There was a heavy silence in the room. It was a simple, white room, with a dozen chairs placed out. Some of the people sitting in the chairs were talking - some excited, others low-toned and serious. That was the way with the Assasians - some were borderline psychotics who saw an opportunity for carnage unleashed in the name of Cloud - others were professionals who saw the true seriousness of the situation - who saw Cloud's power base, carefull built up during the last twenty years, threatened. Threatened by the actions of one of their own - by one of the Assasians. To Cloud, that was unacceptable.

Number Seven counted himself among the professionals. Codenamed the Gunman, he was the best sharpshooter in all of Cloud, and one of its most experienced operators. More importantly, if there was anything that was above any doubt, it was his loyalty to Cloud. Today, as always, his face was emotionless, his voice silent, and his glowing eyes obscured by his long black hair. Unlike the others, he didn't talk, or socialize with the rest of the Assasians. There was no need to. Instead, he sat in a chair, reading the latest report he had received on the situation in New York.

It was bad. Seriously bad.

It was bad enough that one of the Assasians, one of the thirteen most trusted and deadly wetworks agents within Cloud, had gone rogue. That, in itself, posed a danger and threat to the organization that would have to be dealt with swiftly, and without mercy. Which was how Cloud responded to any threat against the organization. But, the fact that #13 had actually attacked Cloud - no, even worse - attacked Cloud's headquarters in New York City...

Number Seven's loyalty to Cloud was above question. He was one of the agents they would send out to take down #13. Which other Assasians they would send out, he didn't know yet. He looked around the room, studying a few of them. He took notice of #8's chair. #8 was still missing. It was uncertain whether or not he would show up at the meeting at all. Rumors whispered through the corridors of Cloud's underground headquarters said he had joined forces with #13, but nothing had been confirmed by their superiors yet. He didn't miss the freak, however. Master of the Chain, #8 was a psychopath, and a liability to any mission. Number Seven had learned that first-hand, the hard way...

His eyes wandered on, and he noticed other missing Assasians - #5 and #6. The Samurai, and the Twins. Perhaps they had yet to arrive.

The Samurai...a sword-wielding samurai born in the wrong era. A dangerous Assasian, and a dangerous man to work with, because he didn't always follow orders - follow the plan. Not a rogue agent, but one that couldn't always be trusted and counted on - at least, that was the Gunman's opinion of and experience with working with him. Nobody knew much about the Samurai, though. Not even Cloud. Number Seven didn't really like #5, but he would work with him if ordered to. To Number Seven, orders from Cloud were above question. That was why he was one of the top Assasians within Cloud.

And the Twins... The Gunman thought about them. They were as deadly as they were beautiful, perhaps more deadly than any other Assasians in the room. They fought with the Senbon, weapons they had perfected the use of, in a deadly harmony of terrible, silent killing. When the Gunman killed, there was always a gunshot, as a last epitaph of or salute to the life he had taken for Cloud. To the victims of the Twins, death came without forewarning - without salute - as swift and merciless as by the hands of the Grim Reaper himself.

Of course, those were the characteristics of all the Assasians. That was why they were the best. The last hidden weapon of Cloud, when all other options had been exhausted. The nuclear weapons in Cloud's arsenal of human weapons. The mere mention of the Assasians was enough to make most people in the Corridors of Power in Washington, and the rest of the world, tremble in fear.

But one of them had gone rogue.

#13 - the Black Mamba, master Assasian and wielder of the whip... Number Seven gritted his teeth hard. On the outside, nobody noticed his fury. The insult of an Assasian going rogue, though, was enough to make even the most emotionless of the Assasians, angry. But he quickly calmed down, and looked around the room once more at the other Assasians. Then, the door opened, and all eyes were drawn to the front, when a man entered.

It was time.

The Twins sat right next to each other, two seats up from #7. The were very quiet, which was unusual for them in this sort of situation. Yes, they were completely silent on the battlefeild, but inside, they would normaly be chatting like birds. However, today they were completely silent, staring straight ahead. One of their own had defected, and a fellow female no less. This angered them to no end. When the man entered, their eyes swiveled to him, waiting, almost with an air of aprehension.

Rougly five seconds after the Cloud Operative entered the room, #8 slouched in, twirling part of his chain around the fingers of his right hand. The chain itself was stained with dark crimson blood from his victims, and his liquid silver eyes danced with malice.
He took his place next to the Gunman, a cruel grin on his face as he did so.

