Author's Note: This is something that I felt I should share with all of those who choose to read this story. Please don't just skip to the beginning of the first chapter, as I took the time to write this, and I want you all to take the time to read it. Thank you in advance.

I first came to this site because one of my friends told me that I should actually post some of my ideas on this site. I have been writing short stories and the like since I was about 5 years old, and stopped briefly when I aspired to enter the Law field. When that flopped, I returned to the one thing that I had loved since I was a kid; which was writing short stories. As I continued to write, I found myself disgusted with the quality of my writing ability, which included sentence structures, description of places and people and, possibly the worst characteristic of my previous writing tendencies, to create an original character, which did not make me want to puke my guts out. It has been over three years now since I first joined this fanfiction site, and I have to admit that my writing capability has grown.

When I first came to Fanfiction. Net, I started out as a DragonBall Z fanfiction writer (thus my Penname). I bent and willed the characters to my every disposal, trying to create a piece of writing that would warrant good reviews. Of course, back then I wrote strictly for review, I'll admit that much, and, as far as I'm concerned, anyone who says they'd continue writing and posting if they had no reviews are lying. Yeah, they might continue to write, but eventually they would just give up because no one is reading their work. No one is giving them any indication whatsoever that they like what they are reading and they're not giving any encouragement whatsoever. I wrote a couple of stories, and many people reviewed them and told me how wonderfully written they were. I was so happy and began branching off those stories, creating a sequel and even a prequel in one of them.

Since I began writing Final Fantasy 8 Fanfiction, I began to improve even more. I even tried starting to write detailed fight scenes, and I had to admit, they weren't half bad, compared to some of my other attempts: 'and they disappeared within a flurry of punches and kicks until one of them was knocked out of the air and into a nearby wall'. Nothing very artistic about that, now is it? But yeah, I finally got out of that old habit and continued to expand on my creative break, and eventually, I did the one thing that I had always believe would never happen; I created a character from scratch that is both believable, and yet original. He is currently the antagonist in my story 'The Past is Back', which portrays a lot of my improvement.

Now, I do believe that since I have been able to tend to my flaws and improve on the aspects of writing that I have improved on, I am finally ready to tackle the first story of Final Fantasy 8 that I really wanted to write. Of course, the plot is going to be very different, but I hope that everyone likes it all the same.

So for those of you who have been waiting patiently, here it is again; 'Day of Disaster' formally known as '24', only it's bigger and it's far better than it was previously! I hope it lives up to everyone's expectations and please remember to review at the end.

Also, if anyone has any idea whatsoever for a better title for this story, please let me know. When it comes to naming a story, I either fluke it or the title is just too horrible beyond words. Thank you in advance.

Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy. I do however own the Griever chain and ring. Anything that does not come from the game that enters this story is of my own creation. But feel free to rip it off, just so long as you send the credit my way.
Important Note: The time that is displayed at the beginning of each chapter is Esthar's Time. The time at every other place besides Esthar will be mentioned at any given point. Hopefully, this will not confuse anyone.

The following takes place between 2 a.m. and 3 a.m.

The cool autumn breeze flew past the desolate buildings of the business district of Esthar City. For once, the night was quiet; a welcome change from the chaotic sounds of monster attacks and hectic soldiers and SeeDs alike trying to diverge their attention and exterminate them. Children were sleeping soundlessly, excluding the occasional wake up call to visit the facilities or to get a glass of water before wandering back to their beds. Those who had work or other engagements for the following day were also sleeping peacefully, without worry of suddenly catching sight of an Imp wandering around their kitchens and blasting utilities to kindling.

The ones who were not asleep where busy working at the Presidential Residence, making sure the government as well as the country was run as smoothly as humanly possible. Documents were frequently being filed after having been typed up and signed by the President of Esthar, the lawyers of the city were quickly looking upon cases that had been handed to them by the courts, and the guards and soldiers were making their rounds, as they normally would. The number of soldiers stationed to guard duty, however, had been drastically decreased since the decrease of monster activity within the city. People were finally beginning to feel as though everything was returning to the way things were before Ultimecia's attack.

