It felt good to be in Menagerie again, regardless of the reason of his arrival. Adam relished the tropical scent, the presence of his Faunus brothers and sisters, and the lack of Ozpin's domineering Huntsmen. The bustle of Kuo Kuana's plaza was quite pleasant, too, and it was refreshing to see the smiling faces of Faunus families as they perused the open-air market.
It's a shame he came for such grim business. It was no secret that Adam was, to the people of Menagerie, usually a herald of chaos and death, as are most other ambassadors from Vale. Adam was no different, save for the fact that this time, he would be an arbiter rather than a herald. Abraham wanted someone dead, and Adam was typically the best for such jobs. Of course, everyone would know that he did it, but no one in Menagerie would dare speak out about it. No one would interfere in the White Fang's plans. After all, why would they want to ruin their own best shot at real freedom?
The man to die— a man, not a Faunus— would be Larun Marital, Vacuan ambassador residing comfortably within the Vacuan embassy in the heart of Kuo Kuana. Cinder and Abraham had both agreed that such an egregious assasination— especially if they could pin it on another human— would stoke the flames of conflict between Vale and Vacuo. That was why Adam was under disguise; black wig hiding what was left of his horns, which he had filed down as much as he could without inflicting great pain, a forest-green cape with a grey shirt and black slacks, colors most would associate with Vale, and a hefty amount of makeup used to conceal most of the brand, or at least enough to make it look closer to a regular scar. He'd also been given color contacts that covered his striking blue eyes with a tamer, pale pink shade. Andre had laughed at that. Asshole.
The makeup wasn't something Adam was completely unaccustomed to, he'd had to use it for a similar mission once before, but it still felt strange. What felt worse were the clothes, the long sleeves and thick material making him sweat buckets in warm, tropical Menagerie. The worst part, though, was the weapon at his side. Of course, he understood why the red chokutō would be too obvious a connection to him, but he certainly wasn't happy with the replacement. Rather than Wilt and Blush at his side, he bore a simple longsword on his left hip, and a pistol on his right. The sword had been purchased from a Fang-sympathetic weaponsmith, who agreed to making the transaction completely off-the-books. The pistol came from a similar source, and the ammunition had been hand-loaded in the White Fang headquarters, scrubbed of any and all prints and identifiers, then carefully loaded into the gun's only magazine. Textbook requirements for any clean assasination.
The plan was simple. The protection at the embassy was rather lax since the Vacuans were highly tolerant to the Faunus, making their relations very friendly. Just flash his Scroll— forged, obviously— then walk right to the ambassador's office.
"Excuse me! Sir!" The embassy guard shouted, one hand raised. His equipment was quite meager, really, just a single pistol holstered at his right hip and a standard chestplate, probably imported from Atlas.
Adam plastered a polite smile on his face and raised his hands in acquiescence.
The guard approached cautiously, one hand hovering over his holster. "Appointment?"
Adam nodded and slowly reached into his pocket, pulling out his Scroll and holding it out between two gloved fingers for the guard to take.
"Huntsman? We don't see too many of you around here." He eyed Adam suspiciously. "What's your business?"
Adam shrugged. "Representative from Vale, need to talk with Marital."
The guard took the Scroll and scanned over it briefly before handing it back to Adam. He had barely even looked over it, Adam could tell. "What about?"
Adam had to force his lips to not turn into a snarl. "Is it any of your business?"
The guard glared. "Fine. Your weapons?" He motioned to Adam's sheathed sword.
Adam puffed out his chest, a proud smirk on his face. "We are inseparable. You have no legal right to take a Hunter's weapon."
The guard's anger was evident on his blushing face.
"I could probably protect the ambassador better than you could, anyway." Adam smugly remarked as he walked past the guard, snatching the Scroll out of his hand as he passed. The guard turned to shout at him, but just decided to drop it.
Adam couldn't keep the disgust from his face as he walked into the embassy, though. It reeked of humans, their fancy colognes and perfumes burning his sensitive nostrils. The building's interior was just as grossly lavish as he'd expected, the marble walls and tiled floors completely different from Menagerie's more humble architecture. So arrogant. If only he'd been sent to burn the gaudy building. Maybe if he caused enough trouble he'd be able to excuse it… No, Khan would be up his ass.
Dust, even the ambassador's office door was horrible. Mahogany wood, certainly imported from Vale, carved with designs of Vacuo's desert landscapes and Vacuan soldiers' triumph over Grimm. Even the handle, clearly made of real silver, had swirling floral designs common to royal Vacuan families. Adam sneered and knocked three times on the door.
