Authors Note.

This is going to be the only Authors note that will be at the top of a chapter. First off welcome to the story my first story to be exact, reviews are welcome and if you want to discuss something you don't agree with and why I welcome PM on the subject.

Flames and I mean the message that doesn't describe why they believe what they say and insults myself or others will be removed.

Thirdly, this story takes place right after the end of John Wick, but all characters from John Wick Chapter 2 & 3 are canon.

Fourthly any other human language in the story was translated from English using Google Translate, so mistakes probably were made.

And finally, the action in the story and the thought patterns of John Wick is based on KTWizards story "A Man of Focus" with his permission. I highly suggest you check it out its one of the best stories I have ever read, now onto the story.

A man in a high-class suit, dark black hair salted with bits of grey that draw the light of the room, sat calmly. He continues to read a datapad, the room only illuminated by an orange and red glow given off by a dying star. He started to take a drag of his cigarette as he watches a figure slowly appear before him.

"Commander, its good to see that your mission was completed even with the slight... complications that Warden Kuril gave you by withdrawing from our deal." Said the man, as he puts out his spent cigarette.

"Thank you, though I reckon you must be annoyed by losing the money you spent to acquire Jack TIM.," Said a man with short dark black hair, his face clean-shaven encased in black armour. A pair of white stripes and a single red stripe ran down the right arm with the writing N7 on his chest.

"While it is unfortunate that Cerberus funds were wasted on Kuril. It's a sacrifice I am willing to make to ensure humanities safety among the Terminus and beyond Commander" Stated TIM, otherwise known as The Illusive Man.

"I had EDI contact you for more than a debriefing Commander." Continued The Illusive Man as he slid a finger across his datapad to send a data package to a datapad of Miranda's, with an order to take it to Shepard.

"Recently someone that could be an asset has made themselves known once again in certain circles that Cerberus takes a keen interest in. The asset is a master marksman, an expert in Hand-to-Hand, he's one of the premier operatives in the Galaxy. Any other information you will need Miranda will have, do you have any question Commander?" Finished The Illusive Man as he lit a new cigarette.

"Just one, what the operatives name?" Asked Commander Shepard.

The Illusive Man eyes start to give off a light glow as the new cigarette bud burns. "John Wick"

"Almost." States a man who according to the nameplate on his is Abram Tarasov looking out his office window onto his workers moving everything he owns into cars and trucks to be ship out.

"Sir, with all due respect, are you sure this is our best option? I mean, why can't we just correct the problem?" Questions one of his most trusted subordinates.

"Because my fuckin' nephew killed a dog." Abram depressingly states "And he stole a car. A car... which currently is among our inventory."

"So we're giving everything up for a car?" Once again questions the subordinate.

"It's not just a car. It is John Wick's car." Abram angrily states.

"Oh." The subordinate says while swallows deeply.

"Sir, why don't we just give it back?" Asks the subordinate.

While this conversation is going on, a man in a black suit. His face shielded by the darkness walks up to a door and unlocks it with a golden pass.

"He killed my nephew, my brother and a dozen of my men. Over his car and a puppy, and you... you think he will stop now?" Questions Abram.

"Sir, he's one man." Resumes the subordinate "Why don't we just eliminate him?"

"John Wick... is a man of focus" Starts Abram.

"Commitment... and sheer fuckin' will!" Finished Abram.

Moving towards an area of this warehouse, a worker lights a cigarette. It illuminates the area around him, he stands still, enjoying the smoke and tasted of tobacco. Out of the darkness behind him comes a man. Dark brown eyes focus on the man before him, oblivious to the danger that faces him. The man moves quickly, throwing his hands over the worker's mouth, burning them with the cigarette. Gripping the worker's neck tightly, he twists, snaping it with an audible crack

"He once killed three men in a bar..." Starts Abram in the office.

"With a pencil, I know. I've heard the story." Cuts in the Subordinate.

"With a fucking pencil!" Exclaims Abram in disbelief "Who the fuck can do that?"

"I can assure you that the stories you hear about this man if nothing else" Continues Abram "has been watered down."

The first man would then spin his chair around and look back out the window, seeing the final trucks leave. Then, as he goes to get up the phone rings, both men's heads snap to the phone. Shakely, Abram slowly picks up the phone from the receiver.

"Da? (Yes?)" Answers Abrams. His hand is barely holding onto the phone, the pressure from the last week's events has gotten to him.

A voice comes through the other end and says "U tebya moya(You have my)... mashina. (Car.)"

The phone slips out of the Abrams hold as he whispers "Baba Yaga".

*BANG* a body slams into the ground after it's shot off an overpass. John ignores it, he still has five targets to take down.

*BANG* *BANG* two shots, one through the leg to expose the head, and a second to the head, a confirmed kill.

*BANG* *BANG* *BANG* *BANG* *BANG* *BANG* *BANG* *BANG* *BANG* *BANG* *BANG*

He weaves in behind a large SUV, allowing it to take the shots. Glass shards soar overhead, but he ignores it them, the pieces aren't his focus. Two hostiles, one armed with an M-4 Shuriken, it has twenty-four rounds per thermal clip, a three-round burst firing method, low accuracy and high recoil but fast-firing.

The other armed with an M-3 Predator; fifteen rounds a thermal clip, single-shot firing method, medium accuracy and recoil but lower stopping power.

