{ Present || The Warren || 11:40 pm }
The silence was deafening. About eight minutes had passed, and still no one had stampeded into his office. However, once the clock struck 11:39, Felix could sense the silent footsteps of the figure behind him. Using his peripheral vision, he made out the distinct dark-colored hair and plastered scowl of Axel Wolff. He stood next to him in the same stoic fashion, observing the statues and barely making a sound. Felix quickly glanced at him, and then returned his gaze to the underwater sculpture of his father. There had always been distance between him and Axel. Felix could never tell if Wolff truly distrusted his leadership, or if he was just putting on a subtle facade of objection. He had never let people's opinions of him get to his head. He knew what his father had signed him up for. Still, he always kept a watchful eye on Axel's allegiance, his whereabouts, and his words. To put it simply, there was something fishy about him...
“Your father was a great man.” he said, obliterating the tension between the two. Felix remained silent and unchanged in position. “I hope to one day only join him out there in that garden with my ancestors as well.” Now he felt Axel's eyes on him. “I wish to fulfill this contract sir. It’d be my pleasure.”
Felix noiselessly turned his head, locking his hawk-like eyes with Wolff's. However, before he could say a word in reply, a booming voice joined their conversation. "Hold you horses hot-shot." said Otis, Roselin not to far behind him. "Someone else might want a crack at it." The tips of Felix's lips curled upwards into something that could pass as a small smile. The distinct humor of the Carters never ceased to amuse him. Their golden hair, as well as their vibrant, charming personalities brought light into the darkness of the Warren.
Otis's presence made Axel roll his eyes. Out of the corner of his own eyes, Felix noticed Sandara Barnett towards the back of the room. If there was anyone he was expecting to see at this moment, it was her. "So boss," Otis said, his hands placed casually in his jean pockets, "who are the targets?" Felix opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted by Axel. "Listen, there are tons of capable people here that can finish this job." he argued, "But you know better than anyone here that some of us are just better than the rest. Capable doesn't always cut it."
"Yes, capable doesn't always cut it," Felix irritably shot back, "Especially when the power of your enemy is unknown to you. Then you fall prey to ignorance." He glared at Axel for a few moments, and then briskly prowled over to his desk. Still standing, he leaned forward over the sleek, black surface, and began to speak.
"Listen up," he projected, addressing everyone with individual glances. "When I said before that this contract was a 'big one', I meant it in a plethora of ways. As you already know, three targets have been specified in the contract. The client is willing to pay twenty-thousand pounds for each one dead." he said, his eyes turning darker, "So in total, that comes out to sixty-thousand pounds." he stopped momentarily, letting his words sink in. "To put it simply, that's a lot of money, and it's more than any contract the Breakers have had so far."
He grabbed the piece of parchment on his desk, and glanced downwards while continuing to speak. "Now to answer your question, Otis...I've done research on these targets, and they're not nearly the rag-tag sort of crooks we've all dealt with in the past." he rolled his head on his shoulders, glancing at him with a mirthless smirk. "No, these are homicidal psychopaths with extraordinary criminal records that have surpassed anything I've ever seen in my entire life." He looked downwards again, giving some sort of inaudible sigh. He knew there was going to be resentment upon what he was about to say next.
"Now, it's strange for a client to want one person dead, but three? It's intriguing. We can assume that there's a connection between these targets. Of course, our client could just have anger issues and wants all three of them assassinated for whatever offense they've committed in the past, but it seems somewhat unlikely. If there is a connection between them, I don't want anyone outnumbered in the heat of a situation. I know you're all capable of going above and beyond the call of duty, but some of these targets have killed more men than you. Some of them have killed more legends than you...It's not that I don't want to take risks, it's just that I want to go about this strategically and with caution. So I'd like to put everyone in groups of two while searching for these madmen. That way, while you're focused on one of them, another won't have the opportunity to stab you in the back." He continued before anyone could say anthing, "Plus, it's a large amount of money as it is. If there are six of you undertaking this, you'd each get ten-thousand pounds once the targets are all dead."
He sauntered in front of his desk, holding out his hand for everyone to see. On his ring finger, shining a mesmerizing shade of emerald green, was the famous charm that had belonged to every Breaker that had fallen into a leadership position. It was known as Death's Mirror, and it was one of the most powerful time-travelling devices in the world. "Now, to show you all who you'll be up against..."
Almost immediately, a hologram-like image of a long-haired man projected from out of the emerald ring. The man was displaying a condescending smirk - as though he knew everything there was to know about everyone, and was unafraid to use his knowledge for destructive blackmailing purposes. "Asmodeus Blakely. Twenty-six years old. Known for his intelligence, cunning, and psychopathic behavior. If you've ever heard of the legend of 'Jack the Ripper', this is him right here. One of his well-guarded secrets. He has been known for his homicidal rampage, having killed over a dozen women during the Victorian age." Felix then gave a smirk, "Plus, I hear he's got a thing for classical music."
Asmodeus's face suddenly faded into that of a beautiful blonde-haired woman. "Ondine Caudill. Twenty-four years of age. On the Scotland Yard's most wanted list for various accounts of murder and theft...Apparently, she's pretty handy with a knife. Cruel, calculating...she's dangerous. You all get the idea."
The last face was that of a greasy-looking young man. His face and hair seemed chiseled and organized, but his eyes crackled with mischief. "Last but not least, a man by the name of Frank Floyd. I couldn't find much on him...probably because he's using an alias. However, I did manage to discover a few things about him. Like Asmodeus, he's a psychopath. Apparently, someone saw him jump right in front of a train last year for reasons unknown, although witnesses claim that he was trying to hijack it. Unlike the other two, he doesn't have any wits. But what he lacks in brains he makes for up in balls. According to our good friends, the Watchers," he gave a fake smile, "he's escaped their custody five times. Murderer, gambler, and smuggler, he's really the whole package"
Frank's face faded out, and Felix leaned back on his desk, his arms crossed just below his chest. "And those are our targets, all of them time-travelers, just like us."