A high risk investment (IC; Offline)

[Esternial]

A high risk investment

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OOC Thread

"Let's begin this board meeting, shall we?

We have been running steady for some time, so I believe now would be the best time to act. There is no conceivable method for us to end up ahead of the current top unless we partake in some benchmarking. Corporations such as IBM and Pepsi are know to partake in shady, under-the-table business, and it's about time we adopted this best practice methodology. But since AD is currently the flavour of the month, I doubt we could do this unnoticed.

Fortunately, I may have found a solution to our predicament. I intend to throw them a curve by outsourcing our newest project to a new corporation and let them spearhead operations that will benefit us one way or another. Of course, to lure away any suspicion, we'll also have them operate in favour of other corporations - hopefully eliminating them from the market if we tip off the right people with information about these corporations' involvement.

The name? Eris International."

---

"Damn it, Vienna. This technology..."

"...is property of Microsoft," The woman replied in a cold tone, "which means that it's not up to you to decide whether we reveal it to the public or not."

Even though the bitch was right, Jolt felt like there was something inherently wrong with this entire corporation. Suppressing his anger by clenching his fist until the impressions of his nails became visible in the palms of his hands, he tried to find out were it all went wrong. Since the CEO stopped showing himself out in public, Vienna Microsoft now pretty much acted as the CEO's liaison.

"Okey. You're right, as always. I'll get back to developing the newest app."

"Thank you for understanding, Jolt."

Whatever it was that the CTO of Microsoft muttered under his breath next probably wasn't a compliment. His relationship with Vienna was complicated to say the least. Despite being her superior, Jolt despises every fibre in that wench's body and damned her to the deepest crevices of hell reserved only for child molesters and people who talk at the theatre. To him, she was a demon incarnate.

And most likely a succubus, which would explain everything that went on after work hours. The likeliness that these two colleagues would ever have an affair was so slim that it was probably equal to the amount of people that thought Vista was better than Windows 7, which was probably why they could pull it off without anyone being any wiser of this consensual agreement between the de-facto CEO and CTO of Microsoft. Even though he would never admit it himself, Jolt was the bottom-bitch in this relationship, where Vienna's brutal approach could barely even be regarded as passion as much as it resembled some raw form of anger; Jolt had the bruises to show for it, but he didn't complain.

"Well, that's it for today, Jolt. Go home" Vienna said as she approached him, bending over Jolt's modest dark-grey desk and casually brushing aside some of his office accessories. A loud clang resonated throughout Jolt's office as a stapler met the ground for closer inspection, drawing the attention of the clerks working on the other side of the glass walls that only seemed to have been put there to prank people, because they didn't muffle any sounds, obscure anyone from view or anything else for that matter (an utter disappointment only made worse by the two jackasses that insisted on cleaning them every day). As several curious eyes stared at the two unlikely companions, Vienna whispered some last words in Jolt's ears before leaving the office, her face placed on a setting that was familiar throughout the office.

"Whatever they were arguing about, she won." One of the clerks said with a hidden smirk, slowly rotating his chair back to face his computer. Everyone else followed his lead, because those people were sheep; and Jolt was their German Shepard.

As an obedient dog, Jolt turned off his computer and got up from his seat, picking up the stapler and wondering why he had one - there was little paper left in the entire building; most people used computers, tablets and holographic projection screens that became famous in NCIS. Saying goodbye to his cosy office, Microsoft's CTO made his way to the elevator, completely ignoring any of the clerks until he finally made it across the hall; then he pressed the call button two or three times, turned around and glared at a few of his subordinates before stepping into the elevator and going down to the garage. Same routine, every day. To Jolt, it was mental foreplay.

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[OOC] I'll let you guys post your introduction posts now. For those with important positions at their corporation that want to be recruited: open up a path for me to recruit you. Eris won't recruit someone loyal to his corporation, so you need to exhibit some dislike of your corporation or something.

Be creative, do what you want, we'll work with what we get. If you fuck up my plans I'll adapt, because I'm a gorram chameleon-alpaca.

[SSTxReaper]

"Next!" Marco said, as the customer came in front of his cashier and waited for Marco to scan the items. Marco saw the customer, a young kid buying the newest laptop. "Hey umm where's your parents at?" he asked the kid. "None of your business and im 14 by the way, so scan my shit so I can get home."

Marco bit his tongue from talking back and quickly scan his item. "Your total is 539 dollars with 96 cents..." The young teenager waved his hand, while Marco scanned it. He gave the young teenager his laptop and waved him goodbye. Marco looked at his watched and sighed. "Great only 5 more hours till my shift is over." Marco looked at his hand where all of his information was stored. He thought of articles he had research about the old days when people use money and credit cards. "I bet those people had a lot of fun...." he mutter under his breath.

MARCO!!!! Clean up on aisle 7, some little kid spilled soda all over the displays!!!" someone said. "Yes, Mr.Dell." Marco said in a dreadful tone. Mr.Dell is a guy in his mid forty's. He always wears a suit, with glasses and has long black hair, that is always tied up. Every now and then when you catch Mr. Dell smile you can see some of his teeth has been replace with gold teeth. He was always rude to his employees especially the new guys and never cared about anyone expect himself and his customers.

Marco got out of his cashier area and went into the janitors closet. "Where is that damn old fool at?" he thought to himself. Marco grabbed a mop and a bucket and went to aisle 7. Sure enough there was soda spilled all over the displays and on the floor. He moped the floor and then grabbed a wet rag and proceeded to clean the displays. When he finished Marco went to put up the cleaning stuff and went to talk to Mr. Dell.

"Hey Mr.Dell, why did you chose me to clean up, while you have other people that can do the job." Mr. Dell gave a chuckle and patted Marco on the head. He took him to an empty aisle where there was no one and he got into Marco's face. "Because you little brat I can, and you will do it. Understand?" Marco looked at Mr.Dell held his breath for a second or two and replied "I understand."

"Good because you have a job to do, now get back to your cashier and make me some money." Mr.Dell said trying to not yell. Marco quickly turned around and went to his cashier. He quickly looked at his watch and sigh again. Not even half an hour has went by yet and Marco looked at the line that was waiting for him. Sighing once more Marco gave a fake smile to the first customer and said "Welcome to Dell's hope you found everything you need." and went to scan the items.

[Len Hyet]

"Silver, Benjamin Silver." The man rolled the words on his tongue, feeling them in the air, tasting their very existence, and then dropping them to the ground like bomb shells. Bomb shells that were unwelcome in this office. It was an office, one that rocked side to side with the waves. Wood paneled walls, from Africa. A beautiful rug, from India. Two banzai trees, from a grower in the mountains of Japan. A matching desk and chair, both mahogany, from South America. A painting of Custer's last stand, from the United States, hung on the wall over the desk. A stained oak cabinet on the left of the room held rare and antique guns from every continent. A personal computer, made by Apple, with a Chinese firewall, was discretely built into the desk, and from the sides and rear looked like a simple pane of glass sunk into the desk.

Silver sat across from a fat, greasy man, who resembled a pig stuck into a suit more so than the CTA of Billiton-Woolworths, the reigning corporate merger in Australia. Said pig was the Chief Tactical Officer of Billiton-Woolworths, the man in charge of the use of PMCs, Private Military Companies, for the entirety of Australia. Inwardly, Silver was cursing. The man knew his name. That alone was worth nothing, hell it was printed on his business cards, but the tone with which he said them implied something more was to come. Before the man could say anything, Silver spoke.