Number Seven watched coolly as #8 arrived. His face didn't betray a hint of the disdain he felt for the other agent. It wasn't so much his love for murder and mayham that bothered the Gunman, as the fact he was a danger to any mission he participated in. The chain-wielding psychopath sat down next to the Gunman, at his designated chair, a twisted smile on his lips. Number Seven ignored him without as much as a muscle twitch in his face. Of course, there was another reason today, for his dislike of #8. Because #8 couldn't be trusted. The rumors that he worked with the Black Mamba had stemmed from somewhere, and until that source had been investigated, none of the Assasians could be certain of the Jackyl's loyalty.

The Gunman took due note of the fact that the Twins too had arrived. They were silent, unlike their usual chattering during the meetings. They too realized the seriousness of the situation. They too, were angered by the Black Mamba's actions. It would be good to work with them. They were professional Assasians. People he could trust. Unlike #8...

The Gunman looked coldly at the Jackyl without speaking, his eyes making no secret of the fact he thought of #8 as little more than an insect, albeit a psychotic one. The silence in the room was oppressive, interrupted only by the shuffling of the Cloud commander's papers by the desk at the front of the room.

Eleven Assasians were in the room. There was only one missing now.

Because Cloud now only had twelve Assasians...

"I am sure that all of you are aware of the situation that is at hand. One of your own has abanded her post, and threatened Cloud on a personal level. We have yet to understand why. For now, I have chosen three of you to track the Black Mamba, and subdue her. If she resists, you do have permision to execute her, however, as of right now, if that can be diverted, we would prefer it. We want answers. Now, these are the agents that have been chosen. Numbers Six, Seven, and Eight. The Twins, Gunman, and Jackyl. Go. Find Number Thirteen, and bring her home. May Cloud rise ever higher." The man spoke with confidence, addressing all of the Assasins in the room, but those three in particular. The Twins tensed when the Jackyl was called. The Gunman was fine...but that psychopath? This would be a trying mission.

Number Seven didn't move a muscle when the Jackyl's name was mentioned. Inside, however, he was angry. It was extremely dangerous to take #8 on a mission - especially this mission, where his loyalty was in question. The Gunman looked over at the Twins. They were most likely less than happy with the choice as well. But at least between them, there were three pairs of eyes to watch the Jackyl. His eyes drifted onward to #8, clutching his blood-stained chain with that psychotic smile on his face. The Gunman's eyes glimmered coldly, a silent warning to the chain-wielding assassin not to compromize the mission...

Number Seven looked back at the Cloud commander, and said a single word, with a low, bright but rough voice:
"Understood."

The Twins nodded, and said in unison, "Yes Sir."

Jackyl grinned. It wasn't hard to tell that his comrades didn't trust him and were unhappy with the choice. His grip on the chain tightened as he grinned and said, "Of course."

The commander nodded and replied, "You are to leave for the New York Base at once. Go."

The Twins stood up. They didn't need to be told twice. Jackyl grinned as usual, and took his time, but that wasn't to say he was slow. He just seemed...like he was biding his time.

The Gunman stood up, and walked out of the room. As soon as he got out, he headed towards the roof, where a helicopter was waiting to take them to NY. He noticed the Twins and the Jackyl following suit. Number Seven didn't need to pack anything - his trusted .47 Magnum rested under his left arm, as usual. He had everything he needed to get the job done. Between him and the Twins, they would track down the traitor, and bring her in for questioning. As long as #8 could control his urges to cause death and mayhem, that was... And as long as he could be trusted.

He shook his head as he thought about it, dismissing the train of thought. Cloud had seen fit to place him in a group with the Twins and the Jackyl. The Gunman never complained. That was one of his credos, and today was no exception. He would get the job done without failure, #8 or no #8 in his group. #13 had betrayed Cloud. That was unacceptable. Now, she had to face punishment. That was the mission of the Assasians.

The helicopter's engines were already roaring when the Assasians arrived to the roof. The Gunman entered the helicopter, and sat down inside, preparing for the long trip by re-reading the file on the NYC attack, that they had all received. It wasn't a military helicopter, but a comfortable civilian one, which allowed them to relax and get some sleep during the trip to New York. The Jackyl and the Twins soon followed him inside. When they were all sitting there, Number Seven felt the helicopter take off.

He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. Soon after, he fell asleep.

The Twins sat next to each other across from Numbers Seven and Eight. They didn't say a word, until number 8 said something to them of the effect about they're killing technique and how showy their outfits were. They replied as goes:

"Do..."
"Not..."
"Piss..."
"Us..."
"Off..."
"Or you will..."
"Regret it..."

