Two men sit in a dark room. The first is a dark man sitting at his desk. Untrusting, he has his chair turned away from his visitor. This visitor, a slight, disgusting man, has a tired face. His voice is high and shrill. He looks ashamed as the dark man scolds him…

"He's alive?!"

"Yes sir. It was Diana, chief. She came in and took off with 47 in hand."

"Dang it man, my eyes haven't turned gray in five days." The nervous man tensed when the dark figure mentioned this. The figure continued angrily. "You couldn't have done anything?"

"No sir." Said the man, growing even more nervous. "I'm no good with fighting. I was there to observe. I just escape with the necessary information, in case anything goes wrong…uhhh…which it did."

"Obviously." The annoyed, dark figure muttered.

"Why do you think they call me the Escape Artist? Like when I escaped from 47 in the forest. I'm always able to relay you useful information."

"Yes, I've heard. And this talent of yours is the only reason I keep you around. Not to worry though. 47 will be dead soon."

"Who was your hire? Was it the mob again?"

"No. I hired a specialist from my cabinet. They call him The Doctor."

"Oh, the clone? Ya, he's real dangerous. Scares me half to death, but I hear he's a great hitman."

"Maybe the best hitman. Right up there with 47. I need you to call The Doctor tonight. Tell him to hunt and kill the girl, but bring me 47. Alive. Then tell Pistol that I'll give him 47, new and improved, within the week."

"Yes sir."

***.

"I brought the necessary tools to extract the serum." Diana had been pinching and prodding at 47 for the past 15 minutes. He hadn't said a word since he woke up.

The bed they were sitting on was lumpy. Uncomfortable. Still, the room had a home-like feel, the colors were very warm and inviting. Comfortable. 47 was not sure where they were, or even how they got there.

"This might…will…sting. A lot." Diana dug a thick, strange looking tool deep into 47's skin. Even with 47's high pain tolerance, he struggled not to scream. Diana pulled a lever back on the tool, and 47 physically felt the pain drained out of him. Suddenly, the tool made a clicking noise. 47 felt a shock move throughout his body, and he fell into unconsciousness once again.

He woke up just seconds later. All pain was gone. He inspected his shoulder, which now was in a sling. The bullet had been removed and the wound sewn up. That had been a nasty injury. It had nearly taken his entire arm off. While 47 thought about what kind of bullet could do that kind of damage, he remembered the bullet wound in his foot. He examined it, and found that it had been stitched up too.

He looked up to see Diana stitching herself up. Her white shirt was also covered in blood, of both hers and 47's.

"Diana." 47 was still shocked that it was really her. That she really saved him from capture, even death. She cared about him, and was now sitting right by him, in the flesh.

She looked at him and gave a half grin. "Just removing some shrapnel. That stuff is kind of tough to take out."

"What happened?" 47 began to massage his temples. He didn't remember anything since she saved him from the mobsters at the mansion.

I came to help you out. I figured you were in trouble. When I got to the mansion, I saw your car in the house, and I got in from there. Some police cars were there, but some mobsters already got to them."

Diana started to look sad. "They killed them all. At least eight cops. Dead. Mobsters don't usually go off like that." Diana looked up at 47. "Something bad is going on at The Agency."

"I figured that part out." 47 was still massaging his temples.

"Anyways," Diana continued. "I brought a grenade, you know, just in case. And I followed the carnage," She paused, as 47 remembered all the mobsters he killed. He gave her an apologetic smile. "And I found you in that room with all those mobsters, and they were injecting you with the control serum. So I threw the grenade and ducked behind the door, but I guess I didn't duck fast enough." She pulled another chunk of metal out of her right side with a pair of tweezers. "There was plenty of shrapnel in your body too. Luckily I'm a master at getting that stuff out. You get some practice at stuff like that when you're a trained war medical professional like me.

47 looked around the room. He had many questions, but he started with the first one he thought of. "What is control serum?"

"Control serum is what you inject into clones when their mindset needs to be…changed." Diana answered. "It knocks you out cold, and then your mind can be reprogrammed to do or think whatever someone wants you to. In this case, I'm guessing it was the mob."

47 pondered for a while. "What would the mob want with me? How would they even know about me?"

"Beats me." Diana answered with a half a grin. 47 thought for a while. He stared at Diana. He was amazed by her beauty. He thought that she was very efficient. She had a lot of brains, and he didn't think her looks were too bad either. Her hair was shoulder length, with red and black streaks. She was thin, but not completely. She was also pretty tall. Like him. He liked that.

Ever more questions, he asked another one. One that he was surprised he didn't ask sooner. "Where are we?"

"My sister let us use her apartment for the next few weeks. I didn't tell her anything, she just thinks that you're my new boyfriend and we need a place to stay." She smiled again, as she pulled another piece of metal out of her side. "5th floor. We're perfectly safe up here."

47 only wished that she was right. But he knew that she wasn't.