Things that Matter

by Arjen

BtvS,Noir,Dark Angel. Different timeline in the Black Sunrise series. When Ames White finds a clue to the whereabouts of his son, he needs a distraction to keep Max unaware. Hiring an assassin to take her out seems like the thing to do.

8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

September 2003

Sitting in the small coffee shop, Dawn perused the newspaper that was sharing the table with a cup of tea. Today there was yet another article about the media-styled 'Soldier Hunter'. Apparently, she sarcastically told herself, someone had been killing members of the military for the last three months. The way these people died was different every time, although often signs of forceful interrogation had been found.

Shaking her head warily, she took hold of the cup of hot liquid and sipped from it, reveling in the bitter taste flooding her mouth. Forceful interrogation, why they didn't simply call it torture was something she would never understand. After all, if there was one person who knew what happened during these interrogations, it was her. And that wasn't the only mistake the reporters made either. They had missed half the bodies!

All the media appeared to be interested in was creating the fear that caused people to buy the papers. Okay, there wasn't really anything new about that, but it was simply ridiculous how any references to the truth came purely as a bonus. Soldier Hunter indeed, she had better things to do than kill a couple of underlings. It had been the scientific part of the Initiative that she'd been most interested in, and that had been the main reason she'd had to—what was it again?—forcefully interrogate some of the soldiers. After all, they knew names, faces and had other relevant information.

Dawn realized that this could simply be a cover-up. That the military was keeping most of the relevant information from the press, like the common denominator all the former targets had. If you looked at it with only a small part of the information it might look as if the targets had all been random, even when they hadn't been.

She sighed at her own folly, this was simply more redundant information. Telling herself things she already knew. Something that had become the norm lately, as without a decent conversation partner she had retreated into herself again.

It was becoming more obvious all the time that being completely alone wasn't a good thing. Not that she hadn't already noticed that before. So, as a way to ground herself, she had taken care to try to be more open and friendly to the people around her. Alright, open was a rather big—huge actually—word for how she was acting to them, but if they thought she was open, who was she to claim otherwise?

"Hiya Kirika," came from the door that was just opening. The voice belonged to a woman who couldn't possibly be more than five years her senior, but right now it sounded like it came from an angel.

"Suzie."

"Y'know wit tha way you always come here this early me boss will start to think Ah'm lazy." But you are lazy, Suzie, and while you're still trying to drag yourself out of bed I've already been curbing my hunger for several hours. Not that she'd had a lot of need for breakfast lately as most of her life took place during the night, but on the days that she actually did get up early she wanted service. But saying so would go against the whole being open and nice thing. Well, not against the open, but it did go against the nice. So which should she choose? Argh! Why did life have to be so difficult?

"Don't worry, you're not that late and I can wait for my breakfast." Nice it was.

That seemed to satisfy the brainless creature. No Dawn, be nice to the stupid woman. "Right on. You'll want your usual then?"

Plastering a well-practiced smile on her face, Dawn merely showed it to the woman and nodded her consent before turning back to the paper lying in front of her with a barely concealed sigh. Wasn't there anyone on this planet—aside from herself—with even half a brain? Closing her eyes and resting her head in her hands she leaned back on her chair until her face was raised towards the ceiling in silent supplication for patience. The patience that she needed while she was staying here in Nowhereville, USA.

Time passed, but she never opened her eyes or changed her position until after her breakfast had been deposited in front of her and Jane had refilled the empty teacup. Dawn was pretty sure that she'd muttered a thank you to the waitress, but even that was fuzzy. She just couldn't bear to hear the woman's name spoken, it always served as a cruel reminder of the friend she had lost.

After composing herself, she finally focused her attention on the hearty breakfast lying in front of her. The fact that the amount of grease dripping from every single item, including the bread, was more than she used to have in a whole week was something that she'd gotten used to by now, and didn't gross her out nearly as much as it did the first time ate breakfast here.

Fit in, eat what the locals eat, no matter what it may look like. A lesson that Altena had taught her—at least she thought it was Altena—and one of the most useful ones she remembered from the infiltration training. Infiltration, not quite how it had been called back then, but the name sufficed for her purposes. Other lessons from those days had been implemented during the past months as well, most importantly her name and appearance.

Give people something to focus on, something that it so out of the ordinary that they don't notice anything else about you. Good advice, and as she needed to have an alias anyway she chose one that was so very much out of the ordinary that it became the only thing people remembered about her. The full-blooded American with the Japanese name, Kirika Yu-something.

Digging into the breakfast she forgot her worries for a moment; despite the way it looked this meal was definitely worth the wait. Meticulously working her way through the eggs, bacon, and other fried goodies she turned her mind to the here and now. This was the town where her next mission was going to take place, and she wondered how long she should wait before making her move.

The information that she kept receiving was nice and all, but if she didn't take the next step anytime soon it might be too late. There was only a small window of opportunity in which she could actually do what needed to be done, and there were only about three days left before it closed.

From the corner of her eye she once again saw the door open and someone enter, but this time the person she recognized wasn't a lazy cook. Instead it was someone she wanted to talk to, someone who gave her the information she so desperately required. She waited until the woman reached her table before raising her head and nodding a greeting. "Hi."

"Hey Kirika, still not getting bored of the greasy stuff?" her target's wife answered while joining her at the table.

X.X.X

"I don't believe it!" Mr. Mansfield shouted out while pacing across the room. "You mean to tell me that while we know that someone is systematically killing off every single member of the Initiative we don't have the slightest clue about who that someone is?"

"There are the rumors about that woman," Charlie tried, only to be put down by his superior.

"Oh yes, the great and mysterious woman who nobody ever remembers anything about except the name. And what a wonderful name it is," Mansfield said while waving his hands in the air. His next words were hissed though, and while they were pretty quiet everybody in the room could hear them. Are you seriously trying to tell me that our people are getting murdered by a cartoon character?"

"Anime, sir," a brave soul dared, but Charlie didn't even try to look at whoever it was. His own comments had already gotten him into deeper trouble than they had been worth, no need to add to them.

"Excuse me! Anime character. Thank you so much for that helpful correction mister Long, I don't know what I would have done without you." While the ranting continued, Charlie tuned it out, opting to mull over the knowledge they had.

This Kirika Yumura, was indeed looking far too much like the person whose name she had taken. In actions that is, because she was good enough at disguises that nobody ever gave the same description. Hah, disguises, his snort earned him a surprised look from a colleague who probably wondered what there was to snort about. Remembering his current location, he tried not to look guilty while risking a peak at Mansfield. Okay, the man was still ranting at Long, poor bastard, so he could easily spend some more time thinking.

Whoever this Kirika really was had obviously watched too many Anime series, movies, whatever. That had to be the only possible explanation of the whole hair thing. Nobody that was in the least bit sane would dye their hair in a different color every week. Not that that would have been so bad, had it not been the sort of color only those ridiculous cartoons used.

And why? Like the rest of the team he too had been forced to watch every single episode of the series, twice. But never in all those twenty-six episodes did the main characters use disguises, so that just had to be a clue. Something they should be able to use to determine her identity.

"Have you useless pieces of shit at least made some progress on the list of possible suspects?" This question tore his attention back, as it indicated that his superior had regained at least a modicum of sanity.

As it was one of the most obvious aspects of a case like this they had done so, and Charlie waited patiently while Kevin Dursmeyer rose to his feet to explain their progress there.

"Yes sir, we have made progress. As you are aware we only started doing this a month ago though, and there are a lot of possible suspects."

"Quit whining about your excuses, and tell me what I want to know. Damn group of sissyboys." While the last part was spoken quietly, there was no doubt in Charlie's mind that he hadn't been the only one who heard it, or had been meant to hear it.

Kevin had obviously heard it as well, as he stiffened slightly before continuing with his report. "We've been trying to figure out who could possibly have a reason to hate the Initiative."

"Everybody who knew someone in Sunnydale," was spoken not-quite inaudibly, causing Kevin to stop once again while he considered that statement. And probably wonder if Mansfield was going to come down on the person who spoke, but when that didn't happen he continued his explanation.

"Yes, everybody who knew someone in Sunnydale is a suspect. But as we have some information about the perpetrator we have been able to dismiss a large number of candidates. Obviously it isn't a man, which means that we can dismiss about half of the list. Witnesses have estimated her age at somewhere between twenty-five and thirty-five, but taking into account her excellent capabilities with make-up we have extended this with five years in each direction."

"You can put the five years on the bottom back. This one's a pro. There's no way that she could have possibly gained this much skill in the time since the bombing. Unless of course you think that she was capable of gaining skills like these overnight?" The challenging tone in Mansfield's voice was enough for Charlie to realize that it might not be a particularly smart thing to oppose their boss on this issue. No matter how much was possible with the use of magic, the man had made up his mind and wasn't likely to consider other possibilities.

"Ah, yes sir. Although-" Kevin started again, but stopped when he noticed the left eyebrow of their superior rise to dangerous heights. "Right. Now because of this we have been able to dismiss anyone above forty and under twenty, twenty-five I mean. Aside from this we know that the perpetrator is capable of traveling from one side of the country to the other within a time frame that suggests the use of airplanes. This means that people who can't afford this are shunted to a secondary list, just in case they have financial backing."