They alternated between speaking the phrases, a deadly calm in their voices, which rang like wind chimes. Their eyes displayed almost pure and utter hatred for the man who spoke to them. After that, they fell silent, re-reading through their report.

Darkness had begun to fall when the helicopter soared in over New York City. At that time, Number Seven woke up from his sleep. He looked to his left, at #8, and across the helicopter, to the Twins. Giving them a short nod, as if saying, "Good evening", he once more looked out the window, seeing the colorful dotted spectrum of neon lights and glowing skyscraping pillars of light piercing the dark skies, pass them by. His attention was drawn away from the beautiful, vivid landscape among the clouds, by the Twins. The two of them were known to despise and hate #8 as much as the Gunman did.

His eyes drifted to the Assasian in question, a cold, detached look in his eyes, once more, as if he was looking at a mere insect.
"If you compromize the operation, I will kill you. Consider this your only warning." He said, with the usual cold tone of his voice. Then, he turned to the beautiful Twins, and added: "We're here to bring in a traitor. Where there was one, there might be more." That was another warning, this time to the Twins. It was clear he was referring to #8 with the statement of more traitors, as he could not be trusted, but also to all other Cloud agents that they didn't know and trust.

He unholstered the .43 Magnum revolver, opened the drum and made sure there were six .43 bullets placed in it, before closing it again. The hand-cannon was his weapon of choice, and one that he had mastered. Before the mission was over, he would see to it that the traitorous Black Mamba would lie dead at his hand by that gun, or locked in a detention cell in one of Cloud's blacksites. Slowly, he returned it to the holster, and returned to looking out the window.

"But..."
"Of course..."
"G."

The Twins spoke softly, but curtly. It wasn't meant to be disrespectful. "G" Was how they refered to the Gunman, and ussualy they were refered to as "T1" and "T2". Though...no one ever really knew which was which.

Jackyl laughed at the comment of the Gunman killing him. "Honestly, Gunman, I would like to see you try."

Whiz

Two needles protruded from the seat barely a centimeter away from Jackyl's head, both on the right and the left. Two lines of blood ran from both of his cheeks. He had a slightly shocked look on his face.

This time, the Twins spoke in unison. "Do not disrespect Number Seven, or you will have us to deal with." Their movements had beenalmost untraceable.

As usual, #5 never showed up at the meeting spot. Well he was, but just not inside. #5 was up on the roof, enjoying a bar of chocolate. His feet tapped silently on the roof top as he finished the last bit of the junk food. Why did he like sweets? He didnt even know himself. Maybe because it helped him to relax somewhat.
"Number 5..."
He heard a voice say. The samurai looked over at a man he never really remembered who he was. But his eyes soon wandered off him and stared at the sky.
"We already sent the other assassins out to find #13. Cloud wants you to join." the man spoke. #5 five yawned before getting up and jumping off the roof. The man assuming he got the message didnt say anything as #5 walked off.

[yeah.. that's pretty much what i got for my character to join this whole thing. ^^]

Number Seven gave an appreciative nod to the Twins. Hopefully between them and him, they would be able to keep #8 from botching their mission by his usual reckless behavior. It was a delicate operation that needed to be handled carefully - but Number Seven would not hesitate to spill blood if he had to to get the job done. A traitor to Cloud was unacceptable, and whether it was the Black Mamba's, or the Jackyl's blood, if necessary, Number Seven would see to it that it was spilt. Number Seven, and Number Six, the Twins, he corrected himself as he looked at the two Assasians.

Soon after, the pilot alerted them that they were closing in on the landing site, the burnt out headquarters of Cloud in New York City, their first, best, and only lead so far. Below, they could see Cloud soldiers and agents work through the debris while construction workers were starting to clean the site up. It was difficult for Number Seven to look at the burnt out graveyard that had once been the NYC headquarters of the proud and powerful Cloud. Now, it was nothing but a pile of rubble surrounded by Cloud operatives both dead and alive, as well as heavily armed Cloud soldiers.

As they landed, somebody approached, and opened the doors for them. Number Seven gave him an ambiguous look before stepping out without thanking him. There were several soldiers around as well, but none of them bothered the four. Number Seven took a few steps away from the helicopter. His hair blew in the wind of the engines, which soon died down as the helicopter pilot turned them off. Number Seven turned to the Cloud soldiers, nodded his head towards #8, and said: "Watch him.", as if telling them to keep the chain-wielding psychopath out of trouble. He then nodded to the Twins to commence the search, and with that, he approached the ruins of the huge construction to begin the investigation.

The Twins followed their orders, and began to search.When doing this type of work, they never stayed together or found one another. