Chapter 6

Ilia nearly fell four stories when the earpiece abruptly began to vibrate, a man all but shouting into her ear, "Amitola? Are you there?"

"Code names!" She hissed back, focusing more on making sure her grip on the balcony's edge was secure than on being polite. "And lower your voice dammit!"

"Sorry." Perry, who really needed a better alias than 'Pear', quieted somewhat has he resumed speaking. "Uh, we're in position ma'am. Lash, I mean. Sorry. Uh, security only did one check of the upper floors of the garage, now they're mostly staying on the ground level and watching the ways in. We can shoot up the cars whenever you give the signal, and we've got our escape route planned."

She felt her teeth grind as she cautiously hauled herself up, checking to make sure there weren't any lights on this particular floor. Thankfully the sliding glass doors were dark on the other side, which let her heave her body up and over the half-wall. She landed on the concrete floor of the balcony, staying in a crouch as she caught her breath. "Fine, good job. Next time just stick to telling me you're ready."

"I...uh, yes. Understood. We're ready."

"Good. Stay in position until I give the word." A tap against the earpiece changed the channel before he could say anything in reply, "Driver, we're nearly set. Status of the party guests?"

Berg Tukson was easily the most competent member of the city's White Fang membership, and she'd chosen him as the get-away driver for precisely that reason. He was also the one with most qualms about what they were doing, or at least he was the one being the most obvious about his misgivings. Not because he didn't think Winchester didn't deserve it, but because he feared that the backlash would do more harm to the faunus.

Which she'd admit to worrying about as well, so she couldn't really throw stones.

"Good news, everyone on the list has arrived." He replied calmly, "Bad news, Headmaster Ozpin of Beacon showed up after all."

Ilia swore under her breath, evidently not quietly enough because he let out a grim chuckle. "Yeah. Do we abort?"

She hesitated, thinking furiously.

Four weeks hadn't been nearly enough to establish a proper cover identity, especially not one noteworthy enough to be invited to something as high-end as the 'VNN Firefighter's Support Gala'. Not when a fifteen thousand lien donation to said firefighters was a requirement for entry. Nor was it enough time to try and take the place of one of the serving staff. Winchester had hired extremely high level caterers who weren't about a bring in a random huntress. And they would definitely know who should and shouldn't be present, so trying to hit one over the head and replace them was out as well.

Which left the old White Fang standby; pairing a diversion with a stealth infiltration.

Perry and his team of relative amateurs were lurking in the nearby parking garage that was being used to hold the limousines and luxury cars of the rich and famous. Vandalizing and-or destroying the high priced vehicles was a fairly small, fairly petty bit of violence that would still send a message. And, more importantly, it would draw attention. Hopefully pulling most of the security staff away or at least distracting them long enough for her to get to her target and let her do some property damage of her own.

But getting to her target would be a lot harder if there was a huntsman of Ozpin's caliber present. He wasn't even supposed to be here; there'd been an opinion piece in the news suggesting it was a token courtesy to invite him to practically every single event in the city, and that he'd never shown up to the prior years' events. They hadn't even bothered planning on what she would do if he or anyone else of his level showed up.

...shit. Maybe we'll get lucky and the diversion will draw him away.

"We proceed." She exhaled, "The High Leader herself ordered this mission. I'll handle it."

Tukson sounded extremely dubious. "...all right, if you say so Lash. Driver is ready."

"Check." Ilia tapped her ear once more, shutting the device off. Then she took a few critical moments to double-check everything. Her mask was secure, her hair was tied into a tight braid near her neck, Lightning Lash was loaded and ready, and she had eight extra dust vials plus three grenades attached to her belt. She also had a knife in each boot, just in case, and a silenced pistol holstered on her left thigh. The last would hopefully be the means by which she accomplished her mission, everything else was just in case she had to things the hard way.

The very, very, very hard way if the Headmaster of Beacon was present.

All right... no more delays. Time to fight for the faunus.

Licking her lips, she switched back to Perry's channel and murmured, "This is Lash. Go."

"Going." Perry replied, this time avoiding most of the extra dialogue. An amateur maybe, but he wasn't an idiot, and he'd seemed to pick things up quickly these past few weeks. "For the faunus."