There was a silence before Mansfield spoke up again, with a question that Charlie could see made his friend sweat even worse. "That's it? That's all you know?"

"Well sir, we have considered the possibility that she lived nearby the first place we know that she was active. So our first check was focused on the state of Florida, but as we came up without any solid leads we decided that the demise of private Peters was planned, and not just a spur of the moment decision."

"Yeah, yeah, I could have told you that. How many people are left on your little list?"

"Ah, let me check sir." Kevin bent over his desk and after searching through the bunch of papers lying on it extracted a printout that seemed to be full of corrections with a red pen. "At the last count about twenty-five hundred."

"Twenty-five hundred. You're telling me that after discounting so many people you've still got twenty-five hundred left that need to be checked?"

"Yes sir. And that is a low number, only counting former residents and family members of people living there at the time of the bombing. Other factors like old friends have not yet been calculated into it."

But Mansfield didn't seem to want to hear the excuses. "And why is it taking so fuckin' long?"

A beep from his computer, indicating it was finally finished with the heuristic search he'd entered earlier, almost prevented Charlie from hearing the reason explanation his friend used. Not that he didn't know, after all he too had been drafted for checking out the alibis of those people. Man, that had really been one of the most boring jobs he'd ever done. "Sir?"

"Not now, Brooks." Damn, that's what happens when you shoot your mouth of at the wrong time. Next time don't say anything unless asked too, and even then keep strictly to the subject. "Alright Dursmeyer, I want you to speed up the search so that we might actually get this bitch before she's done with her work. Or is that too much trouble?"

Nobody could possibly be fooled by the suddenly sweet disposition of their boss, and Charlie was pretty certain that even Kevin had assessed the situation correctly, as he was nodding frantically. Nonetheless, he made a note to himself to impress the importance of hurrying on his friend. There were things you just shouldn't do while working in certain circles.

"Good. Now that that part of the search is done with, I want you to tell me what's known about the other thing."

The other thing, even after all these years Mansfield couldn't contain his distaste about the sub-tees. Not that Charlie had a better opinion about them, but it was a remarkable thing to see one's superior act like that. Unfortunately this also meant that he wasn't allowed to speak up yet. The whole speech that followed was long, flowery, full of nonsense, and came basically down to a couple of facts.

They didn't know how many sub-tees had escaped from the facility when it went wrong there, and it was unknown how many of them had subsequently survived the destruction of Sunnydale. There was no knowledge about the number of their kind with whom they might have talked about it, and since most abilities of the non-humans were still unknown it was more than possible that Kirika was one of them.

"In other words, you don't know shit and didn't even have the decency to tell me that in a couple of words?" Mansfield asked, once again getting angrier and angrier, causing the poor guy who had been elected to report to sit down with a beet-red face. "Alright then Brooks, your turn. But you'd better have something worthwhile."

Finally! "I know who the next target is sir."

X.X.X

There was something wrong with this entire situation. Unfortunately Dawn couldn't put her finger on what exactly bothered her about it. She'd first felt it when she gave her fake name at the registry of the motel she was staying at. And now that she was once again walking through the quiet streets of this small Iowa town the feeling had returned tenfold.

Despite the heat coming from the sun—that had finally decided to show itself—a shiver ran down her spine. Was she being watched? It sure felt like it, but she couldn't be certain. Professionals then? That was a good possibility, but how could they have figured out where she was? It shouldn't be possible. No! Don't ever believe that you're infallible, deal with the consequences but never believe your opponents won't be able to surprise you.

Those words weren't ones that she had been taught, but there hadn't been any need to do so, as they were obvious beyond belief. And her feelings had been right often enough in the past to ensure that she'd listen to them. But where could they be? And who could they be? Did she have time to return to her room before they got there, whoever they were?

A mental review of the weapons she was carrying, a single knife hidden at the small of her back, and one concealed in each of her boots, told her what she needed to know about that. Yes, she needed more weapons, or at least more suitable weapons. And the fastest way to get those was by going to her room, only if that location was compromised should she look elsewhere.

Hurrying through the streets Dawn wondered where she had gone wrong. How had they managed to track her? No, she was being silly. Her path might not be the easiest to follow, but if they put enough people on it there wasn't much she could do to prevent them from catching up. There were always witnesses, and she had been stupid enough to keep using the same name.

But using that name came so easily; she reacted to it so naturally that nobody would ever suspect that it was an alias. Unfortunately it seemed that it had now become useless. After finishing this job, it was time to completely change her name and appearance. Dawn sighed a bit at that, she had actually gotten to like the green hair she was currently wearing. Should she dye it blond next time? That was done by so many people that nobody would pay any attention to it. Or maybe brown, and make it look like a dye job gone wrong. Having any potential witnesses being able to give the military her real hair color wasn't among the things she wanted to do.

Now wasn't the time to think about that though. Having reached a slightly busier street she paid more attention to the people around her, even greeting the shop owners. Yes, she had been right, there was something terribly wrong. The people who she'd come to know these last days now seemed to be afraid of something, or at the very least nervous. Ergo, she was too late.

Moments after making this observation she spotted the first undercover agent. Well, someone who looked like an undercover agent at least. There was no neat suit, and he lacked the whole body language that screamed he was a member of some sort of service, but he didn't have the casual laid back manner the people around him had either. And besides, he didn't look nervous. Wasn't that a contradiction? Being both laid back and nervous? Not important Dawn, pay attention to your enemies.

They were here. Spotting a side alley she quickly ducked into it, making sure her observer noticed her doing so. It was time to deal with the first of these people who were trying to prevent her from doing what truly mattered. They were about to learn that it wasn't a good thing to mess with Noir.

Shortly after that Halloween, all those years ago, Buffy had told her about Angel and how he was one of the good guys. Briefly she wondered what had ever become of the vampire, but dismissed the useless thought from her mind instantly, that wasn't what she needed to think about. The important thing was that her sister had also told Dawn about her first meeting with Angel, and as her eyes landed on the sturdy looking bar above her she allowed a smile to cross her face. Despite everything, those smiles did actually seem to come easier these days.

"I lost her, do you have a visual on her?" The man asked, while Dawn looked on from above. Unlike Buffy she couldn't do a handstand on an elevated bar for several minutes, so she had chose to simply squat on top of it, and, to make it a bit more difficult for the man who was now listening to his orders, she had chosen to do so in the shadows.

"She hasn't exited? Then she must still be around here. Yes, I do realize that means she's spotted me but I'm more than capable of handling her." At those words he produced a gun, a big gun at that, which he took in a two-handed grip while scanning the alley. Why didn't anyone ever look up in these cases? Was it because of instinct? Did it have to do with the fact that all predators that were dangerous to mankind hunted on the ground? While she didn't really care for the reason, Dawn was grateful for the habit. And when the man had walked a bit further and had his back to her, she let herself drop behind him.

A loud sound from the man's earplug indicated that she'd been spotted and that the information had been transmitted. Whoever had done the spotting had obviously only just set up where he could see her, as otherwise he would have done so before. Buffy had had the benefit of the night, in this case it was a bright and sunny day. Bright, sunny, and soon to be bloody

Her opponent was pretty good, not turning around to look behind him in fear but actually diving forward and rolling his body in such a way that he came out with his gun pointing in her direction. At least, that's what she assumed was the plan. After all, while he might be good she was better and he never made it that far. Halfway during the dive her knife had unerringly found his neck, severing the spine and thereby instantly preventing his body from receiving its commands. Oh, and killing him in the process, but she considered that a positive side-effect.

One down. The thought wasn't voiced aloud, as doing so was unnecessary and might actually draw attention. She was in the middle of a mission, and during missions it was silence that was important, not acting like a nice person. Kneeling down next to the corpse, Dawn tore her knife from the corpse and cleaned it on the man's clothes.

Only after putting it back in its customary place did she grab the gun, and the feeling of the ranged weapon immediately made her feel safer. Oh, she knew that was ridiculous, as it wasn't the weapon that made her safe, but the ability to strike her enemies down from a distance was rather useful in a situation like this. Going over the body she looked for any extra clips he might be carrying, when she suddenly heard a sound behind her.

Turning around she saw a woman standing there, and immediately all thoughts of looking for ammunition were forgotten. She had been here too long and needed to leave now while the woman was still surprised by the sight of a corpse.

The woman's surprise didn't last long however, and the moment she noticed the gun in Dawn's hand she shrieked. "Murderer! Help! Someone's been killed! Help!" A long second passed, during which Dawn did her best to restrain the urge to shoot this woman. The urge to feel the primitive pleasure in watching the woman's head explode from contact with one of the .45 bullets the gun contained was great.

After that long, conflicted, second however, reason won out and Dawn once again turned around so she could use the other exit. She couldn't afford to waste a bullet on someone like that—she had to assume that this was the only gun she could use until she had access to her own weapons.

Running through the alley, she didn't even slow down when at the other end a man and woman suddenly appeared with guns in their hands. Raising her own weapon, Dawn let their boss know that the score was 3-0 in her advantage. And even then she didn't slow down until she was close enough that she might get their guns.