"Mister Billiton-Woolworths, think about what you are about to say, very carefully. My men are loyal, armed to the teeth, and willing to kill for me. I order them to kill for money. So, who do you want taken out, when by, and how much are you willing to pay. I don't care why you want them dead, just answer my questions." The last bit of course, was a total lie. Silver was deeply interested in why one company would want another gone, or sabotaged, or stolen from. Usually it was obvious. A hostile takeover had taken on a new literalness, but was still something practiced constantly.

The Pig spoke. "I want you to work for me."

Silver arched an eyebrow. "Obviously, that is why I allowed you onto my ship."

"You misunderstand, I don't want you to work against a specific company, I want you to work a simpler job."

This was nothing new to the hardened Mercenary. Somebody always wanted their competition bumped off, or their boss taken out, hell sometimes he got a contract to kill a man's wife, because he was 'in love with another' and simply had to be with her.

"And who do you want dead?" One of Silver's mercenaries shifted behind him, eager at the thought of a job. There were two, one was a South African who's father remembered Nelson Mandela, before the companies took over, the other was a Russian who Silver had picked up during a job in the Middle East.

"James Silver." Benjamin sighed, it seemed once a year people thought that he could be paid enough money to kill one of his own men, usually a new recruit, as in the case of James. All his crewmen took the surname Silver. In this case the man had only just taken the name, but was a promising new recruit. The Pig continued.

"When he left Billiton-Woolworths he left a lot of angry people behind." Silver rubbed his brow.

"Let's go for a walk." He said, and exited his office, the Pig following behind, along with the South African and the Russian. They stood on the deck of Silver's ship. Silver continued talking.

"He is one of my men. Therefore, I cannot accept the job." The Pig shrugged.

"I'll get someone else."

"No." Silver said. "You wont." Unseen by the Pig, he raised a Heckler and Koch .45 Pistol, pressed it to the back of the Pig's head, and pulled the trigger, simultaneously kicking hard with his booted foot, shoving the corpse overboard with a spray of gore following suit. Silver turned and walked away from the rail.

"Change course." He instructed the two mercenaries by his side, as the retort of a .22 came from the other side of the ship, then again, signifying the death of the Pig's helicopter pilots. The helicopter itself would be repainted and sold for a tidy profit. The Mercenaries didn't like waste.

"We head to North America, I heard Ford has a contract out." Silver descended the steps into his office, as the ship slowly began to turn.

[Firstaria]

The room was dark and shady, worthy of the best conspiraton theories around, down in the secret levels of Turin, where the new ENI HQ had been founded after the acquisition of the Fiat. A female scientist and a male in an Italian business clothes were watching as the cylinder rose up, and released the man inside it.

The man rose up, a bit disturbed by the treatment, noticing his new suit with some strange power cores behind him, connected to his spinal cord, directly to his brain. He felt then a surge of power, and kneeled for a moment.
The man in suit looked at the scientist and said " Are you sure he's ready? " and she answered " Is one of our best agents, as you said, and he passed all the test with excellent results. Now all we have to do is wait and see if the suit will give us results. "

The man in the chamber, Daniel, rose up completely and blinked, and then looked at his hand...and rose one of them, creating a strange purple field of energy that made both the guys inside the observatory zone smiling. " It appears the prototype works. I'll send in the test subject number 2. "

Suddently, one of the door opened revealing a man in an heavy armor, a technological one, fully armed and defended. The guy looked like a colossus compared to Daniel, who was completely disarmed. The scientist pressed a button and communicated with the intern of the chamber. " Please, subject one, proceed to neutralize the threat. "

Before the colossus could shot down his opponent, Daniel took a profound breath in and send a wave of the purple energy to his enemy, making the wave completely overcome it. After some second of complete still, the suit of the second subject was immobile, while Daniel, keeping the flux of energy with his hand, moved forward.

" The analysis confirm that Daniel has took complete control of the energy cores of the subject two suit, and could at any moment deactivate them completely or even... " but the man in the suit stopped her and pressed the communication button to say " Do it. "

Daniel send a new wave of purple energy, and suddenly the colossus seemed to short circuit and overheat, and ended up exploding from the inside, killing the agent who was maneuvering it. The man smiled " That was one of the most modern soldier equipment around, considered almost invincible by 85% of the corporations that uses it...and 100% the best. And he took him out with his hand, just because it use energy, electrical one from the power cores. " He looked at the scientist and said " How much before the final version will be ready? "

The scientist looked at her boss and said " 8 months if we get full funding and all the resources required. However, I suggest we use the prototype in... "
The man cut her short " 6 months, you will have all you need. And if you though only for a second I'm not gonna give the prototype a little more...testing, then you are also a fool other than the most valuable asset of our company from now on. With this, we can truly said that ENI is the energy that moves the world...as anyone who will disagree will simply not have it at all."

[Zarkenis Ultima]

Somewhere in the United States of Wal-Mart, in a bustling city, (Somewhat ironically) inside a SuperTarget, was a young woman with long red hair, acting as a cashier, wearing her corporation's red and beige uniform not with pride, but not with disgust either, she was glad to have a job there, even if it wasn't the best. This woman, Alexandra Target, did her work, not merrily, but not frustratedly or resignedly either, it might not be the best job, but it got her money to live decently and it wasn't as bad as others.

Yet another customer came up to her cashier area, and she simply scanned all of the items dexterously, handing it to one of her colleagues who packed them all with equal if not superior dexterity while Alexandra herself checked the total value of the customer's purchase from the machine next to her. "That will be 395 dollars total, sir." She said, with a quiet but sweet and charismatic voice, smiling to the customer, not forcedly, but genuinely. Perhaps what she did was nothing fancy, but being positive was always a good thing, as was smiling, not to mention that you could say she had an insane resistance to frustration and stress. Regardless of that, however, the old man then allowed his hand to be scanned so that his IDD would transfer the appropiate ammount of funds to the store, and then picked up the items he purchased, leaving the place.

"Thank you sir, we hope you found everything you needed. Have a nice day." She said, still smiling, though her words were not as much of an overacting as those of her colleagues tended to be. The man's only response, however, was a disgruntled, unintelligible comment and a forceful nod. No matter, though, Alexandra was used to this by now, and she certainly wasn't going to let any of it get to her.

"You could save a bit of breath, you know. Don't you ever get tired of smiling?" The woman and colleague next to her commented in a joking manner, to which Alexandra simply chuckled and shook her head. One of the good thing about this work were her colleagues, and her superiors. Perhaps she didn't love her corporation or feel anything towards it, but the people she worked with were mostly nice, which was something she was glad about.

"Why should I get tired of doing a good thing?" She replied in the same manner, smiling at her colleague as well, before quickly turning to her next customer, and repeating the process all over again.

Eventually, though, her shift at the SuperTarget came to an end, and she attended the last few customers before leaving her cashier area. Not long afterwards, she walked out of the SuperTarget, no longer bearing the corporation's uniform, instead wearing a set of similar clothes, but more comfortable and with lighter colors in them, her shirt bearing an intrincate design composed by several butterflies of varying colors that created the outline of a greater one.

Having nothing else to do for the day, Alexandra spent quite a bit of time walking around the city, looking at a few specialized stores, or simply walking around idly to clear her mind and let it wander, tuning out the world and listening to the music in her mind, though she was by no means idle enough to be unable to see where she was going and move aside if she was about to bump into someone, or some such thing.

After a while of this, she decided to finally go home, and thus headed for the nearest expressway that would take her there. Upon arriving at it, she simply stood by as the expressway began to move, quite glad that it was, for some reason, not quite as tightly packed with human beings as it could be on busier days. She then simply stood there, waiting, until she noticed that she was at her stop, at which point she moved to one of the decelerator belts and waited a bit more, before finally heading away, and entering the apartment building, and subsequently the apartment that was her home.