"For the faunus." She murmured before closing the line.

Part one in motion, she slid over to the door and checked it. Locked, fairly surprising consider they were on the fourth floor, less surprising given that Winchester probably had plenty of enemies beyond the White Fang. More fortunate was the fact that the door was as old as the house; its lock was physical rather than electronic. Still, she wasn't about to force it just yet, not until its opening might go unnoticed. So instead she fell back to the balcony's half-wall and waited.

The security teams must have been on alert because it didn't take them long to realize that their charges were being attacked. Distant shouting and crashing was followed by muted gunfire, which in turn drew panicked shouts and screams from the various hangers-on hoping to catch a glimpse of a celebrity or two. Their cries drew more security types out of the mansion and into the streets, letting her watch from her vantage point as lights began to flash.

Her balcony wasn't a corner one, and she couldn't see much of the street even if she leaned around the wall. She could tell there was movement, but couldn't get a good enough view to let her know if Ozpin or even her target had gone racing out to investigate.

Hopefully yes to the Headmaster, hopefully no to the racist.

Turning back to the door, she pulled one of the dust canisters from her belt and eyed the handle. Using raw dust really wasn't her strength, but she knew the basics. And for this, that should be enough.

A very slight spray of purple mist combined with a gentle of push of her aura began the process. The gravity dust crystallized at once, something vaguely like a ball of shadow appearing for a few seconds as it pulled everything nearby towards it. Everything included the old lever-style lock on the side of the door, which twisted slowly upwards before clicking once.

Ilia let out a shaky breath and quickly pulled her aura back in, glancing nervously as the glass. It must have been very high end because it hadn't cracked, or even warped... which meant any alarms tied to the glass's integrity hadn't gone off.

And now we see if they're so paranoid their security is running on a fourth floor balcony doorway.

Her fingers lightly wrapped around the handle and pulled, the glass door sliding a few inches before she froze and listened.

Nothing.

Exhaling, she drew her semblance in around herself and pulled harder, opening it just enough to let her squeeze in. A gentle push closed it behind her. The darkness inside didn't bother her, save for the general lack of color, and a glance around revealed a large but fairly plain bedroom. There was a distinct lack of any personal touches, meaning it was probably intended as a guest room. Not a place she'd be likely to ambush her target from.

It was a few paces to the door, which opened to reveal an equally dark hallway. Not hesitating for more than a moment, she set out and began prowling through the home's top floor, letting her semblance drop to conserve aura in the absence of guards or visible security cameras.

Another guest bedroom, one that looked like it belonged to a family member, and then an over-sized bathroom later, she found a stairwell. Strictly speaking it probably would have been smarter to find the master bedroom and lurk there until after the gala, but that might also involve the man's wife and she had no idea how culpable the woman was in her husband's activities. In the absence of any evidence to the contrary she would assume 'not very' and try not to commit a double-murder.

So down the stairs she went, moving slowly and cautiously.

The third floor brought lighting and the general hum of distant conversation, but no immediate people. Ilia slowed her pace all the same, keeping a firm grip on her weapon with one hand while the other lingered near her dust vials and grenades.

For once, luck was on her side. While the first door she checked proved to be a storage closet, the second opened to a very well appointed study. A broad oak desk was the centerpiece, while old flags on freestanding poles, a liquor cabinet, a grand fireplace, war paintings, and ornamental weapons provided the kind of ambiance that rich old men seemed to love. Especially those who fancied themselves warriors.

In other words, it's perfect.

Quickly shutting the door behind her, she strode over the desk and started yanking open drawers. Actual paperwork filled most of them, which was unfortunate since she had nothing to carry it out with. However the central drawer slid open to reveal access to the table's computer system, along with a pair of detachable drives. Those she pulled free and pocketed before trying the desk itself.

"Dammit." She muttered when a cheerful display requested a password.

Ilia didn't even bother trying further. Her hacking abilities were more or less limited to picking up the computer and handing it to someone who actually knew what they were doing. Since that wasn't an option here, she simply shut it down and started back towards the door. Her hand was just about to touch the handle when raised voices and the hard sounds of boots stomping across hardwood began to draw closer.

