Broken Trust

Chapter 2 – One thing to do

Disclaimer: We don't own any of the characters

It was such a cliché, he thought silently, for the meeting to take place in such a dark warehouse. He muttered curses under his breath as he hugged his coat tighter against himself. There was something that he didn't quite understand, why did it have to be him?

Brown eyes flickered back and forth from the watch he had on to the entrance of the warehouse. He was supposed to meet with the informant an hour ago and quite frankly, he was getting a little pissed. He looked down at his running shoes in dismay. He hadn't accounted for the sudden change in weather, the downpour of rain that came as suddenly as the mysterious call.

"Come on." He muttered, stuffing his hands into his jeans pocket. He stood slightly on his tiptoes, stretching the muscles in his calves. He felt the tight clench as the muscles stretch to the limit. Unconsciously his mind switched into training mode and he reached his arms in the air and stretched them too.

He yawned slightly when he felt the wonderful stretch, but then quickly lower his arms back down. Focus. Yes, he must focus on the mission and only on the mission. But upon recalling his objective, he reverted to his initial foul mood.

"Damn it." He cursed under his breath. "Stupid meeting." He closed his eyes, a sigh escaping his lips. Why was he here again? Memories of the past couple of days rush back into his mind.

Brad. The American's homecoming was met with both joy and trepidation. Joy, because he was back and he looked all right. Trepidation, at what Brad's arrival signifies. It was finally time. Time to act before Kritiker can launch an attack on its own assassin team.

He shivered. Yes, despite the fact that they were part of Kritiker's top assassin team, they were to be terminated just because they broke one of Kritiker's rules, over a year ago. Kritiker is, after all, still an underground organization. They don't have the rules that have been established by society. One of the first rules of society is, after all, 'Thou shall not kill.' Even though all these years they believed that Kritiker was the lesser evil, in the end it was the same. It was truly ironic and if it didn't involve dire matters, Ken would have found it funny.

A sound jolted him out of his ponderings as his assassin instincts kicked in. He squinted his eyes, determined to distinguish some sort of movement in the shadows of the warehouse. He reprimanded himself for not obscuring himself from view, but then remembered that he was to stand in the light, make himself seen. It was one of the conditions of meeting. Suddenly, the light perturbed him. If he was seen and yet whoever nameless person was hidden from sight, he was at a disadvantage. If he were attacked, he had no way of retaliating. How could he, if he couldn't see where his opponent is?

"Relax, Siberian." An somewhat familiar voice said, that didn't make it any less dangerous. It could be anyone.

'Yeah, right.' Thought Ken, 'As if I can relax when I'm a sitting duck...' As if the person could read his mind, a figure appeared from the shadows.

Ken recognized her immediately, muscles relaxing and he let out the breath he had been holding.

"Birman."

"Hello Ken."

"You're my informant?" Ken asked, raising an eyebrow even as he folded his arms. She surveyed the area with her keen eyes. It was only when she was satisfied that she replied.

"Yes, I am."

"Why all the secrecy then?" What Ken really wanted to ask, of course, was "Why the hell did you make me go through all this?" But he didn't voice that question, although from the

"Because my life is on the line, as well as yours." Birman pointed out. "You have to remember, Hidaka, that Kritiker will not be pleased if it knew what you and your team are conspiring."

"It's not like we have a choice." Muttered Ken. "We're in this position because of Kritiker. It was only that one time that we disobeyed an order."

"It doesn't matter, you and I know that. Liquidation of the people involved is the first step to eliminating this from the database. Kritiker cannot afford any mistakes nor any backstreet missions handled by its assassin teams."

"Well that's rich. It's a damn underground organization for fuck sake, why can't we do something underground for ourselves?"

"Exactly that. It's an underground organization, which cannot afford to be above ground. If the authorities found out about Kritiker's existence, a lot of people will end up in jail or worse."

"So it's protecting its own skin by not allowing its teams to get caught while doing one of their own missions, by eliminating them before they do it?"

"Yes."

"But we've DONE the mission. It was successful, no one found out!"

"It doesn't matter. If word gets out to the other teams, they'd start doing their own missions too and when one of them gets caught....you can fill in the blanks."

"But that's crazy! They're using us a bloody example?"

"Hey, life's a bitch."

"You've got that right. Fuck."

"As far as I can see, you only have one chance." Birman said calmly.

"And what is that?"

"Persia doesn't know about this yet. One a couple of high Kritiker officials and they're conducting their own investigations, Manx and myself are in hot waters right now. We're both responsible for handing over the mission tapes to all of you. But we do know the names of the officials that are investigating your case."

"What exactly are you proposing?" Ken asked suspiciously, although he had a pretty good idea as to what Birman was getting at.

"Eliminate those X factors and Persia and the other teams will never know."

"Kill our own guys?!" Shouted Ken. "Are you insane?" He hissed.

"I should point out that they are willing to kill you and your two friends. Am I insane? I would have asked you the same thing when you three put your asses on the line for Fujimiya's little ego trip." Brown eyes flashed with a sudden red.

"It wasn't an ego trip. He had to go rescue his sister."

"Of course. But all alone? Without anyone's help?" Birman narrowed her eyes. "I'd say he's a little too confident with himself. And the fact that he actually believed that he succeeded in that solo mission is arrogance enough."

"I can't disagree that his actions were reckless, but I would have done the same thing." Keen eyes stared at him and Birman shook her head.

"You don't seem the type. Sure, you're brash and I know you question authority at times, but in the end you always follow the orders. You know it when you're out of line, Hidaka and you stop yourself, a sign of a true soldier."

"I'm a fucking assassin, not a soldier. There is a difference." Ken said bitterly.

"That's where you're wrong, Hidaka." Birman said calmly. "All of Kritiker's assassins are soldiers. Kritiker's soldiers. What we are is nothing more than a private army, someone pays us the right sum of money and we do exactly what they tell us to do."

"Oh sure, that makes me feel LOADS better." Ken said sarcastically.

"I honestly don't care what that makes you feel. But hear this, eliminating the four Kritiker officials are your only chance. And I know Fujimiya isn't ready to let you go any time soon." She struck a chord and she knew it. Ken bit his lip, refraining himself from lashing out on her. She reached under her coat and pulled out a rather thick binder, handing it out to Ken.

"These are all the information that you need. Whether or not you act upon my suggestion is entirely up to you." She turned around and began to walk away.

"What's in it for you?" Ken asked, watching her retreating form. She paused, looking at him from the corner of her eyes.

"You're the best assassin team Kritiker's got. It would be a total waste if three of you were eliminated, because you and I know that your other teammates would never stand for that. We can't afford to lose eight remarkable assassins."

"So it's just business then."

"It's always just business, Siberian."

Yes, another short chapter. Be patient, please, it's hard to keep up with everything and write at the same time. Do remember this is a collaborated effort, so we have to send this back and forth to each other. Trying to fit in writing in our different schedules. -_-; College bites.