"We'll be back." Vanna wasn't sure she'd believed that, watching while the older assassin had been dressed up and sent out just like the old days. Like the old days, but this time she could question it: How were these people any different than Hydra? Using their loyalty to force people to do their bidding at any given moment. They were crueler than Hydra in that sense. Let them have luxuries, freedoms, but they'd better be ready to have it ripped away at the drop of a hat. In this case, the drop of a bomb in France. They teased with the obscure idea that anyone could just do a good deed and atone for their actions. It seemed Barnes wanted to regain some honor. He was going the wrong way. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. The ball she was tossing rebounded from the plane's windshield, hit the floor and was caught once more. Over and over again she threw it, just to hear the thunk thunk thunk that reverberated off the walls of the hangar.
"Want to go-"
"Ace, if you say exploring I'm throwing this at you." Another toss, delayed intentionally in waiting for his answer. Thunk, thunk, thunk.
"Fine, but Wilson's gonna find us sooner than later if we stay..." Her brother said as he examined the star on his right hand. Ace seemed at ease, sitting cross-legged on the polished floor, his back against the wheel of one of the larger planes. Looks could be deceiving.
"So why not just go back to our room? It's nice in there." While Ace had a validated point, (besides the being nice part obviously) Vanna preferred this element. Here in a giant space with planes and such. She wasn't hurting anyone by being here, so why not just hang out for a little longer?
"Let's stay. If our babysitter has a problem he can deal with it." The other assassin shrugged as if her reply was entirely reasonable. Both knew it wasn't entirely smart to violate Wilson's direct orders so soon after arrival. To be fair, it had been an extremely boring three hours sitting in a suite. The room they'd been given was huge, attached to the secondary hangar and at least a hundred yards away from the main building. The room was more of a house really, two stories, two bedrooms, two bathrooms and an assassin-proofed kitchen comprised of appliances and cupboards that were key-activated and strictly for use only when a supervisor is present. Irksome was the way everything was bolted down and unusable as a weapon or means of personal protection. Long and short, the house was annoying. Thinking about the whole thing made her toss the rubber-band ball considerably harder against the windshield of the small plane, the sound being less of a comforting thunk became more of a resonating Clang! the made her brother stir from whatever he was thinking about.
"Geez, Van!"
"If you have a problem you can deal with it!" She shouted, absently chucking the toy his direction. He jumped to his feet, evading the blow directly but hit in the backside by the multicolored object's rebound from the jet wheel.
"Y'know, you've got some nerve, not appreciating all of this." He said, poking a finger at her, blatantly assuming he hadn't been the opposing party not three days ago.
"Last time we talked about this it was "do it or prison". Why the change of heart?" She countered, no less than stalking up to her brother, closing the few meters between them.
"Because a little girl, Captain America, and Bucky Barnes said I could be something different. Not a machine. This little inconvenience is a short road compared to what we could do with our lives." Ace still accused her with that annoying finger of his. Completely wrong as he was, she wouldn't launch herself at him just yet, don't prove him wrong yet, because they were machines. Machines that fought like hell and had attitudes to match.
"Ha! Do with our lives? We're assassins. Killers. Born of hate, corruption, and lies. Do you really think we could be any less than another lackey, another asset like your Captain America and Barnes? We have skills. Lots of 'em. People like these need our skills for whatever pointless cause they're pursuing, and they'll do anything to keep it within their reach." She finished, her tone menacing as she leaned in close enough to feel his defeated sigh on her cheeks.
"I'm going back to the room. Stay here and wallow in your debbie-downer mood..." He turned to walk away. Vanna wasn't having that, just letting him saunter away from these problems. She'd re-reach him to hit it on the head, without a doubt.
"I'm not done talking!" She yelled after him. He stopped, didn't turn.
"Then say what you want to say." She could see his fists balling up, his shoulders tensing. For a split second, just a split, she thought about fighting him. Or rather not fighting him. No. This would be one for the books. He'd remember and feel this for days. Red crept up into her vision, along the edges like a scope, zeroing in on the prey that was about to be taught a valuable lesson.
Ace started walking away, saddened immeasurably by his sister's negative outlook on life. She shouted out to him, voice laden with a threat. He'd known she wanted a fight, he was sure she wouldn't initiate one however. No matter how differing their opinions had been Ace knew she wouldn't intentionally start a physical conflict. Three, four, five, steps away and Ace is fighting the tears stinging his eyes, clenching his jaw painfully against the down turning of his lips.
"Then say what you want to say." He manages to reply, his fists tightening in frustration rather than anger, shoulders tensing in a dry half-sob. He gets no reply at first. Relief, then horror as a sharp, calculated blow came down upon his spine.
"Ugh!" He cried as the wind was yanked from his shock-ridden body. The assassin in him responded promptly, rolling instead of falling out of the way, then sprinting without a second glance backward toward the door of the hangar- the nearest available exit. Ace didn't so much as look over his shoulder, numb. Eyes streaming, spine near cracking with every step and lungs still craving air, the young man silently hoped that it wasn't really Vanna, that someone had gotten in... Tried to do away with him. His life had come to this, running from his sister, the one who'd been his whole world up until recently. All because of a notion that he didn't have to fight.
"Then just tell them not to be bad anymore. Like Bucky did with his shiny hand!" Yeah, Mary, that little kid knew he didn't have to fight, to be bad. So close he was, reaching for the door- An attack from the side halted everything, send his metal feet grinding on the concrete. He didn't fall. Would not allow himself to fall victim to this misplaced rage, her misplaced rage.
"What'cha gonna do about that huh? Brother? Let me push you around like you let everyone else?" She lowered her shoulders like a predator, stalking closer still, a devilish smirk on her usually passive face.
"Vanna, enough." He breathed with a slight shake of his head, matching each of her silent steps with backwards ones of his own. The gears in his mind were creaking it seemed. Until they stopped working altogether. Seeing her face like this was enough to rust the cogwheels and spontaneously weave cobwebs into the inner workings of his mind. Ace's back groaned in protest, his chest heaved causing the most recent site of injury to spasm.
"Stop whining. Be the machine you are and fight me!" The shout was supposed to stir his anger, but it did just the opposite. His frontal and only thought was 'run'. That option was closing fast as Vanna's steps lengthened, her speed increased. She would attack again, frontally this time and with maximum force. Again, frontal thoughts that came from nowhere pushed through his panicked body and urged him to wait for the blow. The more prominent of his thoughts said, ordered, that he keep his feet moving. He would listen to the rebellion just this once, and wait for her strike. When she struck out towards his face, he ducked with such swiftness and spun so that he faced her back, instantly throwing up his arms to block another punch. With a jump-rope like effect he nimbly evaded the sweep meant for his knees, still guarding his face from the barrage that was being constantly rained. First response maneuver, an instinctual three steps to the side, over and over with perfect and practiced movements he'd directed the skirmish back to the door. not without it's casualties however. Many blows hit their mark, most to the stomach and legs which were screaming in pain. Ace was aware of blood dribbling down his chin from either the cut in his lip or...
"Fight me dammit!" His counterpart growled after a nasty sweeping high-kick that just nearly made contact with Ace's already battered torso. He was too tired, too hurt both mentally and physically to say anything. Another high-kick to the side of his head not only made things incredibly fuzzy but also seemed to stir some sanity back into his already horribly burned mixture of a fight. In his moment of good sense, Ace could finally fall to the side, pushing the door wide open with him. He fell to his stomach, causing him to spit a mouthful of blood onto the light concrete.
"Oh no you don't. You'll learn- you'll learn all over again that you can't get away. Never." Never... Never would Ace ever dream of his sister becoming the face of Hydra, what he was running from. Here it was though, repeatedly kneeing the air from his gut when he put up no more resistance. Somehow he was drifting away, whatever he was drifting away into was soft and welcoming. He embraced it, the soft darkness.
-...-
"Get- move over- don't lean on that! I swear you agents are the plague of the earth... If I hadn't taken that oath- Now look at what you've done!" The erratic shouting of a very disgruntled woman came through like a very painful rendition of the Doppler Effect. It hurt Ace's ears... Awareness hurt everything else. Before he could stop it, a groan escaped his lips as most of today's events decided to hit him like a bag of cinder-blocks.
"And you woke him up!" 'Up' was an overstatement. Ace couldn't see as a matter of fact. He was calm about the issue though, there was some sort of cotton pressure wrapping the circumference of his head. Nice as it was, he'd rather be able to see the damage Vanna had done- what he'd let her do.
