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Parasite is the third part of The Underground series

Chapter 8 of 29

The Best Laid Plans

Alias

If The Underground is one thing, it's a test. A test of skill, intelligence, and whit; a full test of survival. Animals in their natural habitat become masters of survival because they learn what works and what doesn't. Every new form of life, something that desires survival, that is introduced to any new environment must earn their right to live.

I look at the people around me, each one of them in a savage competition for survival. The Underground is our environment, our dark concrete jungle. Anyone who has ever been a part of this brave new world has earned their rights to life. Newbies, more commonly referred to as milk cartons around here, don't usually last too long. Why? The answer is simple; they're not prepared to fight for their lives. They don't possess the constitution to do what they must to live another day. What happens to them? The same thing that happens to any species unable to adapt to a hostile environment.

They go extinct.

"And this is a picture of our guy."

A photograph was pushed into his dark paws. Alias studied it for a moment as the black SUV swayed back and forth, hitting every uneven spot on the asphalt. His body already felt weighed down enough as it was, so even putting the insignificant amount of weight from a picture under his sleeve for reference made him hesitant.

"Who's idea was it to use this stupid rope?" Alias asked, scowling. The double-braided nylon rope was snaked lovingly around his neck and left armpit, but felt like an iron collar around his neck.

"You'll want one that heavy-duty." Mick replied, turning around in the driver's seat. "From where you'll be jumping, you most definitely will want that rope."

"Fucking great..." Alias grumbled in response. "Already forty pounds heavy with equipment and body armor, now I'll be sweating my ass off dragging this rope up forty flights of steps!"

"Wah, wah..." Jenna chided. "Can't use the elevators with no power." She continued reminding him; almost a sweet tone in her voice. "Not until you can splice into their network so I can kill their cameras." Sitting next to him, she pulled the rope a bit tighter around him causing Alias to give her a death stare.

"Alright," Mick called from up front. "We're a block out. Let's hear a timeline."

"Nine thirty, we arrive, enter the building, black out the entire block." Jenna repeated from memory.

"Nine forty, I'm on my way up." Alias fell in, adjusting the heavy kevlar vest covering his black shirt and protecting his abdomen and chest. "Nine forty-five, I splice into the superintendent's office."

"Nine fifty, power's back online, I tap into the grid." Jenna picked up, pulling a messenger back from the floor of the SUV. "If I try before you have that splice in place, I'll leave a digital footprint that the Blackwell was there." Alias looked over at Jenna who was shaking her head. "We don't want the Feds to know we've got tech like this."

"Ten on the dot, I'm pulled around the block waiting for your go code." Mick droned, looking at his mirrors as he merged into the right lane. Alias caught Mick's eyes in the rearview mirror looking at him. "And it's your show."

"Ten minutes to dog it up those stairs..." Alias muttered, looking out the window, seeing their intended destination towering before them. "Ten o'clock, I'm on my way back down." He laughed slightly at the irony. "Shouldn't take me long. I'm out of there by ten fifteen. Just be ready for a quick exit."

"Approximately ten fifteen, I exit the building. Video surveillance is on a loop of nothing."

"I pull around with open doors." Mick quickly inserted. "Then drive around back to the service entrance."

"No later than ten thirty, I exit the service entrance." Alias said, letting out a slight sigh. "Beyond ten thirty, metro south." Again, he looked into the mirror, catching Mick's stone cold eyes.

"Cutting it close..." Mick warned.

"Ten-thirty, metro south. I'll be out" Out of the corner of his eyes, Alias could feel Jenna staring at him. "If one of us calls metro south; you walk away." Alias explained. "No questions, no arguments. We all just walk away."

"Right..." Jenna nodded solemnly. Her eyes fell as she continued to secure The Mercenary's gear to his body.

In that moment, Alias caught a glimpse of something in Jenna. He knew she was strong, stronger than she gave herself credit for. Moreover, she could hold her own; she wanted to hold her own. However, every once in a great while, Alias would see that small little gap in her armor when he knew something really was affecting her. At the mention of metro south, he saw that element of uncertainty in her. It scared her.

But if there was one thing that he truly admired about Jenna Carrington was that she chose to face her fear, making her something even greater. It made her brave.

Suddenly, his body slid forward slightly as Mick pulled to a stop. Without a word, Alias opened his door and slid out onto the sidewalk. Reaching back inside the SUV, he grabbed his long trenchcoat, pulling it around his shoulders. Sure, Alias probably looked like a public flasher, but he'd rather not stroll around with a suppressed forty-five strapped to his thigh and a silenced nine millimeter for backup with nothing to conceal them under. That wasn't good for the public or police.