Four months had passed by. Four months since the end of the war and the beginning of the rebuilding of society had been initiated. The worst part about their enemy being a Sorceress who came from the future was the fact that she was from the future, so they couldn't force her to clean up the messes that she had caused. Thus, the task had been bestowed upon the citizens of the world who were currently living in such disarray. It helped that the people were willing to help make their lives prosperous once again; cleaning off debris and doing the best of their ability to restore order and calm. Of course, it also helped that the government of not only the country needing assistance, but also that the governments of other countries were willing to do their part as well. SeeD had especially been helpful with the looming monsters within the cities and villages, herding them all together before either re-locating them to places that they would do no harm in, or wiping them out. Galbadia, Balamb, Trabia, and Esthar were currently freed of any remaining creatures that could potentially cause a threat to humankind as well as their civilization. Buildings had been restored to their orderly fashion, and operations had come into existence to ensure that nothing like the two Sorceress' Wars ever occurred again.

The world had even begun to create somewhat of a world order that would ensure world peace for the future; preventing war and other such things from re-occurring once more. SeeD had personally taken the job as peacekeepers, and as such, they would step in to prevent any situation from extending further into the brink of a war that would probably destroy them all in the end. A legislative body was selected to represent each country, of which were made up of groups of three to further represent the people's voices and so far, the building of this selective group was progressing quite nicely. It would be another month yet before the organization of such a group was finalized, but in the meantime, it appeared as though the people were finally ready to put aside such differences and actually work together for a peaceful existence.

Because of the lesser need for soldiers to be stationed around the city, in order to prevent any further monster attacks from occurring, security had proven to become lighter. Soldiers who normally patrolled the city streets in search of something out of the ordinary had scaled down to a comfortable party of three rather than the looming group of ten or twelve that had become much of a bothersome habit. The number of guards standing guard and patrolling the perimeter of the Presidential Residence had decreased as well, the number five replacing the number fifty. Each soldier was to take three hours to circle and watch over the perimeter before another member of their team relieved them.

Currently, one lone soldier stood in front of the entrance to the Presidential Residence. He was dressed in the same military dress as his comrades; a silver and purple uniform with camouflage enhancers, which also served as protective chest armour and a helmet, shaped like a bug's head with antennae, which enhanced tele-communicational capabilities. Of course, it appeared as though it was more for decoration, which was exactly how the Estharian army would deceive their Galbadian enemies. Their main weapon was an axe gun; an axe grafted onto a miniature shotgun. The axe was detachable, and served well as a boomerang. It was the same colour as the uniforms, and possessed camouflage capabilities as well, so as not to stand out while on a stealth mission. The axe gun was not the only weapon of their arsenal. They also possessed grenades, which were kept regularly strapped onto their belts, as well as a small broadsword to fend off enemies at close range quarters. A combat knife was secured inside of his boot just in case he lost his weapon, and another was hidden up in the sleeve covering his right arm.

The soldiers of Esthar have, for a long while, served as both law enforcement agents and military officials. This was the case because the training that came with becoming a member of the Estharian military also credited to the safety of the civilians within the area. They were much like SeeD when it came to an operation; hurt the target and keep as many innocents safe as possible. Because of this, it wasn't uncommon to spot an officer helping an elderly person, or assisting parents in bringing their children to school.

The lone soldier stood at the ready, waiting for orders to move his position towards the east wing of the Presidential Residence, and just watching out for anything out of the ordinary. Mack Daniels sighed as he continued to keep watch, adjusting the holster holding his gun and checking his sleeves just in case the knife had dropped out, which wasn't an uncommon occurrence. Satisfied, he leveled his eyes and scanned the area in his direct line of vision. He had promised his fiancé that he would quit the late night patrols, but he also wanted to make their upcoming wedding day special. After all, her previous husband had been a wealthy executive, and made their wedding an extravagant event. Compared to that, Mack understood that he wasn't even a runner up, and some days he wondered why she even accepted the proposal from a less than average joe like himself. But he was grateful nonetheless and he was prepared to spend as many nights keeping an eye on the perimeter or any other demeaning task he had to in order to make that day something to remember.

Snapping out of his revere, he leveled his weapon as soon as he detected movement from his night vision visor, and realized that the intruder was heading straight towards him. The person before him appeared to be a short male, with dark hair and light eyes. He was also dressed completely in black, and probably would have remained un-detected had Mack not turned on his visor when he first came on duty. Frowning slightly underneath the helmet, Mack took a deep breath and slowly approached the man, his weapon still raised. "The Presidential Residence is off limits. Please make an appointment with the general secretary in the morning. Just go home and get some sleep."

