A/N: I got my new phone and it's cuuutteee! It's all pink and precious and is called a KATANA. Supar bored and want to call/text me? My number is 400-2379 in area code 615. Now on to the story!

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'Tout le monde, bon matin,' said Matthias Poulain, stepping up to the podium in front of the room of people in his Geneva estate. 'I'm sure you're all curious as to why you've been brought here today for this meeting.'

Typically, in a group of people, there would be murmuring at this question, but a room full of assassin managers and regional supervisors tended to be relatively quiet. They all stared at him, waiting patiently for the answer.

'As you know, we have recently enacted a new rule within the society that disallows indiscriminate massacres to be managed or planned by our operatives. Some of the branches of the society have been affected negatively by this new rule, and I would like to formally apologise for this. However, I would like for all of you to know why the board and I have decided to make this change.'

Jackson looked around carefully at the other people in the room. Some he recognised from working with them—Lyna, Ian, the head of the New York American head office, the leader of the African head office in Cape Town, and a few others such as Melissa's mother—but most were foreign to him. He was told by Lyna upon arrival that every regional leader—one each from Europe, Asia, the Middle East, North Africa, South Africa, North America, South America, and Australia—had come with the heads of each important field office within important regions of activity. She'd assured him that this was something new; never in her twenty years or Ian's thirty in the organisation had either of them heard of a meeting like this.

'It has come to our attention that the terrorist organisation Al-Qaeda has been planning a huge-scale attack on the United States. You all know that in the past, we have worked with terrorist organisations to support their stances on the position of the world and to uphold our motto, fiat justitia et pereat mundus. However, I made the decision about this embargo because of the sheer scale of the attacks planned by these terrorists.'

Jackson piqued an eyebrow, looking at that man at the podium warily. Beside him, he could see Lyna do the same thing.

'Our aim in this society is to quickly please the customer without too much ado. In, out, done. In times of war, we gladly arrange massacres of government enemies. Our own Jackson Rippner planned the ones in Algeria just a few years ago that killed thousands of civilians,' Poulain said with some pride and Jackson could feel his face grow red, but he wasn't sure if it was from anger or embarrassment. 'But tempora mutantur et nos mutamur in illis: times are changing, and we change in them.

'It is my personal opinion that masses of people should not be killed without warning of the impending death. In times of war, it is expected that there will be civilian casualties, so we have agreed to give our services to the dominant parties in volatile countries. This attack that we have been informed of by the Middle East office, however, is on mass unarmed civilians. I'd now like to invite Ghodsi Pedram, head of the Middle East office, to the podium.'

A number of people looked at the area where the Middle East office delegates were sitting and watched as the stately woman who headed the office walked up to the podium.

'Thank you, Monsieur Poulain,' the woman said to him with a smile before turning her attention to the front. 'Everyone, it is my great displeasure to inform you that the terrorist organisation Al-Qaeda, whom we have done business with before, has been planning an attack on New York City in America. They are working out of Miami and plan to use flights out of Boston, New York City, and the District of Columbia for their attack on the Financial District's World Trade Centre. Because of this information, we have decided to move the head offices of the organisation in America to Los Angeles, on the opposite coast.'

The regional director of New England and the Eastern Seaboard based in New York stood. 'If this is going to affect the region so badly that we're being forced out of the city, why aren't we warning the American government?'

Pedram stepped to the side and Poulain came back up to the microphone. 'It has been our rule since the beginning to avoid involving the authorities of any given area as it compromises our interests.'

'Yes, but in all respect, sir, this is a pretty big thing to keep from the Americans.'

'The board and I have already come to our decision on this situation. Our people and their families will be relocated, and if there is any hint that anyone within the organisation leaks information to anyone within the national or local governments, he or she will be dealt with most severely.'

Under Poulain's glare, the man from the regional office sat back down.

'Are there any other questions or concerns?'

Jackson stood. 'Where are operatives working in the area supposed to report?'

'We will be halting all operations in North America until further notice.'

Finally the room broke into buzzing conversation. Jackson sat back down and looked at his assassins, who sat on either side of him. Lyna was uninterested, having been on the blacklist of entering the United States by Poulain himself after a near capture by the authorities back in her early days in the society, but Ian was gritting his teeth. He lived between Miami and Rio de Janeiro, but the brunt of his American assignments were increasingly in the United States as South American guerrillas took over what would have formerly been his job. This was going to affect all of them, but it would hurt the people confined to the Americas the worst.

'Do we have any idea when this attack will take place?' asked a meek-looking woman from the Canadian Québec regional office.

Pedram stepped back up to the microphone. 'We haven't yet found out a specific date, but we know that they are aiming for some time in the first half of September. We believe that it will be some time during the span of 3 to 18 September because those dates cover the span of the negotiations for the Camp David Accords.'

'Does this have anything to do with Saddam Hussein?' asked the New York regional director.

'We haven't yet determined that,' admitted Pedram.

'One hundred dollars says 11 September,' whispered Jackson, leaning over to Lyna.

'Why 11 September?' she asked with a raised eyebrow.

'That's the day that the current President's father threatened use of force against Iraq back in 1990 after Hussein invaded Iran,' Jackson replied. 'So, basically, the beginnings of the Gulf War. Last time I checked, people are still sore over that one on both sides of the Atlantic.'

'I think it will be 18 September,' she said back with a smirk. 'That is the day that the Peace Accord was signed, so that is the day everyone in the Middle East remembers.'

'I'll take 5 September,' said Ian from the other side. 'The day the peace process actually started at Camp David.'

Jackson sighed loudly and leaned back in his chair with his hands behind his head. 'I'm gonna enjoy those two hundred dollars when I come to claim them on 12 September.'

'One day, you will fail,' grumbled Lyna, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair, looking to her other side.

'Oh-ho,' he said, looking at her with a grin. 'Jealous because I'm not barred from entering the most powerful country on Earth? Would you like me to send you some blue jeans and soft toilet paper when I get back home?'

'I will tell you where to put your country,' she growled, shoving her fist up under his chin.

'Children, children,' sighed Ian. 'Poulain is speaking again.'

'I will personally be keeping in touch with the eight Continental Delegates regarding the resumption of assignments in North America. If there are no more questions, then you are all free to go except for the members of the New York offices, of course,' he said, and people started to get up. 'Also, if Jackson Rippner could please stay.'

Jackson watched as everyone except him and the two New Yorkers left the ballroom. Lyna dragged behind everyone else, staring between Jackson and Poulain. Once the last person, Lyna, left, Poulain's butler closed the doors to the room with a loud snap that echoed from the tile floors to the dome ceiling. He stared at the doors until Poulain called for his attention.

'Jackson,' the old man said, walking down from the stage. 'There's an emergency and we have two months to evacuate our employees from New York City without raising too many eyebrows. What do you do?'

Jackson tipped his head a bit, puckering his lips in thought. 'How many employees need to be evacuated?'

Poulain looked at the head of the New York regional office and the man cleared his throat. 'Operatives and their families, we have twenty-one. But if you count general workers of the offices, what would you say?'

The Americas office leader lifted her hand from her Daytimer and chewed on the end of her pen, rolling her eyes to look at the ceiling. 'Altogether, fifty-three in the regional and continental offices.'

'Are they concentrated or spread throughout the New York City area?'

The American Continental Delegate flipped a few pages in her Daytimer to a map of the New York City area. She clicked her tongue a bit as she bent down to look at it closer. From Jackson's seat, he could see that there were little dots all over the map and a huge group of them melded into a splotch of dots over Manhattan. A few were in Queens and Brooklyn, but most were on the east side of Manhattan focused in Murray Hill just south of the United Nations building.

'They're... pretty concentrated.'

'Poor planning,' said Jackson with a sneer.

'We didn't expect to have to evacuate at any time,' spat back the Delegate.

'Enough,' said Poulain. 'Jackson, my boy, what would you recommend?'

'Does every employee at the office know what the real aim of the organisation is?'

'No, there are some who consider it a real office and think—'

'Then those people will be left in the city. How many does that leave us?'

The Delegate pressed her lips together. 'Twenty-eight.'

'And those twenty-eight must be the ones in Murray Hill. Normal office workers wouldn't be living there,' said Jackson flippantly. 'Unfortunately, you put them in the same neighbourhood, but not the same building, so we can't say... infect a building with mould to give them an excuse to move out. No, that would be far too easy.'

The woman narrowed her eyes at Jackson but said nothing.

'What a predicament,' he said, enunciating every word. 'Well, to start, close the office immediately. Hm… demographics?'

'Seven single, four couples, three families of three, one family of four,' said the regional director.

'All American?'

'No,' replied the Director. 'Four of the singles are foreign nationals, two couples have a foreign national, and one of the families of three has a foreign father.'

'What countries?'

The man thought for a second. 'Russia, Norway, Turkey, Spain and Belgium.'

'Send them to the closest field offices to their home countries,' said Jackson quickly. 'We'll cover it as a reorganisation of the society. The closing of the office there needs to be very public so that the neighbours of our members know it very well. How many does that leave?'

'Three single, two couples, two families of three, and the family of four.'

'Young children?'

'Both families of three have children under the age of two,' said the Delegate. 'One is my family.'

'And the family of four is mine,' said the Director.

'Well, the Director and Delegate won't be hard to move, very good. You'll be sent directly to Los Angeles, I'm sure,' said Jackson, looking to Poulain for affirmation. Once he gave it, he continued. 'So three single, two couples, one family of three. Send the family of three to...' he paused for a moment. 'The Chicago office.'

The Delegate flipped to another page in her Daytimer and started taking furious notes in the note section. Once she finished, she looked up to Jackson. 'And...?'

'The remainder need to be actively looking for jobs outside of the organisation just like their civilian counterparts will be, but because they live in Murray Hill, there will be more of a press to get out of the city and into cheaper housing. Their emigration needs to be staggered over the remaining month-and-a-half. The last should leave no later than the eighth of September.'

'But Delegate Pedram said that the range of attack is 3 to 18 September,' said the Delegate.

'I have money on the 11th,' said Jackson, suddenly more cocky that usual. 'I'm quite confident that it will happen then.'

Poulain smiled as Jackson leaned back in his chair and smirked at the two New Yorkers.

The Delegate snapped her head to look at Poulain. 'Did he plan this attack?'

'No,' said Poulain harshly. 'He's just very good at his job.'

Slowly, she took a couple more notes and closed her Daytimer, slipping the pen back into her suit pocket. 'Then we're finished here?'

'Indeed we are,' said Jackson, not even bothering to check with Poulain this time. 'Sir, if I may have a moment...'