Hello! I'm back, though I'll be gone again for vacation. So here's a little extra scene for Hired Gun. This happens before the events in actual story.

Soo... enjoy!

Hired Gun: Extra Scene

Irene stepped light-footed and quick in the crowd. The hood of her jacket was pulled over her head to cover her conspicuous platinum hair, with a pair of dark glasses covering her silver eyes. Her eyes swept across her surroundings, as she rounded a corner swiftly in case someone was following. After going in circles for awhile, Irene walked in a back alley up towards the hotel.

She entered the tall building and went straight into the nearest elevator, pressing for the 37th floor. No one else was in the elevator with her, but she did not remove her glasses or hood. It would be a careless act. If anything happened, if the enemy decided to strike in this building, she could not leave any trace of herself in the hotel, be it physical or visual evidence. Things may go worse, interest in the presence of Claymores may be piqued, triggering investigations by the local government. Not good for the organization's business prospects in this country.

A ping from the elevator announced her arrival at the 37th, and Irene stepped out, walking briskly towards the suite in which her client is currently residing in. At the thought Bryan Ramone, the Claymore involuntarily gritted her teeth lightly. Irene had been trained as a mercenary since she was 7. Her first "light" mission was given to her when she was 16. As a full-fledged Claymore since 18, now she was 27, Irene has had more than her fair share of missions as Number 2 in her generation. She has suffered numerous wounds in her long career. A gunshot wound in her left lower back when she was 17. A broken arm when she was 20. A burn wound, on her right bicep, from an incendiary grenade just 3 years ago. Irene suffered these pain, these hardships without shedding a single tear and trudged on through her life. But for the first time, Irene resented her mission, this mission to be exact, but not because of the danger, no. Danger is a permanent factor in all Claymore's missions. Physical trials did not bother her. What bothered Irene in this mission, was her charge.

Bryan Ramone grated on Irene's nerves. He, a millionaire playboy, was born with a silver spoon in his mouth along with a whole luxurious villa at his feet. His breezy attitude almost convinced Irene that he lived in his own deluded fantasies at all times, to the point where he forgets that there is a group of assassins out there trying to put lead in his body. He, despite warnings from his hired female specialist, wanders the streets with his personal family guards, shopping and picking up women. Irene had already forcibly sent away two women he brought back to his hotel rooms. But the worst is, Ramone had taken to flirting with his female guard. Or rather, tried to flirt, given how Irene ignores his words and ill-chosen sexual innuendos. But Irene felt as if she may just give him a knuckle-to-cheekbone massage sooner or later. Yes, maybe I should indulge in a little luxury. Irene smirked a little, but put on her platonic mask as she opened the door of her client's suite. But… it will have to wait.

Ramone was placing a piece of steak, pierced on his fork, into his mouth, eyes on the other man in the room. Her handler, Ermita, was in a dark trench coat, his entire head save his eyes wrapped in black bandages. Their eyes flicked over to Irene as she entered the suite, pulling off her hood and glasses.

'Well, well. Look who's back.' Ramone said with the steak still in his mouth.

Irene ignored her charge, and walked to her handler while pulling out a thumbdrive.

'Tyler was rather cooperative.' Irene informed her handler as she passed the thumbdrive over. 'Too cooperative, in fact. I recommend keeping an extra eye on him. He may turn against us any time.'

'Understood.' Ermita examined the object for awhile, as if trying to read the information stored within. 'He gave us all we need?'

'Yes. But he lacked information on what is in Raylex's cargo.'

Ermita's eye twitched. He gave the thumbdrive a little wave. 'Are you sure he lacked it? Or… did he withhold it on purpose?'

Irene gave a piercing glare. 'Do you doubt my persuasion techniques, Ermita?'

Ramone's wide eyes swiveled between assassin and handler, the underlying tension not escaping him. Even though he had witnessed a few of these exchanges, he still was not used to it.

Ermita, after holding his charge's glare for a moment, closed his eyes and stood. 'I will dispatch another agent to retrieve the information. You may concentrate on your current mission.' He opened his eyes, giving both Irene and Ramone a once-over. 'Good luck.'

'Thanks!' Ramone called after Ermita's back, as the handler walked out of the door.

