A/U: Thanks to all those reviewing and reading so far, hope you are all enjoying it. A personal thank you to Pwashington for all your advice and help with the Hitman universe, I am taking note promise. :)

Chapter 17

I tapped my foot in agitation as I scanned the screen in front of me. I was sat in Diana's office in Copenhagen, using her desk to rest my laptop on. She was currently in a meeting with the board, and had been for the last five hours. It was her suggestion that I moved back to Denmark in the interim, as Cicada knew where my base in London was. My old flat was still empty and I had resumed living there like I had never left. I felt a strange sort of comfort being back, like coming home from University and knowing there are people around who can look after you.

The ICA had said I could remain a handler and keep my rank, but Diana had to supervise me for now. I didn't really care, I was just wanted to take down this group that seemed intent on hounding me. I had been glued to my laptop for the past week, desperately trying to dig out the heart of this secret society of hackers. Diana had been assisting me where she could, although due to the nature of the beast, it was mainly me sifting around the deep web for clues.

Luckily 47 hadn't been given a contract recently, so I was free to pursue my current extra curricula activity. Until the board gave the green light to take them out, that was what I had to call them. Only Diana and 47 seemed to treat the Cicada group with the same seriousness I did. It made me wonder how the ICA hadn't been infiltrated more often, what with all the over confident, arrogant Directors that ran it.

I cursed as I hit another dead end. There wasn't much to go on; if Greg was any indication a lot of their recruits were invisible, nobodies that could blend in to any situation. However, I knew a few of them had to be high profile world figures if Gregory Thomas, the ex-US congressman, and the member of the Emirati royal family who had order Rashad killed was anything to go by. All I knew at the moment was that their puzzles were untraceable; I hadn't been surprised there if I'm honest, and their influence in the world was larger than appeared on the surface. I held my head in my hands and growled into them in frustration.

"Going well I see." Diana's voice made me sit up. She took in my disheveled look and calmly sat opposite me.

"What's the verdict then?" She gave me a small smile.

"The board has authorised it." I grinned and did a silent celebration. This would make things a thousand times easier. Diana's face held the promise of a 'but' and I stopped to hear the rest.

"They want 47 to execute it once we have a definite target, but they are unsure whether to allow you to handle it." My face fell; this was going to be a trend I could tell. She saw my reaction and continued. "I am fighting your case Peregrine, believe me. No one is more capable than you, but the way they see it you betrayed their trust."

"Did you tell them part about me deleting a program that would have likely been used against them?" She nodded, her face set in a grim expression. I sighed dejectedly and turned my attention back to the screen.

"I'm not getting very far if I'm honest. I think I've officially met my match."

"Now I don't believe that for one second." Diana was smirking while looking down at a file in front of her. I grinned at her and redoubled my efforts.

…

It was 2am and my head was resting on my laptop, I was struggling to stay awake. Diana had agreed to my plan of using myself as bait when none of my other methods had worked. I was waiting for an alert to signal I had caught a fish on my line, but at the moment, nothing. The page had gone live four hours ago; I had posted it on the deep web using similar tags to the original puzzles. If anyone from Cicada were monitoring the deep web they would find my message.

I have achieved enlightenment.

The path to true epiphany resides in the humble.

Even the smallest bird can take down the mighty lion.

I am waiting.

P

It was pretentious and not how I liked to operate, but I figured they'd sit up and listen to someone speaking their language. I slipped in and out of consciousness, the buzz of my laptop lulling me to sleep.

I wasn't sure if I had dozed off when the ping jarred me awake. I snorted attractively as I lurched upright and tried to adjust my eyes to the blue glow of the screen. It was another unmarked message. Swallowing nervously, I clicked on the stark white box.

Message received Judas.

We will be in touch shortly.

3301

This was it, no going back now. I had offered myself as a sacrifice, I only hoped the agency would be watching my back for me. Slowly I closed my laptop down and stared out at Copenhagen at night. Its lights twinkled in the calm blackness; a feeling of peace descended on me. This new life I had created for myself had its ups and downs, but like a drug it had taken hold of me.

Weariness began to win and I made my way to bed. I would need my strength for the trials ahead.

