A tragedy family (Rated M)

A woman in a gold dress runs down a hallway decorated with the art of an elegant European mansion, the lights are out as the rain pours down in thick waves. Tears stream down her face as she moves with a desperate pace leaving her stiletto heels far behind. She turns down one corner and another fleeing something she cant see right now. She's a young girl no more than twenty five with pixie cut back hair, Korean as well. She makes it to the massive front doors of the mansion and pulls hard at the doors, but they dont budge. Tap... tap... tap... The sound of the footsteps slowly descending the stairway behind her, the accompanying sound to the deep drum beat of her heart. A gentle Scottish male voice pierces the darkness as a silhouette of a tall man in a suit becomes visible. "Don't run, there's no where to go where you'll be safe from him... It'll be fast, I'm sorry." The womans eyes go wide as two whispers escape the tiniest muzzle flash from the silhouette of the tall man. Her head hits the wall as her eyes roll back and two holes stream blood. The tall man seemingly melts into the shadows on the ground, one shadow stretches out from below to grab the spent casings.

TWO DAYS LATER, NORTH EAST U.S 8:00AM

Cebra is on his farm tending to the chicken coop as a bunch of hens cluck and peck around very comfortable and familiar with the cyborg. He collects some eggs and heads back inside after he's finished choring to have a quick shower and change of clothing from his work stuff. He makes his rounds pretty early dropping off deliveries of farm fresh goods as well as helping out like the handy man he is. It was around twelve before he got to return home and have some time for himself, time usually reserved for monitoring police communications or the news. He had his own network of bugs, informants and other means to monitor crime especially Orion. He was about to turn on the news when his phone rang "Hello?" A man with a heavy French accent and broken English responds with clear stress and urgency "Cebra mon ami ces't toi?(Cebra my friend is that you?) Thank God I reach you. Je besoin ton aide, ces't une grave situation si vous plait vien chez moi (I need your help, it's a serious situation please come see me) I'm in deep shit! L'avion est en route (the plane is en route) please go to the private air strip in Wesely field!" Cebra was kinda stunned at first but new that voice all to well.

Bertrand de Lachamp was a considerably wealthy individual and inventor who retired at the age of 40. Cebra first encountered him when Orion tried to have him assassinated over the release of some tech they had no paten on yet. Cebra ended up saving his life and was rewarded with a few upgrades to his S.E.M target tracking program. He helped Bertrand gain a false identity and escape from Marrakesh to France. Needless to say this man was worth helping despite his douche bag personality. "Ferme ta guel J'arrive, ca parle de quoi? (Shut your mouth I'm coming, what the fuck is this about?) Bertrand fumbles for a second "Pas sur telephone, quand tu arrive on va parle (Not on the phone, when you arrive we will talk). See you soon friend." Click! "I'm not your... sigh." Well time to go to the French countryside it seemed, fortunately Cebra always travelled light and was ready to go quickly. A few tools secreted away and of course his weapon of choice the silenced HAM-r7 a big hand gun with almost no noise. He brought one change of clothing and chose to wear a professional business suit, black tie and all.

FRANCE, BORDEAUX  10:00PM

The arrival at the Lachamp manor was as gaudy as Cebra expected, apparently laying low didn't compute with this moron. Cebra arrived via Bertrands personal driver in his limo... Cebra was not into this at all, couldn't wait to get out. He was guided around the back entrance past the flower garden and seven layer pool area. Past statues and some real try hard modern art. The guards escorted Cebra up to the top floor where Bertrands office was, the halls looked like they had been decorated by some New York hipster artist. The doors opened and there stood the 43 year old man child with blonde streaks in his thinning hair and jewelry that demanded to be looked at as needy as the owner. "AH! Cebra! merveilleux! Vien ici mon ami (Marvelous! Come here my friend!)" He says before approaching with open arms for a hug. Cebra puts his arm out and stops him right quick with a shake of the head as well. "Eh right I forget you American men are too macho to hug." Cebra deadpans him "You said this was serious, I... Before we go on, you didn't say there would be other company." Cebra says as he spots someone sitting in a large chair with their back turned to him. Bertrand frowns a bit coming to the realization Cebra isn't that friendly with him, but quickly that smirk returns. "Ah yes well I need all the help I can get including this lovely woman who I have hired. The chair turns and Cebra instantly tenses up going from zero to red alert, his fingers already near his weapon are spring loaded like a gunslinger... It was Granger's assassin.