The man merely stopped his pace when he reached a few meters away from the soldier, and raised his arms in a peaceful gesture. "Sorry to bother you," he said after a moment. "But I have some pressing matters to deal with inside. its business, and I wouldn't normally be here if it could wait until the morning."

As soon as the man before him began to speak, Mack's weapon was already lowered to the side. He immediately recognized the voice and breathed a sigh of relief that it wasn't anyone potentially dangerous. "Oh, sorry about the mix up, sir." Mack quickly said, replacing his weapon to his side. "I didn't realize that it was you. Those mechanics can make camouflage equipment unlike anyone else, but they can't seem to make night vision goggles that can identify someone upon looking at 'em. You just looked like a green blur to me."

The man nodded in response to the apology, but said nothing else as Mack personally escorted him towards the buildings' front. "Please, right this way. I think everyone is still awake in there. Working on some last minute preparations for the united confederation. I don't think it'll be a problem for you to get your business done with. Good luck with that, by the way."

Once again, the man nodded and sat down on the telepod positioned just outside of the Presidential Residence. It was a small circular object, which was painted silver and white to contrast the buildings exterior, and could fit three people on it. The man leaned forward, resting his chin on his enclosed hands as the telepod took the visitor into the Residence. Mack waved him on and returned to his post.

02:10:30

As soon as the telepod stopped at the first level of the building, the man rose from his seated position and took this moment to look around. The interior was even more impressive than the exterior, as he had seen many times before and it never ceased to amaze him how extravagant everything seemed. The ceiling itself had to have been at least 10 feet taller than himself, rounded up in an arching formation with a large circular lamp sitting in the very center. Surrounding that light in a circular pattern were a group of smaller lights, seemingly apart of the ceiling itself. Paintings on the wall gave off a homier atmosphere and almost made him believe he had come to the wrong building. A desk was positioned at the far end of the room, meant for the secretary that usually was stationed to meet with the visitors, but she seemed to have stepped out for the night, as the lights surrounding the desk were turned off. The lights surrounding the man had only turned on automatically because the mechanical mechanisms built within them alerted the light fixtures that there was movement within the room.

As the man continued further into the room, the lights that he passed by turned off after a few moments of no motion. He figured that they would have done this, having already been told about the automated lights that would activate after hours. Within a few moments, he had already approached the desk and turned on the computer to his left, his gloved hands flying over the keyboard as if they were possessed. The computer was a flat screen model computer, with a holographic appearance, and the information seemed to literally jump out at the reader. The man quickly searched through document after document, searching for something specific before he finally found what he was looking for. Skimming the contents for a moment, he found the floor that appeared to have some relevance to the information and quickly turned off the computer.

Walking through the double-doors positioned to the left of the secretary's desk, he approached the elevator directly in front of him, after giving an acknowledging nod to the security guards stationed just outside of the mechanical box, and entered. As soon as the doors closed behind him, he pressed the button that would lead him to the 64th floor. According to his sources, the people he was looking for were located on that floor, and a few others were scattered around the surrounding floors nearby, mostly scaling upwards. The information he had found gave him valuable insight on where they were and how long they were scheduled to be there until. He quickly check his watch, of which had been adjusted to read in Estharian time. It was already quarter after two. He was running a little behind schedule, and he had to make up for lost time quickly.

When the elevator signaled that he had reached his destination, he quickly exited the mechanical box, looking back to see a few more workers filing in, probably having checked out and were on their way to their homes. A quick inspection revealed that they were not any of the people he was looking form and he continued on his way. Searching the rooms as he passed, he noted that everyone seemed particularly busy with the progress on the World Confederation. Each room he passed seemed to be crawling with people chatting and working on the final preparations for the group. Even though he knew that it would take a month to complete, he figured that the Estharians appeared to be far smarter than he credited them to be.

Finally, he came to a room with just one occupant, and it appeared as though it was one of the men he was looking for. The man was seated at his computer terminal, typing quickly as he eyes remained glued onto the computer screen, never once leaving the flat surface for a moment. He appeared to be a middle-aged male, his hair graying out at the sides, but the top remaining a lighter brown colour. His brown eyes did not leave the screen he was looking at, and he was dressed in a brown vest with a pair of brown slacks and loafers. A white shirt stuck out from underneath the vest, as did his lavender coloured tie.

The simple fact that the elder man was busy made things easier for him. Pulling on a black toque-like mask, he made sure that it was secured before he quickly entered the room, closing the door behind him as quietly as he could. Just before he could make a move, however, he noticed the man before him straighten up in his seat, which signaled that he had heard his entry. "Emily? I thought you said you were going home for the night?"