…..

"This isn't a good idea."

His instant dismissal annoyed me slightly. "Why not? It's the best lead we have, and they're not going to let anyone else near them." I heard him sigh in my headset.

"You're last outing in the field didn't exactly go in your favour Perry. I can't be constantly monitoring you." Now I was annoyed.

"I'm not asking you to 47. I'm asking you to help me take these bastards down. Now I can't do it without you, and you can't do it without me, so you'd better get used to the idea of me being a bit more involved than a handler normally would." I had no clue where my confidence had come from suddenly, 47 went quiet. There was a very long pause; I thought he had gone without me knowing.

"Fine." I could tell he wasn't happy, but we didn't have any other choice.

The board had finally agreed to me being involved, after I had convinced them it was literally the only way to get close to Cicada. Diana had been a bit apprehensive about me going into the field, but my plan wouldn't work without me there. The only person left to win over was 47, and he was being unusually stubborn.

"The meeting is in a week at this actor's house. There is a party happening that night, I'm not entirely sure, the message was a hard one to read." I waited for his response; I could just about hear the sound of his steady breathing.

"And they aren't aware you're leading us to them?"

"To be honest, I think they might be suspicious. But it's the best lead I have, even if it means me getting in serious danger."

I heard him sigh again. "Do you have any experience in defending yourself Perry?"

"No, not practically. I was a bloody photographer before I was a hander 47, never really felt the need to learn how to kill another human." Another sigh, this was the most annoyed at me he had ever been.

"One week." Confusion clouded my mind.

"What?"

His tone was serious and to the point. "We've got one week to prepare. I'm teaching you how to shoot."

…..

I stood looking dumbly at the targets in front of me. We were at an ICA training facility, in fact I was pretty sure it was the same one the agent's had been in when I was training. 47 was examining a standard issue pistol, he had already taken it apart and was methodically putting it back together. His concentration and familiar way he handled the weapon was fascinating to watch. I kept switching my focus between him and the targets that were set some way away behind a low wall.

47 finished preparing the gun with a final click, and turned to look at me.

"Ready?" I nodded slowly, I was shaking slightly with nervous adrenaline. He regarded me calmly, carefully handing the gun to me grip first. It was heavier than I was expecting, and I held it gingerly at arm's length. He raised one eyebrow at my reluctant expression. Patiently he waited for me adjust to the feel of it my hands, the grip felt slightly warm from where he'd been holding it. Eventually, I turned myself to face the targets. He moved to stand beside me, his eyes never leaving my face.

"The first rule of shooting is never close your eyes." For a moment my nervousness was forgotten as I gave him an un-amused sideways look. His expression remained serious, every inch the professional.

"You'd be surprised how many people shut their eyes when they pull the trigger. Natural reaction to a loud noise I assume."

I chuckled, the sound making him blink at me. "Ok, so eyes open. Anything else?" His half smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. At least he wasn't annoyed with me at the moment.

"Hold your arms out in front of you, and look directly down the barrel of the gun." I did as he said, my nervous shaking becoming more apparent as I held the weapon up. He moved a step closer to me and reached one hand out to hold my arms steady. My whole body tensed at the unexpected contact.

"That isn't going to help you aim." I looked up at his blue eyes; a point of calm not matter what situation I was in. "Breath Perry." His voice commanded an immediate response. Slowly, I breathed in through my nose and out through my mouth, focusing back on the targets. The shaking in my hands slowed slightly, but it still wasn't brilliant.

47 moved his hand away from my arm. "Take your time, when you're ready squeeze the trigger, don't pull." His voice was distractingly close; I could see him stood in my peripheral vision. I swallowed, my mouth was completely dry. Trying my hardest to keep my eye on the target, it was wobbling around a little as I looked down the gun; I gently squeezed the trigger.

The bang echoed around the hangar, my hands jumped back towards me and I narrowly avoided a nasty hit on the nose from the gun. Taking a step back, I blinked rapidly, the smell of gunpowder and fire filling my nostrils. 47 hadn't moved a muscle during the display, but I could see the barely concealed amusement in his face.