Irene removed her jacket and draped it over a chair. 'We'll be going to J.L.'s warehouse tomorrow.' She fixed Ramone with a stern look. 'Don't take it lightly. This is their last chance to get at you, and they will be desperate. Be alert, stay with the guards, and listen to my orders.' She stressed her last phrase, eyes boring into Ramone's. The man swallowed, eyes riveted by Irene's, and nodded.

The mercenary held her client's eyes for a moment, then looked away, satisfied. She extracted her phone from her pocket, contacting Ramone's personal bodyguards, determining their positions in the area.

'Good. If anything crops up, inform me immediately.' Irene listened as the guard, Irvine, answered. Irvine was the sturdiest one in Ramone's entourage, and Irene trusted him, thus leading to her giving him control over the area with the least cover. 'Thank you, Irvine.' She nodded, and hung up.

Irene turned back to Ramone. 'Do not leave the room.' A reciprocating nod. 'No funny business.' Another nod. 'And no calling hookers up.' Ramone tilted his head and gave a lop-sided grin. 'Jealous?'

The silver-haired woman did not bother replying. She merely walked into the bathroom, looking forward to a hot shower. She had deposited Ramone in this hotel since 10am this morning, then ran around the city tracking down Tyler for Ermita's extra assignment. A little relaxation would help soothe her nerves and muscles before the last leg of the mission tomorrow. As she stepped into the bathroom, Ramone's voice drifted in.

'Need help?'

Irene remained quiet, locking the door. She took a quick shower, before laying down on a couch to rest.

-Next Day-

Irene stood in a shadowy corner of the warehouse, constantly scanning the area and keeping her ears pricked for any sound that did not belong. Occasionally, she directed her attention toward the makeshift conference table in the middle of the building. Bryan Ramones, playboy though he was, seemed to be quite a shrewd businessman. He managed to push for more advantages for his company in the negotiations, cowing the opposite party with verbal dexterity. Irene almost shook her head, coming close to denial that the two personalities belonged to the same man. But his talent doesn't diminish the amount of trouble he has given me, does it?

The journey to the warehouse was rather smooth. Irvine and his partners managed to flush out a few hidden assassins before Irene pushed Ramone into the car and drove to the destination. Irene narrowed her eyes, scanning the surroundings again. Something did not feel right.

Ramone gave a laugh, then stood up, extending a hand and leaning across the table. His negotiation partner smiled, imitating his movements and grasping the proffered hand.

'It's been a pleasure, Mr. Nabbs.' Ramone pumped the other's hand. 'I look forward to more future dealings between us.'

'Same here, Mr Ramone. I believe I'll be paying a visit to your father soon.' Nabbs withdrew his hand, then made an elaborate gesture towards the exit. 'Shall we?'

'Of course.' Ramone looked at Irene, and tilted his head toward the door. But before he could make a step, one of Nabbs' lackeys shifted suddenly, hand reaching back and withdrawing a black pistol. With surgically altered reflexes, Irene drew her own Magnum in one fluid motion and planted one bullet in the would-be assailant's chest, another near his nose. As the man fell to the floor, Irene quickly aimed at Nabbs, in response to the rest of his guards pointing their weapons at her.

'Wait!' Nabbs shouted. 'Keep your weapons, now!' He ordered his guards, who obeyed his command, albeit with slight hesitation. Irene kept her pistol trained on Nabbs. 'Was that man one of yours?'

Nabbs shook his head.

'Then how did he infiltrate into your group?'

Nabbs turned to his guards. 'Check him.'

The bodyguards knelt down, examining the corpse. 'He is definitely not one of us, sir…' The guard who spoke wrinkled his eyebrows. 'Wait. I think I saw him walking in here at the last minute.' He whipped his head up, examining his buddies. 'Where's Grant?'

Just then, a shout sounded from outside the warehouse. The communications device in Irene's ear burped and transmitted Irvine's rushed voice. 'Irene! Donovich's men have surrounded the warehouse! They're closing in fast, and with goddamned assault rifles too! Nate! Throw a grenade! NOW!' A resounding explosion came over the device. 'Recommend immediate extraction, now, ma'am!'

'Got it. Is the back under fire?' Irene motioned for Ramone to follow her.