Days before Nine had gotten her new assignment she was in the Northern Mountains of Canada. She was there with a “companion”. A coworker who she had grown fond in her years working for Chimera. He was a bit younger than her, but neither party seemed to mind. He was never much of a flirt which did bother her some, though, but he more than made up for it in a natural charm and intellect that she admired. He knew things about people and the way they acted like no other, and he could provide insight that she’d never even dream of.

Of course, this wasn’t a romantic get away in the mountains. There was rarely time for such pleasantries but getting a joined mission with him was just as good. It was an excuse to see each other and, on the way, back to their central base they would have alone time together. The way there they couldn’t get a moment alone as they had to be debriefed of the mission.

The job itself wasn’t anything too difficult, at least for the two of them. A facility that Chimera had funded had gone rogue and decided that it would keep the product it was making to itself, or…maybe they planned to sell it? Nine hadn’t quite looked into the details of their goals. Her concern, as always, was the targets. The facility wasn’t all that well armed and it’s main defense came from the mountains themselves. It was cold and transport up there was tricky. Aircraft could get lost or thrown off course if the pilot didn’t know what they were doing, roads froze over, and approaching by snowmobile? Well, they had EMps for that. Sure, not part of the mountain, but they thought a lot of it through. That would disable all three methods of getting in. They could use it to get out when they were done, but to get up…

Their approach had been the quiet one. A five day hike up the freezing cold mountain (mixed with some natural heating methods they both were happy to employ) and then frontal assault. Two lone figures in the snow would arouse suspicion for sure, but it’d also make them drop their guard. What could two people do against an entire base after all? One of them only had a sword and the other had a rifle. The combined might surely couldn’t amount to much. Two people against twenty-two men, minor artillery, and fortified walls.

At the end of the hour the base didn’t stand much of a chance and Nine made the call back to base that they were done and were awaiting evac. When it arrived however she was surprised to see that it was not one, but two crafts. When questioned she and her companion, her partner, received an answer they were both dreading. They had guessed it at the sight of the two aircrafts, but they both secretly held out hope that they would be returning together.

Nine was assigned a new job. She was hired by a private investor to do some work. Her companion also had work to do, business down in Mexico. An escort job. Nine, however, had received her usual. Assassination. She wasn’t sure how the individual knew of Chimera or what his ties to organized crime were, but a job was a job and she couldn’t say no. Especially not to Isaac, who had personally asked that she do so. He seemed, at least, a bit understanding of her displeasure and promised that she’d have a week off very soon. And that the week would line up with her companion’s week off.

At least it was something to look forward to.

In the meantime, her and her companioned said their quick goodbyes and got to work. The individual who hired her was one Bertrand, a strange name, but she wasn’t one to judge. She hadn’t received much information and would be briefed there. She also discovered that she wouldn’t be working alone, though she didn’t have the name of the person she’d be working with. In addition, she received an…additional job. Something secret that would have to wait until this job was over. She was used to back up jobs and secret jobs. Kill that, steal this, frame them, make sure to leave a calling card to throw the authorities off the trail, blah blah blah…it was all just work to her. Work that she very much wanted to get over with so that she take that promised vacation.

She was lead through an ugly house that she thought was far from impressive and into an office room where she was told to sit down and wait for her assistant to arrive. Only then would she receive the details of the job. Time had passed slowly, but when the door opened and she turned she could only tilt her head at the man. She knew he recognized her, she could see it in his eyes. Part of her thought that he’d draw a weapon and just fire on her there, but she held out on the hope that he would just go along with it as he seemed to be hired as well.

Of course, an idea passed through her head. She wanted to mess with the man. She didn’t like him and was an emotional machine, why not stir him up a bit? She gave a small tilt of her head as she stared at him, a very genuine look. “Ah, do I know you?” She shook her head, “Probably not. I’m Nine. You’ll be my assistant for this mission. And don't draw, you'll just end up damaging our employer's office.” She stated firmly and business like. She kept a proper tone and attitude, not once hinting at the fact that she did know him and that she was just messing with him. The assistant part was a joke as well, but she wanted to see how much he could mess with him. Assassination was hard work, but she had to have her fun here and there too.