Upon entering her home, her sanctuary, Alexandra kicked her shoes away and walked over to the couch with her feet bare, flopping down on it afterwards, and looked around the room, before sighing contentedly and looking at the ceiling before closing her eyes. To her, all things considered, it had been a good day.

[Gaveo]

Introduction: Part 1 out of 3

It was a cold Monday morning in the Suárez household and in Alexi's room was the alarm, about to blare off in, three, two, one. And there it goes going as loud as it can and Alexi complaining and saying "Uh... Come on..." funny thing is that tries to hit the snooze button but instead he hits random crap on his bedside table. "Finally" he says after hitting it, but his dad didn't care, in a thick Spanish accent he yells out, "ALEXI! TIME FOR SCHOOL!" Alexi annoyed and with a less strong Spanish accent replies, " I know dad!"

Oh life why are so, weird, complicated, sad... Alexi has experienced some crazy and sad stuff, such as the death of his mother, the rapid emontional decline of his father and even the break up of a couple of girlfriends. Yet, somehow he still kept on chugging, still moving.
Finally the sleepiness wares off and he thinks, "God I hate Mondays". He walks through the hall, toward the showers, he touches the the wall guiding himself though the darkness of the hallway... He hears his father shout, "¡Mi hijo! Tengo toda tu ropa lista." [My son! Your clothes are ready.] He replies with a tired voice, "Si papa, yo se..." [Yes dad, I know]. He walks for a bit more, and finally makes it to the bathroom, he takes his PJs off and walks to the shower... He turns the shower knob, "Ooh, its cold" He says to himself, he then thinks about Tuesday and how the tryouts for boxing are in his bag, another minute passes and another thought comes to mind, Maria. He wonders if he can get her... He laughs and thinks, maybe not.

He shouts out to his dad, "Hey!" Jose responds with a simple, "Yes?" Oddly enough he forgot his underwear and asks for it. His father, 6'1 walks down the hallway and tosses the underwear into the shower. He then proceeds to tell Alexi that he is going to prepare breakfast, you can here the man walk down the stairs... Alexi then goes to put his clothes on and looks in the mirror only to say, "Looking good." He then brushes his hair and teeth and says to himself, "Time for school" He walks down the stairs a testament to this house's age. He finally arrives to the dining table and is served two eggs and a couple of Bacon strips. "Here, two eggs and bacon your favorite." He then goes to reply in a soft, thank you. He starts eating devouring the food in a matter of 5 minutes. While he was filling him self up with food his father asks him about a girl named Maria. Alexi is shocked, he nearly spits out his OJ. He thinks "How did he know that?" He tries to lie and say who? But his father has none of it, he says, "I know you, you were "checking" her out." He then laughs. Alexi though embaressed blushes to a bright red. "No..." he says unbelivably. But before he can change his mind and say the truth he father yells out, "Son, you are going to miss the bus! Common go!" Alexi looks up at the clock, "Shit, you're right." And as soon as he says that he runs off to get his book bag and the hugs his father, "Ciao papa." He says, in which his father replies back, "Ciao mi hijo." After the embrace he runs off, to school and to Maria.

|End of Part 1|

[Legital]

The rain patted against the dark tinted windows of the black car, creating a constant drumming sound which resonated within the vehicle. The street was dark and lonely, and the night shrouded the vehicle well. Down the street, at a desolate three way intersection, a single street lamp flickered occasionally at random intervals. Rarely would a car pass the black vehicle, yet often a single vehicle passed the intersection briefly before disappearing behind the edge of the dark brick building.
Within the car, a small bluish white light came to life, barely seen from the outside due to the window tint. However, it was there, and occasionally flickered like the streetlamp.

Carl Government, FBI Investigator, thumbed through a newly received document with little interest on his tablet. It was forwarded to him from headquarters, which was forwarded to them from their employer corporation, Ford automotive. Apparently, as it would seem, Ford was accusing Chevrolet of infringing and stealing several of their engine and vehicle designs. This was the seventeenth time a vehicle company had accused another of the same thing this year. Its been happening more and more often lately, and Carl simply shook his head as he thumbed to the bottom of the paper. It was a waste of his time, and the FBI's time. Car companies were always at each others throats when it came to these things. Whether it was as complicated as aerodynamic design, to the damn color palette for a two door convertible, he had seen it all.
Sighing, he turned off the tablet and tossed it into the passenger seat of his vehicle. He reached for his warm coffee and took a generous gulp. The coffee was great, and he took another sip of the warm liquid. The car's heater was on, but he was still cold. And the rain still fell. To Carl, it was just another day.

His tablet lit up again, signifying a new message, and with reluctance, he reached for it. The new document sent to him was rather surprising. It was from headquarters, and it contained an 'Agent Only' reading label, with Carl's IDD number. Odd. Rarely were things like these sent, as they often contained strict orders. Such as corporate espionage or, on occasion, an assassination. Which was simply called 'Corporate Elimination'.
Entering his personal authentication code and the one he was randomly assigned, the document opened up for him. His eyes darted to the top of the tablet to see what the paper wanted from him, which he soon spotted as it came up in large red letters.

//Corporate Elimination//
Desideratum Individual: Chevrolet. J. Philips.
Reason: Theft of Ford documentation of axle designs.
Known location: Chevrolet sub-Headquarters, //address-encrypted//
Contract Employer: Ford Automotive
Reward upon completion: Corporate recognition, Ford vehicle of choice, credit of 25,000 USD.

Carl scoffed at the rewards. It always sickened him that the FBI still attached such a thing. The reward always went to the FBI, not him. Of course he may receive a few hundred dollars out of it and his name plastered on a medal in some Ford office, but that was it. The car went to whatever bigwig got their grubby hands on it first. Carl was simply the paid and legal killer. What would someone like him want with money and a nice car?
Tossing the tablet aside again, Carl drank more of his coffee. He had time to spare, so he'd just drive around town for a while. It was late anyway, so he'd probably head back to his hotel and grab some sleep.
Putting the black car in gear, Carl slowly pulled away from the curb and down the dark and rainy city street.

[Esternial]

Earlier that week

"Do you understand your assignments?"

The men inside the white, featureless room nodded. Each of them sat on black chairs that stood out in the completely white room, their appearance and clothing being incredibly diverse. It seemed their employer got these people from pretty much every conceivable place on Earth. One by one they approached the suited man calling the shots - or so they taught - accepting the tablet which contained a dossier on their mark. The device itself was issued by Apple Computers, which could be seen by its logo, but someone had thoroughly messed with its OS to keep anyone from snooping around on it.

The first new employee grabbed the tablet without even blinking, discreetly turning around and sitting down on his chair. Obediently he followed the tablet's instructions.

Place your hand on the touch screen. Appeared in big, friendly letters. The man grunted and did as he was told.

Zachiel. Registration complete, configuring IDD...

Zack raised his eyebrow. Configuring an IDD? Was that even possible? An uncomfortable feeling overcame him, which intensified when he read the next sentence.

Registered as Zachiel Dell.

Dell?! He wasn't a Dell employee! How was this even possible?! Before he could voice his outrage out loud, a document popped up on screen explaining about a certain injection they had prior to receiving the tablet. Zack never really taught about what was in that liquid, but now he knew - it was all written out in front of him. He swallowed his anxiety. His employers were in the possessing of ground-breaking technology, so crossing them would be a bad idea.

"Better get to work, then." He muttered to himself, leaving the white room and into the unknown.

---

"Welcome to Dell's hope you found everything you need."

