Authors note:

the same as the last attempt but a lot more time taken on the rewrite most chapters have undergone a review the general story is the same I will still not be sticking to cannon as that is just recycling I have attempted to give the OC a better back ground than just skipping over it. And again I am changing the originals around a bit depending on their new experiences.

You Can Sleep When You're Dead

How did it come to this?

If it's not bad enough that the dead won't die, you have these jokers demanding we hand over everything we have food, weapons, the car and the sickest request of all the girls. I mean seriously how does he think this is about to go down.

The twat that has been making the demands, I have now named Mr Noisy, as that is all he had done since we first meet, been noisy and shouting his demands. In some sort of an attempt at an intimidation tactic.

I'm stood facing the noisy leader and two of his crony's flanking me to try and close down any escape. But so far the only one with a gun is Mr Noisy and the man on top of the barricade with a hunting rifle. The man is still shouting his demands into my face, drenching me in his spittle. Not the most fun I have had lately, but with things now rapidly going south, I may not have to put up with it for much longer.

I have tried asking him, even pleading that he should be a bit more quiet, as some groups of them have start to arrive drawn in by the noise in the vain hope it will lead them to a meal.

I have had my fuck fill of this little shit now and I am just biding my time, until he makes a mistake.

Takashi, our leader was putting faith in me to help us get out of this. But in all honesty it was not him that I cared for, or most of the others there was only two that had my full attention and concern and I would ride butt naked through hell itself to ensure their safety.

There was a plan and we had a backup plan, if things went bad and it was certainly looking that way. Sighing to myself as I see the opportunity I had been waiting for. Inwardly saying here go's plan B.

15 minutes previously.

A shot rang out cracking the armoured glass on the Humvee, as we tried to cross the bridge.

The vehicle came skidding to a halt just short of a makeshift barricade. Shouts and curses rippled through the occupants especially from Kohta as he was bounced around the cupola

"The hell was that" was screamed from Saya as the glass cracked in front of her indicating that if it was not for the armoured glass she would have died

"Bandits" Takashi shouted above the pink haired smart arse

"and I guess he is about to say something" I pointed to the man that appeared next to the barricade that was now shouting at us

"All of you GET OUT OF THE CAR YOU FUCKERS!"

Things where now looking bad very bad. I could see movement at the top of the barricade. He had others with him. The road was blocked by a stinger strip as another was thrown on the road behind us. So even if we do drive off it will take out the tyres casing us a long perilous journey on foot to the safe zone.

"If we all get out we are in the shit." Takashi sounded in an angry tone "Only one of us needs to get out of the car. The hummer is armoured so keep the windows up. Kohta get down and listen to my plan" The leader of our group of survivors demanded. He had become quite the little leader. Granted he had fuck all experience considering his age, but for the most part he had the ability to see more into a situation and come up with a resolution, a good trait in this new world.

"I'll go out and talk to them" it was then that I interrupted him.

"Look kid you're the leader... but with you gone... if this go's tits up, who will lead this lot? So in this case I'll go."

"hell no I.." at this point I cut him off again.

"It's a no win situation if we don't, I will go talk to them and if or when the shooting starts then well, you'll think of something."

He looked to me and then answered "you're right but there are a lot of them"

"Multiple targets are not fun and if I can talk us out of this, then well all's the better." I said this to him knowing it is stupid to face so many at once, but I still gave him a big tooth grin.

He then looked down sighed and looked up with conviction "Ok your up, Kohta if you can, if it go's wrong pop up and get a few rounds down, at anyone you see fit. Miss Shizuka you will need to drive the hell out of here as fast as you can at the same time"

"Then I will go with you." the violet haired warrior next to me said.

Seako the one person, I ever trusted to have my back and she had done so many times before. I had fallen for her some weeks ago when an acceded brought her to me. Also incidentally, she is the only girl that has kicked my ass up one end of the street and down again and therefore was a little fearful of in close hand to hand combat.

I looked to her with conviction "you know this is man's work." Hoping she will understand or that her code will tell her forget it. "So no!... sorry but not this time. We have a plan that has a chance for you all to get away, take it or fuck knows what this lot will do. Besides in your situation I don't want to risk it."

She looks me in the eye, knowing what I mean. Then says with anger and sadness in her voice "well you better come back to me then"

"Ok I promise… but I will be at our chosen location in two days, if I make it if I'm not there, leave me a note and go to the safe zone but assume the worst. Got all that boss" I look to Takash.