Unfortunately, while bending over to take the first she was shaken out of her self-congratulatory mood as a bullet impacted on the wall next to her, sending a sliver of stone to scratch her face.

X.X.X

"We've just lost Saunders and Black, sir." The report was delivered in completely neutral tones, but even so Riley had to do his best to keep from flinching at the casual way another team of agents had been killed. Had he been in charge he would have changed the plan by now, but he wasn't and the man that was in charge didn't seem inclined to give up on his current strategy.

"That makes nine. Did she have time to get their guns?"

The technician who was looking at the monitors shook his head while following the woman on the screen. "No sir, she's still only got the one from Bloomberg."

"Excellent," Mansfield said, clearly not bothered at all by the way his men seemed to be dying, "she'll soon be out of ammo and then we can take her."

"Are you sure this'll work?" Riley silently cursed his traitorous mouth, insulting this man's plan was not a good idea.

"Of course it will, captain. It's only a matter of time before she makes a mistake. We've got her room completely covered and removed everything she kept in it, so that there won't be any danger of her getting her own weapons." Yeah, the man was far too confident for Riley's tastes, but what could he do? Mansfield had been sent by the people who had backed the Initiative, and professor Walsh, so he outranked Riley. And aside from that, if the man hadn't shown up neither he nor Sam might have lived through the coming night.

Talking of whom. Riley turned to the entrance of the makeshift command post where his wife just walked in. "How's it going?"

"Not good," he answered her question, but was interrupted by Mansfield.

"I've told you before, captain, that the situation is perfectly under control. In fact, I have no doubt that it will be resolved within a matter of minutes."

Realizing there was no way he could explain the situation to Sam with that man overhearing, and commenting on everything, he indicated they should walk to a more isolated spot. She obviously understood the need for privacy, as she waited until they had arrived and even then her question was voiced very quietly. "How bad is it really?"

"So far, nine agents have died. She threw a knife through the first one's neck, after which she took his gun. Sam, this woman is good. And I don't just mean good, but really good. She was cornered in an alley by three agents but took the first two out without even slowing down, and the moment she found out about the one that had been behind her he was as good as dead too."

His wife looked concerned at the information and also surprised. "It's so hard to believe. I mean when I spoke to her just now I thought they had been mistaken. She was just so nice, even to that cook that never comes on time. How can someone as nice as that be such a cold-blooded killer?"

"I can't answer that question, but I do know that the kind of skill she possesses can't possibly be natural."

"What do you mean?"

Instead of answering immediately, Riley took a moment to gather his thoughts. He needed to explain this carefully, and in such a way that Sam understood the situation clearly. After all, if he succeeded in explaining his theory to her, he would still need to do so to Mansfield, once this Kirika had escaped from his grasp. That she would escape was something he didn't doubt at all, especially if he was right.

"Riley?" Sam asked, wondering why it took him so long to answer.

"Sorry, just thinking it over for a moment. But I think the situation is far more complicated than anyone believes. Last night after they told us about her I did some research about this Kirika Yumura whose name she uses."

"It's just the name of a character from an Anime series, isn't it?"

"Yes, and no. It is the name of a character, but not just any name. It's a bit difficult to explain as I don't know all that much about it, but from what I understand Kirika is the main character in a series about two, or maybe three, assassins. In that world she is the best of the best, practically trained from birth in the use of every weapon imaginable and she kills without any remorse."

Sam seemed to absorb this knowledge, but from her words it was obvious she connected all the dots he had. "Okay, so this woman is trying to emulate an assassin that has a level of skill that doesn't have an equal in this world. But, besides the obvious, what's so bad about that?"

Now it came. He had checked one little fact during his search for information and, after seeing the woman in action, Riley was certain he was right in his belief. No matter how ridiculous it sounded. "Noir existed before Halloween 1997."

"And?"

"In fact, it was very popular in the months before it."

"Riley, you're not making any sense here. What does the airdate of some show have to do with anything?"

"I've told you about the group of hunters I met in Sunnydale, right?"

For a moment she seemed lost at what undoubtedly looked like a change of subject. "Yeah, they called themselves the Scoobies, didn't they?"

"Right, I never had a lot of contact with them, but once in a while we traded some stories. One of the stories they told me was about a friend of theirs, a girl named Buffy."

"Go on," Sam urged, anxiously awaiting the reason he was talking about his time in Sunnydale.

"I'm not sure how it came up, I think it had something to do with some weird reaction Graham had. Anyway, what I do remember was why the story was so funny. This Buffy had dressed up during Halloween like some piece of fluff from the seventeenth century when someone cast a spell on all the costumes. And because of that she turned into a real piece of fluff, it was even so bad that she thought cars were demons." Remembering that conversation and the warring emotions on Xander's face as he told him about these bittersweet memories, once again brought forward a feeling of regret that he hadn't been able to save the young man.

"That's interesting, and I guess I can understand why that's funny. But I take it that situation was resolved, so what does it have to do with this situation?"

"The guy I talked to told me that even after the spell had been broken, he kept some of the abilities that had come with his character. By the time I spoke to him they had almost faded to nothing, but in his case they had lasted longer than in his friends. I'm not sure why, he never gave me an explanation for it, but I think it had something to do with the fact that he was more like the soldier whose costume he wore than the others had been compared to their costumes."

Judging by the sudden horrified look on Sam's face, it was obvious that by now she understood what he was trying to say. "And you think that?"

"Yes, I think that this woman was from Sunnydale and dressed like this Kirika during that Halloween. But she obviously never lost those abilities, and now she's hunting for the people who destroyed her home."

"That's an interesting theory, captain." Hearing the words coming from behind him, Riley spun around to face Mansfield.

"Ah thank you, sir." Well, what else could he say to something like that?

"I don't believe you're right, except about the motives perhaps, but it does seem like your input is required. Somehow that bunch of incompetents," this last comment was obviously meant for the group of people sitting in front of the monitors, and did indeed cause them to flinch. Mansfield probably wasn't the nicest boss you could have, "has managed to lose our quarry. And as they don't know enough about this little shithole of a town they want to ask you some questions."

The assassin had gotten away, just like he'd known she would. And he also knew that she would be coming for them soon. Unfortunately there was no way he could convince Mansfield of that. The man had obviously made up his mind long ago, and was only interested in proving that he was right, no matter what it might cost his subordinates. Unfortunately the man also was the only chance they had of surviving this situation. Not that he had any great hopes left, if his theory was right someone who was called the Grim Reaper by her enemies was coming for him.

So, instead of immediately jumping to help with the search he spent a long minute staring at his wife. Drinking in her beauty, reveling in the sight of her, and seeing the understanding of what he was doing grow in her eyes. When he finally knew he couldn't postpone the inevitable any longer, he turned around.

Only to immediately turn back, take her beautiful face gently in his hands and kiss her. At least there was one consolation to all of this; if he was going to die he would at least do so in the presence of someone he truly loved. Now if only there was a way to keep her safe like his parents, he could really die in peace. But as their tears mingled where their faces were pressed together it was obvious that they both understood it wasn't to be.

X.X.X

Shaking the agents hadn't been as easy as she'd first believed it would be, but eventually she had found a place that wasn't watched or guarded. Leaning against the wall of the small alley, Dawn allowed her body to slide to the ground. Whoever these people were, they were good. While she had already realized that when she killed the first one, they kept surprising her. And they didn't even have the decency to come with nice surprises; in fact one of the more noticeable surprises was how well they were coordinated.

Every time she managed to kill one agent, another would show up to take his place. It was so bad that she didn't even have the time to gather more weapons. Which was why she was probably almost out of ammo. Flipping the necessary switch on the gun, Dawn ejected the clip from the borrowed gun and checked it, only to have her fears confirmed. The single bullet occupying the chamber was the only one she had left, and knowledge like that didn't exactly fill her with great hope for the situation.

In this life, this world, she had never encountered a situation as desperate as this. For a moment the battle in the Parisian library played in front of her mind's eye, reminding her that she had dealt with situations like this in her other life. That time she had been totally pinned as well, or so it had seemed at the time. As far as battles could be beautiful that one could be ranked among the most so, as it was one of those rare times all three saplings fought together. And it had even had something extra as it had been their initial meeting with Chloe.

Halting the memories, she raised her head from where it was resting against the rough wall. There was no time for nonsense like that when she had to find a way to get out of this mess alive. It couldn't be long before they'd find her again, in a little town like this hiding from motivated people wasn't easy, so she had to think. If she had been the one to be tasked with finding her, what would she have done?

The first they had probably done was to inform the target of the situation, and ask for any information he could give them about the lay of the land. Which meant that, not only would their knowledge of the area be at least as good as hers, getting to the target would be difficult as well. Okay, what else? With the resources she believed them to have they had probably managed to set up a close-circuit monitoring system. Something like that would explain the way they kept popping out of the woodwork.

Assuming the target is good enough to keep out of your hands, what would you do to take her in? Hold on, that reminded her of something. What was their mission anyway? Were the agents trying to capture her, or was it termination on sight?

Right, she snorted, disgusted by the ridiculous thought, as if the original orders mattered now. After someone started killing your friends it became easy for a weapon to be misaligned, or use another excuse for accidentally killing her.