Zachiel observed the young store clerk for a distance, having overheard the 'conversation' with his superior. He kind of felt bad for the kid, but he wasn't here to see some random guy selling computer accessories. One of Marco's co-workers on the other hand did seem to pique his employer's interest. The man was a brilliant programmer and used to work in Dell's R&D before he got sent here as a tech aid because the man disagreed with his employer. Naturally, he held a grudge against all what Dell stood for, but couldn't afford to quit - his boss had ruined his chance at being employed elsewhere by besmearing his reputation.

It was a logical choice to recruit him. Zack agreed.

Walking up to the counter, he looked at Marco and addressed him in a serious tone to indicate that he meant business and wasn't interested in the latest offers.
"I'm looking for Leslie Dell, he's a tech aid. Could you see if he's in?"

[SSTxReaper]

"Welcome to Dell's hope you found everything you need."

Zachiel observed the young store clerk for a distance, having overheard the 'conversation' with his superior. He kind of felt bad for the kid, but he wasn't here to see some random guy selling computer accessories. One of Marco's co-workers on the other hand did seem to pique his employer's interest. The man was a brilliant programmer and used to work in Dell's R&D before he got sent here as a tech aid because the man disagreed with his employer. Naturally, he held a grudge against all what Dell stood for, but couldn't afford to quit - his boss had ruined his chance at being employed elsewhere by besmearing his reputation.

It was a logical choice to recruit him. Zack agreed.

Walking up to the counter, he looked at Marco and addressed him in a serious tone to indicate that he meant business and wasn't interested in the latest offers.
"I'm looking for Leslie Dell, he's a tech aid. Could you see if he's in?"

Marco stared at the guy standing in front of him. He didn't have any items that he wanted to buy, but asked for one of his co-workers. "Umm I don't know." Marco said while turning his head around to find the employee. "Go ask Mr. Dell... So if you can move away from the line so I can get back to work before I get fucked again..... NEXT!!!" Marco yelled.

[Lenciland]

"Ahhhh.Crap," the stylishly suited executive said as he read from a hologram out of his desk that stated that he would have to downsize a subsidiary again. As much as he hated the idea of ruini g a man's handwork it had to be done to keep control between him and the CEO of Toyota. "Li, will you get me a cup of green tea please?"the man asked. "Yes Akio-San,"his secretary said as she walked out the door of his spacious office. He guessed he didn't have much to be ungrateful about his job was great, he had 2 entire floors on the top of his skyscraper in Tokyo to live in, he had his collections even a sacred sword of the emperor, and his family was lover him but most of all his mother who had believed in him even when his father said that he should give up his dreams and become something more stable.

"Akio-San, your tea," his secretary said as she presented him with a cup of the finest greent ea in the world. One of the small things that made being rich great."Li will you please arrange dinner at a good restraunt for me. I believe I will be in the zen garden or the collection room."Akio said as he walked to his collection room. The room truly was magnificent in all ways it was also his trophy room.The room was filled with shelves and display cases so e filled with valuable artifacts others filled with memories of his childhood suchas his first lecture on the complexity of the tv which at four he read at pre-school for show and tell. "Akio-San a visitor is here to speak with you,"Li said worriedly,"she said it was urgent.

"Greetings ma'am, I was told it was urgent," Akio said. "Sir I have reason to believe that the is an organization that plans to crack down on corruption. We have heard it in a number of cellphone calls but never thought anything of it until now."

OOC: Thanksgiving got to go

[Esternial]

Marco stared at the guy standing in front of him. He didn't have any items that he wanted to buy, but asked for one of his co-workers. "Umm I don't know." Marco said while turning his head around to find the employee. "Go ask Mr. Dell... So if you can move away from the line so I can get back to work before I get fucked again..... NEXT!!!" Marco yelled.

"Nevermind that." Zack said as he looked behind Marco, recognizing Leslie from his dossier. Grabbing his tablet from the black leather bag he was carrying with him, he approached the man and completely ignored Marco.

"Leslie, I have an offer for you concerning your...relationship with Dell." He said in a low voice, his eyes briefly turning towards Marco's back.

"Meet me in the café across the street after your shift."

Leslie nodded without saying a word, his heart-rate suddenly going through the roof as he became anxious, afraid that his boss would find him. This of course alerted his boss, because the IDD measured a someone's vitals and some other factors as soon as they signed in for work.

"What's going on here, Leslie?" The man spoke in an elevated, almost threatening tone as he approached the two men. Zack smirked and pushed Leslie in the chest, forcing him to take a few steps back so that he wouldn't fall down. After he explaining that Leslie did a poor repair job and he was giving him a lecture about it, Zack left the shop with anger written across his face. He was a good actor.

Of course he completely forgot that Marco had witnessed all of this.

[Great Siam]

Shell, Inc. Operational Force Headquarters, Amsterdam, Netherlands.
The Shell OPFOR HQ did not look like the headquarters of the European Continent's principal operating force; the sleek lines of the office building did not suggest the existence of a large organisational headquarters for a large paramilitary organisation charged with the protection of the assets of that force.

And yet, it was so; behind a tall, electrified fence, past the rows of checkpoints, into the sleek, steel-and-glass building which proudly displayed the yellow-and-red logo of RDS-Rheinmetall, the world's single largest corporation, thousands gathered to organise and deploy what had to be one of the world's most powerful military forces.

Forty floors up, in what looked like a typical upper-management office, one with glass walls and a commanding view of the Randstad, Anitra Shell-Union gazed out across the buildings' surroundings, speaking into the tiny headset plugged into her ear.

"Central, there's fifty of them around the compound. Orders?"

Double-tapping the window, Anitra gazed harshly through the eyes of the UAV hovering over the oil refining compound in North Ossetia, Russia. She spoke into the headset;

"Clear them out with prejudice."

"Copy that, Central."

She watched the black, highlighted figures of the camouflaged soldiers move into positions across the compound. The fifty or so armed rebels- recruited by a local warlord, no doubt -were scattered about the refining compound, having neutralised the single on-duty security guard of the automated compound with ease.

That had been three hours ago. Now, with the thundering of assault weapons, she watched with grim satisfaction as the rebels were slaughtered by the forces securing the area. Occasionally, she singled out one of the soldiers; giving them information and direction as to where their targets were located, co-ordinating their movement with the UAVs.

A tense five minutes passed, full of gunshots and brief engagements between the numerous rebels and the far better-armed paramilitaries. The ornate clock on Anitra's otherwise modern metal desk ticked by the seconds.

The last armed rebel fell to the floor before Anitra's very eyes, as she observed one of the soldiers through his helmet-camera, watching as he gouged a knife into the rebel's neck. Eventually, the commander of the unit spoke again.

"Central, area is clear."

She smiled bitterly.

"Good work, Gamma-seven. Clear out, we'll clean up the mess."

"Copy that, Central."

She sighed softly, taking out the headset and checking the digital watch on her wrist. 7:50. With a curse under her breath, she turned off the computer with a quick hand gesture, tugging on her coat as she rushed out of the office. As she left, the office itself registered her departure; it was noted, a small balance added to her to-be-paid account.

Rounded down, of course.

[SSTxReaper]

"Nevermind that." Zack said as he looked behind Marco, recognizing Leslie from his dossier. Grabbing his tablet from the black leather bag he was carrying with him, he approached the man and completely ignored Marco.

"Leslie, I have an offer for you concerning your...relationship with Dell." He said in a low voice, his eyes briefly turning towards Marco's back.

"Meet me in the café across the street after your shift."

