Chapter 2

Murcia, Spain, Nine years ago

Isabella Azarola had a perfect life. She had just started studying in high school, she loved her boyfriend more than anything, and her family lived in an expensive villa. They were growing olives, and her father was a successful businessman. Young Isabella didn't know how her father had become rich in such a short time but she never suspected anything. In reality, her father was a drug lord. All his fortune was based upon selling drugs, and getting protection money from local companies by blackmailing and threatening them. He appeared to be an honest man, but below the surface he was a monster. And because of this, somebody hired a hit on him. It was a lovely Sunday morning in May. His father was leaving for work. Isabella waved to him from the window and then it happened.

A car drove past the driveway and someone shot from the moving car. Her father collapsed and died, right in front of her eyes. She would never forget that image. Never. And that moment changed her life permanently. Isabella swore that she would find the people behind her father's death. After years of searching, she stumbled upon a file that explained everything. An organization called "The International Contract Agency" or just "ICA" was connected to the murder of her beloved father. From that point on she had only one goal: The complete destruction of "The ICA".

Achilles Labs, London, Present day

Project manager Anthony Moor was staring at his computer screen. He was tired but he had to keep working. He took a quick sip of coffee from his mug and then turned around. His secretary was standing next to him. "Man, this shit is straight from a 50's science fiction movie. Cloning is common these days, but resurrecting a dead person with cloning? Come on that sounds ridiculous!". "Maybe. But if this thing succeeds, we're going to be famous. Imagine how the whole science world is going to talk about our achievements for the next few decades. And with miss Azarola's generous funding, we can publish our work very soon." Moor stated. "Have you forgotten who these people are? Miss Azarola is on FBI's most wanted list. She is a fucking contract killer! A hardcore criminal! Do you really think that she's letting us publish our test results just like that? And she's hired a fucking army of thugs just to ensure our security during this project!" The secretary shouted and seemed to be very nervous. "Control yourself! We just do our jobs as promised, we complete the project, and she'll reward us. I'm sure of it. But if you keep spitting out nonsense like that, she's gonna hang you from your balls. And that's sure. You've seen what she does when she gets really angry. Don't piss her off. Seriously." Moor concluded, trying to calm his secretary down. "Allright. I'm going to take a little break now." The secretary said. He turned around and almost tripped over as he noticed Isabella standing behind him.

"Oh Hi miss Azarola. We we're just talking about you." Isabella grabbed the secretary's neck and held him in a stranglehold. "I know. But I think you don't remember who's in charge here, so I will remind you." She took a folding knife from her pocket, and held the blade close to the secretary's face. So close that it was touching his chin. "Oh God. Please stop. I don't want to die. I'm sorry. I…I promise I'm going to work more and talk less from now on." "Good boy." Isabella released him. He was gasping and his face turned white. "So how's the project going? Is everything on schedule?" "Yes miss Azarola. Everything is going according to plan. Here's a memo of everything we've done." Moor handed a notebook to Isabella. Isabella smiled as she read through the text. The memo described their cloning project in detail:

Name: Mark Parchezzi IV

Attributes: Increased physical strength, stronger than any known human. Increased intelligence and endurance. Capable of using any weapon without training.

Status: In progress

Notes: DNA of the deceased Mark Parchezzi III has been used in the project. Posesses the memories of Mark Parchezzi III.

"Great work. Keep me posted." Isabella left, leaving Moor to continue his work.

Parliament Street, London

Carl Norfolk was an important English politician. He wanted everyone to have equal rights. And he believed that education is the most valuable thing that one could give to another. Norfolk had no idea what would happen to him today. He walked along the parliament street, reading a newspaper. He stopped occasionally to check his constantly beeping phone. Isabella Azarola watched him through the scope of a dragunov sniper rifle. She had chosen a perfect spot for this job. A window high above the street, unvisible to most people. She equipped the rifle with a silencer. As she concentrated on her target, she felt something. It was the thrill of the chase. She always felt good when she was stalking her helpless prey. She squeezed the trigger. And Norfolk was dead, splattering blood all over the city. "Brutal but effective" Isabella thought as she hid the rifle inside her briefcase and left the building.

She took a spray can and painted the words "Merces Letifer" on the street. When she heard the sirens of approaching police cars, she left the scene.

Chelsfield, London

Agent 47 exited his car and locked the doors. He had arrived to Chelsfield, a town located just outside the city of London. Despite the fact that the city was located nearby, 47 could clearly see that this was countryside. No high apartment blocks, just fields, lots of green trees, and charming, big country houses. 47 heard a bleep. He picked up his cellphone screen. A text message. It said: " Meet me inside the Saint Martin of Tours." 47 put away the phone and started walking. He stopped at the blue sign next to the road. "St. Martin of Tours. Perfect." 47 thought and stepped through the open gate. He walked along the beautiful road, covered by dozens of long, old trees on the right. And some smaller trees on the left. After some time of walking he arrived to his destination. St. Martin of Tours.

This old stone church was probably built in the early 12th century. Its medieval appearance was a sight to behold, a stone structure that has stood still for a thousand years, like a rock. 47 stepped through the half-open door and saw a man sitting on the bench, staring towards the altar. The church was otherwise empty. "These are sad times. That politician Carl Norfolk was murdered earlier today. And the cops found proof that The Agency is responsible for it. I suspect someone is trying to frame you." The man said with a quiet voice. "As you remember, I don't work for The Agency anymore. It's not my problem." Agent 47 said with an annoyed tone. "You're not safe 47. Nobody is. The same group that's trying to destroy The Agency, they're after you as well. And you can't hide from them." "I see. You know much, Smith. Maybe too much for your own good." Agent Smith thought a while before he replied. "It's my duty to know. After you rescued me so many times, I realized that I had been reckless. I took a new direction in my life. And now I'm selling information to you. As a kind of favor." "Hmm. Tell me about Mr. Wyle." 47 murmured. "That creep who shot himself? He was an agency operative once. Like you. One of the best. Then, back in 2005, he jumped after The Franchise offered him a better deal. He was also interested in cloning technology. Crazy guy if you ask me. When you killed Parchezzi and all the leading figures of The Franchise back in 2005-2006, Mr. Wyle got away. And he took several DNA samples with him. Apparently, he also stole a copy of their cloning manual."

"He started to make clones?" "Yes. Most of them were failures. But then he teamed up with a notorious contract killer, Isabella Azarola. They both shared a hatred for The Agency, which is why they established a criminal organization known as Burning Dawn. I don't know what they're planning but seems like they have a some sort of secret cloning lab somewhere." "I have to stop them. They're using the DNA to make an army of genetically altered super soldiers." "How do you know?" Smith asked. "I know, because Ort-Meyer did the same thing with me and my brothers." Smith felt uncomfortable and stopped talking. That name always gave him cold chills.

Achilles Labs, London

Mark Parchezzi opened his eyes. He had a headache. He raised his fist and angrily smashed the glass to pieces with one hit. The water flooded out like a tsunami. He ripped of the oxygen mask from his face. He looked around and saw several people standing around him, staring at him with a mixture of fear and respect. Then a black haired woman approached him. "Welcome back. I am Isabella." The woman reached out with her hand, apparently wanting to shake hands with him. Parchezzi didn't even look at her. Then he remembered something: A bald man came to him. He tried to escape. The bald man came after him and started shooting. And the bald man killed him. Parchezzi's mind returned back to reality and he gazed at the people gathered around him. Parchezzi roared and screamed angrily. "47. BRING ME 47. I WANT HIS HEAD!"