Back to the business at hand however, her room would be staked out. It was the most logical place for her to keep her weapons, but she doubted they would expect her to keep a second stash. After all, you're only paranoid when they aren't really after you.

With a basic plan starting to form in her mind, Dawn decided that any other theories would have to wait though. By now she had a pretty good feeling of the odds she was facing and having regained her breath and confidence she was pretty sure that she could go on. A tiny laugh escaped her mouth, while it wasn't exactly the kind of thing she wanted to do on a regular basis, this whole chase thing did raise the adrenaline to a nice level. Man, did it feel good to be alive.

Holding the gun in the two-handed grip it required, Dawn moved along the wall until she could peer around it. Nobody in sight. Carefully scanning the houses that were within sight she couldn't detect any agents there either. In a small community like this it wasn't very usual for people to lock their doors, and as she had already been able to make use of that fact during her earlier flight she hoped to do so again. The priority right now was simply to get out of this town and retrieve her weapons, nothing else mattered. A last glance still showed that the coast was clear, and she was running again, heading straight for the door of the closest house.

Running as fast as she could, Dawn made her left hand let go of the gun and instead extended it out in front of her. Five steps until she reached the door, and still no sign anyone had seen her. Three, two, and she felt her hand connect with the bronze-colored doorknob. Slipping to a halt, she quietly pushed the door open and practically dove inside the dark hallway.

Tense with the excitement caused by the run, she tried to pay attention to every little detail, both inside and outside. For the next minute she didn't move a muscle, choosing instead to fully concentrate on her auditory senses. When after that time she still didn't hear any signs of pursuit from behind her, she finally dared to walk forward. From the way nobody had appeared after her entrance, Dawn figured the house to be empty and as such was surprised when she suddenly encountered the woman gazing at the baby lying peacefully in the crib.

"Who are you?" the woman asked upon seeing Dawn, before her eyes fell on the gun and her tone became more panicky. "What do you want?"

Answering was a useless action, so she decided against it. Instead opting for waving her gun in an attempt to inform the woman that she shouldn't try any heroics. If nothing happened, nobody would get hurt. All she was interested in was going out through the back and making her way to the next street that would get her closer to her weapons.

The woman seemed to either understand the message, or was so petrified with fear that she didn't dare do anything. A very understandable reaction, it wasn't the first time Dawn had encountered a mother so she had a fairly good idea of their behavior when the lives of their children were at stake. Not believing there was any danger she was therefore surprised when a door was suddenly slammed open behind her.

"BANG! BANG!"

Not bothering with stealth anymore she dove forward and ended up in a perfect execution of the move the first agent had attempted. She hadn't felt any air-pressure from the passing of the bullets, nor had she heard them impact, but that didn't stop her from drawing a perfect shot on the gun-carrying shape coming from the slightly dark room. "No! It's a toy!"

While the shout from the woman informed her of the error, Dawn already knew that it was far too late. Her subconscious had taken over the situation and there wasn't much that she could do but watch events unfold. The face belonging to a surprised looking boy of at most five years suddenly appeared in the doorway, and she winced at the same time as she pulled the trigger. NO! The kid hadn't done anything, hadn't been a target or even associated with the target.

Even though it took the bullet only a fraction of a second to reach the child, it seemed to last forever. She had managed to move the gun a bit before the shot was fired—or was it while it was fired?—but was it enough? A speeding bullet was fast however, even when you were this horrified at your own actions, and it wasn't long before she saw the boy's face turn as white as chalk while a large spot of blood blossomed on his right shoulder.

Relieved that her action hadn't immediately destroyed the boy's life, Dawn felt the world return to its normal speed right at the moment everything seemed to happen at once. The boy spun around his own axis, the baby started to scream and the mother came at her with a feral scream. Even while she registered these events from the safety of her quickly reinstated emotional bleakness that was the true Noir part of her, Dawn realized that there was more going on than this. The gunshot had been loud, a powerful gun like the .45 she was carrying made a lot of noise and it couldn't be long before the agents arrived.

She let the now useless gun drop from her hand while it was en route to the knife that had proven so effective earlier. As expected she had taken hold of it before the woman had reached her. And despite the noise that she intellectually knew was going on around her, Dawn felt at peace. The shock of these events had opened the way to a state she hadn't been able to reach since she heard about Sunnydale's fate. And to thank the woman who made it possible, she was going to let her live.

Even so, the knife nicked the woman's throat before she was able to come to a halt. "Murderer."

"The boy is alive. If you wish to keep him that way you need to do as I say." Oh yes, even the emotionless voice was back. Had she been capable of it, Dawn would have felt like rejoicing. Despite her reassuring words however, the woman's hot gaze implied that she didn't seem the least bit eager to forgive the mistake. Not that she cared. "Come."

Walking to the boy she ordered the woman to turn the boy so that he was lying on his back. Yes, it had been as she expected. While the boy hadn't died from the shot itself, there was a large possibility that he would do so unless immediate action was taken. Despite the danger to her personal safety she decided to sacrifice a bit of her head start in order to save the child's life. These people had made her complete again, and helping them survive would be a worthy repayment.

Cutting the boy's t-shirt open with the knife, Dawn exposed the wound. The white, pulverized, bone was clearly distinguishable from the messy red substance around it. And while it wasn't good for the child that the shoulder bone had cracked, at least it had allowed the bullet to pass through his body, ensuring she didn't need to remove it. Looking at the wound it quickly became clear that there was nothing she could do to help the boy, aside from administering some basic first aid.

This time she used the knife to cut off more of his shirt and propped it together, before putting it into the woman's hands. "Press down on the wound like this. It won't be long before someone will come here, ask them to call the hospital."

No thanks came, not that she had expected it, but having overcome her initial shock she didn't believe she had earned the murderous gaze either. The kid shouldn't have been playing with guns like that, even if they were only toys. "Get out," the woman finally hissed from behind her clenched teeth.

Not bothering to respond verbally, Dawn stepped away from the boy and walked back to gather her gun. It wouldn't be long anyway before the agents showed up again, but at least they would be detained a bit by taking care of the boy. After a last glance at the woman who had now chosen to completely ignore her, and instead focus all of her attention to comforting her child, she then stepped out of the backdoor and into the relative silence of the non-crying zone. A short look around, and she had picked out the next house that she needed to go through. Now with the empty gun tucked in her trousers, and the knife in her hand, she continued her quest for weapons.

….…

Due to the new moon and overcast sky, the night seemed as dark as her soul; a fact that Dawn couldn't help but notice yet ruthlessly put from her mind. She could live in the darkness, always had, and if it was required she always would.

And right now her mind was focused on that worst of all things. Doubt. Was it fair to go after these two people? Was it fair to destroy everything they had build over the years? Did killing them mean she was as bad as the people who'd caused the deaths of her friends? Especially when one of them was innocent in that regard?

Did she care? She couldn't honestly say that she did. But then why was she even thinking about this again? In an attempt to get her mind focused on more important matters, Dawn moved her hands once again over her body to check her weapons. And the comfortable feeling of the tools that she'd finally managed to recover during the afternoon made her think of the trouble she'd had.

The distraction that she'd created with the boy hadn't worked nearly as well as she'd expected it to. The possibility that the agents wouldn't take care of the child had crossed her mind when they were on her tail within minutes, but had been instantly dismissed. A group like theirs couldn't afford the negative publicity that someone talking about it would cause.

Thinking about the group… who were they anyway? She hadn't had a chance to interrogate any of them for information. That was annoying, but she shrugged her concerns about that away. How many possibilities were there? It was a large group, that was obvious from the way they acted and were able to sacrifice their people. And let's not even start thinking about how sick the man who ordered them around had to be.

Of course, their leader could simply be an idiot, but that was a worst-case scenario. She'd rather be facing a predictable professional, even one who didn't care about the casualties his men suffered, than some fool who made reckless mistakes. Not that that didn't have some advantages as well, but those advantages were harder to identify due to the unpredictability of it all.

No! She shook her head in an effort to let the flow of cool air bring her back to what was important. Yes, the leader was a professional who simply didn't mind that some of his men died. Yes, that meant the group was part of a greater whole. Okay, that was an assumption and like all assumptions it might be the mother of all screw-ups, but she had a feeling that it was the correct one.

So, who were they then? FBI? Unlikely, she had no personal experience with the FBI but the impression she'd always had was that they would identify themselves clearly. After all, they were only cops. Cops with more privileges perhaps, but still only a bunch of cops.

Next possibility, the CIA. Another mark in the unlikely column, the CIA mostly did its work outside of the United States and she doubted she was important enough for them to change that. Hmm… Dawn had to admit she wasn't entirely happy with that thought. Sure, she wanted to stay as low-profile as possible, but a bit of recognition wouldn't be so bad, would it?

Next one, she decided quickly to prevent her mind from coming up with even more ridiculous ideas, the NSA. Now these guys she didn't really know a lot about. Sure, she'd read the information on their website and had spoken to some people about them, but that didn't tell her much. Their tactics weren't likely to be published on the Internet, and the informants could always only speak of a friend who'd known someone who might have possibly had some sort of contact with the NSA. Hell, most of her information on them came from watching Enemy of the State and the chances of a movie being right about anything but the name of the agency wasn't something she wanted to stake her life on.