Before he could answer, however, the elder man shrugged just after he finished asking his question. "Oh, nevermind. Could you do me a small favour? Get me a refill of my coffee, won't you? I seem to have finished off the last in my mug."

The man looked over towards the desk and recognized the white coffee mug sitting near the edge of the desk. He made no move to move over to it, however, instead slowly walking towards him.

"Emily?" The man asked again. "Did you hear me?"

"I heard you," The man said, as soon as he was standing behind him. "But I'm not Emily."

The man at the computer jumped slightly at the sound of his voice and slowly turned around to face the man. His curious expression changed to one of shock as he quickly jumped out of his seat and backed away from him. "Who are you? And what are you doing here? Security shouldn't have allowed you entry."

"You really can't get good help these days, now can you?" The man said, grabbing a hold of the coffee mug, examining it for a moment.

"What do you want?" The middle-aged man asked, circling over towards his desk.

"We have some business that needs to be concluded, of course." The man said. He noted exactly where the worker was going and leapt over the desk, blocking his path. "Don't bother going to your desk or calling security. You need to stay quiet."

The executive stared at him in shock before backing up towards the only exit. This time, the man kicked the desk so that it landed in at the door, blocking it from opening. The man, in an attempt to avoid running into the desk, managed to slip backwards and landed inside of the bookshelf. "Don't hurt me…I don't even know who you are! What sort of business would I have with you?"

The man began the task of tossing the coffee mug up into the air as he looked around the cluttered office. Papers were stacked everywhere, and the ones that had sat upon the desk had been blown off in a miniature hurricane. "Oh, trust me. We have some business. Just because you don't know be doesn't mean that there's no significance in our meeting."

The in-prisoned man could only watch as his coffee mug was being tossed up and down in the air. He refused to move this time, lest he become the target of this mans' unruly strength. Suddenly, the man missed the mug and watched almost apathetically as it crashed into the ground with a small crack. Pieces of the mug broke apart on the carpet, most of them bigger pieces.

"Oops…" the man said apathetically. "I missed."

"What is it that you want with me?"

Sighing, the man bent over to pick at the shards of broken glass. "I never would have thought they allowed deaf men to work in an area that calls for attentive behaviour. I already told you, we have business that needs to be concluded." He picked up one of the shards as he made his way over towards the prisoner.

"What kind of business?" The man asked, eyeing the broken shard. "Please don't hurt me!"

"By all means." The man said, stopping just in front of the man. "Trust me, sir. This isn't going to hurt for too long." With that, he gripped the broken shard tightly in his Hand as he grabbed a hold of the whimpering man by the hair. Holding him up by inhuman strength, he turned him so that his back was facing him before slitting the businessman's throat from the bottom of one ear lobe to the other.

Letting go of what would soon be a bleeding corpse, the man headed straight towards the window, opening it up and stepping out into the cool autumn air as he did. Closing the window behind him, he headed towards another window, breaking the window in one easy punch and climbing inside of the room within. It appeared as though he had broken into a storage closet, which was just fine with him. Pulling his watch into view, he realized that that had taken a little longer than he had expected. Sure, he was told to make them suffer before they died, but he didn't want to waste any time whatsoever on taking his time. The next one on his hit list would have to die far faster than the previous man.

Denise Williams was just coming back from grabbing another cup of coffee. Two creams and three sugars. That's how she normally took it. She was a newly hired intern, having graduated from the prestigious Willows Academy with high honours. She had applied for the job merely a month after graduation and had been hired a week after. She was a brunette with tanned skin and dark brown eyes. She was dressed in a purple work suit; a purple vest and a purple skirt set with a pair of black dress shoes and a plum coloured shirt underneath the vest. Dark stockings clung to her legs as she walked throughout the hallway, cup of coffee in her left hand as she read the files that she had brought along with her. The business apparel was only validated when working within on a serious assignment, and unless that requirement was fulfilled, all workers were required to dress appropriately in the Estharian Robes. Denise had come to this understanding when she had begun work on her current project and couldn't work with the robes longs sleeves. With the finalizing of the World Confederation, she couldn't leave her work for more that 10 seconds and she was already working overtime.

