Masterpiece (AAT and Silver) [DOUBLE XP]

The Tate Modern.

A series of black limousines approached the sectioned off streets that surrounded the retired electric facility, their bright white headlights cutting through the black veil of darkness. A light rain pattered against the terrain and the persons in attendance, as the limousine doors were opened for the people that they carried. They were billionaires, oligarchs, politicians and businessmen. The pinnacles of society, who came from their corners of the world to convene at the modern art museum of London. There was a special event tonight, invintations to a special closed-doored event. No one quite knew what was going on at the Tate Modern, but they suspected it was nothing more but a bidding for the several art pieces shown there.

But it was something more than just a simple auction for art. A collection of these individuals were trading something more than just sums or stocks. Human trafficking, drug and weapons trading, selling governmental favours for their campaign funding. Body guards filed the cream of society as they approched the guarded entrance at the Tate Modern. Watching through the scope of his binoculars, AAT-08317 located his target: one Avgust Moskvin.

A Russian oligarch with connections to organised crime around the globe, delving into politics of the Federation by offering contributions to governmental figures. The Administration wanted him gone, for the interests and the security of the Russian Federation. The assassin placed his binoculars back into a patch below his disguise as a waiter. AAT-08317 stepped over the cold body of the real waiter under his feet as he approached the door that led off the roof of the Tate Modern, and back into the interior of the art museum.

Israel leapt through the misty night air, the wind flapping his suit somewhat, and yet making no sound as it did so. He landed silently on the tall tower of the Tate Modern, and looked down at the approaching limousines from up above at the building's edge. His vision, expanded as it was in order to take in the entire electromagnetic spectrum, was perfectly suited to gathering intel on the people inside.

From the elevated vantage point that he possessed upon the tower of the historic art museum, he knew where the ones he was looking for were before the dignitaries had ever exited their vehicles. One in particular, the man known as Avgust Moskvin, was the priority target out of this group; a man suspected of human traficking, specializing primarily in the kidnapping and selling of metahumans.

Israel stood as the black limousines parked and the persons of interest got out of each of their respective vehicles. He had increased his body's density, that of his skin, fat, and bones, but stored some of his personal gravitation at the same time in order to compensate for the increase in weight, allowing him to remain light, quick, and agile; ready for the evening's coming events.

And speaking of events, the art exhibition would be starting soon. He gazed straight through the roof upon which he was standing, looking down at his targets and increasing his hearing in order to listen in, even from where he stood, on the conversations going on below. As his eyes followed the dignitaries, he paused.

There was a body.

Someone had been killed some time ago, but not too long before his arrival.

He looked around quickly for a potential culprit, and quickly spotted something out of the ordinary. There was a man with cybernetic implants and a variety of weapons on his person, as well as what appeared to be a high-tech nano-weave suit of some kind.

That would almost certainly be the one that took out the waiter, considering that the outward appearance that the man wore imitated the man that had passed into the next world.

Israel disengaged the EM lock on the pouch that contained his badge and flipped it open, pressing its center and opening a secure channel to ECLIPSE. The radio communicator that was contained within was custom designed so that its radio waves were not actually interpreted into speech by the communicator itself, but by the Silver Scion's brain, directly. Meanwhile, Israel would reply in the form of words spoken at sub-sonic frequencies, so that secure communication could be maintained. In the event that the incoming signal was intercepted, the message it contained would likewise come through as infrasound.

"Hostile Augmented in the area. Civilian down. Advise. Over." Static "Permission to apprehend secondary target. Use of deadly force authorized if necessary. Proceed with mission. Over." "Understood. Over and out."

He stepped off of the tower, falling like a feather to the roof before opening the door and heading inside...

AAT-08317 walked down the staircase of the Tate Modern, as he moved through into a group of 'fellow' staff members who wore similar items of clothing. There was a series of members who adorned themselves with the equipment to either play music, or to serve food. The assassin stopped metres away from his station, as he appoached the table that was fashioned with a violin. AAT-08317 reached for it, as his movement was stopped by someone grabbing him by the shoulder. The assassin paused, as he looked over his shoulder toward the man who stopped him: "The weather alright outside?"

"Quite damp. But yes." AAT-08317 replied, as the fellow server nodded his head.

"You've got a lighter I could borrow?" He then asked.