"Kick some ass!" Mick called from the front, to which Alias nodded in acknowledgment, shutting the door.

Alias had to hand this one to Isis, because she had the whole situation called. Not that Alias doubted the possibility that he could carry out this contract without issue, but having more people did help. Isis wanted a quick turnaround time on taking this guy out, and Alias would have spent a good week analyzing the situation had this job been solo. Having done group work before, Alias knew how to function as part of a greater whole, but he had learned quickly that relying on others was a risk. Again, not that he had much to worry about, given present company, but in the past, team efforts had left a rancid taste in his mouth.

Not wasting much time, Alias moved swiftly, Jenna in tow, to the service entrance. Darkness had settled over Arcadia, bringing a front of snow with it. The tiny white flakes floated lazily downward, hitting the concrete and vanishing instantly. The lamps that burned an industrial sepia tone were the only evidence that snow was even falling. The tiny ice particles streaked by the orange bulbs of light, then disappeared into the night. Almost a metaphor for their presence here.

Picking the lock wasn't an issue. As far as locks go, this apartment tower didn't exactly invest in top of the line security. Jiggling the handle while manipulating the tumblers within the locking mechanism, he quickly disengaged the pins, rendering the actual lock useless. Twisting the door handle, Alias pushed the metal door inward, holding it open for Jenna who quickly darted into the darkened service-room. The vixen didn't waste much time getting to work, her paws already pulling the clunky Blackwell from her messenger bag.

"How we doin'?" Alias asked, shutting the door behind them quickly.

Jenna nodded, focusing on her work. "Electric line is right here, shouldn't take me long to disrupt the feed."

With his keen eyes, Alias paced the maintenance room, trying to take as much in as possible. Air compressors, circuit breaker boxes, water, internet, gas utilities all channeled into this one room for easy access. Of course, the architect had no reason to consider anyone would be using their own utilities against them. Jenna placed the computer on an empty space, pushing open the folder causing the screen to light up in startup mode. Standing on her tip-toes, she leaned over the various electrical equipment, searching for the right wires leading to the back of the large breaker system, basically taking up on entire wall of the maintenance room.

After careful study of the system, Jenna made the discovery that the electrical feed had a small fiber optic cable that monitored the power flow to the complex. Depending on the needs to of the building more power would be diverted from the grid if needed, all based on a small computer controlled program so basic any CIS major could manipulate it... or so Jenna claimed. Manipulate that program, and she could raise all kinds of Hell with their electrical systems. The idea was for her to channel the main flow of the grid into this tower, causing the breaker to trip. All the power diverted from the grid would cause the rest of the block to black out, and the electrical overload would black the apartment out as well. The whole incident would look like a malfunctioning system and not raise suspicion... until they found a dead body.

However, they'd be long gone by the time any questions were raised.

A long cord hung from one of the Blackwell's USB ports with loose connections dangling from the other end where Jenna was fastening them to various wires.

"Do you have any idea how dangerous this is?" She muttered, still leaning over to examine the breaker system. "Splicing into live wires?" Jenna asked, sounding unconcerned.

"Don't even..." Alias muttered, watching her work while he kept an eye out for any building maintenance or security personnel. His paw tugged at the nylon rope, already causing him to sweat where it hung uncomfortably around his neck. "Until you're hanging like a piñata, I don't want to hear about it." He followed up in his dark tone.

Still focusing on her work, Jenna pecked at a few of the keys on the Blackwell. "Hey, I'm the computer geek. That's the luxury of my job, I don't have to do that stuff." She laughed slightly, smile illuminated by the computer screen. "What are you afraid of heights or something?"

Alias stopped, turning to look. His immediate reaction was to say something, but found it hard finding anything to counter her argument with. So, he simply stood there.

"Seriously?" Jenna blurted out, finally looking over at him, a humored expression on her face.

"I'm not afraid of heights!" Alias rejected, flatly.

Jenna simply shook her head, small smile on her face as she typed and pecked at the Blackwell. "Alias, feared assassin in The Underground, afraid of falling..."

"More like the sudden impact at the very end." Alias explained, mental images of a long drop, his body crushing inward against the harsh concrete sidewalks flashing through his mind. Gravity would juice his body like he were ripened fruit. Experts say you don't even feel it, but how do they know? Have they ever died that way before? How do they know you don't feel every bone shattering on impact? "I like my boots on the ground."

"Well, pull your straps tight, because our curtain is about to go up." Jenna said going back to a more hushed tone, checking her watch. "With... two minutes to spare."

