Prologue

Thursday, 14th of December, around ten o'clock in the night. Location: downtown Graz, Austria. For hours she'd been laying on the roof of a building, far away from where her target was. But there was a window, just large enough to see through the scope.

„See 'im?"

Her handler, a tall red-headed man with distinguished sideburns was disguised as a staff member of the opera. He was in the same room as her target and told her where her target was sitting.

„Of course. Leave it to me."came her curt, emotionless answer.

„Good luck, 56."

The assassin took a deep breath and pulled the trigger.

For one second nothing happened – and then all hell broke loose. The audience was staring in awe at the stage during Beethoven's ninth Symphony. The iconic big bang sounded through the opera when one of the guests fell out of his seat in the first row, struck by a shot through the head. The man was dead in an instant. There was no sign of the killer in the audience nor the close vicinity of the crime scene.

The victim, Edward Fornicle, had been an influential member of the financial scene in New York City. His climb to the top of the ladder wasn't entirely... undoubted. Most people assumed he bribed officials to get to his position – also, many people connect him to the mysterious death of three competitors. On the surface, he was a loving family father who had a fable for classic cars and was very fond of good drinks and food, particularly scotch and steak respectively. He also adored the great minds of the Viennese classic. Of course, when he heard about the world-renowned Vienna Symphony Orchestra would be visiting Austria's second largest city and bring glory to Beethoven's unforgettable movements, he couldn't resist to book a flight.

But alas, his visit to Graz should be the last thing he ever did – in his home, he seemed to have made the wrong friends and right foes, rivals and politicians alike. They wanted him dead. And dead he was. When the people surrounding him realized that much and saw the blood pooling around his head, they started to scream and storm out of the room in panic.

"Nice shot. Get the hell out of there, I don't know how but it's already buzzing with the fuzz. I'll leave it to your creative mind. Stay safe."

"Will do. See you then." She turned off her ear-plug. 56 was on her own now. She closed her eyes for a second to gather her thoughts before recalling her three rules. Rules that saved her butt more times one could count and got her to the position of one of The Company's top assassins.

Rule number one – don't get spotted.

Well, this rule wasn't particularly hard to follow. Quickly moving away from her shooting position, the blonde haired woman deconstructed her muffled sniping rifle and hid the parts in an unused ventilation shaft. Her location was the roof of an uninhibited house that was currently being renovated. She took the logical way down – the scaffolding. Her suit was skin tight, which allowed fast, precise and, most importantly, almost silent movements since there was almost no cloth that could wrinkle audibly or anything like that.

After hitting the floor of a dark, tight alley way, she saw exactly what she needed – a female police officer, roughly estimated to be her size but with a wider, sturdier frame. It didn't matter, the Uniform would fit – just so, but it would. Now, Austrian police officers weren't all that known for fast arrival in her line of work, but there was a lot of them stationed outside, since the premiere of this particular arrangement was being visited by leading people from across the world.

Checking the situation and relying on her experience, the assassin silently picked up an empty bottle – there was a lot of them around the garbage container nearby. Beer and builders – an inseparable couple.

Aiming carefully, she threw the bottle into a corner with as much force as possible. The glass shattered audible and, exactly as planned, the police officer's voice could be heard.

„The hell? Who's there?" No answer. The lady cop wrinkled her brows before shouting „Cap'n, I'm investigatin' something." over her shoulder. Her colleagues grunted something but didn't join her.

Quickly hiding in the container's shadow, the killer was waiting until the officer had passed her. When the police officer passed the dumpster, the blonde internally cursed – the woman about to be nice enough to lend her her uniform had short cropped brown hair. Even the dumbest moron could figure out that a woman with long, braided blonde hair wasn't the same person as the police officer. And then all hell would break lose – even more than it just started to do. Right now, the first of the opera's guests stormed out, shrieking about a homicide.

My timing is impeccable- she just couldn't keep the sarcasm from her thoughts.