Drawing on her semblance she quickly retreated behind one of the Valean flags, grabbing the pole it was mounted on and pulling it a step back to give her a shadowed corner to linger in. Her skin rippled to charcoal grey as her hair darkened to black, and she forced herself to remain calm as she waited.

Not more than a minute later the door all but slammed open to let three men stride in.

"Outrageous!" An absolute bear of a human in a dark suit, close cropped red hair streaked with gray, led the procession. His voice was as deep as his chest would indicate, and he was clearly the source of the angry shouting. "Those animals continue to prove themselves to be traitors and yet all I hear is you defending them!"

Alabastor Winchester.

"I don't care for your using of that word." The next man was far slimmer, and older, with an almost wild shock of gray hair cut in no real style. His suit was more professional than ornamental, and a cane lightly tapped the ground with each step. "The faunus have every reason to hate you given your actions and attitude. One could even say tonight's events were predictable."

Fuck. Ilia swallowed and will herself to think silent thoughts lest one of the most powerful huntsmen in Vale notice her.

"Mother did warn you, father." The third man was more of a boy. A teenager who looked ill at ease in his own suit, but whose physical similarities to the lord of the house made their relationship clear. "She told you to bring in more security."

"I brought in the Headmaster of Beacon himself, who apparently can't recognize dangerous subversives even after they set his car on fire and shoot mine to pieces!" Winchester snapped back, "And I told you to remain at the party, Cardin."

The boy's expression turned defensive. "You also said I needed to start taking my training seriously! Sitting on a meeting between you and the Headmaster seemed like a good way to start!"

Ozpin smiled, "The boy isn't wrong, Alabastor."

Teeth ground together before he replied, "I meant combat training, Cardin. I refuse to see you get punted around Signal's training rings by that blonde barbarian again. It was bad enough when the Bronzewing's were taunting me over your failures, now I have to listen to that drunken oaf pretending to teach you mock me... we'll deal with that later. For tonight get down to your mother and tell her to make sure our guests know I'm handling the situation."

Cardin Winchester glared at his father, then turned and stomped out without a word. Ozpin watched him go while Lord Winchester yanked open his liquor cabinet, chose a bottle, and poured himself a glass. He took a fortifying sip, nodded once, then walked to his desk and settled down without offering his guest any courtesy.

For her part, Ilia narrowed her eyes to slits and focused on taking slow breaths as her semblance continued to slowly eat at her aura.

"You hardly need me to call insurance agencies and berate your choice of security staff." The Headmaster noted when the silence dragged on for more than a minute. He evidently didn't feel like sitting, instead simply leaning on his cane as he spoke. "So I can only presume that this is another of your misguided attempts to change my enrollment standards."

"Misguided!?" Winchester practically roared the word, his anger coming right back. "Those beasts killed my father, my mother, and even now they destroy lives! They're terrorists at best and enemies of the state at worst, they should all be rounded up and-"

"That is enough!" Here she'd though Winchester's voice was loud, Ozpin's own reply nearly made her clap her hands over her ears.

"Enough." He repeated more quietly, thumping his cane once as he seemed to shake and gather himself. "I tolerated your prior phrasing because this is your home, and I your guest, but no more. Your parents died in war. A war they both opposed as you well know. Were your father still alive he would have-"

"He isn't." Winchester spat in reply. "It doesn't matter what he might have done because some dog eared bastard killed him in his sleep! The same kind of person you seem to love teaching how to be even better killers. Mark my words there will be another war from those ungrateful little creatures, and you are giving them all the help they need to prepare."

"Beacon admits all who wish to learn." Ozpin said, his voice as flat and cold as a sheet of ice. "That will not change."

Winchester's face twisted in anger, but he somehow avoided shouting further. "Fine. You'll regret it, I swear it... and my son will never study under you, nor will you ever see a single lien in support from me or those who see sense in this city."

"Cardin will have his own choice to make, when he is old enough." The Headmaster turned and began walking for the door. "And you will find our finances quite secure. Perhaps you should have bothered to check what Beacon's resources are before attempting to threaten me with cancelling your donation. And no, you don't need to bother. I'll be refusing any of your 'aid' regardless."

That evidently served as the of the conservation, because he turned and strode out without a farewell. Winchester stewed in furious silence, his chest heaving with angry breaths as he glared at the closing door, while Ilia lurked and felt somewhat better about Vale than she had just a few minutes prior.