Pulling his coat off, and leaving it with Jenna, Alias slowly walked over to the door leading outside the maintenance room and placed his paw on the doorknob; ready. He'd run straight, blinded by the darkness, to a stairwell at the end of the corridor outside this room. Jenna hit the enter key on the Blackwell white Alias watched as the screen began running some kind of program, what he guessed was controlling the power flow. The light level in the dark room suddenly began to change. The single light on the ceiling grew brighter and brighter, surging as an entire city block's worth of electricity overloaded the tower. As the bulb hit the apex of it's light level, there came a dull thud as the circuit breaker tripped, shutting off all power, blanketing the room in utter darkness.

Run.

Twisting the door knob, Alias watched as Jenna's image disappeared into the darkness. He pushed off the tips of his toes, doing a long sprint down the blackened hallway, emergency lighting kicking on, giving him something to navigate by. Down the corridor was a straight shot to the central stairwell that would take him up to the building superintendent's office. Knowing the distance to the top was a fixed distance, Alias found it within himself to force his muscles to hurry. The time it took to reach the top floor was the only variable in this equation. If he didn't reach that floor by the time the power came back online, he'd have his face on every camera in the stairwell.

No good.

The first few flights of steps were relatively easy. They had a hard angle to them, but in turn, it resulted in each flight being a shorter distance. His long legs chose to skip a few of the steps, finding it a better way to manage his energy. However, around floor fifteen, his muscles began to rebel as lactic acid developed on them. His lungs pulled in as much oxygen as he possibly could through his mouth. Legs burning and heart pumping hard, Alias checked his watch; forty-five, five minutes to go and only about halfway there.

Pushing himself harder, he grabbed ahold of the metal railing, vaulting himself up the steep incline. Legs becoming exhausted, his arms helped pull his body forward. Twenty-fifth floor. His lungs were suddenly heavy, like they couldn't pull in the needed oxygen anymore. There were ways to manage your breathing during times like these, but in the moment, and already exhausted with insomnia, all Alias could think about was stopping to rest.

Forty-seven; three minutes.

Alias watched as the floor numbers slowly increased with every second turn he made in the stairwell. Reaching floor thirty, he grabbed the handle, busting through the door, into more blackness. As he ran down a well furnished hallway, a chirping came from his watch. He had set an alarm earlier when he had only one minute remaining. At ten till, nine-fifty, the lights, and cameras would come back on. If the splice wasn't in place, Jenna wouldn't be able to access building security without issue.

Rounding a corner, sweat dripping from his brow, Alias slammed into a hardwood door, the lock snapping easily under his weight. The super's vacant office was fairly basic; just a small place for him or her to do building business. Noting the small computer on a bookshelf behind the desk, Alias scurried over to the CPU, turning it slightly to access the back panel. More digital chirping came from his watch, only this time more frequent in it's intervals.

Thirty seconds.

Memory stick already in paw, Alias found a free USB port on the back of the super's computer, and inserted it. Moving his arm so his watch was in the emergency lighting, Alias watched the countdown to the power's reactivation, hoping this hack would work. His eyes watched as the tiny black, digital numbers counted down to zero, blinking slightly when it finally hit.

With his counter at zero, Alias waited, but nothing happened. His eyes went nervously to the black computer screen, still powered down.

Suddenly, the desk lamp lit up the room, and the sound of the ventilation system kicking on filled the office with a steady white noise of activity. Looking down, the computer began to slowly come online, running system diagnostics from the unexpected power loss. As it ran through a checklist, the command prompt suddenly froze, the little white letters of digital jargon changing over to that of bright red. The screen flashed a bright white, causing Alias to squint. Soon afterward the monitor returned to normal, and a single word flashed on the screen momentarily, then faded out completely: BLACKWELL.

Jenna was in.

The super's computer then returned to it's regular programming, starting up as it would any time there was a shutdown. Only this time, Alias knew the Blackwell's ghost programs would give Jenna a backdoor into what they needed. Reaching around the processor once more, Alias pulled the memory stick with the Blackwell's taylor-made virus aboard, and slipped it into his pocket. Feeling the nylon of the rope rub against his neck, Alias remembered the hard part was still coming.

His paw moved to his ear, pushing in on the tiny transmitter Mick had ordered for all of them. "I'm set." He whispered into the earpiece.

"Video's on a loop." Jenna's voice crackled, interlaced with standard radio interference. "You're free and clear."

"Radio chatter's picked up on the blackout, other than that the scanners are free." Mick confirmed from the SUV. "Visual on the target. En route to your location. I'd get to where I need to be getting!" He encouraged.