Quickly hatching a plan, the woman separated from the shadows and started to tail her target. Carefully watching her steps through her ballet shoes, the professional killer soon was within arms length to the police woman who just bent down to check out the disturbance. She was utterly unaware of the woman behind her until her neck got wrapped by a strong arm and a gloved hand was pressed against her mouth. The palm of 56's right glove was drenched in chloroform which showed almost immediate effect.

Her muscles flexed in a reaction of her nerves and she tried everything to break free at first, but the woman attacking was stronger and the police officer's body got limp once she had inhaled enough anesthetic. She wasn't dead, merely knocked out for a couple of hours.

Rule number two – no unnecessary casualties.

The alley provided plenty of shadows to change and hide the unconscious woman. Mustering her strength and getting a good hold, the professional heaved the woman on her shoulders. She was heavier than expected, but manageable. The nearby dumpster was going to be the police officer's bed for a while. Thankfully, it didn't take long to don the uniform on herself.

The great thing about having a bodysuit as working clothes was that you could always wear something on top of it and don't have to worry about hiding your garments.

She always felts some sort of pity for the police woman who was lying there, hidden in scraps of paper. Not only would she feel the shame of being overwhelmed by the very criminal she was supposed to catch, no, she would also wake up in her pants and bra, covered in trash. She closed the lid of the dumpster following her last and probably most important rule.

Rule number three – if possible, hide any body.

56 moved to the ladder again, as silently as possible.

"Yo, Tina, found something?"

Shit. Alright, whatever you do, don't fuck this up.

Thankfully, the policeman didn't walk over or else her cover would've been blown the police officer's voice the best she could, she grunted an answer. On a whim, she decided to tell the policeman who called out to her that she was going to check the roof. And she got lucky again – it didn't seem like she was being followed.

Climbing the ladder proved to be annoying - the uniform was at least two numbers larger than her normal clothes, so it slobbered a great deal.

Well, she had to find a way to pass the cops anyway, on roofs or solid ground. Once she was in the middle of the fuzz' main force, she could just meld with the crowd and make her way to somewhere she could hide, but it was still a long way to go. Her new „colleagues" would spot her for sure, but a different batch of cops...

Checking her surroundings, she cursed when she noticed one branch of the alley ending in a place which was now swarming with policemen since it was so close to the crime scene. But then again, that meant that there were now less cops than there were before. The other branch that lead down continued to lead away from the fuzz, but there were some cops stationed as well. Looking around, she found no safe and fast way to get where she needed to be. And time was running low. It wouldn't take all too long for a cop to come looking for the knocked-out officer. And if the cops were no complete idiots, it wouldn't take long to figure them out that the woman on the roof was not a policewoman.

Guess I have no choice. I don't like it, but...

Standing on top of the abandoned building, she thought about taking her rifle with her before it would be found. Though, most likely, not too long after she was gone and the number of police officers had somewhat thinned out, one her Company's people would come and pick up the tool. Hell, he or she most likely was already blend in with the police and watched her step to know where she hid the weapon.

The assassin meanwhile walked up to the roof edge and took of the glove on her right hand.

She was a gifted individual. Some weird genetic mutation gave her temporary control over ice. To be exact, she could materialize ice, and it's various shapes and appearances from her hands. She could also instantly disassemble the crystals, causing the ice to disappear again if she so wished. While this gift made her one of the, if not the best, at what she did, her power came with a few downsides – immense fatigue, extraordinaire hunger that could only be allayed by chocolate, and an insane headache, which kicked in around one hour after she used her supernatural ability. These downsides were the reason she very much preferred to do things the classic way. She herself saw her control over the cold element as her ace-in-the hole, and used it as such – once every dozen contracts, if at all.

Standing on the roof edge, she carefully squatted down and put her bare right on the cold stone of the wall. When the first crystals started to appear on the surface, she took her hand off the wall and did a slow and sweeping gesture to the wall across the urban canyon. When the connection was established, she closed her hand into a tight fist, solidifying the ice and thus making it capable of bearing her weight. The assassin had to keep her hand clenched together all the time or the crystals would lose their tight connection again, so the balance act across the drop was going to be a slow and careful one - she had to watch her step, be careful about making noise and keep her concentration on her summoned ice as well all the time.