"Excuse me, ma'am?" He asked as politely as possible, keeping to what he thought might be appropriate in this situation. He was going to maybe raise a hand, get her attention a secondary way, but his hands wouldn't move. Either strapped own or switched off didn't matter much as long as needles didn't have anything to do with anything.
"See? A master Hydra assassin has better manners than all of you." He turned his head in the direction of her voice and approaching footsteps, plastering a toothless smile her way for good measure.
"I prefer my name Ma'am, but yeah. Agents suck." He stirred a light chuckle from the woman, who he sensed was at the bedside now.
"They told me you were dangerous, not nearly so polite."
"Well I've been taking lessons from the master of manners himself for awhile." The assassin replied. Any mention of the restraints was better addressed later. Ace would ask appropriate questions, at the right times. Maybe ask politely to have the blindfold removed. For now the lady was doing something with the wound in his right side.
"Well since you're so fond of pleasantries I guess I'll have to introduce myself. I'm Doctor Margret Darcy." If Ace's eyes could widen they would. Owlishly. Margret, Maggie Darcy. Could be a coincidence. Had to be. If it hurt to ask then he could spare the expense. He'd deserve it. Part of atoning for your actions meant facing the music no matter how awkward it might be at first, and he had to start somewhere.
"Maggie Darcy, age six. Daughter of George and Valorie Darcy. Sister to Samuel Darcy, age eight. December fifth at fourteen-hundred hours, George Darcy-"
"He jumped." She interjected, her voice completely flat.
"That's not true. I watched, while you and your brother watched your father being thrown from a thirteen story building in Manhattan."
"No, the figure in my hallucinations was due to traumatic stress." Her hands left, more footsteps faded out then in. She was at his other side now, close to the machine that was constantly making beeping noises. Ace couldn't help but feel a knot in his stomach.
"You've denied it all of your life, haven't you?"
"There's nothing to deny."
"You convinced yourself that an assassin- that I didn't break into your house with my sister that night so you could feel better about lying to your brother. I know how it is." No more conversation was to be had after that. The woman preoccupied herself with shouting at agents, calibrating medical equipment, and actively ignoring the assassin on her medical bed.
Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Vanna's forehead collided lightly with the wall of her cell, her face expressionless as the repeated motion cleared more and more anger from her hazy thoughts. What would Barnes think? Steve? She inhaled then exhaled deeply, swallowed, Thunk... This time her head rested on the cold silver panel for a moment.
"Ace why the hell didn't you fight back?" The girl whispered, her thoughts finding a grip in wherever Ace might be right now. Probably being treated like a king. Like a martyr. Should've made my point more clear, just wanted him to stop being weak. Vanna snarled at her own mind's betrayal.
"Stop it." She scolded her own thoughts, banishing them to the dark part of her mind that'd hurt Ace. All of those thoughts had turned into words in one explosive moment and Vanna sorely regretted it. She'd always regret what she'd said, but she could prevent another incident. How, she had yet to figure out. Vanna was good at figuring things out, that was on her side at the very least.
"Miss Vanna?"
"Go away Wilson." She ground her head further into the wall and let her arms hang limp.
"I'm only here to help, Miss Vanna." As sincere as the agent sounded most things were hard to believe these days, especially when they concerned perception. Still, Wilson was useful for one certain purpose at the moment.
"Fine, wanna help? How's my brother?"
"He's under constant medical supervision."
"Injuries?"
"I have the medical report right here if you want to take a look." She didn't know what harm it could do other than the eminent guilt-trip. She sighed for maybe the twentieth time within the hour and pushed off of the wall, scanning the room for Wilson. He wasn't there. Probably behind the two-way mirror. With no one to talk to but her own reflection, she settled and simply talked to herself while speaking to the man behind it.
"Are you uh- bringing your army in here? Hello?" She tapped on the reflective surface with the back of her index finger.
"Actually-" The giant hidden door on the opposite side of the room hissed, Wilson entering with a manila folder in tow.
"I thought I'd give it to you personally." The balding man stepped closer, extending the file at a respectable distance. The door was still open, which made Vanna unsteady. The amount of trust here was suspicious. She took the file but didn't open it.
"I left the door open because there are six men in the waiting room." Wilson smiled warmly and clasped his hands behinds his back.
"That seems appropriate." She responded, tucking the folder under her arms as she crossed them.
"You seem completely calm Miss Vanna."
