Disclaimer: I don't own Fire Emblem

The False Friend Job
Part II

Ylisstol: The Holy Church of Naga
Claude Trematir

Claude eyed his target from his pew. The priest watched the man carefully from behind his prayer book, planning his next move.

Claude wasn't the type to ask lots of questions as to why some of his targets were being targeted. It usually wasn't too hard to figure out, and often the criminals confessed to him in the face of death, trying to atone for their actions.

The man of Naga always felt extreme guilt at the irony of the situation.

But it was his job. Naga had given him these gifts, so Claude chose to use them. To stop those who desecrated the beautiful life Naga had given them, Claude was a YIA agent. One who generally was in charge of disposing of many people.

Claude stilled his breathing as he tried to overhear what the man was saying in his whispered praying. Brother Libra was usually better at getting close to a mark. Claude had to rely on his hearing, which from all the gunshots and explosions over the years wasn't the best.

And now he was sounding like an old man.

The yellow haired priest had seen this type before. He was the kind that knew he was going to die, and came to pray as if that would get him into heaven. One could tell from the nervous twitching, the eyes that were shut so hard it hurt, and the occasional whimper.

As much as he tried, Claude couldn't keep his judgmental thoughts under control. The man was pathetic.

Claude stood up quietly and walked over, hands clasped on his prayer book and asked the man, "Is there anything I can do for you, child?"

The man jumped, and if there had been any doubt in Claude's mind, it cleared. The expression on the man's face told it all.

Guilt.

"Father! You startled me… I don't think there's anything you can do," he said, almost remorsefully. Claude had to stop from raising an eyebrow. They usually didn't feel remorse.

Claude frowned, "You look as though you have something heavy weighing on your conscious. Child, would you like me to relieve you of your sins?

The man hesitated, searching Claude's sympathetic face carefully before nodding. The priest motioned for the man to follow him. And the man did so.

"What's your name, child?" Claude said kindly.

"Julian, father," he said.

"A good name," Claude smiled kindly. "This way," he motioned through a door way and a calmer Julian nodded and led the way.

They soon reached the room where a priest would hear the confessor's sins. Claude let Julian enter first out of courtesy and followed in behind him.

Claude brushed aside the curtain that could be used to hide the confessor's identity. He had already seen Julian. And Claude didn't think that the man cared if a priest saw him.

"Father…I'm a bad person," Julian said shakily. At every sound, Julian had been jumping at on the walk to their destination. It didn't escape Claude's notice.

Claude gave an encouraging smile and nodded him on.

"I…was part of the Black Fang. I killed…so many," Julian said with shivers. He rolled up his sleeve on his right arm and displayed a tattoo of a black elegant F. "And now I think someone is coming after me."

Claude reached down to the ground to retrieve his prayer book he had set down and opened it, cover facing Julian. "Do you regret your involvement, Julian?" Claude asked.

"I…don't know," he said.

Claude nodded in an understanding way. He reached into the cut out area of the hollow book and held a pistol so Julian wouldn't see it. He clicked the hammer back quietly.

Not quietly enough.

Julian heard, and he bolted upright and narrowed his eyes, "What was that? What're you doing?"

Claude kept his composure, as he had done so many times, and said, "I'm relieving you of your sins, child."

And Claude pointed the silenced gun at Julian's face and shot him.

Julian crumpled to the floor without a sound.

Claude looked away from distaste. Just because he had the skill to kill didn't mean he enjoyed it.

Claude was putting away the pistol as he heard his phone ring. Sighing, he picked it up. Recognizing the number, he said, "I'm busy, Frederick."

"I need your help. My Mastermind got landed in prison. And we need a priest in order to get to him. None of us fit the bill."

Claude sighed with a slight chuckle, "You'll owe me, got that? Give me thirty minutes, where are you?"

"The Annamart. And we stopped keeping track of how many times I owe you a while ago. And can you try and be here a bit quicker? We'd like to run you down on the plan before heading over there."

Claude snorted, "You may have. I didn't. But it'll be a bit. I have a body to dump."

Ylissean Maximum Security Prison: Employee Lounge
Stahl Donivore

"Is this really necessary?" Stahl asked the police chief.

Gregor shrugged, "Gregor got orders from top brass, 'Faraday must go to maximum security. It's his past record.' When Gregor gets orders like that, Gregor obeys."

"But this guy only murdered someone. And the fingerprints haven't even been analyzed yet. It seems a bit too much," Stahl shrugged. "I mean, I think he did it, but this is a prison for terrorists, serial killers…"

Gregor nodded, "Gregor know the feeling. But you need to know your place, yes? Faraday may have top secret crimes that Gregor doesn't know about, Gregor thinks. You know how all that cloak and dagger business works."

"I suppose… I'll hang around here until we get the fingerprint reading back. If they aren't his, I'll let him go," said Stahl. "He kept going on about how he was set up."

Gregor nodded with approval, "Gregor is going to go see what Gregor can dig up. Even Gregor is a bit suspicious about this one."

Stahl sighed and sat down on a chair in the employee lounge. It was going to be a long night.

And he was going to need a muffin.

Ylissean Maximum Security Prison: Main Entrance
Claude Trematir

"And we're live in three…two…one."

Claude pushed open the doors that led inside the prison. Dressed in his cassock, he drew a few glances within the lobby. The priest walked up to the guard that guarded the door to the actual prison versus the lobby he was in and smiled, "Good evening."

The guard fidgeted awkwardly, "Uh…father, what can I do for you?"

Claude put on a sad look, "It seems one of Naga's flock has led himself astray. I'm here to see Gaius Faraday, he asked for me specifically."

The guard furrowed his eyebrows, "I uh…can't just let anyone through."

Brilliant deduction. And this is why you're a guard.

Claude mentally slapped himself. A servant of Naga doesn't have thoughts like that.

"Child, what is your name?" Claude asked kindly.

"My name is Roy," said the red headed guard.

Claude smiled, but let some sternness into his gaze, "Tell me Roy, do you think a man of Naga would lie? I am here to try and bring a lost soul back on the path of Naga. Nothing more, nothing less."

Roy stared at the floor sheepishly, "Sorry father, you can go through."

Claude patted the young man on the shoulder, "You were just doing your job. And you are very good at it, Naga can't fault you for that."

Roy perked up and looked more confident as Claude walked down the hall.

"The package is on its way," Claude whispered into the com link. "How about the other package?"

"Copy that, the mailman is in route. The route is clear," came Virion's voice. He was acting Mastermind in Gaius' absence.

"Understood," said Claude and he kept walking slowly like a priest would.

Ylissean Maximum Security Prison: Gaius' Cell
Gaius Faraday

Gaius had never had a headache this bad. It felt like he had an RPG exploding in his skull while getting hit by a train.

"Need…sugar," Gaius mumbled. It took too much energy to talk, and it made his head feel worse. Any thinking did. Why did the guards have to take his reserve stash he'd hidden!?

"Child?" there was a knock on his cell. Gaius flipped over in his bed and saw a familiar face.

"I…know you," muttered Gaius, his mind not working properly without sugar.

The priest, judging by his clothes, smiled and nodded, "You asked to see me, remember? And I'm Father Claude. You wanted to try and go back on the path of Naga, right?"

Even in his less than competent state, Gaius could tell when someone was prompting him. "…Thank you for coming father, sorry it took me a little to remember. Prison does strange things to a person. And…I don't want to keep living like this. I want forgiveness."

Claude smiled, knelt, and began praying. Gaius spoke along with him for the parts Claude instructed him to say. At the end of their twenty minute session, Claude gave Gaius his prayer book. "Pray every morning and night. Seek Naga's forgiveness on your own."

Gaius nodded and began to turn away. Then he saw Claude's hand move. He showed five fingers, then swished his hand back and forth in a 'silence' motion and finally tapped the ground with a fist in a span of about three seconds.

Claude stood up, "May Naga be with you, Mr. Faraday."

Gaius smiled back at him.

Ylissean Maximum Security Prison: Security Room
Stahl Donivore

"Who is that?" Stahl demanded, pointing at the priest that had just visited Faraday's cell.

"That's Father Claude," said the security guard with a smile. "He's from the Holy Church of Naga, my church. You know, that big one in central Ylisstol?"

"Who let him through?" Stahl said, watching the man through the camera screens carefully.

"Whoever is on duty at the main doors," shrugged the guard.

"And that is…?" Stahl said, with a bit of urgency.

The guard checked a camera, "Hmm…yep, that's Roy. He's a good kid. Why did you want to know?"

But Stahl just ran out of the room.

Ylissean Maximum Security Prison: Outside
Lissa Caverly

Lissa typed away on her keyboard inside the van, looking at the camera screen she was viewing of Gaius' cell.