'Yes, but-,' Irvine cut off and, by the sound of his weapon firing, shot at the opposing goons. '-it's under lighter attack.'

'We're coming out through the front.'

'WHAT? Why? Irene-,'

'If they're concentrating more on the front, it also means that things are more chaotic. We can use the confusion as our defense.' Irene squatted next to the entrance, motioning for Ramone to get down and follow her. He complied without question.

Irvine's weapon went off a few more times. 'It's a dangerous gamble, Irene.' He warned his current superior.

'Trust me. Give me a signal, and I'll bring Ramone out.' Irene's level tone seemed to help him make his decision.

A few more minutes passed, with Nabbs already exiting the warehouse through the backdoor.

'NOW!' Irvine shouted.

Irene reach back and grabbed Ramone's sleeve with lightning speed, then barged out of the building with her charge. She kept to the wall, running while crouching to present the smallest possible target to the enemy. Bullets continued their parade around them, giving the warehouse's walls a redecoration, albeit an ugly one. As the assassin and her charge rounded the corner, two bullets flew just past Ramone's head, eliciting a panicked gasp from him. She crouched lower, increasing her running speed at the same time but keeping it achievable for Ramone, who was holding onto Irene's wrist in a death grip. Reaching a stack of metallic-looking boxes, Irene dove behind it, dragging Ramone down along with her. She heard his knees scraping on the gritty floor.

'Aw, damn!' Ramone whined, holding his knees up to show a pair of ruined trousers. 'Do you know how this costs?'

Irene gritted her teeth. Raising up slightly from the boxes' cover, she return fire with her pistol for as long as she could before crouching again. She sighted their backup car a short distance away. She directed Ramone's gaze to the vehicle.

'One last sprint. Make sure you run for your life.'

'Do I get a kiss if I break the Olympics' record?'

Irene, as usual, ignored him and opened a channel to Irvine.

'Irvine, we're reaching the car. Get ready to jump on board.'

'About damn time! Hurry, ma'am!'

Irene looked back at Ramone. 'Ready?' Ramone went a little pale, but gave a determined nod.

She grabbed his jacket sleeve again, then looked around the corner. Sensing a lull in the onslaught of bullets, she ran. She sprinted as fast as she could, with Ramone stumbling and sliding on the ground, being dragged by her. Reaching the vehicle, she slammed her charge into the side of the car, the side of his face landed on the window with force.

'Get in!' Irene swiftly got into the driver's seat, while Ramone scrambled into the backseat, keeping himself low and massaging his aching face.

The Claymore drove her foot down hard on the accelerator, driving the car towards their assailants, forcing them to either jump out of the way or get run over. The woman pushed the car as fast as she could, driving to the front of the warehouse and ramming into a few bodies. After making a sufficient dent on the enemies' efforts, Irene drove in front of Irvine and his two other colleagues, who clambered onto the car before the assault began again.

As they made their way out of the site, another half-hearted attempt at gunning them down from behind was made, before the group escaped the area. Irene drove the car down a straight deserted road, trying to calm her heart down, fighting against the adrenaline.

'Everyone alright?' Irvine asked.

The men in the back answered in the affirmative. Irene merely nodded.

Ramone let out a sigh, and leant back into his seat. 'That was the most exciting shit I've ever done.' He gave a little chuckle.

Irvine smirked a little, just as Nate called out, panicked. 'LOOK OUT!'

A dark green vehicle had rounded the corner of the road in front of them, goons with rifles in their hands leaning out the windows.

'Shit!' Irene jerked the steering wheel to the left, swerving to avoid a collision with the green car. But while they avoided a collision, it did not stop the other party from opening fire. Bullets shattered the glass windows. One of them sliced into the flesh of Irene's right bicep. 'Argh!' The Claymore grunted as she lost control of the steering wheel for a moment, before righting the vehicle again. Nate in the backseat suffered a bullet in his back, but he kept one hand on Ramone's head, pushing his employer down.

'Irene! You okay?' Irvine placed a hand on her shoulder, the other bracing himself against the side of the car.

