Jon "Trev" Trevodur, now known as Jon Trevinski, sat in his chair. If you looked at him, you would see a bored man with a nondescript face, tall and muscular, but not overly so. A man who could just as easily pass for a business man as he would a laborer.
If you saw him, you would think he was slouching. But to the trained eye, his position spoke volumes. His arm, supporting his head lazily, was at an exact 45 degree angle. His legs bent at an exact ninety degree angle. His head wasn't resting on his palm, only made to look it. Even at a slouch, his back was straight, and he seemed to posses the smooth stiffness of the disciplined, motivated, and above all lethal, Marine he was. Even if it had been a long time since he had been on a drill pad.
Currently, the bored look on his face was a true expression of emotion. Get on with it already, he thought. Currently, the stiff in front of him was discussing the Rules of Engagement. Not that he hadn't heard it all before. Only one other person in the COVENANT Project had as much ease as not over killing on their missions. His name was Patriks, known as 07, The Eraser. Trev himself was codenamed 12, The Tracker.
It was only till he heard "Do not engage, under any pressure, unless forced to do so under the circumstances. Use only the -"
"Wait, wait, wait," interrupted Trev, "Who exactly do I kill?"
"If all goes as planned, no one."
huh?! "I am an assassin. Killing bad people is my job." he explained, "It gives me a warm and fuzzy feeling inside." It actually didn't. Not that he feels any remorse either.
"Psychopathic tendencies aside," this guy must have a death wish. And a good point, "This mission is a protection mission."
"But I'm not a body guard!" he exclaimed. It was true. He wasn't. If it was an enforcer, or bounty hunter, or any other offensive role he would be raring to go. He was getting bored, getting cooped up in Base HOPE IN THE NIGHTMARE. He was considering escaping and breaking into Fort Knox again. Maybe this time he would wear clothes. But as a defensive role, where he had to wait for the fight . Ironic, he had played Defensive Lineman in High School.
"You are for this mission," Stiff snapped. He started to continue with his Rules on Engagement. Knowing he had to put up with this bureaucratic nonsense, Trev genuinely leaned back in his chair. With most people, they stiffened when nervous. Trev seemed to go into a more relaxed state.
When Stiff finally finished, he pulled of a picture of a early thirties women with hazel eyes and short brown hair. "She is-"
"Kate Beckett." Trev finished for him. He visibly gulped, "She is an old family friend."
"Then she will be glad to meet you."
"Huh?!" he exclaimed, "What do you mean, meet me?!"
He pulled up another image. This one a grainy silhouette, "This is an assassin known only as Bourne."
"You're kidding," Trev asked. He shook his head, "Damn Hollywood."
"He has killed for every major criminal and terrorist group."
"Maybe he is just acting like the fictional Bourne. The one from the book and not the movie," he clarified. Seeing the confused look on Stiffs face, Trev groaned, "Aww come on! Don't you read? Anyway, the Bourne in the books only took credit for others kills."
"Nope. We have confirmed intelligence from a variety of video cameras."
"And this is the best you can do?" he gestured at the grainy silhouette.
"Unfortunately yes. This man is good, he knows it and he flaunts it. But he has a line he won't cross. Like you."
"Aww shucks," Trev said satirically, "And what do you mean, meet me?"
Stiff sighed, "We are going to try and draw him out. We managed to leak his file to him. He sees you as a challenger. We are going to use you to draw him out, and The Eraser will capture him."
"You're gonna let Patriks, boozing, moon-shining, a hair close to an alcohol induced breakdown, bring him down, while the King of CQB is playin bait?" it wasn't playing bait he was angry about, or the fact that Patriks would bring Bourne down. And for the record, that title was earned.
"Yes." Stiff answered dryly.
"Uh-uh," Trev refuse, "Playing bait I can do. Guard duty I can do. Not for her."
Stiff said a simple "Hmm," he absently picked up a file, "I thought she was a family friend. I guess a psychopath like you wouldn't care about the fact that Bourne's next target... is her."
Trev blinked. In that one blink, he went from unwilling soldier to cold psychopath, "What?"
"The person that ordered the hit on her mother," he said, "is paying Bourne to kill her."
Trev's parent's had been killed when he was fifteen. He knew well the loss of a parent. He knew that she wouldn't stop until the man responsible was behind bars. This act might bring her the closure she wants.
"I want all the information we have on the man who killed Johanna Beckett by the time this is over. Enough to give him the needle even in New York." Bred in a small town and a Marine, Loyalty was one thing that kept Trev from descending into the darkness.