With that marked as a possible, there was only one other group that she could still think of. And as she was pretty sure that they at least were after her that also made a lot more sense. Unfortunately that also meant a bigger problem, as it wasn't exactly clear to her which part of the military it would be.

Instead of trying to figure that out though, Dawn halted her approach for a quick check of her surroundings. It wouldn't be too long now before she reached the dangerous section. Not that there wasn't at least some danger now, but it was unlikely anyone could spot someone dressed as darkly as her from such a distance. Even her face and hair had been covered in her need to stay hidden.

The farm where her targets were located wasn't more than maybe a mile away now, and she could already see the lights from the main house. That was at least where she assumed the light was coming from, but to check that she needed to have a better, and closer, look.

Taking out a pair of binoculars she peered through them, trying to discover the location of those people she knew would be there. Professionals like these agents wouldn't have given up after she lost them. They would try again, and again, until they'd finally have her. And the most likely place for them to take a first shot at that task was right here. It was predictable, and she knew that they knew that she knew that they knew she was coming. Or something like that.

But that didn't yet tell her how they planned on protecting the farm and its inhabitants. Knowing there was a trap was the first step in avoiding it, but it was important to her that she'd get Finn. And he would still be here. After all, the first rule of setting up an effective trap was to make the bait real. If the bait wasn't real the target would avoid it, and they couldn't afford not taking her now. Who knew when she'd show up on their radar again?

Not her at least. She still had to try to figure out the best way to keep hidden from them, and that could only be done if she didn't have any other things to do. And right now she was focused on other things, like the view provided by the binoculars. A view that was so close to unusable that she gave up in disgust. It was simply too dark to make out anything, and she really didn't want to go in if she couldn't identify the dangers.

That left her with only one other option she might try to spot her enemies from this distance. And if that didn't work either she'd have to move closer without that knowledge. Carefully putting back the binoculars she took out a small digital camera. This small piece of equipment was something she'd bought a couple of months ago, to replace the one she'd lost during a mission. It wasn't impressive in any way, except for its small size and the nice night-vision feature.

The only reason she was even now using to it spot her enemies was because she hadn't had the foresight to put real night-vision equipment among her secondary stash. So while the small camera did allow her to see a number of things that she might have missed in other circumstance, it wasn't as effective a tool as it should have been.

It soon became obvious that the camera was useless at this distance, but then again, what did she expect? A LCD screen that small couldn't possibly show her any details from anything that was so far away. And it wasn't as if the digital zoom function was very useful at this distance either.

So, this piece of equipment was returned to its former place as well and Dawn was forced to go on without information of what she was to face. The only thing she could do was speculate about the resistance she was up against, so, while carefully continuing her journey, that was exactly what she did.

The farm itself was approachable from practically every possible direction, which was obviously a point in her favor. The agents wouldn't be able to adequately cover every possible entrance, which left them with two choices. Protect the most likely ones, or fall back to a more defensible position. Which in this case would be the house.

Now, as she was pretty sure they were military, and she knew they wouldn't mind sacrificing a couple of their men, it wasn't that hard to guess what they'd do. Namely both. There would probably be a couple of roving patrols that she'd have to take care of first, and maybe even a sniper or two as well. Once they were gone she wouldn't need to fear an attack from the back and she could penetrate the house. Where undoubtedly she'd have to kill more people before she'd reach her targets.

Targets? Yes, her doubts and conscience had obviously been put at ease. Well, not so much her conscience because putting that to ease would imply she had one, and last time she'd checked it had died a long time ago. Having been destroyed by the grief she'd experienced. Having been destroyed by the military of which her targets were a part. No, she unclenched the hand that had wrapped itself around the butt of her gun, she needed to be calm.

….…

It took her almost half an hour to cover the distance to the farm, but as she surveyed the building and its surroundings from behind her cover she was glad she'd taken the extra time. Aside from the need to stay low, periodic checks with both the binoculars and camera were the main reason for her slow approach. But she had also decided that in this case stealth was far more important than speed. Which, she admitted to herself with a slight grin, seemed almost ridiculous when you considered how she was about to reveal herself.

Apparently the agents had learned something from that afternoon though, as the patrols consisted not of two people, but of four, which was a bit excessive in her opinion. After all, they probably assumed she was still armed with only her knife as they had found and removed the weapons from her room. Okay, a grin appeared on her hidden face as she considered that, they had already learned what she was capable of without a gun. So maybe they had a good reason to be cautious.

That didn't make it any easier though. From behind the sparse cover of a couple of trees, she once again looked over at the patrol she had decided would have to go first. It wouldn't be long now before they'd be where she wanted them. Despite her belief that she could take them out without any real problems, Dawn was rather impressed by them. After shadowing them for quite some time now, it had become obvious they were good at their job.

Once every fifteen minutes they checked in with their fellow agents, and aside from these checks they never once spoke an unnecessary word. In fact, had they faced a less skillful opponent, they would have undoubtedly been successful in their task. But to her it was obvious that their leader had put them there for one single reason. To inform him when she had arrived.

She hated being predictable, but she couldn't ignore these people either. Sooner or later she would have to kill someone, and if the patrols were still alive by that time they would come to her opponents' aid. Which meant that she simply didn't have a choice. And yes, their leader was a real bastard, and this would probably work for him, but there was no way that she'd admit he'd outsmarted her. Not that she had any intention of letting him win this round anyway.

One last confirmation to their leader they were still alive, and the patrol split up. Two of the men pointed their M-16s at the trees while the other two carefully walked over. Wouldn't they get tired of all this? They must've gone through that same routine dozens of times already without any results, yet there was no sign of it in their behavior. Bloody professionals.

Silently she eased her gun from its holster, and eased herself back into the tiny ditch she'd chosen as cover, readying herself for the moment she'd hear that the two scouts were in range. Her plan wasn't easy to accomplish, but it was the only one she'd been able to come up with. It would have been far better if she could simply take out the other two first, but there was simply no place to hide near them. Even her shadowing had taken place from a distance large enough that she couldn't spot them with the naked eye. At least that meant she hadn't brought the camera along for nothing.

When it finally happened, it was over within seconds. For the agents it had to have been a complete surprise when they took their final step and Dawn suddenly appeared. They hadn't believed it to be possible for anyone to hide there, but she had managed to do so and now the time had arrived for them to regret their oversight. Unfortunately for them, that regret didn't last long.

Moving faster than they could react Dawn jumped out of the tiny, hidden, ditch and, without really taking the time to aim, she put a bullet in the throat of the target farthest away. Even before that agent gurgled his final breath she was on the move again. Three steps were all that separated her from the next target, and she crossed that short distance in the blink of an eye. As soon as he was in reach she snaked her left arm around his neck, put her knee against his back, and pulled for all she was worth.

The bulletproof vest the man wore was probably the only reason his spine remained intact, but it didn't stop her from being in complete control of him. She was able to turn him the way she wanted to, and before the bullets from the other two reached her—a mere three seconds after she revealed herself—Dawn was in complete control of the situation.

The only bullet from that first salvo that she actually felt grazed her arm, ended up killing her hostage, and upon exiting his neck almost hit her face. But as it didn't kill her she couldn't care less, and she kept her focus on the battle. The hostage, or rather his armor, had served his purpose already and while his weight was too much for her to keep upright she simply went down with him, thereby retaining her cover.

Bullets struck the corpse of their comrade, but while the powerful weapons easily penetrated his vest from such a short distance. The bullets never reached her, instead remaining lodged either in her hostage's body, or the back of his armor. It wasn't long before her remaining opponents figured that out though, and the moment they did so the two agents started to circle around her.

Dawn herself didn't remain a passive observer either though, and had been shooting back at the agents. Unfortunately, her gun, or rather the bullets it fired, wasn't suited for a battle such as this. The men were crouching in such a way that they completely covered that tiny vulnerable spot she'd used earlier. And naturally the quality armor they wore prevented her bullets from reaching their skin. Silently she cursed her lack of foresight and swore that next time she'd put some armor piercing bullets with her backup weapons as well.

Despite their status as cannon-fodder these men did wear armor that her knives were unlikely to penetrate either. Bulletproof vests weren't exactly known for their ability to withstand knives, unless you went for the good stuff. And well, that's what these people were wearing. Still, there were vulnerabilities she should be able to exploit.

Letting go of the gun that wasn't much use in her current situation, Dawn grabbed one of her throwing knives and aimed carefully. The vulnerable spots above the armor were covered, but the ones below didn't have that luxury.

In other circumstances a single knife for each agent would undoubtedly have been enough. This time however everything seemed to be against her as she needed to balance the body with her wounded arm, while using the other to throw the knife.

In the darkness the targets were almost as hard to see as the knives she threw, but her first target let out a strangled cry as it opened up the artery she'd aimed for. Not many people thought about it, usually focusing on the better known arteries, but opening the femoral artery was far more effective than doing the same in someone's wrist.

The other agent was quick to roll to the side when he noticed his partner scream and collapse though, causing the knife that was meant for him to fly harmlessly past. Focusing more completely on the sole remaining danger, Dawn was finally able to discern a small difference between him and the others. Why was only one of them wearing night vision goggles?