"I know Ace is alive. That's enough to keep me calm."
"What do you remember about the trigger of your attack?" Unexpectedly quick, the conversation turned into more of an interrogation than one of Wilson's 'help sessions'. What triggered it? Well, many reasons but since she had just about the lowest hand in this game Vanna would answer directly.
"I wanted him to stop being weak. Stop letting himself get pushed around."
"So, for his own good?" Son of a bitch.
"In some twisted Hydra-idealistic kinda way, yeah." She ground the last word trough her teeth for punctuation.
"Hydra-idealistic? Do you think Hydra's ideals are your own?" Wilson asked, still calm and smiling.
"No. They're bastards. All of them. They rely on fear, pain, the unwillingness of kids to achieve what they want. We don't think like that anymore."
"Meaning you and Ace." She only nodded.
"I see. Well Miss Vanna I think I can let you go."
"What's the catch?"
"No catch. I've pieced together the conditions of each attack, and know what to look for in prevention of another one. Please follow me."
Somewhere in France...
The cold stings Bucky's lungs with every gulp of air. He's running out of time and rooftop for this chase to continue any longer. Unfortunately, he's the one being chased, and while he's no stranger to jumping off of considerably heightened buildings this really wasn't ideal.
"Sam!" He shouted into his earpiece, picking up his pace impossibly.
"Just jump Barnes, I got'cha!" There was wind on the other end as well as Sam's shout, the engines of his friend's wings coming from somewhere below the edge, three yards now and getting closer.
"Steve?" He asked, confirmation for himself more than lack of trust in the Falcon.
"Go on Buck!" A pained grunt followed, but now Bucky was going off the edge and otherwise consumed with the feeling of falling to worry. Bucky reached up and was promptly caught albeit a shaky grip. The assassin brought it upon himself to not let go as he was brought back down into the deserted street.
"Robot dogs." Sam commented, out of breath, as he landed. A far off cry- not so much a howl for it was sonar technology rallying the cyborg animals.
"I'm gonna need backup... They're all here. I'm hidden, but not for long." Steve said through the line.
"What's your location Cap?"
"I d- I don't know. Somewhere by the extraction point."
"Barnes, you still got the GPS?"
"No."
"Well what the hell happened to it?" Bucky pulled the device out of his pocket, showing off the large chunk missing from one of the corners.
"Doesn't matter. Steve, how many are there?"
"I count two dozen. We need to call in backup, Buck." Another howl echoed through the street, followed by one set of scraping claws on pavement.
"You do that." He answered, listening closer for the direction of the dog. Left, sprinting into Sam's blindside.
"Sam!" His partner turned, just in time to be attacked from behind. Sam's wings caught most of the blow, but not all the black and white dog gnashed wildly as Sam went down. Bucky acted quickly and kicked the mutt's muzzle hard enough to shift the attack onto himself. The animal lunged for his chest, which the assassin blocked with his left arm. Bucky flung it out to the side, maybe to throw it off far enough away to get a clear shot, but it held fast. The machine brought its back legs up and furiously scratched at his chest with unbelievable flexibility for a dog.
"Barnes get out of the way!" Sam was aiming at the dog, his shot obstructed by Bucky's own struggling.
"Bucky what's going on?" Steve hissed through his earpiece. Bucky didn't respond, instead using whatever strength he had left in his metal arm to fling it out sideways.
BANG!
The dog yelped as it dropped into the street. Sam still had his gun pointed at the animal, and with a groan Bucky noticed that it was still alive.
"Dammit Sam."
"Hey, I just saved your life." The dog started whimpering at his feet. It wasn't supposed to be like this.
"Dammit..." Bucky muttered again, dropping to a crouch, hands on his knees as he examined the now mangled and bloody parts of both animal and machine.
"What?" His friend asked, the barrel still pointed down.
"You were supposed to kill it, Sam." He was tempted to reach out to the suffering animal, attempt to stop the blood staining its white fur. It was too late. Sam had done his damage and they were in the middle of the Europe.
"Well get outta the way and let me." Bucky couldn't kill the dog no matter how practical it was. Most everything told him to just end it. After all, the animal had tried to kill him as it was programmed to, would still be trying to if it wasn't wounded, dying. It was in pain, an easy excuse for just killing one of dozens. Programmed to kill for Hydra just like me. Fine, he related to the mutt, but the Winter Soldier? The Winter Soldier should just move and let someone else take care of it. The Soldier was good at that...
