Disclaimer: Glee belongs to Fox
Warnings:
Please take note that in this story, Blaine and a few of the ex-Warblers are assassins so there will be murders involved. OCs have been created to play the role of their 'victims' so there's no major character deaths (or at least, I've yet to write any), but this story will still contain murder and death scenes even though they will not be too sanguinary.
Stepping out of the sleek black sedan, Blaine looked at the glass building with distaste. Adjusting his tie, he stepped through the automatic doors and gave a receptionist a tired smile.
"Mister Anderson is on the twentieth floor. He says that he wishes to speak to you about new proposals for the expansion."
Blaine simply nodded and gave her a charming "thank you". Entering the lift, his finger hovered over the metallic button engraved with the number twenty before he pressed down on it heavily and glared at the name plate beside it.
President's Office
Authorized Personnel Only
The doors opened much too soon and Blaine felt all hopes of escaping, all hopes of turning away and returning to his husband's arms fade when Jeff's face came into view.
"You didn't need to take the trouble to pick me up."
"I wanted to. It's less daunting walking down these corridors with someone familiar and friendlier. So, you're back from your one day-"
"Half day."
"You're being an ass. Fine, so you're back from your half-day vacation and romantic rendezvous with Kurt. How did it go?"
"It was perfect until some idiot with strange looking hair called me. Honestly Jeff, letting him wait another three hours wouldn't kill him."
"Daddy dearest may not die, but I will. Oh look, we're here. Good luck."
With a pat on Blaine's back, Jeff turned and headed back towards the lift, leaving Blaine feeling quite alone as he stood in front of the large wooden doors.
Just as he reached for the bell, the doors swung open to reveal a bespectacled, stern-looking yet stunning lady whose features softened a little when she saw Blaine.
"Good afternoon, Charlotte."
She nodded but did not reply. Stepping aside, she quickly closed the doors once Blaine stepped into the room.
There, near the east end of the large room was a mahogany desk that held no pictures, no trophies or anything else to give anyone a hint of who the man seated behind it might be.
Apart from his slightly smaller stature, there was no resemblance between Edgar Anderson and Blaine Anderson-Hummel.
No attempts at formalities were made. The cold man simply threw a thin folder on the table and Blaine picked it up without sparing his father a glance.
Edgar was staring out the window when Blaine broke the silence.
"She's a kid."
He didn't turn around and simply gave a monotonous reply, "I know."
"You want me to kill a child."
Finally, Edgar looked at Blaine and stood up.
"A job is a job. That's nine hundred thousand dollars into the bank once she's dead."
Blaine closed the folder and matched his father's gaze, determined to keep the tremor out of his voice as he spoke evenly, "She's eight. She's an innocent elementary school student, not some whore who tore a rich bloke's family apart. There's no reason for her to die."
There was a pause and Edgar spoke with finality, "Nine hundred thousand. Don't forget the agreement we had, Blaine. If you want me to keep Kurt and his family away from all this, you'll do as I say."
With that, the conversation was over. Blaine found himself standing outside Edgar's office, his jaws and fists trembling with rage. Taking the stairs down to the nineteenth floor, he walked into a room where another seven men were waiting for him.
Taking one look at him, David stood up from the armchair and made his way over.
"Hey, what happened?"
Shoving the folder into David's chest, Blaine lowered himself into an empty seat.
"You're kidding."
He shot David a dirty look as the eight of them sat around the table in his office.
"Chloe June Montfort. She turned eight in November and she's the daughter of some dude who owns a petroleum refining company."
Thad was scanning through the folder, reading out random facts to anyone who was listening. No one dared to speak as they stared at the picture of their next target lying in the middle of the table.
Nick gripped his pants and stuttered, "Blaine…we can't do this. If we do succeed, I'll…I'll never be able to look at myself again."
Blaine buried his face in his hands and felt the expectant stares of everyone around him. He was their leader. He was the reason they were dragged into this in the first place. He was the reason they spent their post-graduation trip learning how to kill.
"Where's Kurt?" Sebastian's voice sliced through the stiff silence like a knife and they gave him varying looks of confusion.
"He's waiting for me, for us to come home."
The effect Kurt had on the ex-Warblers was immediate. He was the only one in their tight-knit group that continued to live a normal life, and they struggled to protect that normality.
With a bang of the gravel, Wes announced, "Well, this meeting is adjourned until further notice. Let's get to work."
"I can't believe you kept that gravel. Do you sleep with it as well?"
"Jeffrey, you'll be helping me during target practice."
Sebastian gave Jeff a slap on the back and sniggered, "You're in deep shit."
Kurt had just picked up the pencil and started on a rough sketch of the evening gown when he was interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. Mercedes did not wait for a reply before pushing it open and poking her head through the gap.
"White boy, you're supposed to be on a one-day break."
Setting the pencil back on the desk, Kurt gestured for Mercedes to take a sit. As soon as she was settled down, he leaned back heavily on the armchair and muttered, "I know, but Blaine had to get back to work and I was alone in that big house."