AAT-08317 eyed the man carefully, before he removed the metal cylinder he had found on the body of the waiter he had eliminated. He held the object in view, before offering it to the fellow 'server' as the man very happily took it up. The man replied with a low: "Cheers, mate." before he disengaged to approach the stairs of the facility. The assassin then turned his attention back to the violin as he picked up the object.

"Know where they're doing the bargaining?" He heard one of the fellow staffers ask.

"Third floor." A second replied, "Got some pretty faces among them. Shame I don't have the money. Wouldn't mind one of them myself."

There was a low laugh that followed as the assassin fitted his hand around the shape of the violin as he lifted the delicate object. He felt the weight in his hands. Before he fit it between his chin and shoulder as he drew up the bow of the instrument. That was where his target was likely located: the third floor. AAT-08317 then rested the instrument delicately on his shoulder, before he approached the door with the rest of the instrumented group.

The group he was there to gather intel on was making their way up to the third floor, so Israel remained just above that floor, listening to their conversation. He couldn't hide in plain sight like the assassin could, so he watched and listened out of sight, keeping his eyes on his primary and secondary targets. It seemed that the assassin had joined with the group of musicians to attain more cover for himself, and to get closer to his intended target, whoever it was.

Israel considered going down the stairs to apprehend the assassin, but the moment he did, he would be made by the group he was sent to tail. It was all very inconvenient.

For now, all he could do was watch and wait, and hope for the best.

AAT-08317 followed the musicians carefully and slowly, ensuring that he wouldn't attract attention to himself. The assassin stepped into the room containing a portion of the guests to the event. Around them was a collection of welded art produced by one Allen Tyurik: metal contraptions that portrayed a series of cages that contained the 'people' trapped inside. Symbolic of something perhaps, but AAT-08317 didn't particularly like Tyurik's art or thought. The assassin considered it to be made by an amateur.

However the guests marvelled at the art pieces, one in particular. The target: Avgust Moskvin. The man seemed to be aged at just 43 years old, and had greying hair and a beard. He wore a black suit with a blue tie, and by his side stood a body guard. The musicians took their place in a half circle, organising themselves based on which instrument they held. AAT-08317 pressed the violin ne held in its proper position, before aligning the bow with it.

"They even brought music!" One of the guests laughed, "What an event! Business, food and entertainment!"

Moskvin laughed, before he turned back to the guest: "Yes, about that business, Mr. Lane..."

"I've already agreed, Mr. Moskvin!"

"I have an inventory ready, if you'd like." Moskvin tempted.

AAT-08317 narrowed his eyes as the band began to play. The assassin made quick work of his reflexes and his listening to code and produce music at the same rhythm the rest of the band did. He tuned his concentration to Moskvin and Lane, noting that they planned to meet on the second floor in a few minutes. A deal was being made, meaning that they were likely to be alone at that time.

Good. AAT-08317 thought.

Israel made his way down the stairs via the ceiling, passing a waiter that was on his way out for a smoke.

At length, he came to the room where the cybernetically enhanced man was playing in near-perfect synchronicity with the others.

So, he has either had time to practice, or his implants give him some form of hyper-cognition. Israel thought.

He waited outside, being close enough to burst in if needed, but far enough that he should be able to avoid detection for now.

What are you up to?

The passing waiter turned toward Israel as he passed by, glancing at the strange man as he tried to get his attention: "Oi! The museum is closed, mate! What are you--" As Israel moved by, the waiter waved it off, thinking someone downstairs would deal with him.

AAT-08317 continued to play the melody, as he watched Moskvin and Lane turn heel to now leave to attend to their business. The assassin stroked the strings of the violin in a way that they cleverly broke and left him without an instrument. The composer noticed this, as he waved the band to stop before he stuttered: "Mr. Mayhelm, is your violin not tuned?!"

"It appears not." AAT-08317 replied, feigning a well done English accent, "But I can repair the string."

"Get to it then!" The conductor yelled, before he calmed down to the anxious crowd of business people, before he started: "My apologies, Ladies and Gentlemen! We will get back to the preformance soon enough!"

AAT-08317 took the violin, as he stepped off to the second floor with the violin in hand. His hand wrapped around the broken violin string as he yanked it from the instrument, fashioning a garrote as the assassin followed Moskvin and Lane, far away enough to avoid suspicion from his target and the crowd.