„Alright, here goes."

With delicate steps she started walking down the icy path. She added an attribute to her, as she called it, central, in her head which commanded the ice to be a bit rough in hopes her grip would improve. Still, ice being ice, it was slippery business – she might have control over ice, but nevertheless she lost to nature's laws.

She was halfway across the way when she heard noises from down below.

Fucking hell.

The hit man had messed up her timetable – the cops had already found the woman in the dumpster. Granted, she was gone way to long to just look for the source of a shattered bottle. The commanding police officer was barking orders and, savvy from years of experience, told his colleagues to keep an eye open for someone unfamiliar walking around in a police uniform. Matters got worse when she heard the voice of the policeman from before.

"She's on the roof!"

The sniper hurried her steps. When she was close enough, she jumped off the ice bridge, opened her fist, causing the ice to lose a lot of it's tension. Next, she pulled off her left glove and smacked her bare skin against the ice. Usually, she had to put it on the ice slowly to melt it after a few seconds. However, she recently discovered that, when she smacked her palm on he surface and applied pressure, the ice would shatter.

There were no policeman under the bridge, all were swarmed out, looking for her. She shattered the bridge and it came crushing down onto the alley from. Screams of surprise and shock were heard, granting the assassin hopefully enough time to get off the roof and mingle with the people on the main street before looking for a hideout for the next days.

She looked down the roof on the streets from her new point of view. It didn't take her long to figure out where she needed to head. She started walking on the rooftops, fast but silent. The assassin got worried though when she had to cross a copper roof – when you had to deal with metal, it was tough to be silent. Luckily though, there was no police nearby. Various of the buildings she was walking on had connections to inner yards, but many of them were sealed off – however, she knew of one that had no gate. The buildings enclosing this space belonged to various shops and a doctor. But most importantly, there was a tree that she could use to climb down on. The courtyard was open to towards the streets as well. 56 stopped when she was sure no one was following her anymore and took off the police uniform before continuing to head for her target.

The city was alive, even late in the evening – or especially lively for it was the start of weekend. Graz was a city with good universities and students loved to celebrate, so there were plenty of people roaming the streets. The noise and chattering from a dozen nearby clubs and pubs could be heard. The assassin still ran along on the roofs, but took a look around. She couldn't help but resist a smile on the perspective of spending a few days in this city until things had cooled off and she would meet her handler for her next assignment. It was quite a lovely city with a unique charm.

Her concentration snapped back on escaping safely though when she found the yard she had in mind. She'd been there once in the night already, depositing a new outfit for plan B – which she ended up using. Glancing down if there was somebody, she saw no one - the coast was clear. The tree was standing in the center of the small area. Taking a few steps back, the assassin started to run and jumped off the roof edge. She caught one of the stronger branches and instantly started to climb down. She was well out of the danger zone of immediate police contact for now.

She hit the ground and dusted her skintight suit off, using a nearby shop window as mirror.

56 sighed in relieve when she found the bag she hid the day before. In it was a pullover and sweatpants along with sneakers. When she threw them on, she looked like as if she was merely out for a late jog. There were other clothes and things such as shower gel and toothpaste for daily life in it – she'd be needing them for her staying.

Her platinum blonde hair was still strictly braided backwards and had almost no loose strands. The assassin's eyes were as blue as the ice she could summon. Her cheekbones were rather high, though her cheeks were round and soft, giving the impression of a normal, very beautiful young girl – which she essentially was, except for her profession, prowess with hand-to-hand combat and guns and total lack of social life.

Content with her looks, she took the bag with her, left the yard and entered one of Graz' main streets. Some police was roaming this city in the evening. Graz had a very pretty surface, but beneath it were lots of bands of thieves, drug deals, break-ins and domestic violence. The police did a pretty well job to keep the city relatively safe nevertheless though.