"You ready yet?" Virion asked from inside the YIA van.

"…Done. Cameras are set. Eyes are blind," Lissa said. The security guards inside now had a frozen picture of what had been going on the cell. For the past five minutes, Gaius had been lying with his back to the camera, apparently asleep. Now the guards would think Gaius was asleep the entire time during his breakout. Plus she'd gotten clean, peopleless shots for every other security camera.

Virion touched his ear for the com link, "Package has been delivered, receiver is ready. Package two, ETA?"

Lissa took control of the camera that was outside of Gaius' cell and moved it back and forth, making some noise.

Gaius was waiting for it, he jumped up and opened the prayer book Claude had given him. He grabbed something out of it.

Gaius ran to the cell door and pointed two fingers up, waved them in a circle and pointed them at the door.

Lissa sprang the lock on the door. Gaius glanced out of the door of the cell. He began making his way to his left, down the hallway. When he encountered a electronically locked door, he took the tiny chip that had been in the book and stuck it on the side of the key card lock. It deactivated the lock and Gaius ran through the now open door.

"Frederick, are you in position?" Virion spoke.

"ETA two minutes," came his reply.

"You have one minute," Virion said.

Ylissean Maximum Security Prison: Back Hallways
Frederick Quinn

Frederick walked through the back of the prison, when he came upon two guards.

"Hey, you can't be back here!" said the first.

"Well, that's a shame," muttered Frederick, before he threw a right hook at the guard. The man crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

The second guard pulled out his handgun and pointed it at Frederick. The Hitter chuckled, "Big mistake. I don't like guns...and that includes getting them pointed at me." With his left hand, he grabbed the guard's wrist. Quickly finding the pressure point, the guard cried out and dropped the firearm. Frederick pushed the man backward and kicked the man in right kneecap.

The guard fell to the ground in pain just as Frederick threw a punch at the man's solar plexus. Down for the count.

"Don't point guns at me," Frederick said politely.

The door to Frederick's left opened. A familiar face came out.

"What's the plan?" Gaius said as he glanced at the guards with a relaxed gaze.

"Suit up," Frederick said gesturing to the guard's uniforms. They'd attract less attention. "Morgan'll be here soon."

Gaius briefly looked at the two guards, sizing them up, before walking over to the unconscious one and began taking his uniform off him.

Then a ceiling tile fell to the ground. A red headed woman poked her head through with a smile, "'Sup Gaius. Ready to go?"

Frederick watched a brief emotion pass over Gaius' face as he heard Morgan's comment. Then he nodded with a smile, "Let's go."

Ylissean Maximum Security Prison: Security Room
Stahl Donivore

Stahl didn't make it very far on his hunch before he was stopped outside of the security room.

Two people dressed in white lab coats stood before him. One tall with blue hair, one shorter with red hair. The latter was an Anna.

"Detective Donivore, I presume?" said the man with blue hair.

"What is it?" said Stahl impatiently.

"Results from the crime scene," said Anna. She handed him a file folder.

Stahl took it and took off running without even looking at it.

Ylissean Maximum Security Prison: Security Room
Anna Cassidy

"Well that was rather easy," said Anna. "Thanks for your help Sig."

"Anytime," said Sigurd. Sigurd di'Arganan was the YIA's master forger, and a Hacker to boot. "But I better be off. Donivore won't recognize the fake, but even so I'd rather not linger too much. Just because he won't, doesn't mean other people who are watching will be fooled."

Anna nodded and the two left the building.

Ylissean Maximum Security Prison: Ventilation Shafts
Gaius Faraday

"Where is our end point in this plan?" asked Gaius as Morgan led him along in the ventilation ducts.

"The Hideout," said Morgan.

"Been a while since we had any use for that," Gaius commented lightly.

"Here we are," Morgan said and she dropped head first out of the ventilation shaft. She touched the ground with her hands and executed a perfect handspring.

Gaius did the same, except sloppier. Morgan quirked an eyebrow at him and Gaius shrugged, "Not a Thief anymore. At least, in that kind of sense."

Then the hammer of a gun clicked.

The two agents turned around on the spot to see a detective standing there, gun pointed at them.

"Hands in the air!" she shouted. She brushed her purple hair out of her face.

"Woah woah woah! There's clearly been a misunderstanding here!" Gaius said to the purple haired detective. He took a cautious step forward and noted the tensing of the woman's muscles.

