Status: The story is as good-to-go as Bastien is ninja. And that's pretty epic.
Mr Assassin
Chapter 1
Assassins train from a relatively young age. They are chosen for their physical competence, mental capability and all-round skill for the trade. But the 'true prodigies' are recognized from an age as young as four or five. These children will go on to be the Best of the Best, or die trying. I, personally, was drafted at age eight, when I nigh on destroyed a man three times my weight and height in a Judo competition.
Let's just say the guys were impressed.
So I went on to do my two years of advanced training then was thrust out into the field at ten years old. I insisted they let me wear cargo pants and camouflage face paint until, one day, I looked in the mirror. I was granted an epiphany, and the cargo pants went.
I was one of the best in my section - racking up more kills than men with double my age and years of service.
One thing all assassins are encouraged to remember is that the guys who run the show don't particularly care how you get the job done, as long as you meet the requirements set by the client and you abide by the very few rules. The rules being thus:
1.The target must end up dead.
2. No bombs allowed (too messy). Unless a mass killing is required or the use of bombs is unavoidable.
3.Don't get close to the target.
4.An assassin must never reject an assignment. Ever.
And I never did refuse a single assignment, even when I was advised not to by a Commanding Agent. I now know, that if one of the very few guys who can take me down tells me to let something go, I let it go! Seriously.
The first time I ever didn't listen to Agent Mather's advice was also the last.
On the day of my sixteenth birthday, I was requested to track-down and kill a fairly high-ranking Mafia associate. I was chosen specifically for the job because I had worked with the Mafia before, and knew my way around. The agency I work for, simply known as the Assassin co., is a Switzerland of sorts. People may know that I use that in reference to WW2, when Switzerland announced its neutrality. The Assassin co. will work for either sides of justice. The various organizations recognize and respect that fact. I have killed for both sides.
This particular man I was after was an ex-assassin who, ironically, turned to the Mafia for protection when all his obstructions came back to bite him in the ass. Choosing me to hunt him down had proven controversial for the executives of the Assassin co. Some believed that because the man in question knew me, it would hinder my progress of getting into close proximity of him. Others argued that he would trust me, and let his guard down in my presence. In the end, it was left up to me to decide whether or not to take the assignment - something that has never happened before. I opted to take it, despite the warnings of my teachers, mentors and co-workers.
Biggest. Mistake. Ever.
The mission went like a breeze. The guy ended up inviting me over for drinks (although he knows I'm only sixteen). I ran him through with a switch-blade before he could even hang up his coat. The only problem was the flight back to Headquarters.
Being trained in the fine arts of explosives and pyrotechnics, I could straight away recognize the tell-tale signs of a bomb on board. In fact, it was a Grade A patented Assassin co. bomb. It contained a special blend of peroxide, gasoline and gun powder. It was rigged to inject methane gas into the air before detonation. Just to create that extra 'boom'. I could definitely smell methane. I could hear the ominous ticking of the timer.
I am not gonna die here I thought gravely to myself.
Copyright Lewis 2009 - 2010
Let's just say the guys were impressed.
So I went on to do my two years of advanced training then was thrust out into the field at ten years old. I insisted they let me wear cargo pants and camouflage face paint until, one day, I looked in the mirror. I was granted an epiphany, and the cargo pants went.
I was one of the best in my section - racking up more kills than men with double my age and years of service.
One thing all assassins are encouraged to remember is that the guys who run the show don't particularly care how you get the job done, as long as you meet the requirements set by the client and you abide by the very few rules. The rules being thus:
1.The target must end up dead.
2. No bombs allowed (too messy). Unless a mass killing is required or the use of bombs is unavoidable.
3.Don't get close to the target.
4.An assassin must never reject an assignment. Ever.
And I never did refuse a single assignment, even when I was advised not to by a Commanding Agent. I now know, that if one of the very few guys who can take me down tells me to let something go, I let it go! Seriously.
The first time I ever didn't listen to Agent Mather's advice was also the last.
On the day of my sixteenth birthday, I was requested to track-down and kill a fairly high-ranking Mafia associate. I was chosen specifically for the job because I had worked with the Mafia before, and knew my way around. The agency I work for, simply known as the Assassin co., is a Switzerland of sorts. People may know that I use that in reference to WW2, when Switzerland announced its neutrality. The Assassin co. will work for either sides of justice. The various organizations recognize and respect that fact. I have killed for both sides.
This particular man I was after was an ex-assassin who, ironically, turned to the Mafia for protection when all his obstructions came back to bite him in the ass. Choosing me to hunt him down had proven controversial for the executives of the Assassin co. Some believed that because the man in question knew me, it would hinder my progress of getting into close proximity of him. Others argued that he would trust me, and let his guard down in my presence. In the end, it was left up to me to decide whether or not to take the assignment - something that has never happened before. I opted to take it, despite the warnings of my teachers, mentors and co-workers.
Biggest. Mistake. Ever.
The mission went like a breeze. The guy ended up inviting me over for drinks (although he knows I'm only sixteen). I ran him through with a switch-blade before he could even hang up his coat. The only problem was the flight back to Headquarters.
Being trained in the fine arts of explosives and pyrotechnics, I could straight away recognize the tell-tale signs of a bomb on board. In fact, it was a Grade A patented Assassin co. bomb. It contained a special blend of peroxide, gasoline and gun powder. It was rigged to inject methane gas into the air before detonation. Just to create that extra 'boom'. I could definitely smell methane. I could hear the ominous ticking of the timer.
I am not gonna die here I thought gravely to myself.
Copyright Lewis 2009 - 2010
♠ ♠ ♠
Bleaaaaaaaacchhhhhhhhhhh~