She walked down the old town, not paying much attention to her surroundings. She could go sightseeing all she wanted the next days. Her goal was the main square. She'd get on one tramway leading to the central station – there was a hotel nearby known for being rather popular with travelers.

She passed people who were chatting and laughing, many of them young and obviously drunk. Even in the open air, some of them had a decent smell of alcohol. Many of them, most likely students, were talking in English or other foreign languages – like the rest of Austria, Graz was rather multicultural, whether it wanted to be or not. Some of the lads shot her a glance and she attracted one or two whistles due to her beauty, but she paid them no heed. She stopped next to the station. The tramway didn't take long to appear. It was a modern vehicle and almost empty.

The assassin entered and a mechanical voice appeared and confirmed that she was, indeed, on the right train. The train started moving and the city passed her.

Before she knew it, she'd arrived at a railway station which, while very well thought out and designed, clashed horribly with the renaissance city due to it's modernity. She got off the train and headed up the nearby stairs – the actual stops for tramways were subterranean while those for buses were on the surface. The central station was a turntable for both local public transport, regional transport and international trains. It also hosted various shops, obviously aimed at travelers.

Leaving the moving staircase, the hit man headed to the left on a deserted walkway for a few dozen meters until she stood in front of the hotel she was aiming for. It seemed average on the outside, but due to the proximity to Graz' main traffic hub, it was nevertheless well frequented.

When she entered the building, she was surprised that nobody besides her and an obviously bored clerk were present. Then again, it was in the middle of night on a Friday evening, of course no one would roam the lobby of the hotel they were staying in. He was reading a magazine but looked like he was about to fall asleep when the assassin walked up to him. He turned his attention to her, blinked a few times and turned his head down again.

„How can I be of service to you?" His German was laden with a very thick Austrian accent. Luckily, her instructors back in her starting days had been very knowledgeable. She spoke almost a dozen languages and was able to translate many dialects to their respective standard language.

„I'd like to have a room for a few days, please." She didn't bother to cover up that German wasn't her mother's tongue. She had a slight Scandinavian accent which made her German sound a bit weird.

„40 bucks a day. How long?" Now that she was closer to the desk, the clerk looked at her with more attention now – after all, it wasn't everyday that a Scandinavian hottie was standing in front of this middle-aged man.

„Let's say five days for now. Oh, and please – I value my privacy. Tell your charwomen not to clean my room. I'm ready to pay more if necessary." Her tone was polite, though she put emphasis on the word privacy. The Clerk didn't miss the intonation. He eyed her carefully, but she held his glance with frosty eyes. In the end, he just shrugged and turned around.

„Whatever. Room's the first on right once you get off the elevator. Third floor. Need anything, just call." He handed her the keys to her room.

„As a matter of fact, there is already something you can do for me – Is there, by chance, a guide to this city? I'm here for some sightseeing and want to see the charms of the city."

„Sure is. It's already in the room. For some reason, this right here is a fairly popular hotel for travelers." He shrugged again and continued to read his papers.

She thanked the clerk and walked over to the elevators. The elevator was already at ground floor. The assassin got into the cabin and pressed the button for the third floor. Getting into motion, the cabin rattled before moving upwards. As soon as the door opened with a bing sound, 56 stepped out of the cabin, headed to the door lettered with 3 and entered her room. She closed the door before losing her cool all of a sudden, charged to the mini bar and almost tore off the door closing the small fridge.

She overcast the side effects of her supernatural abilities as soon as they hit her since she was still on the job, but now she almost died from hunger while fighting the strong urge to vomit due to the severity of her headache.

Searching frantic, she found some chocolate in the mini bar. Not nearly enough to cover up – for the time being however, she had to be happy with what she got. Ripping the wrapping off the chocolate bars, she shoved them down her throat as soon as possible. 56 plopped on the floor, leaned back against the bed and started to rub her temples with her left hand. Her right scrabbled in her bag in search for very strong headache pills. The hit man threw in two at a time and swallowed them with a swig of water when the phone in her bag ran.