"Wow, so that was loud." I remarked, my ears still ringing painfully. 47 raised an eyebrow at me, his blue eyes creasing ever so slightly.

"It hasn't got a compressor, now you know why we have them." I could imagine contracts would be ten times harder, if you had to use a gun that loud while sneaking up on your target. Looking at my target I could see it was completely unscathed. I hadn't even hit it. I saw him look at the embarrassingly pristine target, then back to me.

"Not bad for your first try. At least you didn't drop it." His mouth twitched a little. I frowned at him sulkily.

"Are you making fun of me?" He kept his face innocently blank; I wasn't buying it. "May I remind you that it was your suggestion to teach me, so maybe start teaching?" My huffy statement provoked him to move behind me suddenly. Before I could register what he was doing he had reached round and grasped my wrists in each of his hands. The first thing I noticed was how easily his arms wrapped around my entire body, how long were they? The second thing I noticed was the unnatural closeness of his body to mine. My mouth tightened in a firm line as I tried to concentrate on the deadly weapon in my hands. I wasn't sure what I was feeling, on the one hand a man who I had strange attraction to was holding me, on the other a deadly assassin had my wrists in a vice grip.

"Arms at head height don't tilt your head down." He lifted my arms up level with my eyes; I could feel his heart beating steadily against my back. "Widen your stance." He nudged my leg with his foot, moving it out so my feet were set further apart. He let go and took a step back, the sudden cold after the warmth of his body was jarring. "Now keep your eyes open."

I kept my position and blew out, calming my wildly beating heart. Focusing on the target in the distance I slowly squeezed the trigger again. The retort of the gun wasn't as startling this time, and I was sure I had kept my eyes open the whole duration. Grimacing slightly I glanced at the target, there was one neat hole winking back at me. It wasn't perfect but I had hit on the second attempt.

I whirled round, my expression triumphant. 47 had a stoic look on his face, but as I jumped up and down pointing at the target in excitement, his mouth stretched into a rare genuine smile. It only lasted a second, but I had seen it.

"Very good, you hit it. Please stop jumping around with that in your hand." I sobered up immediately, the weight of the pistol suddenly very apparent to me.

"Not bad for my first time eh?" My nervousness had made way for a giddy sense of confidence. 47 didn't look so sure.

"Unfortunately, you won't find many attackers that are willing to stand still for you while you're aiming." His judgment was harsh, but very fair. I sighed, taking in the enormity of what I was doing for the first time. I stared at the pistol; it looked alien in my hand.

"Is this going to work 47?" The uncertainty made my voice wobble. If there were any other way of us doing this I would've taken it, but I couldn't see it and now I was practicing how to kill another person. It seems silly to say that that thought shocked me, after all I had watched people die many times now. But I had never been the one pulling the trigger. If it came down to it, I mean really came down to it; would I be able to do it?

I locked eyes with 47, his gaze as steady as always. Did anything ever faze this man? He stepped towards me and gently prized the gun from my grasp. It looked like an extension of his arm, completely different to me holding it.

"It will be fine Perry." He walked over to the barrier and took aim. My jaw dropped as within a matter of seconds 47 had hit all twenty targets in the range, every one of them dead in the center. Calmly, as if he had just opened a door, he turned back to me and released the empty cartridge onto the floor.

Staring me at me unblinkingly, his expression deadly, he stated simply, "You've got me."

I felt happier about the situation with that comment. 47 took out another cartridge and loaded it into the gun. He handed it back to me; I gave him a grin.

"That's kind of a hard act to follow." He didn't respond, just waited for me to take the pistol. I gripped the weapon and turned back to the targets.

"Again." I got the feeling I wasn't going to be let off the hook until 47 was happy with my progress. Adjusting my stance, I held it firmly in two hands and tried to center the gun on 47's mark. Taking a deep breath in to steady my hands I squeezed the trigger again.

This time my bullet had edged ever so slightly closer to the center. I gave 47 a sideways look, his eyes were fixed on the target.

"Again. Quicker this time." His mouth was set in a firm line; he wasn't playing anymore. I focused back on the task, firing the gun repeatedly until he finally told me to stop.