Gaius reacted instantaneously. He bolted forward and knocked her arm to the side. Milliseconds after he did so, the detective fired, missing.

Quick reaction time.

Gaius tried to end it quickly, but the detective blocked his kick to her leg. She threw a punch at his face. Gaius reached up to block it, but was hit in the stomach with her other hand, a feint.

The Mastermind deflected her next punch and followed up with several of his own. The woman blocked all but the last, which Gaius barely managed to land on her. The detective took a few steps backward from the attack.

Gaius delivered a cross chop to her right side. As the woman tried to block it, Gaius glimpsed a faded tattoo on her inner right arm, right by her armpit. A black elegant F.

Black Fang.

Gaius furrowed his eyebrows. That wasn't right, this woman had all the wrong tells to be Black Fang. Then he realized she must be Ex-Black Fang. Big difference.

Gaius punched the woman in the temple while she tried to block his other hand, knocking her out.

"She'll be fine," said the Mastermind to Morgan. "Let's go."

Ylissean Maximum Security Prison
Stahl Donivore

"Leila?" Stahl said as he turned the corner, his eyes widening as he saw a woman lying on the floor.

The purple haired detective was flat on the ground. She groaned at the sound of her name.

"What happened!?" Stahl asked as he ran up to her. Matthew was going to kill him.

"Faraday escaped," Leila rubbed her head. "He's…good. Too good to be a normal civilian. But he got away."

Stahl nodded, "Don't worry about it. I just got the lab results. Turns out Faraday wasn't our man."

"Then who is?"

"Someone named Colm Fletcher. Up you get, we've got work to do."

Ylissean Suburbs: Mansion
Volke

The Fireman pulled down the handkerchief from his mouth. The barrier of cloth to hide his breathing didn't matter. Not when he had prey like this. Plus Volke was good enough where he didn't need it.

For the ninth time, he checked to make sure all his weapons were in place.

Despite the situation, he almost laughed. Damn job had him feeling like it was his first job.

It's just another job. Just with a bit of a more dangerous target.

Volke vaulted across the gap between buildings. On top of the mansion, Volke lithely slid down the roof and jumped onto the balcony on the second floor.

The house was all lit up. It made Volke a little more relieved. Had his target known he was coming, he would have killed the lights so as to be able to sneak up on the Fireman.

Volke pulled out a lockpick. The window took little time, perhaps thirty seconds. It would have been shorter except he was slightly nervous.

Nervous? You're the Fireman. You don't get nervous.

Volke stepped through the now open window and silently began to scope the place. He took out his signature custom built silenced pistol. It was one of the most accurate guns in the world.

The assassin eased open the door that stood between him and the main hallway of the mansion. Once it was open, he peeked his head out and narrowed his eyes. He could see the target.

Kellam Anderson sat in a room adjacent to the main hall, watching TV. Volke drew a sniper scope out of his pocket and attached it to his pistol. Silently, of course.

Volke brought it up to his eye and aimed, placing Kellam's head right dead in the center of the crosshair.

The Fireman tightened his finger on the trigger. He took a deep breath.

And Kellam turned in his chair and pointed a pistol right where Volke was and fired several times.

Had Volke reacted any amount of time later, he would have been riddled with bullet holes. Volke had managed to duck out of the way. But he wasn't out of danger, not by a long shot.

More bullets followed, piercing through the wall and steadily getting closer to Volke.

Then they stopped, Kellam was reloading.

Volke made his move, he dove out of the room into the hallway while firing several times. In an effort to distract his target, he shouted, "Hey Anderson! I heard you were in jail. Guess I was wrong."

Kellam had been in jail for a time. Volke had assumed Sterling had sprung him. Not like Kellam would have been kept there for long, he was too good.

Without missing a beat, Kellam slammed in another clip to his gun and shouted back, "Hey Volke, I heard you sucked! Guess I was right!"

When the shots from Kellam resumed, Volke began to regret taking this job. He vaulted up the walls in the hallway which was out of Kellam's line of sight and clung to the chandelier, dispersing his weight so he wouldn't cause it to come crashing down.

Kellam stopped firing. He began to walk toward where Volke had been, pistol held out in front of him like a professional. Unshaking, unafraid.

When he got beneath Volke, the Fireman jumped off the chandelier with barely a sound. He clenched his left fist, and the brace he had on his arm shot out a knife on the bottom of his hand. He angled it down at Kellam for the kill.