"We're not gonna kill it Sam."
"What?" Bucky- the one who seemed to win the night over- thought quickly, a tactical reason for keeping it alive, all while convincing himself of his own conjured possibilities.
"These things are programmed with data that could be useful. This one had singular orders. See the red band here?" Bucky pointed to the pinstripe running over the creature's shoulder.
"Yeah."
"It's different than the others. They have blue."
"So it's a commander?"
"A scout. The others are coming soon. We have to get it rewired, and none of it's going to matter if we don't keep this one alive." Actually, there was a perfect idea right there. Bucky looked up at Sam. He put his weapon away and sighed.
"Try to get it somewhere safe then. I'll get Cap." Bucky nodded, shielding his eyes as the Falcon took off towards the giant iron tower looming in the distance. Another shrill, mechanical whine emitted from the black and white dog.
"Okay fido, where are you hurt?" For precaution, Bucky gently clasped his left hand over the animal's muzzle, his right hand carding through the bloodiest site on the animal's fur just below the center of the spine. As expected, the dog growled and squirmed when Bucky brushed the bullet wound. The assassin knew nothing of dog anatomy, so he chopped it up to pain and blood loss that had incapacitated the dog and not a major injury. He moved his hand to the dog's other side to feel for an exit wound. Indeed there was one. Nodding, Bucky let the animal's muzzle go. Just as he predicted, the pain and blood loss were the only issue and both were easily fixed. The assassin stood swiftly and crossed the street to where a cloth tarp had been draped over a pair of bikes. He pulled it away and immediately set about tearing it to strips. Once he was back to the dog's side he'd torn three bandages from the tarp and a backpack-like sling.
Fixing the bandages and loading the animal into into the sling was easy, as it was too weak to fight back now. In this abandoned part of town finding an empty apartment was also easy since most of it had been evacuated after the bombing. The place he chose was in the center of a nice brick building with no windows and one way in that was visible from almost everywhere besides the bathroom. All in all it was an all-in-one-room house. The nicely made spring mattress was where he decided the dog would go once it was clean. Remember, this is all for tact. Stop looking at it like that and get the damn water, Barnes. For then he untied his sling and gently lowered it onto the floor. His gaze lingered on the animal for only a second longer than appropriate.
"Towels." He muttered, moving to the bathroom to look for towels and water. Maybe find some unemotional common sense along the way. Bucky located a stash of what he was looking for in a cabinet below the sink and took four. He set the stack, save one, on the tarp beside the still sleeping (still breathing) dog, then into the kitchen he went with his towel to test the taps. Only cold water, but that was fine, so he soaked it and moved on with his task, trying so hard not to cringe at the animal that quite frankly looked like robotic roadkill.
"Dammit all to hell and back, who cares?" Bucky grumbled, giving in for god knows why and stroking the dog's head before removing the bandages and wiping clean the its fur. Luckily for himself and the mutt the bleeding had stopped completely thanks to his crude handiwork. Unluckily for him, the animal was showing signs of awareness. Emotional as he was, Bucky wasn't stupid. He took another strip of cloth and tied a knot around its snout before picking it up in his arms and putting it on the bed. Next, he fashioned a knotted leash using the remaining strips of his tarp, tied one end to the metal bed frame and the other loosely around the dog's neck. Good enough for now.
"Steve? Sam?" He asked his earpiece.
"Sorry Barnes. Just me." Shit. Stark. Stark as backup.
"Where's my team?" Bucky growled. There was a long silence.
"You're not the only one who's pissed. I'm at the door." How? I didn't hear you...
"Then come in." He said aloud, immediately on edge when Tony (angry Russian curse) Stark showed up to be tech support. Without his suit. He had a case with him, just as technologically advanced as his tower.
"Cap said you have one of the dogs." Bucky pointed with his exposed left hand to the bed where it lay, its eyes half open now.
"I need it to follow my orders."
"You know, I'm already sick of you Sergeant, so don't tell me what to do." The billionaire snapped. Bucky held back a relatively phallic curse and watched as the technician worked. On his new dog, Bucky decided mentally.