The Shuriken takes a moment to aim properly. A quarter of that for those that are well trained. He would not call the rabble of what's left of Viggo's men well trained.

But that's just an advantage that he not complain about. He starts counting the shots from the Shuriken. Fourteen...eleven... eight, he moves around the front half of the SUV *BANG* firing one shot into the left shoulder of the wielder of the Shuriken, lower his priority.

He still has to focus, closing the distance, he throws a palm into the throat of the Russian, grasping his wrist and forcing the gun in it to face the Russian on his left.

Putting pressure on the Russians hands, he forces him to fire the gun, *BANG* *BANG* *BANG* *BANG* *BANG* *BANG* unloading six of the last eight rounds into the chest of the other Russian, possible kill but not confirmed.

He sweeps one leg behind the legs of the Russian in his grasp, tripping him. He then spins his leg to knock the Russian gun out of his hands *BANG* putting a round into the Russians cranium to finish him off.

The other had just started to turn as he fires the sho. Too slow He grimly thinks, snapping his gun up*BANG* *BANG* *BANG* *BANG* He puts two round each into of the Russians heads.

He spins his hands *BANG* firing one round into the skull of the downed Russian to his left, confirming the kill, he continues to push forward.

*BANG* *BANG* *BANG* *BANG*

He rushes behind a wall to hide from the income shots from the Russian's M-6 Carnifex. He peaks out, raising his pistol in a flash and *BANG* *BANG* *BANG* fires three rounds into the last Russian, two to the thorax and one to the cranium.

The last of Viggo's loyal men are taken care of by the Boogeyman. He proceeds up the stairs to his right. Entering the room, John comes face to face with Abram Tarasov, brother to Viggo Tarasov and Uncle to Iosef Tarasov. He did not begin this task with the intent of being here, but fate rarely leads to where we want to go.

"John Wick" Draws Abram "The Baba Yaga."

"Mir? (Peace?)" He replies, grabbing a bottle of Vodka from Abram stores in the room. He reaches from a set of glasses and starts to pouring two shots.

"Mozhet li takoy chelovek, kak ty, znat' mir? (Can a man like you know peace?)" Suggests Abram. A good question, how can a man that has lived his life as a killer ever find peace. In his opinion, it is more than possible.

"Pochemu net? (Why not?)" He answers, and that is true, there is no reason he cannot live in peace.

"Huh," Says Abram, grabbing the glass "Mir(Peace)"

They clink their glasses in a cheer, both finishing the shot in one go. He places the glass onto the desk, turning to leaves but as he does Abram gives a parting shot. "Priyatnogo vykhoda na pensiyu, (Enjoy your retirement) Mister Wick"

He looks back if anyone else said that to him, he would have taken those words as a threat. He has never responded well to threats, but Abram had just made peace with him, and Abram is good to his word. He turns his back, then turns and leaves.

"He's in his fifty's!" Shepard exclaimed in shock after reading a portion of this "John Wick's" file.

"Yes, 52 to be precise, with current medical technology most humans can live to be 150 Shepard." Stated Miranda Lawson, second in command of Cerberus Lazarus cell and the Normandy SR-2 with a razed eyebrow.

"I know that Miranda, my point is most people retire from this lifestyle by that age." Responded Shepard as they walk towards the S-2s Cockpit.

"He did, from what we understand he once again entered the lifestyle for an undiscovered reason, then he pursued his past associate and boss Viggo Tarasov and Viggo's son Iosef Tarasov." Responded Miranda.

"He proceeded to cut a bloody swath through Viggo's men and his operations over three days, culminating in the death of Viggo, his son and over 70 of his men." Continued Miranda.

"I can see why TIM says he would be an asset." Mused Shepard, he must be very skilled.

"TIM?" Questioned Miranda in confusion.

"Just something I have taken to calling The Illusive Man. The first letter of each part of his name T, I and M making TIM." Explains Shepard as they enter the cockpit.

"Commander, Miranda" Greeted Jeff Moreau AKA Joker. Joker is the finest pilot the System Alliance has ever produced. Shepard has known the man since their hunt for Saren with the original Normandy. Back then, Shepard had the support of the galaxy behind him. Now all he has is a terrorist organization and any friends he still has left.

"Joker set a course for Earth we have a new team member to pick up" Orders Shepard, Anderson is going to have a field day trying to keep me out of jail.

"Oh, what is it this time? A Quarian Biotic or is it a Cyborg Turian Supersoldier?" Quips Joker.

"A formerly retired human hitman named John Wick" Answered Shepard.

"I suppose that is interesting enough. Can he kill with a plastic spoon? Or does he have some tragic backstory with the Collectors and is waiting to settle the score?" Stated Joker, his usual witty nature coming out to play. "In all seriousness Commander, we will be at Earth in about 10 hours."

"Understood, EDI, I want Miranda and Garrus notified when we get into Sol" Commands Shepard.

"Understood Shepard, is that all you need?" Ask EDI, the Normandy's AI. He'll never get used to that. Having an AI that most likely reports anything that he does to a terrorist organizations leader. Not his idea of a good asset, at least Miranda is upfront about wanting to know everything.

"Yes, that is all" Stated Shepard.

"Logging you out Shepard"

(Rewrite published 24th of December 2020)

Disclaimer I don't own either John Wick or Mass Effect.

Well, that a wrap for the first chapter, this is where you can expect both review response and all following Authors notes to be.