Turning the corner, she suddenly heard the sound of something being pushed up against the door. Frowning to herself, she walked in the direction of where the sound was coming from, holding the manila folder at her side as she took a sip of her coffee, being as quiet as humanly possible. As she continued down the hall, she could barely make out the sounds of a couple of people talking. Further investigation revealed that it was coming from Mr. Hector Douglass' office. Denise slowly approached the door and rested her head against it, trying to listen in on what was going on. She could make out the sounds of someone whimpering, and the sound of someone else in the room, but when she tried to open the door, she realized that something was blocking the way. Just as she was about to ram the door open, she heard Mr. Douglass begging his visitor not to hurt him and then nothing.

Backing away for a moment, she tried to process in her mind exactly what that meant. It could have meant many things; for instance, Mr. Douglass had been knocked unconscious by whoever else was in the room, or maybe the intruder knew that he was being heard and was keeping Mr. Douglass quiet. There was another possibility, but Denise refused to allow that thought to come to mind. Instead, she took a deep shaking breath and rushed the door, her left shoulder lowered in front of her and she charged into the door, hoping that maybe she could bust it open. Her coffee mug and papers were instantly forgotten and there now lay a puddle of the warm dark liquid on the floor. Luckily, her papers had been dropped behind her, so they were not matted in the beverage. Backing up momentarily, she repeated the procedure, mentally thanking the University for having a Girls football team.

After quite a few tries, she was finally able to push away whatever it was blocking the door. Unfortunately, she wasn't quick enough and ended up falling onto the ground on her left shoulder. Groaning in pain, she looked aside and realized that adrenaline must have helped her push open the door since a desk had been positioned to block any entry. Sitting up, she rubbed at her arm, wincing audibly as she realized that she was going to have a big bruise in the morning. As she rubbed her arm, she noted with dread that there was some sort of liquid soaking into the fabric of her outfit. Pulling her right arm in front of herself, she realized that the substance on her hand was blood.

As Denise looked around for something to wipe the blood off her hand, she turned to the direction of the bookshelf and screamed when she saw the dead body of Mr. Hector Douglass staring back at her, a clean cut from ear to ear through his neck.

James Logans quickly made his way towards the Presidential Office, never missing a step as he could hear his blood pounding in his ears. Not more than ten minutes prior did they tend to the body of Hector Douglass before it was discovered that three more employees had fallen to the same fate; one having been strangled to death while the other's neck had been broken.

As he turned the corner, he tapped the earpiece that sat in his left ear. James was a dark skinned male, dressed in a black suit, with a white dress shirt underneath and a black tie done up around his neck. Securely fashioned onto his belt were a couple of 9.mm pistols and a hand held .6mm revolver sat snugly in the holster that rested inside of his shoe. He wore black sunglasses, despite the fact that it was dark outside, but programmed inside of them was a heat sensor that could sense anyone within a 20-meter radius. Also, the sunglass had installed inside of the lens a micro lens camera, which could perform one of two operations; one, to record his surroundings instantly and another to see through the eyes of the surveillance cameras within the building. A small button on the left recorded the surroundings while two on the right could control which camera's he was seeing through.

The earpiece in his ear connected to the men he was contacting, and the familiar voice of his partner acknowledging him sounded in his ear. "Deilia, I'm almost at the President's office. Do you have any further information since the murders were first discovered?"

"Negative James." The female voice answered back. "We're still on pursuit. The soldiers on the perimeter have been warned about the intruder, and a few hundred more soldiers are on the lookout for him."

"Alright. Standing by for further information."

"Be on the ready. We might find something."

James cut the transmission short as he walked past the Estharian Soldiers standing guard in front of the Presidential Office. He didn't even offer them a salute as he just stormed in through the sliding doors, neither Soldier budging from their post as he addressed the man seated behind three large stacks of papers. "Sir!"

The President nearly jumped out of his skin, as the room had been dead silent before James' sudden entry. He put aside his reading glasses, apparently having recognized his head of Security and rose to his feet, trying to look over the hulking stacks of paperwork to at least give the man proper eye contact. After a moment, the President merely grabbed a hold of the middle stack of papers and moved them over towards a nearby desk before returning to his seat.

The president had long dark hair that normally reached past his shoulders had it not been constantly pulled back into a messy ponytail. The shorter strands of hair that could not be kept at bay by the elastic band sat stubbornly in front of his green eyes. He was dressed a tad more professionally than he normally would have been; a white dress shirt and a pair of black slacks and dress shoes. The sleeves of his shirt, however, were rolled up to his elbows, since the cuflings that would normally have reached his wrists had begun to bother him during the procession of his work. "What is it?" asked Laguna Loire, as he shifted in his seat for a moment.