For one second, Irene felt a wild urge to turn the car around to ram into the offending green vehicle, then finish the goons off with a full-on firefight. The bullet in her bicep sent lances of pain through her arm, and it felt… exhilarating. Her eyes slowly landed on the rearview mirror, sighting the enemy vehicle, her grip on the steering wheel made her knuckles go white. The corners of her lips tugged upward, at the thought of drawing their pathetic blood…

Just then, another shot went through their car, right through the middle, where Ramone's head would have been if Nate had not been holding him down. The commotion it triggered from within the car shook Irene out of her… her… What was it?

Irene shook her head lightly. Focus on the situation now, Irene!

Irvine shook her shoulder. 'Irene?' His eyes were filled with a sliver of panic.

The Claymore merely clenched her jaw and nodded. She brought her foot down on the accelerator hard again, making the car shoot further away from their pursuers.

'Holy hell, this is like a freakin' movie!' Ramone yelled ecstatically from the back.

Irene banked the wheel hard, sending them on a hard turn in a corner, into a more populated road. She focused on the road, swerving to avoid collisions, maneuvering to try and lose their pursuers or perhaps make them crash into something. The mad chase went on for 15 minutes. These idiots are good. Irene thought as she looked into the mirror, the damned green vehicle still on their tail. But she noticed something else: the growing wail of sirens. Another complication.

'Dammit! The police!' Nate cursed.

'We've got to get to the airfield ASAP, ma'am!' Irvine insisted.

Again, Irene nodded. She continued maneuvering through the traffic, picking her way towards the airfield. With the addition of the police, the stakes were higher and it was imperative that they did not crash. As if lady luck was on their side, another police cruiser rounded a corner to catch up on them. But unfortunately, for the police that is, they were right in the path of Ramone's pursuers. Without the chance or time to alter their courses, the two vehicles collided into a burning heap of wrecked metal.

'Serves you right, damn bastards!' Ramone was looking out the back of the vehicle, laughing at their would-be killers' demise.

With the more dangerous of their pursuers out of the way, Irene relaxed a little, but continued to stay out of reach of the remaining two police cruisers.

'Hey, Irene?' Ramone leaned to the front, addressing his female guard. 'I think we can make our way to the airfield now. I'll just buy the police out.'

Irene nodded yet again, and made their way to the airfield, with the sirens constantly wailing at their backs though at a longer distance.

They reached the airfield first. Ramone and his guards climbed out of the battered getaway vehicle. Irene pulled her hood over her head and reached for her glasses, but realized it was not with her anymore. It must have dropped in the commotion at the warehouse. The assassin pulled her hood lower, covering as much of her face as possible while the two police cruisers stopped around their cars, five officers getting out from them.

The law enforcers pulled out their sidearms, and trained their sights on the pampered-looking man and his dubious-looking companions.

'Put your hands in the air! NOW!' An officer barked authoritatively. His hands were steady, Irene saw, holding his gun at ready to take care of anyone who moved funny. He was experienced, probably the highest-ranked among the rest. The mercenary observed his colleagues. Only one other officer was calm, but the other three were trembling as they held their weapons. Amateurs. She noted. May not have drawn their guns before. Irene started planning how to take them out if Ramone did not manage to turn this situation in their favour.

Ramone stepped forward, his hands raised in a 'I-can't-do-any-harm' gesture. 'Hi, sir. Perhaps we could talk about this?'

'Shut up, and tell your goons to drop their weapons if they have any!' The leading officer demanded.

'Wait, wait' Ramone faced him palms towards the man. 'We were in trouble, okay? The people in the green car were trying to kill us.'

The enforcer stepped closer to Ramone, pushing his gun closer to the playboy's face. 'Do you think I give a shit? You can explain later in the station.'

With the weapon so close to their charge's head, the four bodyguards whipped out their weapons, aiming at the offending officer. This cause confusion amongst the other four law enforcers, who did not know who to train their gun sights on.

'What the fuck do you think you're doing?' The officer, still with his gun pointed at Ramone, demanded of the guards.

'I suggest that you lower your guns, and tell your buddies to do the same.' Irene spoke in a calm but dangerous tone. The officer sneered.

'A chick, huh? Why don't you take off that hood and show us your face? Or is your boyfriend a possessive little shithead?' He mocked.

Ramone narrowed his eyes. 'Hey-,' The officer shoved his weapon closer, the gun's barrel was touching Ramone's forehead.