Leslie nodded without saying a word, his heart-rate suddenly going through the roof as he became anxious, afraid that his boss would find him. This of course alerted his boss, because the IDD measured a someone's vitals and some other factors as soon as they signed in for work.

"What's going on here, Leslie?" The man spoke in an elevated, almost threatening tone as he approached the two men. Zack smirked and pushed Leslie in the chest, forcing him to take a few steps back so that he wouldn't fall down. After he explaining that Leslie did a poor repair job and he was giving him a lecture about it, Zack left the shop with anger written across his face. He was a good actor.

Of course he completely forgot that Marco had witnessed all of this.

The strange man left Marco to talk to his co-worker Leslie. Of course Marco couldn't help to pay attention to what they were talking about. All he heard was cafe across the street. Marco looked at his watch and notice only and hour left to go before his shift was over with. He got out of his work area and went to check on when Leslie shift would be over. "Hmm a half hour later huh?" Marco quickly went back to his work area and thought about some sort of plan to go to the cafe without being to suspicious.

Seeing that he had an half hour before Leslie was done, Marco decided that he would go into the cafe, order something to eat and sit somewhere in a corner and mind his own business until Leslie got there.

[Legital]

The rain still fell harshly, and Carl drove his vehicle through the dirty streets to his hotel. Some form of electro music played quietly over the radio, and it seemed oddly fitting to the world around him. Despite the grim environment, neon signs flashed advertisements for alcohol and scantly clad women, and holo-signs displayed advertisements for the newest products of today. In the night rain, Carl noticed there were actually some people on the streets, most huddled under lips and awnings for protection against the rain. Many appeared to be unsavory individuals of varying occupations, however on this side of town many of the women appeared to be prostitutes.
Carl glanced at the digital clock above the radio, and noticed it was seven minutes past one in the morning. Typical, he often worked late. Hell, he even preferred the night over the day. Something about the night just made him fell good. Safe, even.

Getting closer to some of the nicer parts of the city, traffic began to increase slightly, with several cars passing by every few minutes. Neon signs became bigger, along with advertisements on larger holographic billboards. Out of the slums and into the heart, Carl thought. He came to a stoplight, and he leaned back in his seat as he waited for the light to change. Glancing to his left, he noticed a well lit bank, with some people in the lobby. Leaning towards the window to glance upwards, he noticed the building was at least thirty or so stories high. He sighed. He always hated banks ever since investigating several cases of embezzlement, and nothing on the small scale range either. Large scale theft from individuals and corporations. Sickening, really. The corporations had the cash to spare, yet it was still theft, but it was the individuals that really fired Carl up. Stealing from everyday people. Despicable.

After a few moments, the light changed and Carl continued on down the road. More banks, small shops, and sub-corporate headquarters. Eventually, his hotel came into view, its neon sign flashing in the rain. However, as he pulled into the rather desolate parking lot, he noticed several odd things. First of all, there were three black cars, similar to Carl's but not used by the FBI, parked in different spots of the parking lot. All three were parked in a way to look inconspicuous. Secondly, there were two black vans as well, both parked in the side alley. The hotel lobby was all glass, and Carl noticed that the clerk at the front desk seemed rather alert and agitated. Just an hour ago, none of these vehicles were here, and the clerk barely noticed Carl entering the lobby to grab a snack from the vending machines. Something was indeed wrong.

Carl pulled into a parking space closest to the exit and watched the area. He searched the second open floor balcony to find his room, and he soon spotted it. That, or a room off. But both of the windows had the curtains open. When Carl left, he left his curtains closed. Oh yeah, something was wrong.
Reaching into his black coat, Carl pulled out his handgun and the lights along the top of the grip turned green. It was coded to work only with his thumbprint, or whoever had theirs in the FBI data chip installed into the handgun. Either way, his weapon was loaded and ready. Carl set it down on the passenger seat, and then turned his attention back to the hotel. Nothing else was out of the ordinary, really. Whoever these people were, Carl did not know, but he knew what they wanted. Him dead. It was not a surprising thing since it became increasingly common these days. The FBI were the legal killers and investigators of the country. So it made sense there were other less legal organizations and private corporation armies to hunt down the FBI agents, or whoever the corporation wanted gone.
And as corporate espionage went, there were moles and spies within the FBI, gathering information about agents and the such. If Carl guessed, these fellows were from Chevrolet. Too bad for these bastards, Carl was a tough son-of-a-bitch and he planned on killing that sub-manager. Putting his car back in gear, he pulled out of the hotel lot and onto the street. Typing in the address to his destination into his GPS system, Carl kept an eye on his rear view mirror. And sure enough, two black cars and a van pulled out of the hotel and onto the street. Carl could not help but smile wryly. These guys became more and more predictable as the days passed.

[Esternial]

The strange man left Marco to talk to his co-worker Leslie. Of course Marco couldn't help to pay attention to what they were talking about. All he heard was cafe across the street. Marco looked at his watch and notice only and hour left to go before his shift was over with. He got out of his work area and went to check on when Leslie shift would be over. "Hmm a half hour later huh?" Marco quickly went back to his work area and thought about some sort of plan to go to the cafe without being to suspicious.

Seeing that he had an half hour before Leslie was done, Marco decided that he would go into the cafe, order something to eat and sit somewhere in a corner and mind his own business until Leslie got there.

Thirty minutes later, Leslie arrived on cue. Tightly clutching the handle on his briefcase, which contained nothing more than his tablet and some tools for hardware maintenance, he walked in and walked up to the bar. The entire establishment had a nostalgic feel to it, unlike all those 'frozen yoghurt' and 'internet cafés' out there these days that pretty much dominated over the good old bar. This place managed to compensate for the lack of free wifi by partially turning into a restaurant - known for some of the best waffles in the city, which definitely helped. The wall was littered with memorabilia from the past: pictures of movie stars, authors or automobiles from some Expo way back. There was a guitar here and a sword there to change the trend, which definitely gave the entire place an authentic feel of a retro café, slash restaurant.

The bartender nodded towards Leslie, recognising the man from the picture one of his patrons showed him before. Leslie was a bit surprised, but walked up to the bar and listened to what the bartender had to say.

"Someone asked me to send you upstairs, to the VIP room."

Leslie thanked the bartender and went upstairs. A man suddenly stood up from his seat, forgetting his tablet on his table as he dashed behind him. It was Zack. As he ascended the stairs, he could hear Leslie's trembling voice.

"I didn't! I s-s-swear!"

"I knew you were going to betray us, Leslie. What were you going to give them? Share some of our corporate secrets, huh?" An angry voice retorted, followed by a soft whimper coming from Leslie and a brief and abrupt clicking sound.

"I'm afraid this is the end of the line for you, Leslie..." The voice continued.

A muffled scream, followed by two soft plopping sounds came from the room. A loud thud and fading footsteps. When all the sounds had vanished from the chamber, Zachiel overcame his fear and entered, stumbling onto Leslie's body alongside a bloodstained pillow. A pool of blood was slowly spreading across the hardwood floor, seeping into it and infusing it with its crimson colour tone. It should be noted that the owner of this establishment will probably have to put a rug on the floor from now on.

The Leslie realized something. He was seen running upstairs behind Leslie...who was currently lying in a small pond of his own blood. Somewhat in a hurry he came back downstairs and left through the front door, hoping it would take awhile before anyone found the body. The tablet didn't even cross his mind.

Mind you, the tablet was still locked, but it was only a matter of time before someone found it and managed to open it.

On it was the dossier about Leslie and an IDD-integrated contract. The latter was basically a circle where a person had to place his or her hand in to sign, after which the details on their IDD were registered, processed and distributed through specified algorithms. In this case, it would take care of ordering online tickets to one of Eris' safehouses, although Eris itself wasn't mentioned anywhere. Also, whomever signed the contract would also store their fingerprints and render the previous lock void, making the device only accessible to the newly registered owner.