"One of the workers working on the World Confederations project just found one of her colleagues murdered in his own office." James stated, quickly saluting the President before giving his report. By the time our men were able to arrive on the scene, we were informed that three more people had been killed as well."

"How long ago did this happen?" Laguna asked, leaning forward on his desk, his hands clasped together and his expression serious.

"According to the worker, she found Mr. Hector Douglass dead in his office ten minutes ago, and she heard voices in his office prior to that."

"Someone was murdered ten minutes ago and you're only telling me this now?" Laguna rubbed the bridge of his nose before taking in a deep breath. "And how long ago did the other murders occur?"

"Somewhere between the time we were called and now." James answered. "My men are busy guarding the area where the deaths occurred and have restricted access to the floors from 60 and above. Also, the soldiers within the building have been put on alert and are patrolling the perimeter as we speak. Whoever the intruder is, he's not getting away."

Laguna nodded, seemingly more to himself than to anyone else. "Good. I want your men to keep a close eye on everything and to study the surveillance tapes that recorded everything that had to do with the floor the murder took place on within the last half hour, just to be safe."

James nodded and saluted before turning around and exited the office. He relayed the message through the earpiece and frowned to himself as he entered the elevator. He had a feeling that this wasn't going to be resolved any time soon.

Jack Anderson was just putting together his portfolio that would pertain to the information that would be necessary at the next presentation of the World Confederation. He had already been there more than twelve hours, but it wasn't like he had anyone to return to. He had no significant other, and all he returned to was his home in the Eastern Sector of the city, where he could stay up all night and listen to his roommate have phone sex with some hotline all night long. He didn't mind the government job; in fact, he preferred it to his social life, but all he really wanted to do was settle in for the night. The only reason why his roommate wasn't out on the street was the guy was his younger brother and he had nowhere else to go.

The man was nearing his fifties, and was looking forward to retirement, even if it meant he was stuck at home all day. He already had a plan that he was willing to see to the end. He had a nice little summer home paid for near the Mandy Beach around the Timber Area, and, despite the fact that it was Galbadian ground, he couldn't wait to spend the rest of his days near a beach. He had graying dark hair that, no matter how many times he tried to colour it, would always grey out no matter what he did. He wasn't a very large man, but he wasn't small either, barely reaching six feet in height and dressed in a beige dress outfit.

Sighing as he replaced the last of his work in the filing cabinet of his office, he grabbed a hold of his jacket and car keys before heading towards the door when a creaking sound was heard. Jumping at the noise, he quickly turned around to see what made the noise and sighed in relief when he discovered that it was just his imagination. The alert had been sounded an under 15 minutes ago that four people had been killed while working, and he couldn't help but worry about his own wellbeing. Many of his colleagues had chosen to take the rest of the night off, and he figured that he would follow suit.

Shrugging, he turned to make his exit, only to find a man in black standing between him and the door. Jack jumped backwards, dropping his jacket and keys and clutching at his chest.

The man in black merely looked at his fingernails before turning to glare at Jack. "What's the matter, Jack? You're a tad jumpy tonight."

Jack backed up until he suddenly hit his desk. He looked behind him to see what he bumped into and immediately turned to look at the intruder. "How do you know my name?"

"You're somewhat of a celebrity, Jack." The man answered, closing the door behind him. "But idle chit chat isn't why I'm here really. I have an operation that I need to see to. Time to say good night, Mr. Anderson."

Before the man in black could take a step closer, he noticed Jack make a move for something attached to his belt and an instant later, was forced to duck as three bullets were fired from the firearm that the man held.

Jack frowned as he prepared the shoot his attacker again. "Good night." He said before firing once more.

The man in black was faster than he was though, and by the time he had fired the shot, a blade was lodged into the man's gut. Jack spat out blood as his killer turned the blade around, twisting together his insides and the victim tried to breathe his last breath. Slumping backwards into the desk, Jacks eyes focused up towards the ceiling, wondering why it was that Hyne was so cruel.

The man stood over the dead body of Jack Anderson, contemplating his next victim, that is until the door suddenly burst open and at least four Estharian Soldiers stood in the doorway. "Freeze!" one of the soldiers shouted.