Cebra was none too pleased to see this assassin again obviously, and her attitude appeared to be one of a punk teenager. He turned to Bertrand with a sudden stern expression that couldn't be mistaken for anything but a lack of patience. Bertrand was a bit confused himself turning his head back and forth between the two. He may have been a bit of a blowhard but he wasn't stupid, perceiving the familiarity between Nine and Cebra. He hesitantly begins to open his mouth to speak. "Well for the sake of brevity I shall skip the introductions of both of you to each other, I feel that might not be a necessity oui?" He snaps to a blonde servant girl in a scantily short maids uniform "Laisse nous." He tells them and they leave the room. "Cebra there's no need for your... hostility." He turns to Nine "Nor any provocation, if you please. I've called upon both your services for no small price." He takes a seat at the large throne like chair behind the oversized mahogany table across from Nine. Cebra sighs indignantly before taking a seat next to Nine. "Well go on then."

"A few days ago in my humble little home there was an incident, a young woman was murdered near the front door shot to death." He shakes his head sadly. "She was a... Well I wont lie, a call girl from a rather renown service. She was keeping me company Last Thursday." Cebra pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration an exasperation, all too familiar with this fools escapades "Please don't tell me..." Bertrand interrupts Cebra quickly "NO! It was not me! I was not even home at the time, I was in Toulouse at the time." Cebra looks at him skeptically "So you left a hooker in your mansion alone?" Bertrand sneers a little at the word hooker as though it was so beneath him. "There was security staff all over and cameras in many halls, and no they did not capture anything unfortunately. Whoever did this knew my security well enough to disable cameras and knock out the guards."

Bertrand opens up a desk and pulls out a crumpled magazine page, he slides it across the table to Cebra who picks it up. He examines it before reading the crudely cut and glue pasted words making a message in French. Cebra reads it out "To Bertrand de Lachamp the usurper. I hope this message finds you well. I have sent to you a copy of a recording taken at your home not too long ago. I suppose in your drunken arrogance you did not truly know the identity of that girl, sadly I do. I will make this clear and short, I want something that you have. If you inform the authorities I will know and your disgusting little secret becomes public. You will come to the old warehouse the address below. You will hand over the rights to the Newgarde transmitter. If you cross me, then I promise the truth will be even worse than what you can imagine. Sunday 23:00." Cebra looks across to Bertrand with a glare. "You slept with a kid?" Bertrand is fast to reply with anger. "You think if I knew I would have done such a thing?!" Cebra says nothing in return.

Nine really did feel indifferent to see her previous opposition here. She remembered him, no doubt on that, but was indifferent nonetheless. That job was over and done with and there was no point in try to live in the past about it. She won, he didn't. If was holding resentment towards her for it than that was his problem, not hers. Tonight, she had a different job and if he caused any problems she would be sure to put him down so that she could rightly finish the job. She didn't have time for petty rivalry or grudges. It was fun to see his reaction at the very least.

She blinked at that man, innocently turning her head. She feigned it all near perfectly as if she truly did believe it (She was an expert liar, you had to be to be an assassin). "Provocation? I have no idea what you're talking about, just like I don't know this man. I don't like accusations. That's a very good way to lose a client." She urged seriously. This job wasn't top priority and there other things she could be doing. Things she felt were a better use of her time and she'd walk if the subject was pushed, but for now she would just listen. She didn't seem in the least bit amused, patience being running out, moment by moment.

Overall, the situation was nothing surprising. Stuff like this happened a lot in the world she lived in and she, after the first few jobs, had become unphased to such matters. She watched with an idle glance, not really showing all that much emotion as her client went on about the greater details of the job. All she needed was a target, but if he felt like this information was needed then she'd listen. Occasionally she'd give a slight tap of her foot, urging him to hurry up with the details. It was a waste of time otherwise.

At the outburst she let out an annoyed sigh, leaning back a bit. "Sir, please give us the details of the job, location of where we're going, the specific target if you have it, or, if you want us to investigate this, give us some sort of lead. I'm an assassin, you pay me to kill, not to listen to you justify or explain what you did. This is a delicate situation and you don't want it going public. Fine. That's all I need to know." She made a motion with her hand to show that was her final call on the matter. "So please, the specific details. Then, my back up and I can get to work." She was leaning forward again, eyeing the man carefully. She felt like he was leaving something out, there was no reason for all of this detail unless there was something else. Something was getting to him...