There was no time to think about that though, and she immediately sent another knife in his direction. Once again the constantly moving agent managed to dodge it, all the while moving to a position where she would no longer have the body of his colleague between them. And not only was he circling around her, he was also slowly but steadily moving away from her.

The farther away he'd get, the more difficult it would be for her to kill him with the weapons she had. So she needed something else. Anxiously she looked around to see if she could use one of the M-16s lying around, but none were close enough that she could reach them while retaining her cover. And she couldn't give up on her cover while the agent was aiming at her.

This wasn't going the way she wanted it to, Dawn realized, in fact she came very close to nervously licking her lips. But that was unprofessional behavior, and she should be able to deal without it.

And she could. That was the gift she had received from that family that afternoon, and while running away from them she had managed to kill another agent who had a clear advantage over her. In fact, that situation could have been worse than the one she now found herself in. Lady Luck had been smiling at her though, and upon turning the corner she had been the one to react more quickly. No, that hadn't been luck, it was a testament of her skill.

Of course, this case was different. Here she couldn't simply stab her opponent in the throat while running past. And that was a shame, because that had not only been useful but she still had enough of an American teenager inside her to recognize how cool that move must've looked. Those thoughts flashed through her mind, taking less than a second, but she had still been distracted for that short time and the agent noticed it.

Rising up to his full length, the man took a couple of steps—fast enough that Dawn wasn't able to take advantage of his sudden lack of cover. By the time she had managed to throw another knife he had already dropped to the ground again, having secured his position even better than before.

There was no more time to waste, not when she thought about the other patrols that were around. Letting go of the body Dawn flipped backwards, only allowing her right hand to briefly touch the ground halfway through in order to boost her momentum.

The agent obviously hadn't expected that, leaving her with a brief respite during the time it took him to adjust his aim. A respite that she hoped would be enough. The moment the sound of her first shot had shattered the silence, a mental clock had started running that indicated when she could expect the reinforcements to appear. Two more patrols were on their way, apart from whatever men were hiding among the barns, and they would arrive very soon.

Realizing she had to deal with this agent before the next group arrived, she silently vowed to do so. She also knew that meant she couldn't waste anymore time thinking about things that weren't directly concerned with her situation. She needed focus. She needed clarity. So she took what she needed. It would be a time before this personality would once again be fully integrated in her normal behavior, but as her eyes narrowed she couldn't care less.

This was what she was born to do, and the fool before her was only another target like the dozens of others that she had already dealt with. Everything that had no direct connection to her target or personal safety disappeared. From the memories of what had happened earlier that day to the pain in her arm that she had believed was already being ignored.

Like the internal debate, the change itself only took moment, a period of time so incredibly short it would have been practically impossible to measure it. The effects, on the other hand, were more than noticeable. The moment her feet finally hit the ground she was already moving again, running through the trees on a course that tried to achieve what the agent had just done to her. And like him she was successful in evading the other's aim while doing so.

Bullets slammed into the trees and ground around her, but it wasn't long before her tortured ears were greeted with the silence that followed the click indicating an empty magazine. No matter what kind of weapon you used, sooner or later it ran out of bullets. And once that happened… Death would be knocking on your door.

The agent tried to reload as fast as he could, but it didn't matter. Not even going for his sidearm could have helped him in this case as she was already standing in front of him, having pushed her body to its very limits in her attempt to reach him in as short a time as possible. One quick thrust later and she could watch while the corpse sank to the ground.

Gurgling sounds accompanied that behavior, but the constant barrage of sound from the M-16s ensured she was barely able to hear anything. Which couldn't be good, as more men were about to arrive. Not bothering to even try to spot them in the dark night, Dawn started her preparations. There wasn't much time, and her work here was far from over.

X.X.X

"We have confirmation sir. The target has breached the perimeter," one of the agents who were supposedly protecting Riley suddenly broke the silence that had fallen in the room after they'd heard the sound of the M-16s. Not that he cared about what the man said, as a matter of fact he was debating whether it might not have been better if the Hunter had made her move yesterday.

"Status?" That bastard Mansfield demanded.

The agent remained silent for a moment while he checked both the information on his laptop, and the auditory input he was receiving. "I don't have her on the monitors yet, but teams one and three have reported the gunfire we heard. Team two is no longer responding."

"Impressive." For the first time Riley could actually hear something close to respect for the Hunter in Mansfield's voice. "Don't you think so, captain? It can't have been easy for her to kill one of these patrols. They were good men."

Riley answered the question with a glare, but Mansfield only smiled at that before continuing his speech. "Yes I know they might have taken her out. But if that was the case I'm sure the survivors would have reported in by now."

"Sir?"

"Yes Brooks?"

"We've estimated her approximate location."

Mansfield waited while the man suddenly had a thoughtful look on his face, but when the silence lasted too long he became impatient. "Well?"

"S-sorry sir, I was listening to the report from team one."

"What do they have to say?"

Once again the agent brought his hand to his ear so he could better hear the input he received there. "They have found the place of the initial altercation."

"Where?"

"Location D-5 sir."

Mansfield obviously didn't care about the co-ordinates it was given and simply repeated his question. "Where?"

"A small crop of trees to the south-west." Oh there, Riley immediately recognized the place they were talking about and he too was now suddenly very impressed by this Kirika. Aside from those trees there was no cover around there. Unless she'd managed to hide in a ditch he had barely fitted in as a child. Oh the memories of those days. Had the situation been different thinking of the times he tried to climb those trees would have brought a smile to his face.

"Very well. It took her long enough."

Indeed, it had taken the woman a long time to reach them, but at least she was coming. And no matter how low he'd estimated the chance of ever feeling like that, he was happy for it.

Mansfield however obviously didn't feel any danger as he sat down again in the chair facing Riley, and put his feet on the table. The table that his parents had put in this room after he'd accidentally ruined it ten years ago. "Don't you agree with me, captain?"

Riley only looked at the man in surprise; obviously he'd missed part of the conversation.

"She's good, isn't she?"

As there was no reason for him not to agree with that statement he continued glaring at the agent desecrating his parents' home. How dare that man do this? How dare he do this to the place his parents had worked so hard to build up? How dare he… No, suddenly he reeled back into his seat. He couldn't think about that now, that was simply too much to handle right now.

"I see that you agree with me, well I can't say that I'd expected anything else from you." Ignoring Riley again, Mansfield turned back to his men. "How long will it take her to reach the second line?"

"That depends sir."

A heavy sigh was heard then, and it was obvious to even an outsider like Riley that the men didn't like that sound. If the way they stiffened was any indication, he wasn't the only one who hated the man. "Do you get paid for making smart comments?"

"Well sir, actually," the only female agent in the room started to say.

"No you don't. You get paid to make informed comments. Ones where you don't need to act as if you're all high and mighty! Now give me your best damn shot at when she'll be here!" Wow, now that was a sudden outburst.

"Yes sir!" The agent shouted, nearly jumping to her feet. "Based on her sense of tactics, and need for safety I expect that she won't be here until about half an hour from now."

"Right. And knowing how good you are at these estimates I have a feeling that it won't be more than fifteen minutes before she's standing at the front door. Brooks," Mansfield barked before turning to the communication specialist, "any updates from the remaining team?"

Remaining team? Riley wondered, weren't there two left? Or had she actually managed to take out a second? "No sir, they report being in pursuit of the target, but it seems like she's moving away from the farm."

"Away? Well, well." Mansfield had a thoughtful look on his face while he considered this information. "It seems you might be right after all Bennings. How good for you."

"Thank you sir." The woman answered in a resigned tone, confirming Riley's suspicion that the agent knew she was next in line to be sacrificed to the Hunter. What was it that kept these people from rebelling?

"Sir," came the suddenly excited voice from Brooks, "team three has her in sight, and is engaging."

"Excellent news, agent. Now tell-" Mansfield was cut off by the muffled sound of an explosion. "What the hell was that?"

Brooks was already holding his ear again, a habit Riley really started to dislike. "Team three has encountered some kind of booby-trap consisting of powerful explosives. Casualties were heavy. Only one survivor reporting in, and he doesn't expect to live much longer." Right, Riley thought with a mental snort. There was no way that anybody would report an event like that in the tone or words that Brooks used here. Obviously some major editing had taken place in his choice of words.

"What's his problem? That's the sound of defeat, you aren't dead until your body has been placed six feet under. Tell him to continue his mission." And that was obviously the reason for the editing. Riley almost felt sorry for the agents that had to work under a complete and utter bastard like that, and it also made him wonder why they didn't engineer an 'accident'. Or simply blow his brains out for that matter.

Meanwhile the expression on the agent's face started to show the impact of the reports he was receiving. Although Riley doubted the messages could in all fairness be called reports. "I don't think he'll be able to do that sir. He only barely survived, and he's now saying that the Hunter is coming for him."

"Then tell him to shoot her, do I have to think of everything myself?"

"He's incapable of doing that sir. But, oh fuck." The sudden curse came loud and even Riley had regained interest in the situation as Brooks broke protocol and revealed the agent's name. "Haden reports she's wearing one of our radios sir."