[SSTxReaper]

Marco sipped his coffee when Leslie finally came in through the door. He talk to the bartender and went upstairs. As soon as he went upstairs Marco saw the guy from earlier get up and follow Leslie.

Few minutes later the guy came downstairs running out of the cafe. Marco stood up and notice he left his tablet on the table. Marco looked around to make sure no one was looking at him and he grabbed it hiding it between his jacket. He walked out of the cafe, into his car and drove home.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

Now in her apartment, Alexandra stood up and walked over to her window, opening it and then simply going out and sitting on the windowsill, with the sill's border meeting the inner angle of her knees, which hugged it closely. She simply sat there with a smile gracing her face and looked down at the streets, and the people going around on them, who every now and then looked up to see the lovely red-headed woman sitting on a window. Whenever she spotted one of them looking her way, she waved at them, still smiling, and sometimes they even waved back. Alexandra knew it meant nothing more than simple courtesy or friendliness in most cases, but she didn't seem to mind this at all.

Most days, she spent part of her evenings this way, as it was a healthy habit, and she was only on the second floor of the building anyway, she could probably take the fall if it came to that. Probably. Alexandra had no television, instead having a small collection of books on a shelf in her room as well as a music player for entertainment and reading the newspapers and talking to her colleagues for the news. Hers was a simple existence, and she liked it that way, which explained her habit of sitting on the window during the evening. Once, one of her friends had commented that she was an anachronism, to which she simply laughed. Her simple life did not mean that she was an inept with technology, no; she knew her way around most devices as a result of the reluctance to depend on a technician coupled with her natural curiosity, and, in fact, she kept a tablet that she used with certain regularity. She simply had a preference for simple things. Her books, for example, stimulated her imagination more than a simple TV show would, which she enjoyed. Not to mention, all that unspent energy did wonders for her electricity bills, which was one of the reasons she could get by just fine with her current salary.

Either way, Alexandra's attention diverted from the streets before her to the window of the apartment below her own as she heard a noise coming from inside. Her neighbor was probably onto another of his shenanigans again. She thought of him briefly. Handsome, single young man, a bit clumsy, which she found cute. Her mind wandered back to the last time she had flirted with him. That was a fun time. Two days had passed since then. Regardless, her mind soon refocused on reality when she noticed that there was a voice different from her neighbor's. They seemed to be talking about something important, which piqued her interest, so Alexandra leaned forward a bit so she could better hear what they were talking about.

"What's this about Eris International?" She thought to herself. Interested in the topic, she leaned forward another bit... And a bit more... And that's when she almost fell all the way to the ground. Only almost because, in a feat of agility and quick acting, she turned around in mid-air and grabbed the windowsill, managing to not fall down. She sighed in relief, but soon noticed the second of her problems: The people in the apartment below were now looking at her. Thinking quickly, Alexandra decided that playing dumb was probably for the best right now, just in case that whatever they were talking about was supposed to be secret.

Thus, as a part of her act, making use of her agility she pounced through the window (Which should be noted was open) onto her neighbor, ending up with her hands over his chest and her knees to his sides, her long red locks of hair caressing his face. "I'm not sorry about that." She said in an enticing voice, while caressing his cheek with one of her hands, her smile having changed to match her apparent intention. This went on for a few moments, before she looked up. As soon as her eyes met the visitor's, she feigned surprise and embarassment. "Oh! I'm so sorry, I had no idea you had visits! Sorry, sorry, I should probably leave now." She said, quickly getting off of him, acting as befit an ashamed person, and then headed for the door, loudly shouting cries of victory in her mind.

[Firstaria]

Sinai, HQ of a mercenary base

With the widespread control of companies, middle east had become filled with places like this one, people who armed themselves and decided to work for the best offer in order to attack or sabotage other proprieties. To be fair, nobody liked them, but since most of their bases were conglomerate of multiple cells heavily armed and defended with all sort of technological alarms, no one had dared attack them, since it would have required magic or invisibility to thermal, infrared and so many types of alarm that it would be just impossible to not warn the entire complex and raise 200 elite warriors ready to fight. They also tend to take position way underground, so nuking or long range weaponry would be useless against them.

But what was happening that day was the result of science, superior to every magic you would ever seen.

Usually if a cable is cut or if the current interrupted, the alarm will still sound; but who could have guessed that a man could create a whole new circuit to make the alarm shut up as suddenly several zones of the base lacked current? The ENI agents eliminated most of the patrols in the corridor with quick actions, and the ones of two that tried to push the alarms button found themselves hearing no sound except the one of their death. Those who were sleeping were killed with gas, to avoid any possible reaction in case of an incredible bullet miss.

When the entire complex was almost cleaned up, the agents decided to go cocky.

---

(The entire speech is in Egyptian)

" Huh? " Said the guard looking at the monitor. He called his friend and the chief of security, the three looking at the map together and the signal of power loss in the sector 2. " Patrol 2, this is Nest, please report. " the chief said taking the radio.

But before he could get an answer, sector after sector the base started to shut down slowly, closing on a single room...their room. They tried to push all the alarm buttons but it seemed that at the loud warning no one was answering. Then the door suddenly opened, which it was strange, being an electronic lock programmed to shut down the reinforced door in case of damage or alarm. The Agents entered and the guards tried to respond, but a strange purple energy was the first thing blasting in, making all the monitor explode at contact and slamming them on the ground. The last thing the chief of security saw was one of the strangest armor he ever saw, and what he would swear to Allah it was indeed magic.

---

" Today " One of the representatives of ENI in Egypt talked to the camera of the press " Our security forces managed to dismantle one of the many terrorist forces who tried for a long time to disturb our peace and operations in the Sinai, by taking control of their own base. "

At this, many questions ensued, as anyone knew what the hell he was talking about, and everyone wanted to ask how this was possible.

" It was indeed a trivial matter, something that only required to pinpoint the exact location of the terrorist before attack, as differently many other companies claim instead that their bases goes out of their possibilities of action. Those who will invest in our company and will endorse our operation can now be sure that no criminal can escape our security forces, and soon more of these installations will be located and dismantled, unless the criminal will brought themselves to justice. This is a promise only ENI can do you, without a single loss of human life. " He concluded, smiling. And this was only the prototype.

[Legital]

The clock ticked on, and it was nearing two in the morning. Carl, however, was unfazed. He was not sleepy, thanks to the coffee, and he had several PMC vehicles following him. If that did not keep a man alert, then he did not know what would. The rain finally began to wither, becoming a light drizzle, and Carl kept his car moving through the light traffic. As soon as he became more reckless with his maneuvers, he noticed the cars following him did so as well. If he kept to the main street, they would not try anything too violent besides trying to apprehend him. Well, according to his GPS, he had to take some side streets. Let's see how far these bastards are willing to follow.... Carl thought to himself as he quickly turned his car off the main road and into a dark alley. Fortunately, there was nothing blocking the alley way apart from a few small tin trashcans.
And as Carl pulled out of the other end of the alleyway, the two black cars followed in, but the van kept going. Either they were going to cut him off or they did not think they could fit. Accelerating his car to a little above the speed limit, he followed his GPS down a few roads and some detours to throw off his pursuers. They were still on him, but much father away. So as the old saying went, why not quite while your ahead?