Bertrand was a little off set by the sudden refute by the woman of her connection to Cebra. Though he had no desire to explore the situation any further and was far more focused on his own issues. Cebra was more preoccupied by the message however, or more specifically the paper it was written on. He handed the message over to Nine to see if she could pick up the peculiar thing he did. Cebra wasn't at all convinced Bertrand was telling him everything either, as he suspected. Bertrand reached inside his desk drawer and drew a cigarette with his delicate, slender fingers. "The only lead I have is the service that sent the girl over. They are very thorough on background searches, odd that they missed an underaged girl."

He took out his phone and searched for the advertisement for the escort agency, it featured a lewdly dressed model and a video clip of the owner advertising their services. He slid the phone to Cebra across the table quickly caught by Cebra. "... Un huh, figures." Cebra says with apathy in his tone. "As long as you're in my employ you can use the motor pool how you like, and any other resources at my disposal are yours. I frankly don't care what you have to do to make this go away. If that means solving the crime and finding the proper culprit so be it... But I wont ask questions if you'd find it preferable to remove the problem a little more forcefully." The tone on the last part coming off decidedly more enigmatic.

Cebra looked at Bertrand with a cocked eyebrow then a side eye to Nine. Cebra figured that's probably the main reason she was hired, a final solution to the problem. Cebra was certainly a capable assassin however maybe Bertrand didn't think Cebra would be willing to murder for him, or at the very least murder whoever was responsible for this. All interesting information. "Fine then, we should begin. Are you ready or what?" Cebra says to nine.

Nine gave the phone a once over, her eyes trailing over the details of the advertisement. It seemed rather normal as far as these sort of organizations go. She had been in the crime industry for awhile now and this kind of set up was not something she hadn't delved into before. She once actually had to pose as...well, she didn't want to get into that memory. Either way, it was nice to be not taking that sort of route for this job. She slid the phone back to Bertrand and nodded, "Alright, I suppose we should probably head to their offices or wherever they keep the girls first and see what they have there. Maybe they can be persuaded to talk about it a bit more." She looked over to Cebra, nodding at him, "Alright, stranger, let's go." She stood up from the chair and grabbed her duffle bag, beginning to move towards the door. As she walked she casted one last glance over to Bertrand, not blinking for a moment. "Consider the problem dealt with. Chimera will expect its payment by the end of the week. If not, then you and I will meet again, but for very different business." She didn't wait for a reply and just walked through the door and into the hall.

As she exited she reached into her pocket and took out a phone. Tapping quickly, she made a call, putting it to her ear. After a single tone someone picked up, "Sasha. I got the job and a vague amount of details. Gonna make my way there now with a...plus one. I know that wasn't part of the plan, but I will continue as instructed." She paused for a moment as Sasha replied, the voice mumbled, "Yes, I know. And afterwards I will be good to go on with the plan." She took another pause, nodding. "Yes, ma'am. I understand. Thank you."

She flipped the phone closed and then looked to Cebra (or the door if he had not left yet), and sighed. "So...we taking one of his cars or do you have a preferred means of travel? Either way, you're driving to the location. There are a few things I need to send out before getting there and won't be able to take the wheel."

Bertrand was not anywhere near destitute and money was of little consequence to him. Such a statement was unnecessary but the Frenchman nodded his head politely anyways. Cebra rises from his seat heading for the door, he hears his new partner and pauses. Cebra would rather be as incognito as possible on this investigation, probably best not to register a rental car then. "I'll drive then." She had a few things to 'send out', he thought that interesting but nothing tied to the investigation. Cebra had a few connections on a lower level in France, enough to know he could forge a multitude of false I.D's if needed. It would be too long to create an entire person but a badge and some history would go a long way. He took the time walking to the motor pool to send a text to a certain friend, he would have to wait a little while but it would be a useful tool perhaps.

The motor pool was a little more like an underground bunker that was reached by elevator from the floor they were on. Heavily reinforced concrete, steal beams and security on patrol as a few mechanics looked over Bertrand's vehicles. The cars were out on show like a phallic display of wealth, hard to choose the least conspicuous among the bright golds, reds, silvers and pristine night black.

There was one Audi that looked normal enough among the muscle and sports cars neatly lined. Cebra walked up to one of the mechanics and tapped his shoulder "Excuse moi, je besoin les cle pour cette voiture la" (Excuse me I need the keys for that car there). The mechanic points to a wall in a workshop behind a glass barrier, the keys for all the vehicles hang there. He grabs the keys and walks to the car just remembering this was Europe, quickly changing sides. "This one will do, get in." He says before he hops in the drivers side and starts the car.