Once again it was only the situation that kept Riley from displaying any emotion, otherwise he would have undoubtedly burst out in laughter at the look on Mansfield's face when he heard that. While it was strange that the agent reported that she had a radio—shouldn't he be trying to save his life? There were other questions as well.

Riley had no idea how or when the Hunter had taken the radio, but it was obviously before the team reached trap she'd led them into. How she got it wasn't the most important thing though, that position was held by the fact that she actually had been able to listen in on all the reports being made.

To be fair, the agents had done their best to prevent her from listening in by not only using an encrypted channel, but also locking the radios themselves. But by the terrified looks on their faces, nobody had predicted she might take a radio for which the code had already been entered. Not that he was going to complain about it though, in fact he hoped she'd use the information she'd just acquired to kill each and every one of them.

"Switch to the backup channel and tell everybody to go to plan Omega. And you start packing up your stuff, we can deal with your incompetence later. She knows about the cameras now, so we've lost that advantage as well, for the moment at least. Once we've relocated you can provide the survivors with more information."

Sure, Riley thought bitterly, as if Mansfield was planning on letting the field agents live. Most of the people around him in this makeshift command center were probably indispensable to the man, but the rest were about to be sacrificed.

"Ah captain," Mansfield suddenly turned his attention back to him, "aren't you happy that you're about to become a true hero? I can already foresee so many medals in your future; it's simply amazing. Riley Finn, son, husband, soldier, hero. Don't you think that will make a great headline? Just imagine it."

Oh yes, that would sound really great, Riley thought bitterly, directing his attention away from the smirking man and back to the chair next to his. For the past couple of hours he'd done his best to ignore the smells coming from there, but he knew that was all in vain. With every breath he took he could smell the blood and other bodily fluids that had oozed from the body.

The body. How could he even think of her like that? But, he consoled himself, that was probably due to shock. It was still hard to believe what had happened. One minute the two of them had been happy with the agents that were setting up shop around the farm so they could try to catch the Hunter, and the next…

The next minute they had, for some inexplicable reason, put a gun against Sam's head, pulled the trigger, and chained him to a chair. The thought of that horrifying moment was enough for Riley to once again scream his defiance at Mansfield. Only to be muffled by the gag that was kept firmly in his mouth, by what felt like half a roll of duct-tape.

"Oh relax, captain. You're not seeing this the right way. This is a war, it might not be against another country, or even terrorism, but it's a war nonetheless. And in every war there are casualties. Tomorrow people will turn on the news and see an image of the brave captain who stopped this remorseless killer.

"They will be happy he managed to do so, as it makes them feel safer. And they will be even more happy that it was that captain who caused her death, as he was already so victimized by her. Having lost both his parents and wife to her deathly actions. Actions that even continued in his hometown where she killed a young widow and her two children. One of whom was only a little baby." Mansfield shook his head before he continued his monologue.

"However, there is one little thing that needs to be done to complete the story of the brave little soldier. You see, while people love heroes, there is one thing that they love even more. And that's a dead hero." The moment he finished those words, Mansfield suddenly opened up Riley's stomach with a knife.

At first he didn't feel any pain as the cold knife dug into his body, but the shock wore of quickly and he screamed as loud as he could through the gag. Instead of leaving it at that however, Mansfield started to twist the knife, hurting him even more and doing irreparable damage to his body. And then, in order to speed up his approaching death, the bastard pulled out the knife and thrust it in Riley's chest, piercing his right lung and effectively silencing him.

Pulling the knife out, the man sniffed it as if he was savoring the smell of the blood. Luckily that moment passed quickly, or so Riley thought. Because once he was no longer focusing on his shiny knife Mansfield dipped his fingers into the excruciatingly painful wound in his stomach. The pain once again increased, and was starting to become too much. He didn't pass out though, he wouldn't give the man that satisfaction. Dimly, Riley wondered why none of the other agents even opened their mouth to stop Mansfield.

But like their boss, all of them had their backs turned to him at the moment. Unlike Mansfield though, they weren't writing anything on the table. Writing something with blood, his blood, and to make matters worse the bastard even needed a refill. Once Mansfield was done, he wiped his fingers on Sam's jacket and grinned at Riley. "Just in case she survives. Now then. Bennings, I want you to stay here and release one of the captain's arms. Once he's no longer able to effectively use them, naturally. Brooks, Peters, McAndrews, you three come with me. It's time we left this hellhole."

Not bothering to look around anymore, he walked out of the room and in the direction of the stairs. The other three didn't follow him immediately, but regarded their soon-to-be-sacrificed comrade first. "I'm sorry Alice," one of them started but no matter how much Riley tried, he couldn't follow the conversation. The wound was starting to take its toll and he could no longer stave off the encroaching unconsciousness.

He thought he could hear her say she forgave them, but any reply they might have made was missed completely. His head was starting to sag, and he was desperately trying to make his peace with the world, when suddenly he was once again awoken by even more pain.

Another pair of fingers had appeared in the wound to his stomach in order to collect some blood for writing Wide-eyed he looked at the agent that was now writing a second word to the table. It was only when she turned around that he could see what she wrote down, and he couldn't agree more with the word written down there. The agent only shrugged when she noticed his look. "Like the man said, she might actually survive."

X.X.X

Standing with her back against the wall, Dawn took deep breaths to calm her racing heart. She was standing next to the back door, but without current information on the defenses that she would encounter on the other side, she didn't feel like taking any chances. It was a shame that she'd been so sloppy with the agent who'd survived her little surprise. If she'd simply shot him from a distance he wouldn't have been able to tell his colleagues about the radio she'd taken.

Taking the radio hadn't even been something she'd thought about, until she was holding it in her hands. It came from the second patrol that she'd killed, the patrol that had arrived mere moments after she'd watched the last agent of the first team die. And despite the fact that she could use that agent's M-16, that fight hadn't been any easier than the first.

Even her wounded arm hadn't stopped her from taking the powerful weapon and turn it on the newly arrived team. Once again the silence was broken by the sound of bullets being fired, and men dying, as she tore through them with the weapon of their colleague. Like she'd noticed earlier, at such a short range their armor was incapable of stopping the bullets and the ones that weren't fast enough to move paid the price for their overconfidence.

They never stood a chance. But as always seemed to be the case, there just had to be one opponent among them who was good enough to stand against her in single combat. And that was the one to survive. How could it be any different? The difference between them was large enough though that she didn't need a lot of time to finish him. And once that group had been completely wiped out, the next was almost upon her and she decided to do it a bit differently this time around.

Before she'd attacked the first group, and after deciding on the spot where she'd do so, Dawn had gone back a couple of hundred meters in order to prepare a surprise. And this time around she had enough time to lure them after her. Yes, she might have been able to defeat them like she had the other teams, but why take the chance? Everybody already knew that she had arrived, the radio she'd taken confirmed that, so why shouldn't she let the C4 handle these people?

And now, an indeterminable time later, she had finished killing everybody who wasn't inside the house. The house where she knew her target could be found. Unless they'd left. A short shake of her head was the unspoken response to that idea. They were still here, this boss of theirs was far too overconfident, and wouldn't have thought of retreating until it was too late. That didn't mean she should wait any longer though. So, turning towards the door, Dawn carefully eased it open.

A first glance into the kitchen the door led to showed no sign of any agents. With her silenced gun in leading the way, Dawn stepped inside and quickly turned to check behind the door. Seeing nothing there, she looked around for possible exits, but noticed only the half-open door leading to the hallway behind.

With no place for anyone to hide, she believed the kitchen secure, and moved forward. Once again a door was carefully eased open, only to uncover an empty hallway and a complete lack of any resistance. Where were they? Shouldn't this entrance be covered as well? They hadn't left had they? The possibility of success for this mission was suddenly becoming slimmer, as she realized that perhaps they hadn't been as overconfident as she'd thought.

Nowhere in the house could she hear sounds indicating that she wasn't completely alone, but she kept resisting the overwhelming urge to turn around. Even if there wasn't anyone here, there might still be clues laying around. So, she went on until she encountered the stairs leading to the upper floors.

The moment she spotted the the bottom steps, Dawn froze and moved closer to the wall. Silently hugging the wall, she moved forward until she had a better view, without exposing herself to enemy fire. But as she had half feared, there was nobody taking advantage of the spot, leaving her even more convinced that she was alone in the house.

There was a good possibility that she'd find information up there, should she try to find it now? No, she shook her head in denial, the first order of business was to secure the ground floor. Even if she didn't think there was anybody here, she couldn't take the risk that she'd missed someone.

Quickly she set out for the living room, the most likely command post for the team hunting her. The door leading there wasn't even partly closed, and even from a distance it was obvious that the room hadn't been used for that purpose. Maybe the agents had never even been in the house, had their leader directed them from elsewhere.

Alright, so they were smarter than she thought they were. Damn. Still, there might be something useful in the house, so she should look around for clues. Stepping into the room to do just that, Dawn was surprised by the creaking sound of a door behind her. Quickly she turned around, only now noticing the small door hidden beneath the stairs, but it was already too late. The punishment for her lack of attention to her surroundings was coming towards her with blinding speed.