Carl did exactly that. He pulled his car into a small alley, and grabbed his things, including the GPS. The car was not his, so it did not mind him deserting it. And it would also still probably be here when he came back. Pushing his door open, Carl stepped out into the light rain and fixed the collar on his black coat so it would stick up and protect his neck from the cold. It was cold out, but not cold enough to see his breath or turn the rain into anything but. Glancing at his GPS, he noticed he had several blocks to go. He was meaning to exercise, so why not start now?

---

The pursuers were off Carl, or at least he believed so. They were either watching his car, or got lost. The third option was that they were already with his target and covering him, however that was unlikely. But he kept up his light jog as the building came into sight. He was not going to slow down or get caught now this close to his goal.
And thankfully, as he reached the door to the well lit glass building, no one was following him. He could not help but grin, those PMC guys could never keep up. No with him, or any other agent. They were essentially the real movie bad guys, the worthless chumps.

Stuffing his grin away as he entered the lobby, Carl fixed his collar and straightened out his black jacket. He was not quite sure how he was going to get past the lobby attendant, but he had a small idea. He walked into a small lounge area, where a man in a suit snored away. On the coffee table, was a suitcase. Taking a look around, Carl quietly grabbed the mans suitcase and walked down the hallway and towards the lobby desk around the corner, which was decorated with flashy mood lights, plants, and holo ads all over the place.

The woman at the desk was young, much younger than Carl expected someone of her age working here. However that was not the matter at hand. Throwing on a quick facade, he sped walked up to the counter. "Ma'am! Ma'am! Do you know if Mister executive Chevrolet Philips is still in? It's urgent." He asked urgently, however he already knew the answer. Men of his stature worked very late. Also, buildings like these housed small penthouses. It was not far fetched to believe the man lived and worked here. If so, Philips would have a friendly house visit.
The young woman looked up at Carl, startled that he seemingly came from no where. She then typed something on her computer and looked back up at him. "He is in...but he has no appointments. Name?" She said, sounding somewhat unsure about Carl. Did she know who he was or who he may be? Likely not, as typically the target never knew they were a target, or the people around them to not complicate things. "I'm Mister Pierce Chevrolet, task manager from Michigan? I was here just yesterday, and I need to see Mister Philips immediately." Carl explained. The girl glanced back at her computer, typing away and no doubt searching for Carls name.
"I see you here...but the last time you were here was several years ago...." She said, again looking unsure of the situation. Carl simply played along. "Thats obviously a glitch in the system! Its preposterous! I need to see him now. Do I need to call a sector manager for this?" Carl said angrily, pulling out his cell phone from his coat pocket. He began to dial away, at random numbers of course, and went to put it up to his ear when the woman quickly told him not to. "No! No, its quite alright. He is in his office on floor thrity-two. Please, enjoy your stay mister Pierce." She said, forcing a pleasant smile. Carl simply tucked the phone back in his pocket and mumbled angrily as he walked away towards one of the elevators.
As he stepped inside, he thought he noticed two black cars pull into the lot outside as the elevator doors closed....

[Esternial]

Now in her apartment, Alexandra stood up and walked over to her window, opening it and then simply going out and sitting on the windowsill, with the sill's border meeting the inner angle of her knees, which hugged it closely. She simply sat there with a smile gracing her face and looked down at the streets, and the people going around on them, who every now and then looked up to see the lovely red-headed woman sitting on a window. Whenever she spotted one of them looking her way, she waved at them, still smiling, and sometimes they even waved back. Alexandra knew it meant nothing more than simple courtesy or friendliness in most cases, but she didn't seem to mind this at all.

Most days, she spent part of her evenings this way, as it was a healthy habit, and she was only on the second floor of the building anyway, she could probably take the fall if it came to that. Probably. Alexandra had no television, instead having a small collection of books on a shelf in her room as well as a music player for entertainment and reading the newspapers and talking to her colleagues for the news. Hers was a simple existence, and she liked it that way, which explained her habit of sitting on the window during the evening. Once, one of her friends had commented that she was an anachronism, to which she simply laughed. Her simple life did not mean that she was an inept with technology, no; she knew her way around most devices as a result of the reluctance to depend on a technician coupled with her natural curiosity, and, in fact, she kept a tablet that she used with certain regularity. She simply had a preference for simple things. Her books, for example, stimulated her imagination more than a simple TV show would, which she enjoyed. Not to mention, all that unspent energy did wonders for her electricity bills, which was one of the reasons she could get by just fine with her current salary.

Either way, Alexandra's attention diverted from the streets before her to the window of the apartment below her own as she heard a noise coming from inside. Her neighbor was probably onto another of his shenanigans again. She thought of him briefly. Handsome, single young man, a bit clumsy, which she found cute. Her mind wandered back to the last time she had flirted with him. That was a fun time. Two days had passed since then. Regardless, her mind soon refocused on reality when she noticed that there was a voice different from her neighbor's. They seemed to be talking about something important, which piqued her interest, so Alexandra leaned forward a bit so she could better hear what they were talking about.

"What's this about Eris International?" She thought to herself. Interested in the topic, she leaned forward another bit... And a bit more... And that's when she almost fell all the way to the ground. Only almost because, in a feat of agility and quick acting, she turned around in mid-air and grabbed the windowsill, managing to not fall down. She sighed in relief, but soon noticed the second of her problems: The people in the apartment below were now looking at her. Thinking quickly, Alexandra decided that playing dumb was probably for the best right now, just in case that whatever they were talking about was supposed to be secret.

Thus, as a part of her act, making use of her agility she pounced through the window (Which should be noted was open) onto her neighbor, ending up with her hands over his chest and her knees to his sides, her long red locks of hair caressing his face. "I'm not sorry about that." She said in an enticing voice, while caressing his cheek with one of her hands, her smile having changed to match her apparent intention. This went on for a few moments, before she looked up. As soon as her eyes met the visitor's, she feigned surprise and embarassment. "Oh! I'm so sorry, I had no idea you had visits! Sorry, sorry, I should probably leave now." She said, quickly getting off of him, acting as befit an ashamed person, and then headed for the door, loudly shouting cries of victory in her mind.

Alexandra's neigbour, Mike, was more than just a little surprised after Alexandra jumped him and ran off in less than a minute. He looked awkwardly at his visitor and shrugged.

"She's always been a little weird." He explained, getting back onto his feet and trying to grasp what had just occurred. Some part of his was completely and thoroughly confused while another was somewhat aroused after having been jumped by a woman, as something like that occurred very rarely, if it did at all outside those cheesy romance flicks - he meant porn.

The recruiter, who was equally startled as his mark - if not more - insisted that this woman had to be brought with them to prevent her from leaking any information. Judging from his appearance, Mike figured he wasn't the person who'd try to persuade someone. He had played those Hitman games, and if anyone fit the description this guy definitely did. Even though Mike didn't really know his upstairs neighbour, he didn't want this stranger he had only just met by the first letter of his name to knock her out cold and forcibly take her somewhere. Before D could leave his apartment, Mike jumped in front of him and demanded that he talk to her first. D reluctantly agreed and returned the chloroform to his inside jacket pocket, grumbling softly.

Thus Mike went upstairs, knocking on the redhead's door and silently hoping she'd jump him again. At the same time he was kind of worried about D; he seemed kind of socially awkward.

As a matter of fact he was, and not in a way that you'd feel like pitying him. He was more of a social psychopath and probably a potential serial killer if he hadn't fallen on his forehead when he was three. Now he just made a good hitman - which is probably why his appearance fit the title. This man was all alone in Mike's apartment.