Peeking his head out from around the corner of the door, Alias was able to take in the hallway in detail for the first time. The walls were a pale blue, with dark mahogany trim accenting it. Mirrors and fake potted plants were spaced out up and down the hall, giving it a more homely look. So far, he hadn't run into any of the other tenants and he was hoping to keep it that way.

"How are my halls looking?" Alias whispered, holding the transmit button on his earpiece.

"Empty." He heard Jenna reply, watching the real-time feed. "You're clear."

Without having to be asked again, Alias broke from the super's office, and made his way quickly and quietly back to the stairwell. He moved fast, but not in the mad sprint from before. Instead, Alias had the luxury of pacing himself as he climbed the stairs to the top of the building. Quickly, he pushed the heavy iron door to the roof open, and was greeted by the whirring and groaning of the fans and ventilation units that circulated the air in the complex. Boots making small crunches on the gravel that covered the roof, Alias took a moment, looking out at the lights of Arcadia.

There was something unique about the lights of a city at night. It made the whole place seem different in a deceivingly beautiful way. It was these rare times that Alias actually could say that society had created something that had beauty to it. It was an unintentional beauty, however that made it all the more perfect. With the the aid of the natural world's sea and clear sky, society's architecture didn't seem to be intrusive or destructive; it just seemed to be. From the West Side, to Valley Vista, all the way to Portside, where the ocean met the cold beaches of Arcadia, it all just seemed to have a calm, ethereal appeal about it.

Shaking his head, Alias came back to reality, feeling the overbearing weight of the rope. Sightseeing would have to be saved for another day, because right now, Alias had bigger issues to deal with. Quickly, he pulled the rope from his neck, feeling a rush of cool air. With both ends attached to a carabiner, the black fox walked to the edge of the building, slapping on of the carabiners around the safety rail, securing one end of the rope. With the other, he clipped the carabiner to the kevlar harness that was secured around his midsection, pulling it taught. Looking over the side of the rail, Alias felt his feet grow heavy as his body made him aware of it's distaste of heights. Unfortunately, he knew that this was something he was doing, regardless of how much he enjoyed it. After pulling on a set of tight, durable gloves, Alias again checked his connections and harness, then stepped up onto the railing facing the roof, back turned to the sharp drop.

Cautiously, he pressed against the radio to transmit, his other paw secured around the railing. "In position..." He said quietly as a sharp gust of wind caused his body to sway dangerously toward the edge.

"I can see the target on the feed... he's in the building, heading up." Jenna informed, crackling through. "Go on my mark..."

His paw still wrapped around the metal rail, Alias hung there, back looming out over the abyss. It was the waiting, he always hated the waiting right before a big operation. Those tense, anxiety ridden, moments where your mind plays out everything you need to do, and all the ways it could go wrong. It was the waiting he hated, because his mind would play on all those 'what-if's' about the operation at paw. As he hung there, mind starting to turn on him, Alias wondered if Jenna would ever give him a green light.

"Mark!"

Trying to think as little as possible, Alias felt his grip on the railing go lax, and his body fall backward, boots leaving the railing and meeting only air. Suddenly, his body was moving again, gaining momentum as he plummeted. Wind ripped by his ears as his paws snapped to the rope gripping it with all his might. The rushing wind around his head drown out any noises around him, but he could feel the friction of the rope burning against his gloves as he eased his drop, however still going fast.

Before Alias even knew it, the slack disappeared and the rope ended. A slight groan of pain escaped his lips as he felt his momentum being jerked to a halt as his body hung from the end of the rope, dangling nearly twenty-five stories above the earth, body bumping against the side of the building.

His mind resyncing with reality, Alias carefully placed his boots against the plate glass window of an extremely lavish apartment. As he hung there, secured by his harness which was attached to the nylon rope, his paw slowly moved behind his back meeting the rough grip of a pistol, one of his suppressed forty-fives. His eyes scanned over the darkened condo, looking for signs of life and fortunately there were none. That made this operation less complicated.

Feeling brave, Alias looked over his shoulder, chancing a peek at what was below him. That peek was more than enough, as his eyes clamped shut, turning back to the window.

"Target is approaching..." He heard Jenna say calmly, noticing the locks on the front door disengaging.

Finally the door to the condo swung open, a middle aged salamander standing in the threshold. Not even noticing a fox hanging outside his living room window, the salamander took off his jacket, placing it in a closet and moved to the kitchen under Alias's watchful eye.