The impact of the bullet pushed her back, and for a moment she could only be thankful that it hadn't been a burst from an M-16, but she immediately focused on more important matters. The bullet had hit her left shoulder and the mere thought of how close to death she'd just come triggered an instinctive reaction.

While allowing herself to fall backwards, offering a smaller target for the shots that came after that first one, Dawn aimed her own gun and returned fire. Even before her body touched the ground, and her enemy had managed to fire more than an additional two shots, she had succeeded in killing him. She could see the single round mark she'd created in his forehead before her attention was drawn to the pain in her shoulder as it impacted with the floor.

Only her training, and unwillingness to show any weakness, kept Dawn from screaming out loud, but even so she couldn't keep completely silent. Trying to ignore the agony, but with tears in her eyes, she realized how lucky she'd been to survive this mistake of hers.

Had the bullet hit her any lower it would have pierced the lung located there, or even her heart. Both wounds that might have killed her if she wasn't treated fast enough. Treatment that she would never be able to find here. Her eyes flew open as she suddenly realized something. These people didn't work alone, where was this guy's partner?

Moving to a sitting position she put the gun in her left hand, while her right took hold of the ruined shoulder in an attempt to discover the amount of damage inflicted on it. No! Safety first, treatment later. Letting go of the wound she wobbly raised herself to her feet and tried to discover if there was anyone else on this floor. There weren't many rooms left to check though, and she came to believe that the man who shot her had been the only one around. Which made sense as anyone else would have rushed to his aid after hearing that shot.

That didn't mean there wouldn't be anyone waiting for her once she got back to the stairs, but for now she was safe. Taking a clean sheet from a closet she bound her wound tightly. It would stop the bleeding and allow her to continue on, but once she was away from here she would need to see to it that she got professional help.

Reloading her gun, she walked back to the stairs and repeating her earlier actions, she looked up, only to spot a single woman awkwardly holding a gun. From the way she was revealing her position it was obvious that whoever this woman was, she probably was even worse at hiding than at shooting. Even so, Dawn had had enough of taking chances for one night.

Looking at the woman's clothes she determined that this was one of the agents hunting her, so there was no point in underestimating her. The woman did have a good view of the room, but wasn't experienced enough to use that effectively. This could be a trap of course. Who knew, there might be someone else waiting for her to take the bait presented by this golden opportunity?

Even if that was the case, Dawn realized that she'd never be able to go upstairs if she didn't take the woman out. So she did.

Had she been able to hear the bullet being fired, the agent still wouldn't have stood a chance as the carefully aimed shot went through her brain. The impact threw her against the wall she was next to, and splattered blood all over it, but Dawn was only focused on the possibility of another agent suddenly showing up.

When after several minutes the lack of any movement seemed to indicate she was safe, Dawn took her first steps up the stairs. Having learned her lesson earlier, and with her wounds as constant reminders, she moved slowly. Once again slow progress was far better than taking yet another useless risk. An attitude she kept throughout the rest of her excursion.

Advancing through the hallway she entered every room she encountered as if it was full of people trying to kill her. But all of them were devoid of anything human, almost making her believe she was alone again, until she stood outside the door at the end of the hallway.

"Bennings reporting in, all clear here," came a female voice from inside. They were still reporting to each other, but unfortunately she couldn't hear the response. A code had been demanded when she'd tried switching to another channel on the radio she'd taken. And none of the other agents she'd encountered had their radios unlocked.

None of that mattered though. The only thing that mattered right now was that there was somebody inside this room. But instead of immediately jumping into the room, Dawn waited until the woman inside spoke again. Once she knew how long the wait between the reports was, she could attack. Just like she'd done with the patrols.

"Bennings here, all clear." Great, the foolish woman thought she was cute by rhyming. Let's see what she'd think of dying then. With a look of determination on her face, Dawn kicked the door open in a move that was quick, brutal, and meant to surprise everyone inside the room.

Except… There wasn't anyone in the room, alive that is. It didn't take Dawn long to spot the corpses of her target and his wife, but there was no sign of anyone else in the room. But where had the sound come from then? Looking around in sudden confusion it was only when she noticed the laptop sitting on the table that she had a suspicion about the origin of the voice.

Carefully walking into the room she tried to spot any traps; the sound of voices coming from the room had her convinced the door was safe, but even that had become questionable. But so far the rest of the room see-. There, were those motion sensors? Freezing her movement, Dawn looked for anything they might be attached to. No wires, great that meant they sent radio signals.

Not that there were all that many possibilities, she was standing in the middle of a deadly trap. Explosives, this place was rigged with explosives. She should leave, now! Despite these feelings however, she looked the sensors over again. They were aimed at the door. Aimed in such a way that they should have triggered the explosion when she kicked it open.

No way. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat, but it was obvious this hadn't been luck. Yes, it was a factor, but there was no way she could have been lucky enough that the sensors could have failed to trigger the explosives. Somebody had helped her. Feeling she was safe for now, Dawn walked over to the laptop in order to examine what other things had been done to help her.

Someone had not only put the various cameras on a loop, some of which, she was ashamed to admit, she hadn't even spotted, but had also for some reason done something that would send a status report every couple of minutes. And it was unlikely those reports differed much, Dawn didn't doubt the fact that they would all say that she hadn't arrived yet. But why? It didn't make any sense, and wouldn't the bosses have discovered something when they'd contacted the man under the stairs?

But no, now that she thought about it, Dawn realized that the agent didn't have a radio. Which only served to confuse the situation even more. Just like with the night vision, why weren't these people equipped the way they ought to be? In fact, before seeing this setup she had come to believe they hadn't used any radios inside the house. Had the woman had one? She hadn't looked for it, and couldn't remember if she had. But that didn't change the facts she was facing now. Why would someone help her? Why would they go against their orders?

Dawn had no intention to stop thinking about a possible reason, but while she did that she might as well check out the bodies. And wow, that was brutal. Sam had been executed from behind, probably before she'd even noticed anything was wrong, but the target…

He was chained to the chair he was sitting in, and had been gutted there. Why had they gutted him? Wouldn't it make more sense to kill him quickly? Just in case she'd come sooner than they'd expect? And what was with the writing on the table?

"Committee. Mansfield," she whispered the words. They were obviously written by two different people, neither of whom was the target. If they'd wanted her to believe that the target had written it they should have untied the correct hand.

This situation just kept getting stranger and stranger. Before she had a chance to think of a possible reason for all this though, the radio next to the laptop crackled and a voice spoke through it. "Bennings? Report in."

"Bennings, no sign of her yet." Nice, the program was obviously meant to respond to voices as well. Good thing her whisper had been too quiet to be picked up.

"We think there's something wrong with the cameras. The Hunter should have arrived by now, could you check them out?"

"This is Bennings, all clear." Oh, oh. They were about to find out something was wrong; obviously the program couldn't handle a real conversation.

"Bennings? This is Mansfield, I order you to answer the question, you useless woman." This time the voice belonged to someone else and part of the mystery was solved. This Bennings obviously didn't appreciate being sacrificed and had therefore set all of this up. Why she'd gone this far was still a big mystery, but at least she knew who'd written one of the words on the table, and why she'd done that.

"Nothing here, Bennings out."

But this Mansfield sounded as if there was something else. Her eyes went wide when she suddenly realized what that something else was. The explosives were remotely detonated, and it was likely there was some sort of backup for it.

Not wasting another moment, Dawn started running toward the windows as fast as she could, while over a mile away Mansfield was about to push a button.

X.X.X

Soldier Hunter killed by target!

Heroic captain takes revenge for massacre in small Iowa town.

Des Moines, Iowa

The town of Greensville, Iowa was shaken up last Tuesday by a visit of the Soldier Hunter. Unlike before however, the killer no longer constrained herself to killing members of the military. During her visit to this normally quiet town it was not only her assumed target that received her attention.

Aside from her target, the man's wife and parents have also been found dead, as well as a family of three and the clerk at the local motel.

The family, widowed Miranda Hutchkins (27), her son Brad (5), and daughter Mary (6 months), had been at home when the Hunter entered their house and brutally shot them. Investigators assume this was done to have a base of operations after she had killed clerk Rick Jackson (21) earlier in the day, forcing her to leave her room at the motel.

The day before these brutal murders, the Hunter had already hunted down her target's parents, Andrew (53) and Trudy Finn (49), killing them while they were spending the night in a neighboring town. During the night she then went after her target who was spending his leave at his parents' house. Together with his wife Samantha (24), Riley Finn (24) was most likely surprised when they were visited by the Hunter, but rallied himself magnificently.

Instead of simply giving up when faced with this boogieman of all military personnel, he fought her to a standstill until in the end he met his match. But even while gutted, the soldier did not simply give up, opting instead to trigger a powerful explosion that did not only take his own life, but that of his attacker as well.

Statements from both the Greensville sheriff and a spokeswoman of the FBI have provided additional information about the Hunter that has thus far been kept secret. Among this information is the long suspected, but never confirmed, fact that the Hunter was in fact a woman.

Continued on page two. See also The Hunter's victims, article on page three.

Due to these events, Senator Wingfield has renewed his proposal to curb violence on television and in video games. Details on this proposal can be found on page sixteen.

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Thanks to everybody for their reviews so far.