He finally gives a nod, giving me the approval that he understands what needs to be done.

With that final approval I move to get out, only to be stopped again by Seako I give her my best winning smile and gently touch her hand kissing her on the cheek I pull away to get out.

"I know what you are doing… But If you die I won't forgive you" she whispers into my ear. I whisper back telling her "If I die I will come back and haunt Saya" she smirks a little knowing what the two of are like. "love you" where my final words to her.

I walk slowly to the shouting man. You think he would have shut up but no. I have a small smile on my face trying to look as friendly as possible, hoping to defuse the situation.

as I walked to Mr noisy I go through the routine, thumbing off the safety of my FN five seven pistol strapped to my right leg, it had been my companion during all of this last month and feel the assuring weight of my sword on my back confident in what I have to do next.

I start to recite my private prayer that I have whenever I am on a job that it is about to go noisy,

"Yea though I walk into the valley of the shadow of death I shall fear no evil for my gun and sword accompany me and all evil shall fear me for they do not know who they are fucking with."

This prayer was more superstition than faith. It was something I started when I first started on my path 3 years ago after about the 4th contract. At the time it was because I thought it sounded a bit badass, after watching pulp fiction. So I wanted something like that now however it is more for luck Must be growing up.

As I finish I start to replay the events of the last few weeks that lead to this moment.

ooooooooo

Before I start that story let me introduce myself.

I am James Campbell, 23 years old, form Falkland Scotland originally. A brilliant little town that was located in central Fife at the foot of east Lomond hill. So other than a name and a town, how do I start probably from the beginning would help.

When I was younger from what I remember, I had a very good upbringing my father was a car mechanic and I was his shadow. I was always helping him, as he tinkered with cars, ever since I could lift a spanner. After school he would pick me up taking me home or I would be in his garage helping out .We were inseparable.

My mother was a seamstress that worked in the tailors shop across form the lager monument in the centre of town, she was always the grounding force in our family. As the one that would dish out the discipline, as opposed to my dad, that would help me get into trouble in the first place.

But as life is never simple and never clear cut and there is no happy endings. Both my parents died in a car accident. At first I was like any kid that had this kind of thing happen to them, I was depressed and angry at everyone most of all god.

As I moved from foster home to foster home, so social services could looked for other relatives to take me off their hands. I would get into all sorts of bother from running away from foster homes. To one particular incident, that involves duct tape, stringing, a match and some toilet paper. (Don't ask seriously… but it's safe to say that cat, will probably not be coming back any time soon.) Now I don't say this so that you will feel pity for me. As well you can keep it I'm doing just fine thank you. Granted I have some anger issues but who doesn't.

Eventually a relative was found my father's brother. My uncle Jonathan Campbell, He was always moving around from country to country from what I remember of him from back then. He was in the Army, but never use to speak of what it was he had been doing there. It was kind of like an unwritten rule never ask uncle Johnny, what he is doing?

Turns out as I found out later why you never ask because sometimes the truth just needs to stay where it is.

He was married my aunt Jenny, she was a fun woman. Very much the opposite of my mother, coming from a big family from Hertford Connecticut. Where I was to emigrate to becoming there adopted son at the age of 11.

Then again things where good. I was in a loving home with loving parents, I do feel guilty sometimes when I think of the way I treated them at first, with my hissy fits but I was still hurting.

At the age of 12 I started to gain my footing and some of my own interests, just the normal things kids where interested in like Soccer (I still call it football just the Americans don't ), cartoons and shooting (granted, the biggest thing I was allowed then, was a nurf gun. But you got to start somewhere.)

It was at that time a friend of my uncles and someone that he had worked with. Ishmael an ex Israeli army combat instructor, that had started his own school self-defence school in town. He suggested it to my parents, as he had seen my temper flair before, that what I needed was an out let and that was to be Krav Maga. I absolute loved this it was a way to vent my anger and blow off steam and this helped me a lot to come to terms with my earlier life.

However I found that one art was not enough for me so I went looking for another when I turned 14. Aging I found something that I thought would make me look good in front of my friends well to be more specific the girls. Girls love a badass and as a lad with a scots accent that had watched too much Bravehert, I chose bastard sword fighting part of SCA. Again this was a fun outlet for me as I got to grips with a new form of fighting. but I was only able to take this up for a year as the training school I attended closed down.

I was not satisfied with this result, so I started to look again. In the end my search leads me to take up kenjutsu, to replace my lost outlet. That also played a part in my reasoning to move to Japan later in life, because if you are going to master something ,its best to go to its place of origin and study under a master for a few years.

At 16 while I was fucking about training in our basement, I tripped over falling through a false wall. This is when I found out all about uncle Johnnys other life.

All I knew was that he was in the army and now worked as a jazz club owner. Nope as it turns out the club was a cover, to filter his earnings from other things. I sat nervously in the basement waiting for him to come home, to ask the unasked question.

At first he was pissed off and I mean fucking pissed right off. He was normally such a well-mannered and quiet man but not today. Until I asked him "what do you do?"

looking me up and down he then sat down "well I supposes you could of found out anyway, I am a contract killer or well at least was… not so much now getting too old for it… when I was in the army I went to the SAS… then when I retired, I found it hard to get work so ended up doing what most ex special forces do and that is we work the circuit." he stopped still looking at me.

"What's the circuit?" Asked him not understanding

He looked away for a second to train and order his thought's "it's where ex forces people go to find work. Mostly private military company's looking for persons with our skill set. Doing things like bodyguards or working for oil company's guarding some of their assets… Then as things do when you are good at those skills, one thing leads to another. So I would go from company to company getting work where I could. This then leads you into some of the shadier workings of that world, where people like me are needed and offered exclusive jobs with high pay days, all off the books. Say some oil executive is creaming profits, To admit this is an embarrassment to the company, more now than ever as they come under more scrutiny. Then the best way is to have said exec disappear or have an accident. That is where I would come in." he then started to explain some of the reasons behind such jobs from politics to just your average dickhead that fucked off the wrong people.

It was at this point I interrupted him "So how do you get into this?"

Looking at me with surprise in his face he answered "you my boy don't" he knew what I meant "You are too young and this shit would just fuck you up in the head."

That is how it was for the next 2 years, I would ask him to train me he would say no I was too young. But a little after my 18th birthday he finally gave in, after I said I would find my own way to get into this sort of work. Thinking about this now, it does sound very much like I was being a cunt that gave him no option.

"alright but you must listen to me and do exactly as I say and don't think you are doing anything soon. It will take a long time training you and you are only getting a contract after I say so. Now your first lesson is this find Job you love doing, that will make you appear normal in anyone's prying eyes. You must looks as normal as possible, as anonymity is your greatest weapon."

The next two years for me where intense as well as my apprenticeship in a local garage any free time I had was spent training in the art of killing and learning the rules such as.

Never break cover.

Always research your mark you need to know every aspect of their lives.

One mark one job never take on more than you can handle.

avoid jobs in your home town

The further away the better. range attacks make for better escape plans.

no signature kills

and so on.

Weapon training was first and thorough learning to shoot a rifle then down to assault rifles then PDWs pistols and last was the uses of a Knife.

After I became proficient it was on to surveillance and counter surveillance.

Then advanced first aid and some medical training the reason for this is say you are involved in a shooting and pick up a wound. Well hospitals have to notify the authorities, when someone turns up with wounds caused by violent acts, so that is a quick way to get caught.

It was 2 years of training dummy runs dummy research on random people before I was allowed to go on a contract. this was setup through Johnny's contacts

My first contract was just before my 21st birthday the mark was a drug dealer that had pissed off his suppliers.

but I best explain The flow of a job is something like this: his employers would set a contract and approach our employers. Who would then would contact us with the job, ether by dead letter drop or email to an untraceable account, as you would assess it using random internet café or library's. in read it and out in less than 2 minutes. Then you would send to your handler that you are taking or turning down the work.

A good employer would know what you will and won't do, but sometimes they do fuck it up. After that you start your research and planning, go to your fixers for what you need.

Do the contract and disappear into the night. Getting paid is the hardest part but again if you have a good employer not such a problem.

All the cloche and dagger stuff is for protection against counter hits and unforeseen problems. My employer should not know who I am the same as I should only know who my employer's contacts are. Then an established isolation takes place. so if one is caught you cannot fuck over the other.

My uncle watched over me as I planed the contract and carried out the hit on the mark a sniping job from 600 meters away 1 round to the head from a secluded ally to his home.

After the contract was completed, I was given my final lesson "It is up to you what you will do now. But mental health is something not to be scorned at, or put on the back burner. If you ever need to talk, ask me any time… or find someone you can trust that understand and talk to them. Or this life will fuck you up in the head… you are still young and I am still not letting you go it alone just yet but that time will come soon."