It didn't take long for the ambassador to answer. Adam could hear him babbling from the other side of the door as he unlocked and pulled it open. Larun Marital was built surprisingly well for a pencil-pusher, and a silver flanged mace rested at his hip. An ex-Hunter. Maybe it wouldn't be so easy.
Larun could tell immediately what Adam was there for. His hazel eyes darted between Adam's, then to the weapons at his hip. Larun's hand slowly drifted to his own weapon, and Adam merely stood still as he drew the mace. It was finely crafted, and Adam could see that Larun held it with confident familiarity. Worrisome.
Adam barged into the door before Larun could close it, knocking them both into the office and onto the floor. "You bastards," Larun grunted. "I knew Ozpin was up to something."
Good, he really believed he was from Vale. Adam swiftly jumped off of Larun, his leg swinging backwards to shut the office door, which he promptly locked.
Larun was up more quickly than Adam had expected, his thunderous footsteps filling the room as he charged across the carpeted floor. Adam drew his longsword in a rush to block the incoming mace, only barely managing to keep the weapon from hitting him. He couldn't stop Larun's other hand, though, which quickly snaked around to Adam's side, gripping his right arm. As soon as he touched it, the arm went completely numb and fell limply to Adam's side. Not good.
Adam panicked internally. No one had told him that Larun was a Huntsman, or that he had such a Semblance. Adam shot a foot out, catching the ambassador in the knee and giving him some distance before swinging the sword in a wide, low arc, catching Larun on the thigh and making him drop to one knee. Adam tried to exploit the moment, but Larun was too quick, bringing the mace up just in time to bat the sword away. The ambassador then lurched forward, headbutting Adam in the gut, and while his Aura blocked pretty much all the force of the strike, it still knocked him back a good enough distance for the ambassador to stand again.
Larun charged with fire in his eyes, but Adam already had his sword up. He blocked swing after swing, his Semblance absorbing the force and feeding it into the longsword. When the sword began glowing, Adam ducked under Larun's next strike, bringing the sword up under his arm.
Adam struck true, the blade smashing into Larun's Aura and sending him across the office. The ambassador crashed into his desk, reducing it to splinters. Adam felt his arm regaining feeling again, and gripped the longsword in both hands.
"You little shit." Larun hissed as he pushed himself up.
Adam just stared, his sword held defensively in front of him.
Larun grunted and charged again, silver mace high above his head. Desperate, childish. Adam backed one foot up, lowering his stance and bringing himself just out of reach of Larun's overhead strike. He lunged forward as soon as the attack whiffed, the tip of his sword on a perfect collision course with Larun's throat.
Unfortunately, Larun had outplayed him. Adam collapsed as he felt a hand on his leg, one he had missed in his focus on countering the ambassador. The leg grew numb as Larun drained the feeling from it, sending Adam crashing to the floor as he collapsed, his longsword only minorly scoring Larun's shoulder instead of piercing his throat.
Adam struggled to get up as Larun imposingly drew up to his full height, a small amount of blood staining his pale yellow shirt at the shoulder. "You thought I couldn't see what Ozpin was doing?" He hissed, bringing his mace up for a final swing. "Quietly recalling his Hunters, increased trade with Atlas, expanding protection for the Frontiers! I am not an idiot! I've seen war!"
Adam frowned. No one in the White Fang knew about any of this, or at least no one had told him. Ozpin was usually so secretive, how could a simple ambassador have figured all this out? No matter. He had to die. Perhaps Abraham would be more appreciative when he learned that Adam had such knowledge.
Larun brought the mace down, only to stagger as Adam pumped every round in his pistol into the ambassador's chest. To his credit, his Aura held out for quite a while, withstanding at least ten shots, but that was only half of Adam's magazine. The rest went clean through his torso, blasting small holes into the white wall behind him. He dropped the mace in disbelief, clutching his perforated chest as he fell to his knees. "Fuck…" He hissed, a stream of blood falling from his lips before he collapsed face-first onto the carpet.
Adam dropped the pistol onto his chest as he relaxed, his head dropping back onto the carpet. If Larun hadn't started babbling, he might have been able to get him. Adam slowly pushed himself up with his sword, using it as a cane as his leg began to regain feeling. There was a pounding at the door, the guards had doubtless heard the gunshots, if not the fighting itself. The door shook in its frame as the shouting guards tried to force it open. Adam's eyes darted around, looking for some kind of escape. One door, the one he'd entered, one window. That would have to do. Adam inhaled deeply, slowly holstered the pistol, and crashed shoulder-first through the window.