Nine had followed behind him, tapping on her phone and beginning to send out what she had hinted at before. There were details about the job that needed to be specified, targets cleared, and people to be notified. There was also the need for a package that would be delivered promptly by the end of the mission and from there she would continue to enact her plan. But for now there was another job to be done and that would take priority.

As he spoke to the mechanic she was still on the phone, idly listening, and before he had even told her to get in she already had the door open and was sitting down. She didn't need his say-so after all. From there, she shut the door and kept her eyes on the phone, not once casting a glance in Cebra's direction. There wasn't much care for him in those actions, not paying him much, if any, mind. She rarely did team-based jobs and rarely did it entail working closely with another, so for this case, she didn't plan to do all that much teamwork, taking the job as if it was a solo job. Though, of course, she still remembered what he could do from their last encounter and there may be uses for him, but part of her couldn't help from wanting to stir the pot either.

Still looking at her phone, she spoke in a dull and unimpressed tone. "I should warn you.” She started, "That I tend to work more so on my own. I am sniper and an assassin. We don’t do well in pairs. At least I don’t."She did know full well of what this man was capable of, "So, I figure the best way to handle this is to separate, keep a brief and quiet line of communication. And then go about the job as we each see fit, giving updates when we can.” She still hadn't looked from her phone as she tapped away a message, “Just stay out of my way and I with yours and we just work towards the same goal separately. Simple, no?” She had a feeling that this wouldn’t go over well with the man. There was always a need for teamwork in this excursions and what people rarely understood was that she did in fact operate the best on her own. Even if he did accept there would be some need to cooperate together, the thought of which didn’t sit well with Nine at all, but a job was a job after all.

Cebra's face didn't flinch, he had heard Nine speak but at the same time was in a private conversation of his own. Cyco had been running calculations of its own concerning this investigation and the presence of Nine, he snapped out of it near the end of what she was saying. "Hm?! Oh... So you haven't been enjoying my warm hospitality? Shame, yeah sure. Frankly it doesn't ruin my plans." Having her around could prove useful, his less than fond feelings were easily pushed aside. Cebra was well used to people around him dying, friends or otherwise. After all he had taken enough life that it was karmic. To Cebra this woman was a common occurrence, a hazard of the workplace. "Regardless we're both heading towards the same place right now."

The old stone of French construction from medieval times gave the city a very elegant feel, the smell in some places was a bit awful. It was around 7:20PM when they pulled up to the call girl building, it was less ornate than one might think. Looked a little more modern and as though there had been some recent renovations. Cebra parked in a nearby garage on the fourth floor and shut the motor off. "So how do you recommend we go about asking for information on missing girls?" Cebra says with his gaze fixed forward into the parking structure. "I dont yet have any of the ID necessary to be seen as a cop, I dont think they'll just give up the information."

The truth was Cebra had a plan for that, in a way. Nothing guaranteed to succeed but an angle to fall back on, always have a fail safe measure is one of his motto's.

An audible sigh left Nine as the man chimed up. She didn’t offer much in terms of a response to his first sarcastic remark, she didn’t feel any real need to. Nine herself, in terms of information that may be drawn up on her, was…obviously, an assassin. The company that she worked through was relatively unknown, though the term Chimera would arise here and there, but not much could be drawn from them on the whole. They had presence in a few underground developmental areas that were considered illegal but did business on a wide range of criminal activity. They had their hands in nearly everything that could be considered illegal. Human trafficking, assassinations, drug manufacturing and testing, illegal use and development of advanced and dangerous technologies, and in less than ethical meta experimentation. She would obviously be here for assassination, but there was probably business behind just that.

The question came wasn’t a bad one, but it seemed obvious on how they should proceed. “If the information is not forthcoming, even after threats, I usually make good on threats. If you’re not good with more intense questioning, I can take the charge on that. Just wait outside the room and maybe put on some music.” She spoke simply. “Whether they want to or not, they’ll give up the info if they know what is good for them. What’s that old movie quote…” Movies were never her strong suit and she had to consider it for a few moments. “Ah, we’ll make them an offer they can’t turn down.” She nodded, content with this.

“If we’re lucky…” She started, “There will be more than one source of information. It is easier to show we’re going to be doing business if we can demonstrate how serious we are about getting the information.” She didn’t break that casual tone and not once did she actually look over at the man. She finally, did, however, give a nod. “Whenever you’re ready though, lead the way.”