your hands and feet because I'm sure as Hell not going to stick around with stuff this hot."
"Hmph, coward."
Jin checked his watch as he snapped the phone shut and placed it back in his shirt pocket. Sighing, he buttoned his shirt back up as he rose from the chair, retrieving his coat and gloves from the floor, pulling on the gloves and inserting his arms into the coat, slipping it over his wide-shouldered frame. He ran his eyes over the room once more before striding out into the hallway, the door quietly clicking shut behind him.
10:55 pm, 10/12/2006, Yuen's Pawnshop, Kowloon, Hong Kong
As Jin stepped out of the taxi, he was once again hit by the cold wintry air, turning his breath to steam and running invisible, icy fingers through his messy, fuzzy hair. Despite the fact that it was probably colder this year than it had ever being, Hong Kong was just as he remembered it. An asphalt maze of streets and sidewalks overshadowed by a neon-lit collage of concrete, glass, steel and scaffolding which towered over the crowded streets below, almost as if it to mock the numberless hordes of citizens traversing them.
Shivering in the cold, Jin looked up at the flickering neon sign above the small doorway, which read 'Pawn Shop' in Chinese characters. Smiling grimly to himself, he walked towards the rusty metal door, a gloved hand reaching up to push it open.
As he entered the small shop, Jin's nose was hit by the smell of air thickened by incense. The entire shop reeked of it, as did the elderly man sitting on the wooden stool in the corner of the shop, who immediately stood up upon recognizing him and gave him a broad smile, exposing rows of sickly yellow tobacco and opium-stained teeth.
"Jin! Long time no see, young man!"
Jin gave him a slight nod in acknowledgement. "Hello, Mr. Yuen. Is Ricky Lau here?"
"Yes, he's in the back room, go on in."
Jin walked across the store towards the back, his eyes wandering the shelves. They were filled with all manner of junk; a weathered urn, a wine jug, a wooden carving of a Buddhist deity…The typical sorts of things you'd find in any pawnshop in Hong Kong, except that these were covered in a fine layer of dust. Old man Yuen's business must be pretty slow, but he didn't seem to mind. Reaching the back of the store, Jin turned right, walking through a woodworm-eaten doorway to reach the storeroom, which was inhabited only by a rusty shelf, an antique wooden table and a slightly chubby, grimy-looking man wrapped in a cheap imitation suit that was a few sizes too large for his unshapely frame. On the table were five parcels of various sizes, the first of which Jin immediately picked up and began unwrapping.
The other man frowned. "What, not even gonna thank me?"
Jin ignored him and finished ripping the wrapping off the first package, brown paper falling to the table in shreds as he held the contents of the parcel in his gloved hands. He racked the slide, hit the slide release and thumbed the magazine release before slamming the metal magazine back into the pistol. It was in perfect working condition, but then again, he would expect no less from a Glock 18C, much less his own personalized one.
"Thanks, Ricky." He grinned as he reached for the second package.
Ricky sighed and rolled his eyes at the ceiling before continuing. "Alright, since you're going to be here for a little while playing with your toys, I may as well tell you that I've picked up a little hint concerning your assignment. Want to hear it?"
Receiving no answer, he assumed that either meant yes, or that Jin hadn't heard him. However, the gunman had certainly heard him loud and clear, but was just too busy holding the long-barreled S&W M500 Magnum revolver up to the light, taking time to admire the way light reflected off the flawless chrome finish.
"As you already know, this Mr. Tobias Rieper who you're looking for is in Hong Kong this week. I managed to pull a few strings and found out where he's staying, although naturally, he probably didn't enter the country under that name."
Still no answer, as Jin was now preoccupied picking up the stack of loaded magazines and bullets that hand spilled out onto the table when he ripped the third package open. He eventually managed to gather all the ammunition, and was in the process of stuffing it hastily into his coat pockets along with the chrome revolver while Ricky continued to eye him with an irritated glare.
"He's in Room 607, at the JW Marriott Hotel in Pacific Place. However, I hear that this guy never stays in one place for long, so you'd better get yourself over there soon."
"The Marriott? Whoa, he's got class." Jin withdrew a long, black cylindrical object from the fifth package, examining it thoroughly before attaching it to the barrel of his Glock and shaking it a little. Satisfied that it fit, he removed the cylinder from the barrel of the gun and placed it in his coat pocket. "Good to see you managed to get me a silencer that fits this time."
"Shit, just who do you think I am?" Ricky snorted. "When are you gonna head over there, anyway?"
"Now." Jin reached over to the fifth parcel. This one was long…Just about long enough to be what Jin already knew was inside. He tucked it under his arm and headed for the exit.
"Huh?"
"You heard me," He said without looking back as he continued walking, going past old man Yuen, who was now fast asleep. "I'm going there now."
"Shouldn't you get some rest? You've JUST arrived, for cryin' out loud."
"Nope. The sooner I'm done with this, the better."
"Heh. Your funeral." Jin heard Ricky retort as he closed the store door behind him, alone once more in the chilly winter night.