The hard ground gave him a firm greeting, and he grunted as he landed in the dirt. He was still within the fenced area of the embassy, and he could hear the front gate guards running across the lawn towards him. He scrambled up quickly, blindly swinging his sword in a wide arc. Someone cried out as the blade found purchase, and Adam used the opportunity to flee. He could stick around and slaughter the guards, but every second he wasted here was a second that the Menagerie police would not waste.
He sprinted across the embassy's lawn and leapt over the wrought-iron fence, the guards shouting after him as they flooded out of the embassy. He sprinted through the streets, finding his way into the plaza again. He'd lose them in the crowd.
The Faunus gave him a few weary looks as he barged into the crowd, but none of them called out when they caught his scent. They wouldn't dare snitch on Adam Taurus.
The thickness of the crowd was enough to keep the guards at bay while Adam slinked between the bodies with ease. It wasn't long before he found himself at the docks, where six airships were loading their cargo.
All of them carried nondescript crates, but there was one Adam was looking for in particular. He sprinted to the left, briefly meeting the eyes of a yak Faunus loading crates marked with red circles. The two shared a brief look, reaching a quick understanding. He and Adam rushed to load the few remaining crates into the ship before rushing in.
Adam crouched between a pair of crates as he watched the cargo doors shut, the sight of the rushing guards still stuck in the crowd bringing a smile to his face. The ship shook soon after, alerting Adam of its ascent. There were a few distinct pings as bullets bounced off the hull of the ship, a few holes appearing in the walls and causing sunlight to leak into the hold, but the escape otherwise went off without a hitch. Adam sighed.
Adam tugged off the wig, grunting as it yanked on his hair, then gently removed the color contacts. After doing his best to wipe the makeup off with his sleeve, he fished his Scroll out of his back pocket and made a call to Abraham.
"Sharise?" Abraham's voice rasped over the line.
Adam almost grunted. They definitely did this part just to fuck with him. He swallowed, raising his larynx as he tried his best to speak in a higher, softer tone of voice. "We had a wonderful dinner, he even fronted the bill."
Abraham grunted in affirmation. "Will you be home late?"
Adam rolled his eyes, his foot tapping impatiently on the floor of the ship. "No, he got me a taxi."
"Good." Was all Abraham said before dropping the call.
Adam simply dropped the Scroll, allowing it to clatter against the metal floor. He tugged off his cape, disrobing and leaving the clothes on the floor of the ship. The momentary chill of being mostly naked within the cold airship was rather uncomfortable, and Adam began quickly wrenching the tops off the crates, searching for the one they'd stashed his clothes and weapons in.
At first, Adam didn't quite parse the contents of the first crate. After all, who would expect to find explosives in a box that their shirt was supposed to be in?
Adam dropped the lid back on the crate, rushing to lift up the next one. More explosives. Fuck.
Bright blue eyes darted around, trying to find an exit, only to be met with grey walls on all sides— except for the captain's cabin. He rushed to the steel door, rapidly turning its round valve-like handle and wrenching it open, only to find the captain standing in the doorway, the barrel of his revolver levelled squarely with Adam's forehead.
Adam ducked low as he sent a palm up, the bullet barely whizzing past his head as he struck at the captain's hand, sending the gun flying free of his grip. The captain tried to headbutt him, but Adam quickly ducked around, switching their positions as he kicked the yak Faunus into the hold. With the few seconds he had left, Adam shut the metal door and braced himself against it.
The door flew off its hinges immediately as the explosion cooked its steel plating to well over 300 degrees centigrade, causing Adam's mostly naked body to erupt in immediate third and fourth-degree burns where he made contact with the door. Even as the pain sent him into shock, though, his muscles stiffened, firmly locking his grip to the door and sending them both through the glass windshield of the cockpit and through the air. Adam could barely recognize that he was flying, the blinding pain mixing with the encroaching unconsciousness, but he could just barely recognize the sea stretching out in all directions, as far as he could see.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice calmly told him that he would die here. If not the explosion, the impact with the water would almost certainly break him, and he would drown shortly after that. Perhaps he should have stayed in the hold, where his death would likely be more swift. He wanted to scream, shout Abraham's name to the heavens with his last dying breath in the hopes that some vengeful god would hear, but the wind rushing by him robbed his lungs of air. No last words.
As the burns killed the nerves along his arms, chest, and legs, he found the pain disappearing, only to be replaced by some small serenity as he crashed through the sky, careening towards his death. Alone in the empty water, naked, skin likely fused to a steel door, and a dead ambassador behind him. What a shitty way to go.
For only the briefest moment, he felt the frigid water against his back, then pure darkness.