Hurray I got the next chapter up! It's a bit short, I know, but it was necessary.

Madame Kovarian was fuming. So much so that she was unable to maintain any semblance of composure. She had been made a fool of far too many times recently to be anything but outraged.

The past few days had unhinged her tremendously. One minute she had been feeling confident and comfortable and then suddenly she gets a call from a man who should have been dead, telling her that she's apparently hired a hit-man to kill him.

She and two of the Silence stormed into her office where said hit-man sat in a chair in front of her desk, his legs propped up and crossed in casual boredom. He looked up as she entered and grinned at her.

"Kovarian. Nice to see you. I'm surprised you've kept me waiting so long, though I suppose this has been a busy day for you."

She glowered at him, crossed the room and sat down at her chair. "That's Madame Kovarian. And get your feet off of my desk," she snapped.

He obliged her with a smile.

Though he had done what she had asked, something about the way he did it angered her further.

He glanced back at the Silence and then at her again, tsking. "Bodyguards? I'd expect you'd know that I wouldn't harm my employer."

She blinked at him, so stunned that she could hardly respond. "You remember them."

"Of course I do. Look at them. A face like that is hard to forget."

"That's impossible," she stated, quite alarmed now.

He leaned forward, lacing his fingers and resting his hands on the desk.

"Not for you," he said, looking at her eye patch. He then tapped the side of his head with one finger. "You're eye patch is a bit... tacky, for my taste. I decided to go with something less... visible."

"You implanted one?"

"You think I would be so stupid as to take a job for the Silence without precautions?" he asked her, eyes glowing dangerously.

"You don't work for us," she said, bringing her shoulders up and back in a subconscious effort to look more intimidating. "I never made a contract with you."

"You didn't need to," he said. "I had Father Quentin for that. As a representative for the Silence, he had the authority to sign a contract with me."

"Quentin is no longer with the Silence. He was made a Headless Monk over a year ago. Therefore your contract is now void," she said scathingly.

She had expected that this would catch him off guard; that he would be surprised, or even angry. The last thing she had anticipated him to do at this news... was to smile.

"Is that so?"

She stared at him, flustered. What had she missed? Quentin had been beheaded. He had joined the Order of the Headless. The contract would have been nullified.

"When the Order takes a candidate and turns them into a Monk, they integrate with whatever species or group they have made an allegiance with. This can sometimes include contracts, if it interests the Church. Evidently, mine did."

Madame Kovarian could hardly believe her ears and she stared at him, outraged.

"So," he continued with a cocky smile, "Not only do I work for the Silence, but I also work for the Papal Mainframe. My contract is valid, unless both of you choose to end it."

She glared at him. "You planned this out very carefully. You went to Quentin because he was going to be a monk and you needed the Papal Mainframe's support. To trap me," she hissed venomously.

He smiled, leaning back in his chair. "Well, that wasn't the only reason. I also needed someone who the Doctor wouldn't be watching... and who better than a dead man walking? Never do anything for just one reason when you could do it for several. You get more accomplished that way."

"Well aren't you clever," she mocked.

He shrugged. "Never go into a situation unprepared."

"Like you did with the trap you set for the Doctor at the bunker?" Madame Kovarian sneered. "That was chaos. The place was covered in bullets, yet you and your men managed not to hit a single target. You took a shot at the Doctor and missed. What makes you think the Papal Mainframe will continue your contract after that disgraceful attempt to kill the Doctor?"

The hit-man regarded her calmly. "Missed?" he laughed. "I never miss. Neither do my men."

"Then why isn't the Doctor dead?"

"If I had been aiming at the Doctor, he would be."

Madame Kovarian became quiet. "What?"

"Like I said, I don't miss. I hit exactly what I was aiming at."

"You shot a wall."

"Bulls-eye," he said, making a gun with his finger and thumb and firing it past her head.

"You let the Doctor escape?"

"It was necessary," he replied evenly.

She gawked at him. "Necessary? You let the most dangerous man in the universe go!"

He only looked at her, that ridiculous smile plastered to his face. She wanted to slap it off.

She stood from her chair and slammed her hands on her desk. "Once the Monks hears about this-"

"They already have."

"Excuse me?" she asked, irritated at having been interrupted, which only fueled her anger more. This audacious man was making her look like a fool. She was about ready to snap his neck then and there.

"You know, I have been very patient, but I'm tired of this. I allowed myself and my team to be brought here out of respect for you as my employer, but now you're hindering my work. I've wasted too much time arguing with you, Kovarian." He started to get up.

"Who was your hostage?" Madame Kovarian asked. She needed to keep him here, at least until she could figure out how to kill him without angering the Monks.

Even the Silence weren't willing to get into a fight with them.

"None of your concern."

"I think it is," she said coldly.

"No. It isn't. Part of my contract included a request; that man, my hostage, is mine. You are not to harm him. If anyone so much as touches him without my express permission, I will kill them."

She stared at him, her interest perked. "Who is he?"

His eyes met hers and she had to fight to keep her composure. Those eyes belonged to a hardened killer and she imagined there wasn't much that was keeping him from attacking her. She thought it was rather ironic that both of them were trying very hard not to murder each other.

"He is none of your concern," he said, started to leave, stopped, looked at the two Silences and then turned to her again. "May I borrow some of these?"

"Why?"

"I may need them," he said.

She was about to say no, just to spite him, but then thought better of it. She loathed him, of that there was no question, but she had more, less petty concerns on her mind. The Silence could watch him for her and perhaps even kill him if the opportunity arose. Deciding this course of action was best, she nodded.

He grinned. "Excellent. If there's nothing else, then I'll be taking my men and a few of these wrinkly bastards. I've got a Time Lord to hunt."

Giving her one last, cocky smile, he turned and left the room, the spurs of his books clinking at his every step.

It took every fiber of effort in her body not to tackle him down and bash his head in.