"Animal loving idiot." Winchester muttered to himself, throwing back the rest of his liquor. "He'll regret it. I know it."

Ilia watched from her place in the corner as he irritably started up his desk's various screens and quickly typed out some kind of number. A moment later he was again shouting, this time at some kind of insurance representative. Keeping her breathing steady, she settled Lightning Lash onto her hip and then drew the small pistol as slowly as she could. Her semblance and Winchester's general distraction worked together to keep her hidden, letting her make sure the silencer was secure before she disengaged the safety.

The argument had been enough to quiet most of the uncertainty she'd felt over killing in cold blood, but as her fingers tightened around the weapon's grip she felt her heart sink a little in her chest. The man was a racist asshole of the first order, that much was certainly true. He'd done harm to the faunus across Vale for his entire life. He didn't deserve mercy.

But that didn't change the fact that this wasn't a fight. She wasn't defending herself in the heat of battle.

She was about to murder someone.

Wait...

"You'll have an agent at my address within the next hour or there will be hell to pay!"

Wait...

"You damned well better!" A finger slammed down to end the call before a fist slammed angrily onto the desk. "Useless idiots, all of them!"

Now. Ilia exhaled, raised her pistol, and then pulled the trigger.

The sudden, sharp motion in an otherwise still room must have been too much for her semblance because he started to turn in her direction. His angry expression shifted into puzzlement as he tried to work out what he'd just seen... but he didn't get the chance. It wasn't enough of a warning to engage his aura, and by the time he'd seen the suppressed flash of her gun the bullet had already impacted his left eye.

His head snapped back as red sprayed over the painting of a battlefield behind him, his body slumping in the chair. Ilia swallowed and stayed very still, listening furiously. The sound of a silenced gun was a lot louder than what most people assumed from movies, but it wasn't that much worse than a book slamming against a shelf.

Or a broad fist hitting a desk.

After nearly a minute there was no sound of rushing feet or alarms, and she cautiously stepped out and approached the body. The smell was already growing, making her stomach churn as she shakily walked around the desk to see that the back half of his head was practically gone. Things she'd really rather not have seen were entirely visible, and she quickly averted her eyes.

Taking another moment, she shuddered once and then quickly pulled a small bundle of cloth from one of her pockets. The flag of the White Fang unfolded before she let it fall over the ruined features, hiding everything from view even as it proclaimed just who had ended the man's life.

"You deserved this." She muttered as the pistol returned to its holster. "You deserved this, for everything you did."

Blood dripping onto the wooden floor was the only reply he gave.

Sucking in a shaky breath, and nearly throwing up from the smell, she quickly backed away and turned for the door. It opened into an empty hallway, and she wasted little time in heading for the stairs that would take her back up. Any thought of doing more damage was well and truly out of her mind. Her only focus was on getting out of this damned building as soon as possible... property damage could wait until her hands weren't shaking.

She took the stairs two at a time, and only realized that the fourth floor's hallway lights were on when she'd already begun moving along it.

"Alabastor?" A woman's voice called from ahead, making her all but slide to a stop as a tall woman with dark hair walked around a corner, a blue dress half covered by a fur lined coat. "I already spoke to our guests, I'm changing into something warmer so I can try and calm the crowd outside before..."

Her lightly lined features were blank in surprise as she stared at Ilia's mask, dark eyes flicking up and down, taking in her clothing and weapons before a shaky hand rose to her throat. "Oh. Oh gods."

Ilia steeled herself and dropped a hand to her weapon, drawing it free as she lowered her voice into a rough growl. "He deserved it."

The new widow's mouth quivered and she took a slow step back. "Oh gods... I warned him. Gods... was it... fast?"

Against her better judgment, Ilia gave her a very slight nod before speaking. "You need to get out of my way."

There was a tiny nod, a sob, then the woman staggered to one side. Her shoulder hit the wall and she slumped, falling slowly to her knees as her body shook. "God's... Alabastor... gods..."

Her stomach rolled again at the honest anguish that the man's wife was displaying, and she wasted no time in starting forwards again. Lightning Lash was kept ready but not quite aimed at the woman, who did nothing but continue to cry and choke as Ilia moved past her.

