Chapter one: Смерть
"What exactly are we looking for?"
"An assassin, Triela. A good one, at that."
"How do you know?"
"Remember I was a cop not so long ago. He killed those hooligans without leaving any clues – all the police knows is that he used a combat knife, or maybe two. We'll probably get more information once the survivor wakes up, and then we can start searching."
"In any case, why are we doing this? Our job is to deal with terrorists, not gangsters."
"I've talked with Mario. He might be another survivor from Amsterdam, so I have a personal interest in his case. I hope you don't mind?"
"Well… I guess not."
A week later
"Hillshire, it seems the man spoke. You're looking for someone around his late teens or early twenties, bald, and very skilled with knifes. Oh, and he's blind, though that doesn't seem to affect his fighting. Should be an easy to spot combination."
"Thanks. Do we have an area?"
"Sort of. There have been several similar incidents recently around the location of the attack, but it's the first time there are any dead."
"Seems like our target lives nearby. Thanks for everything, Alessandro."
"You're welcome."
Hillshire grabbed his coat, put it on, and left. On the way out, he picked up Triela and explained the situation to her.
"So we're going to just roam the streets to see if we can find him?"
"More or less. There are a few places in which the attacks have happened more than once. We'll set up guard in one of those, and watch the people. Be careful though, we're going into one of the nastiest areas of the city. You'll grab some unwanted attention with the violin case, so don't let your guard down. And remember not to use the firearms unless it's strictly necessary."
"My guard's never down, so don't worry."
They got in Hillshire's car, and left. As the car moved on, the city streets looked dirtier and the people looked tougher. Soon afterwards, the Mercedes started making heads turn, and when they finally stopped, there were a few groups of people waiting for them to get off the car. Triela was the first to speak:
"What are we going to do? If we leave the Mercedes, they'll rob it, but if we go out they'll attack us. If only we could use our firepower…"
"We can't. See that group over there? Try to talk to them, and if they get aggressive, knock them out. It should get the message that we don't want to be bothered across. Then go to the watch point and look for the target. If you find him, follow him, and stay in contact through the cell-phone. I'll stay here, with the car, so that they don't take it while we're away."
"I don't really like this… If that man finds out I'm following him he could attack me…"
"Are you worried about getting killed?"
"No! I'm worried about killing him when you're so interested in him."
Hillshire laughed briefly, and then smiled.
"Don't worry, you're the best after all. If you can't do it, nobody can."
Triela smiled as well before leaving the car. She approached the gang, and told them that she'd like to pass through. One of them made a strange motion, and they started surrounding her, but before they even managed to form a half-circle, she'd kicked their leader in the stomach and punched another one in the face. She then turned to face the remaining four, but they kept their distances with wary eyes.
"Look, I just want to get through here, alright? Let me be, and I'll let you be"
"A'ight missy. Ya don't knock more 'o us cold, and we's won't take yar car. Deal?"
"Deal!"
After a few minutes, she was at the watching spot, a small room in a small floor of a dirty building overlooking a nearly empty street. She waited and looked, not losing her focus for a second. She thought she'd seen the target a few times, but after double checking, it happened to be too old both times. She wass talking with Hillshire about returning when she spotted another suspicious person – and this time, the age fitted.
"I think I've found him. I'll follow him, Hillshire. I'll get in touch soon!"
By the time she's hung up, she's already left the building and is running on the street, chasing after the nearly out of sight youngster. After a few confusing seconds, she spotted him entering a side street. She followed him and, to her dismay, found the street deserted.
If I make any noise, he'll hear me! I can't allow that to happen.
She continued chasing him, as stealthily as possible, to a small building, which he entered, locking the gate after going through it.
I guess that's good enough for one day. I'd better report in.
She pulled out her cell-phone and rung Hillshire. No answer. She began to run, dialling again, without any success. She broke into a full sprint, and made it back to the place where she'd left the car – but there was no car, nor any trace of Hillshire. She was about to ring HQ when someone tapped her back. She turned quickly, taking a defensive stance, but dropped it when she realized anyone who was behind her and meant her harm wouldn't have warned her of their presence.
To her surprise, she came face to face with the hooligans who she'd fought against before. Before she could say anything, they spoke:
"Look, we told ya we wasn't gonna take yar car. We didn't do it! I swear! Look, we can take ya to where they have it if ya want. They's got the guy that came with ya as well. So don't take it out on us!"
"Lead on. And no funny stuff."
She followed one of the youths through a labyrinth of streets, alleys, and houses to a deserted factory. In there, she could make out the sounds of several people making a huge ruckus.
"Look, ma'am, these guys are dangerous. I dunno what they are, but they's got big guns in there. So we're takin' off here. If I were you, I'd be nice'n'kind to them, so they dun't pull out tha nasty stuff."
The youngster started backing, and after a few steps he turned tail and run, half jogging. Meanwhile, Triela had already entered the building. Inside, about a dozen people were talking, yelling and screaming at each other, drinks in their hands. A few of them were leaning on a car - Hillshire's Mercedes. The noise started dieing out when she entered, until there was a nearly complete silence. She didn't wait for them to speak:
"Where is the man that was driving this car?"
"Who are ya to come askin' anything? This car's ours, so that man'd be me." Said one with his hair dyed green.
"I was in this car with a man ten minutes ago, so I know what I'm talking about. Where is he?"
"Ooh, so ya was with a man in this car, huh? Guess that explains why there was such a classy car in these slums. Now listen, we don't know what yar talkin' 'bout. First of all, this car's ours, but even if it wasn't , we wouldn't have seen anyone inside of it, or even near it. That good 'nuff for ya? Now scram, yar ruinin' tha mood."
"Just one more thing. If you don't know where he is, who would?"
"Hah! That'll cost ya somethin', sweetie. How 'bout… 100 bucks?"
"Alright. Here." Triela pulled the emergency money Hillshire had given her, and handed over the cash. She wasn't going to bargain if the information could lead her to her handler.
"Well, well, well… He might be in the back of our shack. An accident, ya know? No funny stuff now, we's got some nasty things and we ain't afraid of using 'em. No cops come 'round, see? Now go to the back and get yar dear outta here before I change my mind."
Triela ran to the back, kicked the door open, and entered. Inside, Hillshire was tied to a chair, gagged, and bruised all over the face and chest. She untied him, and whispered:
"Wait while I get the car back."
She pulled her handgun before he could reply and dived through the door, shooting several of the thugs before hitting the ground. The survivors tried to pull out their guns, but they died as well before managing to even take aim. The last one left was the green haired man, who managed to shoot once before being hit. His shot flew far from the target.
Triela went back into the room and helped Hillshire get inside the car before taking a seat herself. Seconds later they were heading back to HQ.
"Hillshire, are you alright?"
"More or less. It could be a lot worse, don't worry. I'm starting to wonder if we should drop the search, seeing the risks."
"No need. I found the assassin today, so we could end it tomorrow. We could just ask Giuseppe, or someone else, to drop us off and come pick us up, and that way we wouldn't have to worry about the car. How's that sound?"
Hillshire laughed briefly.
"Nobody would guess it was you who was whining before about searching for this guy. Why the sudden change?"
"I guess you must have passed it onto me."
Triela smiled, relieved. Nothing bad had happened, luckily.