I don't own Disney and I don't own Eidos, therefore I am using the characters from Gargoyles and Hitman without permission.
Oh, this is set more in the Hitman timeline, so these events are occurring about early 2003-'04. I've made some assumptions about the gargoyle universe at this point, so…yeah.
Hey, sorry I haven't posted anything new in this series for awhile; that pesky concept of real life kept cutting down on my fun time. So, much delayed, here's my third installment; hopefully everyone still remembers the series!
Manhattan, 1993
It was night, and the shadows fell heavy on the half abandoned waterfront of Manhattan, where one of those innumerable dramas of the underworld was taking place, in the classic style of a standing man armed with a pistol looming over a groveling victim on his knees on one of the seediest sections of the docks.
"C'mon Glasses, you know I'd never rat on you guys!"
"Uh-huh. Sorry Ralph, but we got word form our guy in the feds. It was you who sold out Timmy and Vic."
"Than your guy was wrong man!"
"I doubt that very much, Ralph." a smooth voice growled from the shadows farther down the rotten wharf.
"Dracon! Thank god, man, you have to listen…"
The plea was cut off as the gangster suddenly drew a pistol from under his sport coat and slammed the barrel across the kneeling mans face, "Screw you, Ralph!" the mobster snarled, as he brought the pistol around and placed it against the kneeling mans now-bleeding forehead, "No one sells me out."
Dracon's finger began to squeeze the pistols trigger; and then, from the rear, the air was rent by automatic gunfire and shouted insults. "Son of a bitch!" Dracon snarled, as a bullet sliced through his suit and grazed his arm. He threw himself down behind a stack of crates, while Glasses turned his weapon on the shooters and fired as he dove for cover, "Its those fuckin' Russians from Coney!" the bespectacled mobster shouted as he caught a few of the shouted curses that could barely be made out over the roar of full auto gunfire.
Ralph, for his part did not seem overly concerned if the heavily armed shooter were Russian Mafia or Green Berets, as he took advantage of the sudden distraction and left into the polluted water of New York harbor and swam as quickly as a man with his hand tied behind his back could away from the developing gun battle and headed further down the coast.
Ten Years later, Chase Park Plaza Hotel, Manhattan
The world's top assassin sat one his customized Silverballer handguns on his lap and inserted a plain blue memory stick into the USB port on his laptop. After a few clicks of the mouse, he opened up his next briefing, than reclined in his chair and waited. After a moment, he typed in his access code, and than Diana's cold voice piped up from the computers speakers.
"Hello again, 47."
"Hello Diana." the assassin dryly commented, as he transferred his weapon to the desk top next to the computer. He then pulled out a left handed model of the same handgun out from under his jacket and began to break it down for cleaning. The recorded briefing kept on going as the assassin removed the automatics slide and held the barrel up to the light to see how much residue was in it
"…due to some recent revelations you've turned up, we have reviewed an offer for a contract we've had on the books for some time…"
47 stopped cleaning his pistol narrowed his eyes at the lap-top. Was it just him, or did the normally imperturbable Diana sound flustered? "…we were refusing the contract based on its rather…fanciful descriptions, but due to the recent discoveries you made on the Xanatos operation, we reexamined the contract, and now regard it as being accurate."
47 raised an eyebrow as his mind flashed back to the band of winged creatures that had nearly killed him in that damned castle in the sky… "The target is mafia informant, currently taking shelter under the city in an old Cyberbiotics research facility…" The bald killer shook his head; this was going to cost the Agency dearly by the sound of things.
The Labyrinth…
"New arrivals!" Talon cheerfully called as the heavy steel doors of the Labyrinths main entrance swung open, admitting a small band of transients into what might possibly be the safest shelter in Manhattan, if not the world. They were promptly greeted by Maggie, and after a few startled looks and gasps, the group returned the lioness' smiles, and she began to lead the crowd towards the Labyrinths kitchen area. Talon watched them go, the turned to his older sister, who had been standing none too patiently next to him through the whole process.
"Sorry about that, sis." Talon apologized, "I like to be here to greet newcomers, so they can get used to…well, you know." Talon extended his wings a bit.
'Over a decade later', Elisa thought, 'And it still shames him. I should have shot Xanatos when I had the chance'. Elisa knew that killing the billionaire who had so wronged her brother would have had very negative effect on the future of her dearest friends, but…still.
"Its alright Derek." she said, smiling.
"So what's eating you?"