"Visual on the card?" Mick's tiny voice asked in Alias's ear. Like a predator, Alias hid in the shelter of the darkness, knowing the light from inside would reflect off the darkened windows, masking his presence to the target. Yes, Alias would kill this person, but he couldn't just yet. Not until he zeroed the keycard for the detonators. Hell knows, he could have left it at the office, or put it in a vault. Regardless, Alias needed to see it before he could move on the target. Mick claimed it was on this guy... but Alias needed confirmation. Torture didn't always work for extracting information. There were some tough bastards in this world.

Get closer... Alias's mind begged, not only hoping to see the card, but to make this kill as simple and bloodless as possible. The target made himself a drink in the kitchen, taking slow, lazy gulps before grabbing his mail from the table, and began walking to the living room. The Mercenary slowly drew his pistol, pulling the slide back, metallic ping sounding as a bullet entered its chamber, making sure it was ready. Still, no visual on the card, so Alias simply hung halfway down an apartment high-rise.

There are easier jobs... His inner monologue complained as the areas where the harness wrapped around his body, securing Alias to the rope, were starting to grow sore from supporting his weight.

Alias's ear perked up, as there came a knocking at the door, as did the salamander's. Cursing as he turned away, Alias watched as this guy walked slowly back to his door. Maybe he ordered takeout or something? Hopefully he didn't have a date. That'd fuck up the whole works really well.

Nothing could have prepared Alias as his ears were pierced with the booming sound of a shotgun going off, the glass of the window next to him blowing outward and shattering. As Alias shielded his eyes from the broken glass flying at him like flack, the salamander's midsection erupted in a score of bloody holes as the pellets of the shotgun ripped through his flesh. Dead before he hit the ground, his corpse jumped back from the door a good ten feet, leaving a smear of blood against the wooden floor, mouth open and tongue hanging out.

"Son of a bitch!" Alias cried out through his fangs, jumping as far right as he could to avoid the backlash of the ambush. Swinging slowly from left to right, attempting to steady himself, Alias watched a dark figure from the condo's hallway enter and start patting down the body. Squinting, he watched as this new assassin's paw grabbed what looked like a necklace around the salamander's throat and jerked it up, pulling a rectangular object from his shirt. They key.

No.

No way was this motherfucker taking this away from him! Mind flashing back to Trilby's warning about other mercenaries, Alias kicked back from the remaining window, taking up aim with his pistol. As his body swung backwards, Alias let several slugs pass through the glass, causing tiny fractures to cover it's once pristine surface. Swinging like a pendulum of a clock, Alias's body reversed direction, momentum crashing through the weakened window, and releasing the carabiner.

Glass rained down on him, as he rolled forward behind a recliner. As soon as Alias burst through the window, the mystery assassin took up aim of his own. The deafening sound of shotgun fire echoed off the small walls of the condo. So much for being discrete. Hunkering down, Alias felt the chair moving in response to the multiple blasts that were directed at him.

Hearing a break in the firefight, Alias burst from behind the chair, sliding across the floor, letting his pistol sing its song. Because of the black balaclava the assassin wore, Alias couldn't tell who or what this other mercenary was, only that he was holding a large SPAS-12 shotgun; a very fine machine for killing. Flipping over on his feet and jumping behind the couch, several more blasts exploded from the barrel of the shotgun. Then there was silence, followed by the pitter-patter of feet running down a hardwood floor.

Gun held out, ready for any sudden movements, Alias popped up from behind the couch. However, the assailant was already gone, leaving only the butchered body, laced with bullet holes.

"Somebody talk to me!" Alias growled into his earpiece, looking down at the ravished body.

"He just walked in! I thought he was just a tenant!" Jenna shrieked over the headset.

"Mick, be ready to move! Package is in the open; they got the card!" Alias warned, checking the hallway first before running after the gunman. "Jenna," Alias continued jogging down the hallway, "get to Mick! Hell knows what kind of backup they've got!"

Anything else that was said became lost as Alias sprinted down the hallway. Ears catching a ding, he doubled his efforts, knowing somewhere an elevator door was closing. Hearing the booming of a shotgun, one of the other tenants opened their door to see what all the commotion was. As Alias rocketed by with his pistol drawn, she screamed, slamming her door in fear. As he rounded the corner, his eyes could only watch as the sliding doors of the elevator closed just as he approached it.

Cursing, he slammed his fist against the door in a rabid anger. This was about more than some pricks getting his contract; if they failed this, things would get very bad for all of them. Losing a lead on Openshaw was just a small part of what was at stake. Holstering his pistol and working quickly, Alias wedged his fingers in the space between the doors, and once he had enough room, worked the toe of his boot in, forcing the automated doors apart. Not even taking time to think, Alias stepped out into the dark shaft, dropping about a story before his feet crashed down atop the descending elevator. As his body hit the roof, his boots came out from under him, causing his whole body to flop onto his stomach and slide off to top. A shock of fear swept through him as Alias felt his body go over the edge. Reaching out, his paw made contact with a ledge of the structure, and The Mercenary pulled himself to safety; away from the hazardous metal beams making up the interior structure that whipped by at high speeds.