Whatever luck had been with her so far had obviously run out, because as she neared the guest room at the end of the hall another voice called. "Mother!? What's wrong...who is that!?"

Ilia snapped her head around to see the teenage son staring at her from the stairwell she'd come up, his expression somewhere between rage and terror.

"Fuck." The word came out as a hiss as she turned and ripped the door open. Cardin Winchester let out a furious sound behind her as she ran through the dark room for the balcony door.

She shoved it open and was on the balcony just as the young Winchester stormed into the bedroom, his long legs and the now-open doors helping him catch up. Ilia took a split second to rip a grenade from her belt, double-press a small button on the side, and toss it over her shoulder before she vaulted the balcony's wall and dropped.

A pained snarl came out of her throat as she caught herself on a third floor window sill, her eyes snapping up in time to a rush of mist and snow flare out from the white-dust filled bomb she'd just detonated. There was another furious sound, then a masculine cry before something exploded in the room she'd just left. The entire balcony simply erupted in a flash of fire and steam, rubble pelting her as she lost her grip and fell once more.

Instinct had her legs extend, kicking off from the wall and letting her tuck as she fell. Her aura flared as she hit the ground hard, her upper back and shoulders striking first as she rolled. The motion and aura saved her from a broken spine and paralyzation, but it didn't help the rush of pain that had her slow to get up as she gasped in pain.

Fortunately for her, the teenager chasing her wasn't as experienced. He was probably still in the part of his training where he thought aura made him all but invincible.

He threw himself out of the gaping hole in the side of the building, flaring his own aura as he came down. His soul's protection saved him from a pair of broken legs, but the sheer pain of landing on them made both of them buckle, leaving his ass to strike the ground and his mouth hanging open in a silent scream.

Scrambling up to her feet, she gave him a single look before tearing across the small grounds to the privacy wall. A hard jump got her hands atop it, and she heaved herself up and over in a single motion.

Even more sirens began to blare in the city around her as she cut across the tiny but manicured yards and gardens that surrounded the other tower mansions in the neighborhood. Leaping various fences and walls to avoid going anywhere near the street, she came over the last one to land in a narrow alley between one the estates and a bank that catered to that particular bracket of wealth. Moving to her right got her into the service alley that supported the bank and businesses farther along, and to where a single dark van was idling.

Its engine rumbled into gear as she sprinted to its rear, yanking the door open before leaping inside.

"Go." She hissed, trying to get the door closed and her incriminating gear off at the same time. "Casually as you can!"

Tukson gave her a hard look in the rear view mirror but he got them moving forwards regardless, "What happened?"

"He's... The target was eliminated." It was easier to say it that way, for some reason. "I was on my way out when the son spotted me. His semblance made a mess of things, but I got away when he did something stupid."

"...let's hope Khan is right and this actually helps us."

Ilia closed her eyes and breathed, her spots flaring a dull blue while she fought the urge to throw up as she remembered the slumped body and the sobbing widow. "You didn't hear him in there. The man was a screaming racist. He was trying to force Ozpin into not letting faunus into Beacon. He deserved it."

"Not saying he didn't." Tukson replied as he swung them out into the street, joining what little traffic was around. "Just saying I hope it doesn't backfire. You get anything else?"

"Two thumb drives." She replied as she pulled her mask off, setting it aside and starting on her her weapon's belt. "If we're lucky there will be good data on them, or at least things we can release to make him even less sympathetic."

"Hn. Not a bad idea." He nodded, "One of our girls is a tech support worker in her daily life. I'll call her in tomorrow. How far should we go before we ditch the van?"

"Other side of the river, find a parking garage without cameras." She pulled two fire dust vials free from her belt, then tossed the belt onto the floor. "We'll burn it out to make sure there's no evidence left. Then it's on foot back to headquarters and I'll send the completion message."

And hopefully this will make people take us seriously... so that I don't have to do it again.

Please read and review, criticism is welcome, flames not so much, as usual. Reviews are my lifeblood as a writer.. every-time my email goes off with a review it makes me want to write more, so please take the time to leave one. Guests can leave them as well, and it only takes a minute, so please. Even if it's as simple as "I enjoyed it, please continue."

Thanks, Kat