*clang*

"Guess it wasn't fake after all" D whispered to himself, pushing away one of the shards that was once part of Mike's family heirloom Ming Vase before it decided to take a path towards some more entropy, with some assistance from D.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

As soon as she stepped out of her neighbor's apartment, Alexandra quickly hurried upstairs, looking over her shoulder now and then to see if someone was behind her, although, much to her relief, nobody was, and she reached her own apartment without incident. Once there, she stepped inside and locked the door, and then walked over to her couch, flopping down on it and sighing with relief that nothing had gone wrong down there.

"That went well." She thought to herself, unaware of what was currently happening downstairs, still believing that nothing bad came out of the incident and that she was safe. However, from that thought, her mind quickly drifted away and she began wondering what Mike thought of all that happened down there, with a smile gracing her face. And then, she started wondering what was Eris International and how Mike was involved with them.

It was amidst these thoughts that she heard a knock on her door and fear entered her mind once again. Perhaps things had not gone as well as she thought, and that certainly wasn't a pleasant possibility. Careful not to make any noise, in hopes that they perhaps thought she had fled elsewhere, she walked over to the door and looked through the one-way spyhole installed on it. Her heart was beating fast, but it slowed down a little upon finding that the only person standing outside her door was Mike. Tentatively, she opened the door and took a quick peek outside, seeing that there was nobody else in the hallway. She then dragged Mike inside and closed and locked the door, before letting out a sigh of relief.

Looking at Mike, she spoke to him. "Sorry about the incident upstairs." She said, giving him an awkward smile. "What's up?" She asked, wondering why he had come. She was also still curious about Eris International and thought of asking him, but that was probably better left for later.

[Esternial]

As soon as she stepped out of her neighbor's apartment, Alexandra quickly hurried upstairs, looking over her shoulder now and then to see if someone was behind her, although, much to her relief, nobody was, and she reached her own apartment without incident. Once there, she stepped inside and locked the door, and then walked over to her couch, flopping down on it and sighing with relief that nothing had gone wrong down there.

"That went well." She thought to herself, unaware of what was currently happening downstairs, still believing that nothing bad came out of the incident and that she was safe. However, from that thought, her mind quickly drifted away and she began wondering what Mike thought of all that happened down there, with a smile gracing her face. And then, she started wondering what was Eris International and how Mike was involved with them.

It was amidst these thoughts that she heard a knock on her door and fear entered her mind once again. Perhaps things had not gone as well as she thought, and that certainly wasn't a pleasant possibility. Careful not to make any noise, in hopes that they perhaps thought she had fled elsewhere, she walked over to the door and looked through the one-way spyhole installed on it. Her heart was beating fast, but it slowed down a little upon finding that the only person standing outside her door was Mike. Tentatively, she opened the door and took a quick peek outside, seeing that there was nobody else in the hallway. She then dragged Mike inside and closed and locked the door, before letting out a sigh of relief.

Looking at Mike, she spoke to him. "Sorry about the incident upstairs." She said, giving him an awkward smile. "What's up?" She asked, wondering why he had come. She was also still curious about Eris International and thought of asking him, but that was probably better left for later.

This was a very delicate situation. Since he didn't know what Alexandra had or hadn't heard, he couldn't assume she knew of anything he was discussing before she barged in through the window; so Mike had to play his cards right.

Sadly, Mike sucked at poker, or any card game for that matter. Plus being dragged inside a woman's apartment like that would have done anything to a regular man's heartbeat.

"So...did you catch anything of what we were talking about, Alexandra?" He inquired with the subtlety of an elephant in a shop full of Ming Vases, or D downstairs, who had just finished breaking yet another family heirloom.

The he added a compliment about her apartment, hoping it would add some grease to his rusty social skills and the entire conversation.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

Upon letting Mike in, Alexandra went to sit on the arm of her couch. She then simply stared at him as he formulated his question and complimented her apartment. At that last bit, she simply smiled again.

"Thank you! I know it's not much, but I love it here." She said to him, and then shook her head before actually moving on to answer his question. "As for what you were talking about... Ah, something about Greek mythology, is it?" She said, feigning ignorance. She could have just said that she didn't hear what they were talking about, but frankly, that in itself was suspicious, and she doubted Mike would believe her, so instead she opted to say something that gave the impression that she had heard an insignificant part of the conversation, not enough to be dangerous or anything, even though she had actually heard a lot more.

[Len Hyet]

One of Silver's men walked into his office, a piece of paper clutched in his hand. He placed it on Silver's desk, then stepped off to the side, standing next to the cabinet of expensive and rare guns from around the world. Benjamin spoke into his phone.

"I'll have to call you back. Something just came up. But in short, no, I'm afraid I don't know what happened to your emissary. His helicopter never made it to my ship."

Done spinning a tale of woe and lies to Billiton-Woolworths, Silver picked up the piece of paper and scanned it, picking out key words and mentally calculating how much something like this could be worth.

Dear Mister Silver

This note is from a powerful but as of yet little known corporation. We want you to do business with us. You are the best and what you do, and we only hire the best. Come to Mexico City. We will contact you there. For your troubles, fifty thousand dollars have been wired to your account.

Think on it.

Benjamin placed the letter to the side, and tapped rapidly on the computer built into his desk. He accessed one of his international accounts, the same as before. He accessed a second, still no change. The third account he opened however, showed a recent deposit of fifty thousand dollars. He nodded slowly to himself, before looking out the bulletproof glass that was his window. The coast of Mexico was passing by. He pressed a button for the intercom, which connected him to the bridge.

"Bridge, bring us into port, and fuel up our new helicopter. I assume it has been resprayed with the company logo?"
"Of course sir. The pilot is heading there already."

Silver stood, and waved his two bodyguards forward with him. He looked at the man who had brought him the note.

"Tell the men we have received an anonymous contract. I'm going to Mexico city, I'll be staying at my usual hotel. If you haven't heard from me, and me alone, in three hours, call in the cavalry."

The Mercenary nodded and saluted, racing to the crew's common quarters. Silver's two men followed him to the Helicopter. One was the best shot in the crew, the other was the resident hand to hand combat expert, an Israeli who was a master of twelve different martial arts, including Muy Tai and Krav Maga. They entered the Helicopter, which lifted off as soon as the doors had closed, the Silver Eagle on the side of the helicopter leaving no doubt that this was official property of the most vaunted Mercenary company in the world.

Half an hour later the Helicopter touched down on top of the Ritz Carlton of Mexico City, and Silver was almost immediately set up in a suite, along with his two men and helicopter pilots. There he waited.

[Esternial]

" Today " One of the representatives of ENI in Egypt talked to the camera of the press " Our security forces managed to dismantle one of the many terrorist forces who tried for a long time to disturb our peace and operations in the Sinai, by taking control of their own base. "

At this, many questions ensued, as anyone knew what the hell he was talking about, and everyone wanted to ask how this was possible.

" It was indeed a trivial matter, something that only required to pinpoint the exact location of the terrorist before attack, as differently many other companies claim instead that their bases goes out of their possibilities of action. Those who will invest in our company and will endorse our operation can now be sure that no criminal can escape our security forces, and soon more of these installations will be located and dismantled, unless the criminal will brought themselves to justice. This is a promise only ENI can do you, without a single loss of human life. " He concluded, smiling. And this was only the prototype.

"So." Spoke one of the suit-clad businessmen as he turned off the television with a mere motion of his hand. A few others repeated his single word, dousing the room in a suspenseful atmosphere. One member of this imposing ensemble finally decided to utter something constructive to the starving conversation.

"Are we going to seize it?"

A few whispers immediately broke loose on cue, too faint for the inquirer to hear it. No doubt was it irrelevant to his final answer, which a firm yet cautious 'yes'.

"Very well. I'll have preparations made for the future. This won't be an easy task..."