'Three of them are not even holding their guns properly.' Irene nodded toward the officers who were trembling. 'And I can paralyse your arm even before your finger can pull the trigger.' The officer scowled. 'So, do you want to leave without getting hurt, or do you want to be sent to the hospital with a useless arm?' Irene stated matter-of-factly. At the same time, she raised her eyes to bore into the officer's eyes with piercing silver. The officer's eyes widened.

'What… the hell…' He muttered.

'Officer.' Ramone drew the man's attention back to himself. 'I can make this worth your while.' Slowly, he drew a chequebook from his trousers' back pocket and waved it lightly in front the officer's face. 'There are five of you. So I can give you five thousand. One thousand for each of you. Just for letting us go. How about that? Painless and worth it too.' Ramone looked steadily into the law enforcer's eyes, causing Irene to reevaluate the playboy's worth. She observed the officer threatening her charge, and saw hesitation clear in his eyes. Greed is such a powerful sin among humans…

Slowly, the officer lowered his gun. 'Alright. But just this time, you hear? I won't let you off next time I get you.' He tried one last threat, perhaps to save his own face in front of his juniors. Ramone grinned.

'Sure thing, boss.' Ramone took the small pen clipped to the book, and quickly filled in the cheque, handing it to the officer. 'I decided to give you six thousand, because I just like you right now.' Ramone tossed a playful smirk.

The officer wrenched it out of Ramone's grasp, giving him a glare. He examined the cheque. Once he was satisfied, he signaled to his squad to leave. The group of five watched the law enforcers go. Irene pulled down her hood. Ramone gave a laugh, then stretched his arms, turning back to his small entourage.

'Well, that was quite a ride, wasn't it?' He grinned, but it quickly faded away when he noticed the wound on Irene's bicep. 'Damn, woman. You're hurt! Nate, you got a bullet, too, didn't you?' He quickly walked toward the Claymore, but the woman held him off.

'I'll be fine. Tend to your men.'

Ramone raised his eyebrows, hesitating. Irvine took action first, seating Nate next to Irene, letting his partner try stemming the blood flow from the wound. Irene reached down, and pulled out a knife hidden in her boot. She took off her jacket, then placed the tip of the blade into the bullet wound.

'Hey!' Ramone said, flinging out an arm to stop her. 'What in the-,' Irvine held his employer back, stopping him.

Irene dug the blade's tip into the wound, her fist clenched in pain. Excruciatingly, she managed to pull the lead capsule out of her wound halfway, then used her fingers to extract the bullet cleanly from her flesh. The Claymore dropped the bullet and knife to the ground, reaching over to her jacket to tear some cloth for a makeshift bandage, but a ripping sound caught her attention.

Ramone had taken off his own jacket, and ripped off the left sleeve, holding it out for Irene to take. 'Quickly, the blood's flowing.' He motioned urgently for the silver-haired woman, his eyes pleading with her. Irene obliged, taking the cloth and wrapped it tight around her bicep.

'Damn,' Irvine muttered. 'Never seen a woman with so much grit before.'

A sudden gust of wind made them all look up. A helicopter, Ramone's ride home, was landing in the airfield. Irene walked with Ramone over to the helicopter, Irvine and his partner supporting Nate and helping him onto the ride. Her charge turned and tossed her another grin.

'So… I guess this is goodbye, huh?' Ramone asked.

'Yes, it is. I believe you will be transmitting the agreed amount to the given account?'

'Yeap! Do you mind a little bonus?'

'No. And I believe it is in order from a troublesome brat like you.'

Ramone pouted, then brightened up. 'Soo…' He lowered his voice. 'Have I earned that kiss?' He moved his face closer to Irene's.

The pale woman smiled. A second later her fist made hard contact with her ex-client's cheek, causing him to slump immediately to the ground.

But soon, he managed to open his eyes blearily, as Irene had not used her full strength, obviously. He caught sight of the smirking assassin, and pulled up a weak grin.

'Nice… one…' Ramone mumbled before succumbing to unconsciousness.

I tried writing more action in this chapter, as you can see. Please feel free to criticise/review/comment on whether it is good or bad! I would really appreciate the feedback! And if you're reading this, you probably have read through the whole thing. So, a big THANK YOU.