Ace was sleeping peacefully, his even breathing was lulling and wonderful. The monitor displaying his heartbeat counteracted that with every second she lay at the bedside. The insistent beeping noise it made was near infuriating. Near. She had a tight lid and padlock on it this time, thanks to the sight before her. Ace ended up like this way too much. Hurt, because of his shit life experiences and weak because of his growing conviction that he could be better. Vanna would never accept that. Ever. Never would she doubt the assassin she was nor her past and skills. She wasn't better, couldn't be, but she wasn't going to start anymore fights over this. She wouldn't even speak of it. Vanna sighed as tender footsteps clacked into the room.
"Miss Vanna?" She glanced at whoever it was without really making eye contact, avoiding setting her eyes for anywhere more than a few moments.
"I've been asked to tell you that Captain Rogers has returned, and that Sergeant Barnes-" He cleared his throat awkwardly, as her interest drove her to make eye contact.
"Has a present for you and your brother. His words. Not mine." She didn't care who's words they were. She nodded indifferently. The man walked out of the room, and no later did Barnes enter... A black and white Project K-9 unit at his heels.
"Give the command, Omega." Handler ordered, reiterating what the head scientist had to say, pointing to the unit that waited for its master's word.
"Stealth. Fetch." She said, boldly, as she was instructed to. The unit did not hesitate in leaving, its nose to the ground. Many weapons were hidden in the gym, all of differing deadliness. The unit's mission was to retrieve the most compatible weapon for a stealth mission, and stopped at every hiding spot, stopping just short of grabbing anything until finally pinpointing the location of a combat knife. It took time digging through a pile of blue floor mats, but returned at a swift trot to drop the weapon at Omega's feet.
"As you can see," The scientist explained to the gathered group of officials.
"My K-9 units are fully operational and take orders better than any agent. Unlike your assets, my units are incapable of speech and their loyalty isn't restricted by the drastic measures of brainwashing." Omega looked away from the scientist, passively and submissively staring at her feet instead.
"How well do they partake in combat?"
"Like a pack of wolves, sir." She didn't know of wolves. Maybe The Wolf she knew of, a secret battle tank in the lowermost parts of the compound. If these animal units fought like The Wolf then she was not impassively angry about them.
"Asset?"
"Yes, Sir?" She looked up to look into the man's eyes like any good asset would do.
"What are your thoughts on the K-9 units?" The thought hard about her words.
"Though it is not position to say, they are useful. Proficient."
"I know, but what is your opinion." She froze.
"I-it's not my position to express opinion, Sir."
"Good. Now, you see this Doctor?" He gestured lightly to Omega.
"This is an asset that knows its place. Your dogs are as unpredictable as any wolf as far as I know."
"Sir, I assure you everything is controlled to the T."
"Prove it then. Asset?"
"Yes, sir?"
"You've imprinted on this unit, correct?"
"Yes, Sir."
"It will do as you tell it?"
"Yes, Sir."
"I want it in the field tomorrow. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Asset, do you think well of this unit?"
"It is proficient."
"Do you think it will attempt escape?" She glanced at the unit, then to the Hydra head.
"Yes, sir. It is more than probable than another will occur."
"Oh? Please explain." The Hydra head was scowling over her shoulder, likely at Handler.
"Many attempts have been orchestrated by the K-9 units, sir. The probability of another attempt is eighty-three percent approximately."
"Why have I not heard of this, Doctor?"
"I would never, sir! The asset is lying!" Attention was turned to Omega like a thousand-pound weight had descended upon her shoulders.
"Asset Omega is this true?" A beating would result from this. No matter what she said next, it would not end well. The dam had burst, and lying was against programming.
"No, sir. Lying goes against protocol and programming. There is video evidence contrary to Doctor Grover's claims if you wish to see."
"Bring it to me." He told one of his soldiers.
"Doctor Grover, your research is to be obliterated if what my asset claims is correct." She looked at the scientist, who nodded, then shot daggers at her from behind his glasses.
"Sir, that is completely unnecessary! My units-"
"Sir, we found the footage." The soldier produced a flat device and handed it to the Hydra head. Time stood still as he watched the moving images, his expression darkening into something horrible.
"Asset."
"Yes, sir?" She asked carefully.
"Order it to kill him."
So, things take a turn for the something in this longer-than usual chapter. Ace got beat up again. Now, I'm going to make a promise that it won't happen again, Vanna's going to make sure of it. Enjoy, comments are appreciated!