Looking at him sympathetically, Mercedes struggled to find something to say.
"Mercedes, there's nothing to worry about. This just leaves us more time for our lady chats."
"My door's always open if you're looking for some company."
Kurt gave Mercedes a grateful smile. After high school, she had surprised him by following him to Parsons to study fashion and design in New York. Now, nearly seven years after they graduated from McKinley, they were best friends and colleagues.
"Before I forget, some lady by the name of Irene Maya wants to see you. I heard that she's getting married next month."
Glancing at the clock, Kurt noted that it was three o'clock. Hoping that Blaine remembered to have his lunch, Kurt gathered his things and stood up.
Hooking her arm around his, the duo made their way to the lobby where a young blonde was seated in one of the purple chairs.
"Congratulations on your upcoming wedding."
The lady gave Kurt a faint smile and crossed her legs elegantly. Trying to make small talk, Kurt continued, "So will you be changing your last name when you get married?"
Tucking a strand behind her ear with perfectly manicured fingers, Irene Maya replied, "Maybe I will. Irene Montfort has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"
After Kurt gave her a polite nod, she folded her hands and laid them on her knee. "Well Mister Anderson-Hummel, let's not waste too much time. I'll be marrying someone with a…significant social status, to say the least, and will be attending an important ceremony with him in three months. I need a black gown that will live up to the occasion."
Flipping his planner open, Kurt began jotting down notes as the future Missus Irene Montfort gave him more details of her ideal ceremonial dress.
"So, Chloe's dad will be getting married next month and she has to be dead in two and a half months, no more, no less."
Trent continued scrolling down the fifty-page document with a frown. Looking through your targets' personal documents was always hard, especially when it seemed that there was no real reason for anyone to want them dead.
Nick pushed himself up from the carpeted floor he was lying on and bit his lip.
"Blaine…?"
Blaine tore his eyes away from the pile of photographs strewn across the table and looked at Nick expectantly. Nick hesitated for a brief moment, wringing his fingers nervously.
"I…I know that we're doing this to protect Kurt, and you know that I'll do anything for all of you, but is there a way out of this? I mean…we've been working for your dad for almost four years and I should have gotten used to it, but sometimes I just want us to go back to before."
Blaine tensed and Thad immediately sprung up, "Look, Blaine, there's no need to stress over it. We'll just get the job done and you'll do what you need to do. You'll definitely figure a way-"
"I don't know."
Thad froze in mid-sentence and looked at Blaine stupidly.
"What?"
"I'm working on it, but I honestly don't know how to break away. My family has been in this for generations and my father has been keeping me on a tight leash. I have nothing to work against him while he has Kurt."
The last time they held this discussion was two years ago after an order came in for them to end a fellow Dalton alumna's family. The discussion was long and tensed, resulting in three broken cups and a stained couch. It was something that was always at the back of their minds, but no one wanted to speak about it.
"Look, this whole thing is fucked up okay? But we'll work things out. Now let's put our pea-brains together and figure a way to get this job done. I don't know about you, but I'm going to try my best to keep Kurt away from all this shit or die trying."
There was an awkward silence as everyone stared at Jeff in awe.
"I never knew that you were so wise."
Throwing a cushion in Trent's direction, Jeff tried to hide the blush that was making its way up his collar and coloring his cheeks.
Before he knew what was happening, Blaine found himself in the middle of a tight group-hug made up of eight fully-grown men. The air was getting squeezed out of his lungs but he didn't want to let go.
"In the words o' Jeff the Brilliant, we'll 'get this shit done'. Chloe studies at Bethany's School, a private school for girls. So Blaine, what are your orders?" David finally managed to ask after untangling himself and dusting his suit.
"We'll meet there next Tuesday at two. I know that she's our next target, but she's a child and I want to at least grant her a peaceful death."
Loosening his tie, Blaine straightened himself and waved the group away.
"I'll take care of the rest. You guys deserve a break."
As the ex-Warblers left, Blaine turned to look at the framed portrait on the table. It was a simple picture of the ex-Warblers and previous members of the New Directions who had gathered together after their high school graduation ceremonies.
It was a simple photograph that held the smiles he could never get back.
It was the smiles they had before that night when they were dragged into a world of blood, money and lies.
A/N: Thank you for reading! If there's any advice you'd like to give me or anything you'd like to share, please leave a review, PM or drop me a message on Tumblr or Livejournal (my username remains the same).
Thank you for the lovely reviews!
To Holding On To You: Thanks for the tip! I'll keep it in mind. I'm trying to stick to consistent updates every 2-4 days (I hope that's alright with everyone) or at the very most weekly/bi-weekly when the exams start (School hasn't started yet, so that will probably only happen 2-3 months from now). Changing POVs is also a really great idea. I'll try to add it into future chapters. Oh, and I don't mind long reviews at all. Thank you for taking the trouble to write them.