Unfortunately, this feeling of safety was short lived as a hole erupted through the chassis of the elevator followed by a loud explosion. Rolling his body to the side, Alias grabbed one of the cables that ran from the roof of the building to the elevator, getting back to his feet. There was very little space to go atop a descending elevator when someone was shooting at you with a shotgun. Alias swung on the cables away from the hole, feeling the tiny projectiles race past his body with incalculable speed. His shoulder collided with a passing I-beam when he swung too hard. Knowing he couldn't survive much more of this Alias's paw went for his gun, aiming downward.

Two can play this game asshole! His inner monologue barked with his fangs gritted as he squeezed the trigger.

Tiny metallic plinks echoed about the shaft as the black fox blindly fired downward at random. Force was met with force as more holes were blown through the ceiling, and Alias continued his exotic cable dance, keeping him alive. After a few more rounds, Alias could see his attacker scurrying from one side of the elevator to the other, trying to get underneath him. However, Alias was simply too quick. Waiting until the last second, he'd dart away, watching as a new hole formed in the metal as the angry pellets of the shotgun ripped their way through.

Hopping from one side to the other, while taking shots of his own, Alias didn't take into account the weakening roof of the elevator. As more and more holes were blown into it, there became less and less space for Alias's feet. Without giving it much thought, Alias's boot landed between a few holes, and shifting his weight around, it just so happened that at this one particular spot, Alias's weight was too much. He felt his surface give way, a feeling a shock and panic registering with him. All he knew was that his body was falling, followed by a loud crash as the entire roof gave way.

Florescent lights shattered, light covers fell, even some metal sheets crashed through the roof, landing on whoever was below him. He heard a loud cry of distress as the ceiling collapsed and caved in. Having lost his balance, Alias's arms flailed around trying desperately to steady himself as he fell hard on his back; head smacking against the cold floor as the elevator dinged to a stop at the ground floor.

Head suffering from a good whack, Alias laid there for a few moments completely dazed before he noticed the doors opening. They slid open, and a loud, alarmed gasp came from an elderly female canine and her husband who were waiting to get to their floor.

Suddenly, Alias's mind registered what was going on. In a flash he rolled over, watching as this mystery assassin was getting up, trying to hobble away; not risking sticking around for when the authorities showed up. Alias jumped outward at him, catching him around the waist, spearing him to the ground. Still a bit dazed, he clawed for the black ski mask, jerking it clear of his head. His eye's narrowed as the doxie's floppy ears fell free, hair matted from the product he had put in earlier that evening.

"You!" Alias snarled in surprise, pausing for only a moment as his brain processed this information. That moment was all it took, as his face was brutally smashed by the hard elbow of the dachshund's right arm, nailing Alias right across the nose. Head still slightly disoriented, the powerful blow sent the dark fox to the side as explosions of white light erupted behind his eyelids..

Dull, aching pain radiated through the right side of his muzzle where the assassin's elbow had come crashing against his nose. There had been a cold pop echoing through his head, followed by a warm, wet liquid slowly, dripping dark red patches on to the white marble floor. His eyes watered, snapping shut in agony as his nose bled freely. Wiping his eyes and getting to his feet, Alias turned back to the elevator, gathering his pistol.

This wasn't over.

Alias didn't say a word to the horrified couple as he darted after his hitman; rampage burning in his emerald eyes. He had recognized that face. Alias knew this person, and now he was so visibly livid, his paws ached to end the doxie's life... they yearned for it.

Sprinting, Alias pushed the earpiece in closer to his ear, transmitting. "It's the fuckin' Nine!" He hissed, air whistling between his gritted fangs.

"Pillars?" Mick's static-laced voice asked.

"How the fuck did they find out about this?" Alias's acidic tone burned through the line. His boots slammed against the tile floor of the lobby, bursting through a revolving door, trying his hardest to keep up with the doxie. "In pursuit of one!" He said, still transmitting, the cold outside air attacking him, as Alias was now without the protection of his overcoat. Looking in both directions, eyes scanning the crowd, Alias saw the other assassin pushing and shoving past bystanders on the street. "He's headed West on Pavilion!" Alias barked, tearing down the sidewalk after him. "Come around on Fifth, force him back my way!"

"Copy that, we're rolling!" Mick replied.