Elisa shook her head,
"Remember how that assassin who attacked Xanatos left behind so much hardware?"
Talon nodded; as he recalled, the list included a sniper's rifle, a handgun, and some kind of uniquely designed syringe. "Well, somehow, after all that stuff had been collected from Xanatos, it seems to have magically disappeared from the evidence locker at the precinct house."
"What?"
Elisa nodded,
"Apparently, no one saw a thing either. And the surveillance tapes have gone missing too…"
Talon cocked his head,"Didn't Xanatos have some kind of surveillance from that night?"
Elisa shrugged
"Apparently the assassin took out his surveillance security systems before he made his move that night…or so he says."
Talon growled in agreement,
"You never can tell with him, can you?"
Elisa nodded.
"Anyway, buy you a cup of coffee?" Talon said, motioning towards the tunnel that led to the kitchen.
"Yeah, little brother sounds good."
The siblings headed towards the kitchen.
This was ridiculous. Not only had the briefing not included any details about the sheer size of the community leaving in these tunnels, it had also not mentioned anything about the reptilian winged creatures that 47 was currently looking at. They seemed to be exact recreations of the group he'd faced previously, albeit somewhat larger, with more bone spurs, photo negative skin, and beady red eyes…in any case, they were disconcerting, to say the least.
'So, that ramps the security forces up to about twelve. So long as there are no more surprises…'
The killer looked up just in time to see the panther-like winged creature walk into the room, along with the detective he'd shoot it out with at the Xanatos building.
47 pulled the collars of the ratty army jacket he was wearing up around his face, and then pushed the old Yankees ball cap over his face.
This could be interesting.
"Of course, now that I think about it, there has been a spike in the unexplained deaths area since that night in the castle…in fact, it even started before that, I think." Elisa told her brother as they sat down at one of the long dining tables in the kitchen; they were a few tables away from the group of people Maggie had brought here, but Elisa still had to raise her voice to be heard over the crowd, who were clearly overjoyed to be eating a hot meal in a safe place.
"What do you mean?" Talon asked, as he blew on the steaming cup of coffee in front of him in a vain attempt to cool it down.
"Sevarious."
Talon stared darkly at his cup.
"Really?"
"No forensics evidence, no murder weapon…professional job."
Talon shrugged.
"I guess."
"He was strangled to death with some kind of garrote, and if you run down his list of enemies, that doesn't fit any of them."
"How so?" Talon asked.
If Elisa though anything of the shortness of her brothers answers, she didn't show it.
"Lets see…If it had been say…Demona, she would have used a laser rifle or a mace…or her bare hands. Very messy. If it had been Thailog, same thing, if it had been Xanatos, Sevarious would have just disappeared, and…"
Elisa broke off her speculation when she that her brother was holding his head in his hands and was staring straight down at the table.
"Derek, what…"
"He was our last hope, Elisa."
"What?"
"For us to be normal…to be changed back…for my son to…"
Elisa's eye' widened,
"I'm sorry Derek, I hadn't thought about…"
Talon looked up at his sister, and blinked away a the tears that been forming in his eyes,
"It's okay Elisa…" Talon looked beyond his sister, and saw a child walk into the dining hall; he had wings, a tail, and feature looked like a cross between a lion and panther, along with a rich, light brown pelt. He surveyed the dining hall than made a beeline for a homeless man who was sitting apart form the others.
"It's okay." Talon repeated, as he suddenly became worried about what kind of trouble his son was about to get into.
47 looked up from the bowl of soup he had been absentmindedly spooning up while he thought of the best way to slip out of the room and complete his assignment when he felt someone sit down across the table from him.
"Hello." the newcomer happily announced. 47 slowly looked up from under his ball cap, and was surprised to find a child version of the furry winged creatures sitting across from him and holding out a taloned hand. 47 considered what to do for a moment looked past the child and saw that a good half of the people in the room, including all the winged creatures of both stripes, were looking at him expectantly. The assassin reached a hand out and shook the child's.
"Hi."
"My name is Michael, what's yours?"
"Metzger. Thomas Metzger."
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Metzger!"
47 tried to think of a more awkward time in his life, and came up dry. The two sat in silence for awhile, until finally the boy blurted; "Your not a good person are you, Mr. Metzger?" 47 looked up sharply, scanned the room and saw that no one seemed to have heard. He glowered at the child, but when that seemed to have no affect on the child, he decided he would have to answer. "No." he answered, truthfully; not for any other reason than that he couldn't think of a convincing lie.