Israel watched from his location, identifying armed guards and the like whilst keeping a wary eye on the augmented.

He made his way around to the building, when, inevitably one of the guards started to look up. However, before he could sound an alarm or even view him fully, Israel tapped speed while storing his effective weight to dart instantly and silently across the ceiling and around the corner.

He then made his way towards the augmented, hoping to thwart the man from his presumable assassination attempt.

AAT-08317 kept his eyes focused on his target, as they took a turn around a corner into a seperate gallery. The assassin's senses heightened, to try to get a good idea where they were based on their footsteps.

AAT-08317 stopped, holding still as he placed the violin he held in his hands down on the ground. The assassin refused to reach down into his jacket to remove his Cz-45, as he stepped forward toward the gallery the two stepped into, glancing around. There were a variety of cages, following the odd aesthetic of the art as there were actual humans inside.

Humans. Metas.

Moskvin walked around with his perspective buyer, listing off the metahumans and their abilities. There was a smile on Lane's face, as he stepped to one which appeared to be nothing more than a young child. Lane stopped, as he looked toward Moskvin: "And what about this one?"

"Her?" The Oligarch laughed, "Please, she isn't worth much!"

"What does she do?"

AAT-08317 paused behind a piece of art, spotting an armed guard with a submachine gun in his hands. One of the four in the room. They were organised in a way that if one was taken down, another was guaranteed to see. The assassin flicked his makeshift garrote, as he looked at the child.

"Manipulate electricity. But only if it is there." Moskvin stopped, as he motioned a guard forward as he removed a taser from his belt. The child whimpered, as she backed away. "Or does she? I don't remember!"

The guard began to tase the small child, as she started to scream in pain. AAT-08317 took this moment to his advantage, as he threw his garrote around the guards neck and pulled him back behind the cover. His eyes met with a metahuman's as he did this, choking the life out of the man as the assassin silently commanded the metahuman to be quite, as she only nodded her head in response. Dropping his garrote with the dead body, AAT-08317 removed the mans clothes as he quietly disguised himself, discarding the musicians gear before he took hold of the submachine gun and stepped from behind cover, and into plain view.

Israel watched in disgust as a deplorable conversation took place between the man he was sent to tail and his "customer."

They were both in the same league, both content to treat other humans like cattle.

The guards did not seem to be any better as one tased a small child  for nothing more than to display her abilities or lack thereof.

Israel followed the augmented as he swiftly took out a guard. Israel thought of stopping him, but the guard's actions made him hesitate and he ultimately allowed the man to die.

He watched as the augmented assassin quietly communicated for the girl to be quiet.

Well, I guess now's as good as later, he thought...

... Then he stepped forward and attempted to tap the augmented assassin on his left shoulder.

AAT-08317 felt something tap his shoulder, as he dropped his SMG and removed his Cz-45, turning around back behind cover as he attempted to thrust the silenced barrel of the weapon up into the throat of the man. He looked over the odd appearance of the man, his silver eyes communicating nothing.

Emotionless.

Faded.

Distant.

AAT-08317 didn't pull the trigger immediately, understanding that the man wasn't a guard.

"We're after the same man." Israel said, surprisingly in a normal voice. "Don't worry. No one will be able to hear us."

Israel stored much of the light around them as well, creating a silent, dark space for them to talk.

"Moskvin is a vile and despicable man that the world would be better without, yes. But before he faces justice for his actions, I need to find where he is keeping the others and how he is supplied with metahumans... Then we can bring down his whole organization."

Israel watched the man expectantly.

AAT-08317 stared directly into Israel's eyes, as he spoke in a stern tone: "We?' They are not my concern, Moskvin is."

Israel nods.

"That may be, but I only ask that you delay long enough to allow me to gather the information I require. At worst, I help you do your job. At best, you help me do mine. Either way, we both benefit."

"Then I suggest you find out your information. I work on my own clock. Not yours." AAT-08317 replied, as he holstered his Cz-45 and picked up his submachine gun once more as he stepped back into plain view. They had stopped tasing the little girl, her skin having been shifting and shaping in different forms and colours. Lane laughed, "Look at that!"

"Are you sure you want her?" Moskvin asked, "It is worthless!"

"My money, Mr. Moskvin."