Lungs starting to burn, Alias had to keep forcing one foot in front of the other, toes springing off the sidewalk. His arms pumped up and down like pistons of a train, eyes focused on this other mercenary's back. Raising his gun level with his shoulder, Alias took aim. However, his target quickly ducked behind a cat who was walking down the street, blocking his shot. Cursing in his head, he lowered his pistol and continued to sprint. Running down a busy Arcadian sidewalk wasn't easy either. Like he was working his way through dense underbrush, Alias had to bob and weave between groups of people, sometimes roughly bumping into them, causing them to scream curses. Their words meant little to him as the assassin was also frantically pushing his way through the mobs of people on the way to his extraction point.

Interception; they needed to get to him before he got to his backup.

As they reached the end of the block a familiar, large, black SUV ran the red light, wheels locking up and screeching as the emergency break was pulled. Several other cars laid on their horns, blaring as they swerved as well, creating a congested intersection. Drifting to a stop in the middle of the busy intersection, the doxie knew it was not his people and was shunted across the street looking for an alternative path. His possibility of escape through West Pavilion cut off and Alias bearing down from behind, the only place left for the assassin to run was under the elevated train. Alias would prefer to take this guy alive so he could figure out how much he knew. His paw tightened around his pistol as he slid across the hood of a yellow taxi that had stopped in the middle of the street. Mick had already started working his way out of the traffic fiasco, but it would be a time before he could get free enough to help Alias.

Suddenly, the doxie's trajectory switched. Sliding to a near stop, he dashed to the right and began darting up the metal steps to the elevated train.

"He's going for the metro!" Alias shouted into his earpiece, landing a foot on top of a hood of a stopped car, vaulting himself across to the other side.

"Follow him through the station, I'll go around back and push him your way!" Mick replied, snaking out of his traffic jam and down a separate street. "He's gone if he makes it there!"

Sure enough, the assassin had already made it up the steps to the elevated train, followed promptly by Alias, taking two steps at a time. Panting to make up for the lost air, Alias's boots finally met the station platform. Breaks screeching, a silver metro thundered through the station. The departing train wasn't what the assassin had been expecting. His feet slid to a stop, mind pondering what to do next.

Not missing a beat, Alias's black paws latched onto the interloper's back, launching him forward into a support column, banging his forehead. The doxie recovered quickly, pushing off the metal beam, and spinning around on one foot, brought his heel across Alias's face with ease. As heel met jaw, a small explosion of pure rage burnt in Alias's core. One of the doxie's fists jabbed at his nose. Ready for an attack, the fox merely slapped the throw away, bringing his elbow around, catching the canine's chin. Doubling over, the assassin backed up slightly, staggering to maintain his balance. Without thinking, Alias crashed his knee against the assassin's forehead, almost flipping him on his back.

Reaching forward, the fox's paws gripped the inside of the assassin's jacket, feeling the breast pockets of his coat. A wave of powerful pressure suddenly collapsed in around Alias's ears as the canine's paws boxed the fox's ears painfully. Wrenching away in pain, Alias gritted his teeth, letting out a seething groan of agony. This was quickly followed by a dull, thudding ache in the middle of his chest as a boot shoved unmercifully into his sternum, knocking Alias backwards. Air venting from his lungs, he was forced to catch his breath as the assassin flipped over, bringing his legs over his head and rolling back to his feet in a combat stance.

The two mercenaries faced the other with equal contempt in the other's eyes. One would walk away tonight with the card; only one. Jaw set, the lethal canine threw a sudden punch at Alias, which he easily knocked away, followed by a jab with his other balled fist. Again, Alias knocked it away as well, but the canine was extremely quick.

Bone's clattered together as Alias spun around, and leaned back on his left leg to deliver a kick, only to be blocked by the doxie's shin. As their hard bones collided, the fox swore he could hear a crack as they connected painfully. Alias spun around on his toes, landing his leg, but with a throbbing so intense he didn't even want to put weight on it. These kinds of pains were usually fleeting, but while they were here, they hurt like a bitch. Suddenly, the doxie lunged at Alias, attempting to spear him, however, Alias latched onto the assassin's wrists, and spun him around, intending to let go. The assassin's paws didn't release Alias in return and his momentum pulled the fox off balance as well. He felt his body land hard against part of the platform, then slowly start going over the edge. The other assassin's paws grabbing ahold of Alias, the two tumbled off the platform onto the tracks of the metro.