But Anderson had heard his jump. He sidestepped just enough for Volke to miss. But he didn't get out of the way completely, Volke was able to kick the gun out of Kellam's hand as he fell. As the Fireman hit the ground, he rolled and recovered on his feet. Turning on the spot, he emptied a clip in Kellam's direction. Off target, misses.

Kellam managed to recover his gun. But he must have been still slightly disoriented, for his shot hit Volke's gun instead of his hand. The firearm was flung from his hand. The Fireman palmed a knife that had been hiding in his sleeve.

With a jerk of the wrist, the knife was flung at Kellam, who dodged. But the Fireman had been anticipating that. So in the time it took the knife to get to Kellam, Volke closed the distance between them. With a cross chop, the gun in Kellam's hand hit the floor.

Anderson stepped backward with agile and ease one wouldn't expect from him. He grabbed one of the ornamental swords from the wall and swung it at Volke with finesse and style. Volke blocked it with his knife and the two held there, trying to overpower the other.

They stood still like that for several moments.

"I gotta hand it to you, not many people can just spot me immediately," Kellam said with a cocky look. "But the number of people who can is about to be reduced by one!"

Kellam pulled the sword back and swung low, trying to earn a hit on Volke's leg. The Fireman jumped back, letting distance get between them again. That was what Kellam wanted, it was how he worked best.

In a true fencer's form, Kellam began to press down on Volke using the blade's reach to take advantage of Volke's short range and in attempt to press Volke against a wall.

The Fireman threw his knife in desperation at Kellam to try and make an opening.

It worked, Kellam had to pull back the sword to block the knife. Volke closed the distance once again and clenched his left fist. The hidden blade jut out of his brace on his arm.

He punched forward, aiming for the right lung. A punctured lung would mean victory for him.

Volke's aim was true, and Kellam realized what was happening too late. The blade hit Kellam right at the lung.

And bounced off.

Kellam kicked Volke in the stomach and the Fireman was flung backward into a wall.

Bullet proof vest! How is he that fast!?

Kellam began the attack again, Volke had taken out one of his several spare knives and managed to fend off Kellam while he regained his composure and bearings from the hit to the wall.

Several minutes passed by without either gaining the upper hand, and Volke felt his body begin to tire. He was beginning to slow, and Volke knew Kellam saw.

Volke tried throwing his knife at Kellam again. The assassin effortlessly blocked it, not being distracted like last time. Volke reached up to his back and quickly pulled the shot gun that was on his back off. The Fireman pointed it at Kellam very quickly and fired.

Volke was surprised he made as good a shot as he did. But the blast hit Kellam in the chest. Not like it would do much since he had the bullet proof vest and it was at such a short range, but it was still the power of a shotgun hitting him. Kellam would feel it.

Kellam dropped the sword as he crashed to the ground. He picked up one of Volke's discarded knives and threw it at the Fireman. It hit the shotgun just as he was about to fire again, causing his shot to miss.

Volke dropped the shotgun, reloading wasn't worth it. It would get him killed.

For the third time that night, Volke clenched his left fist and the blade shot out. Volke jumped at Kellam, making sure not to miss this time.

The lights went out.

Volke swore very loudly as his blade hit the wood floor. It broke the brace on his arm, leaving Volke with a busted brace where the knife stuck out in a useless angle.

The Fireman got up and pulled out his last remaining weapon, his back up pistol. Then he stood completely still, waiting for Kellam to make a noise.

For ten minutes, nothing. No sounds at all. Volke could barely hear his own breathing

Volke took a tentative step. No noise. He hated when he had to deal with creaky floorboards.

Then the lights flashed back on. And Kellam stood a few feet in front of him.

Gun in hand, pointing at Volke's head.

"Night night," he said smugly.

Volke dove to the floor as he heard the gunshot.

It had missed, albeit barely.

…But the second one didn't.

Volke felt the hot metal pierce below his heart. Non-fatal laceration, he could survive if he got medical attention.

But he wouldn't survive the third shot to the head.

Author Notes: I'm actually really proud of this chapter! And that last scene was as great as it was due to LittleA-A-Ron! You can thank him and his long awaited Volke moment! Sorry though, it was for the plot.

Since I couldn't PM respond to Shadow Typer, I'm thanking you for you reviews now!

"What's that in the mirror, or the corner of your eye? What's that footstep following, but never passing by? Perhaps they're not just waiting. Perhaps when we're all dead, out they'll come a-slithering… from underneath the bed."

-The Doctor, Listen