"Excellent Job, Elsa. Our client was very pleased." Her chef was on the phone. He was a man she'd never seen before and never ever want to meet in person. She killed for him, he paid her. That was all.

" 'course heis. I was the hit man." Elsa really didn't have the nerve to deal with him so she made it short.

"Your payment had been transferred to your account. You have four days off, enjoy them – but be prepared. The next target is an acquaintance of ours."

"You tell me to kill, I kill. Who is it?" Despite her professional words, she tensed. Personal jobs were never good – or easy to pull off.

"Your handler. He left the country without my consent, took something precious from me and now is in hiding. Of course we already know where he is. Get him."

"Isn't killing him a bit much...?"

"Kill him. He endangers me, The Company, even you. You will get to him, you will kill him and you will bring me back what is mine. Are we clear, miss Frost? You know I can have you erased if I need to – just as we need to erase Hans Black. You or him – you have no freedom to decline."

"...I do your bidding."

The connection cut off. Elsa's headache intensified. Her handler, Hans, was most likely the only thing she had that resembled something of a friend or a confidante. But if he betrayed The Company, for whatever reason, he had to die – to protect The Company and Elsa herself.

The young woman got up, headed for the bathroom and undressed. She needed to clear her head and get ready. And water, the colder the better, always helped her ease her headaches.

Her name was Elsa Frost, codename 56. She was an Assassin.

"Hans! Tell me this instant – WHERE ARE WE GOING?"

"Somewhere safe, Anna. Trust me."

"it's not easy to trust someone who speeds down a highway at a hundred eighty miles an hour!"

They raced down the highway. Hans pushed his black Aston Martin to the limits, the V12 screeching at well over 7000 RPM. He had it all planned out. He knew that Elsa was coming for him. But to prevent Anna from damage, to have a life similar to Elsa, she had to disappear. Anna and him would hide for a few days before Elsa would come to kill him. But he knew her better than anybody. She would ask him why he betrayed The Company. He would tell her, and be able to convince her to take Anna to safety. He knew Elsa was sick of killing people. Both of them could have a new life. It all started a while ago. He always knew he was Anna's brother, a lot older than her but still her brother.. She, however, didn't know who he was.

In fact, it was him to blame for her situation. Him, who was so stupid to slip her name once. He was out and drinking when he slipped her name. They came to pick her up from the orphanage the same night. And last year he had been diagnosed with terminal lung cancer – at the age of merely thirty-five. He decided to sort everything out before he kicked the bucket. And hey, better be killed quickly than die slowly and miserably in the hospital.

"I won't let them lay their insane fingers on you any more. You suffered enough already with them experimenting on you."

The redhead was startled. She always got along fairly well with the handsome man, but she never knew he cared so much about her. He was right, she had suffered. Brutal training and medical experiments where the norm for her, but she got used to it. The Company got a hold of her when she was merely twelve years old and endured the abuse for six years already. However, she would not get used to the idea of Hans sacrificing himself to give her a change to disappear.

"Hans. Stop right now. You're going to die, they will send someone after you."

"I already am dead. Just know – 56 will protect you from The Company."

He floored the accelerator some more and the British car went even faster.

A/N:
Well, I just felt like writing something different, something more (potentially)... sinister?

I had the idea for a while now, ever since I played Dishonored and hit man:Absolution (that one was obvious tho, wasn't it? With the codename and all). I just loved these games and have a thing for stories around assassins for starters, so yeah. Also, I know there's some great great crime-Fanfics (Stolen Ice for example is epic), but an Assassin!Elsa one? Dunno, haven't seen one yet.

In any case, I hope you enjoyed it, if you did, please please PLEASE review! Don't worry, I won't stop with The Nerd and The Fitness Nut, but I just had a pretty... meh week at work and yeah, want something different.

See you guys, thanks for the reviews, follows and favorites beforehand :P

Oh and... sorry, couldn't resist the location *blushes*
Saro

PS: 56 = EF = Elsa Frost if you look at the alphabet and it's corresponding numbers.