On that day I decided that I would never accept certain contracts no matter the money such as attacks on children or persons I deemed Innocent. Only take those that are the shit of society such as gang members, murders, rapists, corrupt politicians and the like. More to save my sanity. I know this makes me sound a bit vigilantly, but if it helps me sleep at night, then all the power to me.

I had turned 22 and I was itching to fly the nest and decided that, as I loved all things Japanese, I would go live there for a time. I then sat and planed out what I will do taking to my contacts and fixers to arrange work in Japan, as well as visas and my cover work. I spent the next year learning the language and some of the customs in hindsight I should of learnt all the bloody customs but then hind sight is perfect.

The day I left Jonny and Ishmael were there to see me off. "Remember kid you are still just starting out. You are no master assassin yet just. Remember what we taught you. And you will be fine." Then with handshakes and the eco of see you in a few weeks in my ears I boarded the plain sadly never to return.

0000

Day before Z Day:

I am down the docks in Tokanosu city, looking for my Shipping container. This contains my gear for my work, Both legit and not so legit. The gear was late by 2 weeks pissing me off somewhat as I had to turn down a contract, as well as upset some customers that needed their cars serviced and I so wanted to work, on that MG A that turned up at the shop a few days ago. I still have a passion for all things mechanical. But my main concern was, Hoping it will just get a once over from the port authority and not a detailed search.

I had been assured from my fixer that everything should be ok, that the right people had been paid off. Namely the port chef and the customs manager. I need this to go through So that I can do the jobs I am in japan for. That and not go to jail a very real concern.

I am using my normal cover, which is that I am a high end auto mechanic and I am in japan to start my own business. Well that's what my work visa said anyway. In the last month I had setup a complete workshop and a flat to live in. Then I had the wait for the shipping container that had come from the states to arrive. So for the last few weeks, I have been getting acquainted with my new surroundings. as well as the task of sorting out an employer and meeting fixers that I had been put into contact, with and generally playing at tourist.

The Shipping container is full of all my tools of both trades. From spanners and welding gear, to my favoured weapons from the FN family notably the 5.7mm P90 and five seven pistol. Both silenced and loud that I uses for CQC work. My longer ranged kit is an L96 silenced sniper rifle and a HK417 7.62 battle rifle with a few spare barrels to get me started in japan for the first few jobs. I do have other weapons with me but I can go into that later.

Thankfully the container gets a once over and go's through the checks with port authority's with minimal problems, that fixer is a keeper, I thought to myself. Other than having to pay some import tax, (see even a hitman has to pays his tax) on some of my tools that where of a high value.

However thank the gods, that it was not to deep a search and that the false floors and hidden compartments in the cases and tool boxes, were not found, where my other professions tools sat contained. Or I would be going to jail now and this would have been one short story.

I got to my workshop and started the task of unpacking. Moving the boxes and containers, to the work benches and tool areas of the shop.

Finally unpacking some of the more hidden items after the doors were shut, into their own little room I had set up. By the time I was complete it was 2am and more than time for bed. But instead of going home I spent it sleeping on a camp cot in my office. I had been up since 4am waiting for that bloody container, so I was tired and the camp cot looked to inviting so fuck it.

The next day I slept in till 10 and switch on the daily doom and gloom. The news was full of some kind of outbreak of civil unrest that had griped the nation. Grate I get here only for the bloody place to have a revolution was my thoughts as I turned on the kettle and put some bread in the toaster not paying too much attention.

Later that day, as I had decided to carry on unpacking and not open the shop, the news was becoming more and more odd, With panic reporters running to and fro showing scenes of general unrest and chaos as well as full on riots. "Looks like I am spending the night here again" I huffed as I listened so some of the news and commotion outside.

During the course of the whole day the news had gone from civil unrest, to terrorist attack, to murders diseases. However that evening it had gone to full on potato… with wild speculation form this is the end, to prepare the sacrificial virgins. Ok so maybe not the last part but it felt not too far off.

Things that did get my interest though, was a report were some bodies in body bags sat up now that was just creepy, the sight gave me one of those someone walked on my grave types of shivers. Then the reporter was attacked just what in the world of fuck is happening out there.

The last bit of advice was to stay in your homes well that seams a good idea to me. moving over to the doors of my business I checked that they were all secure then went over to my store room that my weapons were in not like I was going to do much with them other than defend myself if it came to it.

I was planning to stay here for as long as I could. Little did I know however that fate would give me a big fuck off biscuit to that idea?