"You do bad things, right?"
'God DAMN this inquisitive child.'
"Yes." 47 answered after a moments thought.
"To people?"
'I could kill him, but then the whole room would be on me.'
"Yes. They tend to deserve it though."
"Cool!" The boy said, somehow awed by the statement, "Are you like my dad?"
"What?"
"He beats up bad guys. He says it's not right because he not a policeman anymore, but he says it's ok because he's protecting people."
47 cocked his head; 'Are all children this pointlessly talkative?' it was really quite…endearing.
"No. Not like that." 47 leaned forward and whispered conspiratioanally, "I'm an assassin."
"Whoaaaa…like on TV?"
47 nodded, "But keep it a secret, alright?"
"Are you sure? I really think I should tell dad…"
47 briefly considered this result of his unexpected candor than thought of a solution, "Can you keep it a secret for a day, at least?"
Michael considered for a moment, "Ok…as long as I don't get in trouble."
"Deal."
The two sat in silence for awhile, than Michael blurted, "I bet you're here to get Uncle Fang aren't you?"
"'Uncle Fang'?"
Michael nodded, "He's a bad person. He like's to brag about how bad a criminal he used to be…"
'You really do have to love children.' "Oh really? I think actually might be here to see him."
"Cool, I guessed right! Do I get anything?"
47 shrugged, "We'll see. If you keep the secret until tomorrow, I think something could be arranged…and you have to tell me where to find your Uncle Fang"
Michael grinned, "He's in the cell block. It's down the corridor, than down the first tunnel on your left." 47 smiled.
"Hey! Mike! Leave the nice man alone and go get some dinner, ok?" the black furred winged creature shouted from across the room.
"Ok Dad!" Michael turned to 47 and winked, "Don't worry, I'll keep the secret."
47 hesitated for a moment,
"And Michael?"
"Yeah Mr. Metzger?"
"Remember that keeping secrets because strangers tell you to isn't always a good idea; even if they promise you things, alright?"
"I know, Mr. Metzger…but I could tell you weren't an all bad person before I came over here." 47 stared strangely after the boy.
'Kids…they seem to have the strangest notions.'
47 waited until the group began to filter out of the dining hall to take his leave, than he followed the boy's directions to the cell block. He was surprised to find another of the reptilian winged creatures on guard there. A dark skinned female with white hair dressed in a very tight leotard and red jacket sat in a chair in front of the pair of cells, reading a book and doing her best to avoid the stream of lewd comments that were spewing forth from one the darkened cells. 47 smiled; he recognized his targets voice from an audio clip. The killer pulled an anesthetic syringe form under his jacket and slunk forward with the drug poised in his hand. He moved quickly to clap a hand over the female's mouth, then slammed the needle into her neck and gave her a dose of very potent tranquilizer. She struggled fiercely for a few moments, then went slack.
Forty seven gently laid her on the ground, then dropped the used syringe into pocket on his worn out army jacket.
"Hey man! Let me out!"
47 turned to see a brown furred mutate looking expectantly back at him from a cell that was surrounded by an shimmering energy field, 'Well that complicates things a bit…' 47 though as he looked around for a way to open the cell.
"C'mon, man, let me out of here…hey if you want to have some alone time with Blondie out there, it's all good, just let me out before you have your fun, ok?" 47 looked at the creature with barely concealed disgust.
"And how, exactly, do I let you out?"
"Over there, man! Blue button!"
47 turned, saw a small control panel on the wall, and walked over to it. The blue button was labeled 'Release'; right next to it was an orange button that said 'Energy Field Power'. He hit the orange button,
"What? No, it's the blue button, man!"
Forty seven walked over a slid open a large slot on the front of the cell that seemed to be used to pass food and trash in and out of the cell.
"I have a message for you, Mr. Alvarro."
Fang sat bolt upright as he heard his old last name,
"W-w-what?"
"Tony Dracon wants you to know that no one rats him out and lives." 47 pulled his Silverballer, dropped to one knee so he could aim through the slot, brought the pistol up, and squeezed off two quick round into the mutates head before Claw could answer.
47 stood, verified that the winged creature's brains were splattered all over the cell's back wall, and holstered the Silverballer under his jacket again. He shook his head as he turned to walk away. He hated it when the client asked for a message to be delivered; it made him fell like a melodramatic ass.