As they crashed against the hard wood and steel of the tracks, Alias noticed his surroundings becoming increasingly brighter around him for reasons he couldn't account for. Nose like a living mass of throbbing pain from taking a hit from an elbow, Alias blinked, jumping to his feet. Looking down the tracks, Alias soon realized why everything was getting so bright around him. Another metro let out a loud blast from it's horn as it thundered down the line, having no intentions of stopping at this station. Looking over, he saw the assassin climbing up the platform from the tracks, again trying to escape.

The metro's loud, blaring horn sounded again, getting closer. The structure on which Alias stood began to vibrate in anticipation of the arriving train. Thinking that if he didn't get the keycard now, he'd lose it completely, Alias launched himself atop the assassin, legs still hanging off the platform. The two struggled, as Alias's paws wrapped around his chest, reaching into his jacket pockets, trying desperately to locate the card everyone, Mick, Jenna, and Trilby, all expected Alias to obtain. Realizing Alias's intentions, the assassin once again directed his elbow at Alias's face, connecting with his already bloodied nose. Nose already busted, The Mercenary cried out in agony as his damaged cartilage was abused more. His grip on the assassin's grey jacket breaking, Alias fell away onto his back.

Landing on one of the metro's rails, the wind was again knocked forcefully from his lungs. The horn on the metro was so close, he could feel the audio vibrations from the air tickle the fur on his body. Forcing himself to react, Alias pushed to his feet as the stainless steel train blew into the station, white light washing out Alias as he looked back into the blinding lights of oblivion.

His feet pushed off the rails as if on cue, propelling the fox from the tracks, back onto the platform as the train rocketed by; the violently disturbed air rushing around him. Rolling to a stop on his stomach, Alias watched the mystery assassin chasing the train, trying to make it out the other end of the station. The quieted pops of his suppressed pistol were replaced with the booming explosions of unbridled gunfire as Mick arrived to head him off. Changing directions dramatically, the assassin darted for the metro, which was rumbling at full speed through the station, intending to stop at the next. Grabbing his gun, which he had dropped on the platform earlier, Alias rolled to his side, taking up aim. The silencer on the end caused the pistol to let out quieter cracks rather than the loud booms of a gun. Bullets hit the side of the metro with a plink, burying into the alloy frame of the cars. Grabbing a knife from his belt, the doxie smashed a window on the metro with the solid handle, causing the glass to collapse. Then pushing off his toes, Alias watched as the assassin's heels disappeared through the metro's window, on his way down the line. He could only lay there and watch the orange lights at the end of the train move further away; disappearing into the cold night.

Panting slowly, Mick jogged over to where Alias was getting to his feet.

"Fuck me..." He panted, breathlessly, placing his paws on his knees to calm his breathing. "They got away... didn't they?"

Paw gingerly rubbing the side of his swollen face, bruises already forming, Alias nodded. "I swear on my life..." He snarled quietly, panting slightly himself, "I'm going to murder that son of a bitch!"

"Frihe?" Mick asked, looking up at the pissed mercenary.

"Which means the others aren't far away..." Alias nodded his head. "We need to get out of here."

"We need to go after them!" Mick spat, sounding anxious. "We need that contract like no other!"

"No we don't." Raising his paw to his shoulder, Alias held something flat between his fingers. "McCain's going to be mighty pissed when Frihe shows up without this." Feeling quite pleased with himself for being able to pull the card off the assassin without him being the wiser. Sure, Alias had his face smashed in by an elbow to get this little piece of garbage, but by taking the blow, he had pulled the card off the assassin at that last moment.

Snatching the card from Alias's fingers, Mick examined the tiny piece of plastic. "You sneaky bastard..." Mick murmured, eyes scanning over the surface of the key. He slowly shook his head. "You do realize how much Hell this is going to raise once The Nine figure out they don't have the card?"

"They can raise as much Hell as they want." Alias replied, breath finally calming, but body only starting to register all the battle-scars from tonight's skirmish. "They know where they can find me when they're ready. After all," Alias paused, looking over at Mick who holstered his weapon at his side, "I used to work with them."

The Nine Pillars; the reason behind the rancid taste of teamwork. Funny thing was, there wasn't even nine members. At least not anymore.

Reaching across and tapping his shoulder, Mick turned and began moving quickly down the platform, followed by Alias. Off in the distance, sirens for emergency vehicles sounded. Police, maybe even some ambulances were headed their way. It was time to go. Without a word, the two quickly jogged down the platform steps where Jenna waited with the car. They had come out on top tonight. Just barely. But The Nine would be looking for retribution. However, now that his adversaries had shown themselves, Alias wasn't as apprehensive as before. He knew this enemy well. He knew their strengths, and he knew their weaknesses. As he and Mick fled the scene, Alias realized there was only one problem with this philosophy.

It meant The Nine knew all this about him as well.