Figuring that his job was done, at least for the moment, he stepped over the dead body before jumping up onto the desk and crashing out of the window, shattering glass in the process. The soldiers spread out, two on either side as another soldier entered the room to tend to the dead man. One of the soldiers signaled to his comrades, counting backwards from three before they all raised their firearms and looked out the window. However, when they looked, there was no trace of him whatsoever. They looked all around the surrounding area, even chancing a look down, but did not even find a hint that the man was even there.

The leader of the group of five Soldiers activated his communicator, patching in to the guards stationed on the ground. "Be on the lookout! The suspect just jumped out of the window of the 66th floor. There should be a body around the 5th sector on the West Side."

There was silence for a moment and each soldier held their breath in anticipation before someone finally answered back. "This is the Perimeter team. I have just reached the co-ordinates, we are currently standing underneath your location, but there is no body in sight."

The soldiers exchanged glances with one another before the leader spoke again. "That's impossible. Only Estharians have that kind of technology, and only members of the military are sanctioned to use it. There should be a body down there."

"I don't see a body down here." Was the response.

Frowning, the leader switched the destination of his contact to the chief of Security. Once the man picked up, the leader frowned as he said the words that he dreaded speaking. "The suspect has somehow managed to disappear."

02:40:55

James returned to the Presidential Office, preparing to give out his latest report. He knew the President wasn't going to be happy about this, but he also understood that he had a job to do. If he kept this kind of information from his superiour, then not only could he be indited for withholding information, but the killer could appear at any given time and strike again, this time killing an innocent civilian.

It still doesn't make my job any easier.James thought to himself as once again he entered the room. Laguna immediate rose to his feet upon hearing the doors open and James saluted the President immediately there after. "Sir, I'm afraid that the suspect escaped. He jumped out of a window on the 66th floor after murdering another man, Jack Anderson, but, according to the soldiers who were pursuing him, he disappeared as soon as he jumped."

"Did any of the ground teams see him?" Laguna asked.

"I'm afraid not, sir." James answered. "It was as if he disappeared into thin air. Under our understanding, only our people are able to use camouflage technology, so it shouldn't have been possible."

Laguna frowned as he sank back into his chair. "And no one has any idea who this person is?"

James shook his head in response and Laguna sighed. "We were too relaxed. Just because the Sorceress' War is over doesn't give us the right to take things too lightly. Because of that, 5 people are now dead."

Before James could respond, the intercom on Laguna's desk sounded, and the President pressed a button just below it. "What is it?" He asked.

"Sir," came the voice of James' partner, Deilia Oakwood. "We have just received information that might prove beneficial to this investigation."

"We're all ears." Laguna said.

"First off, we have the murder weapon that was used to kill Mr. Anderson. We're holding it in the evidence room and are preparing to examine it."

"And the other?"

"Sir, we just finished interviewing the Soldiers out at the front gate and one of them just told us something interesting. He says that at around 2 this morning, he spotted a man matching the description of the suspect approaching the building but that he let him in."

"He let in a murderer without confirmation?" James shouted through the intercom.

"That's what we asked him, James, but he says that he recognized the man and allowed him in under the impression he had business with the President."

"And who did the soldier say this man was?" Laguna asked, slightly unnerved by the notion of the murdering using him to receive access within the building.

On the opposite end, Deilia took a deep breath and slowly released it. "The soldier identified the man as Squall Leonhart."

The Time is now 3 a.m.

Wow… that took a lot of research to complete before I could even begin to type up the chapter. Hopefully it was all worth it. I wanted to continue on, but I figured that this is long enough for the first chapter to end. I would like to take this opportunity to thank Peptuck and Kaiser for their ideas. Most of them will, of course, be incorporated in this story. If you have any ideas, please feel free to email me your impute. Please don't write them in a review, as someone might see them and it will spoil the entire thing.

I hope some of you have noticed that some of these characters attitudes are based off characters from the actual 24 series, mostly from this current season, which is, sadly coming to an end. Feel free to guess who some of them are in your reviews. In the meantime, please do review, and let me know how you felt about this first chapter. Hopefully I'm doing a good enough job that I can continue this story easily enough.

Also, as some of you may have noticed from reading this chapter (because I am sure that there are plenty of mistakes in it), I do not currently have a beta reader. If you are interested, please tell me in your review, so that I can take a look at a story of yours and I'll definitely let you guys know. But you must all keep in mind that I am Canadian, and because of that fact some words I will more than likely spell differently.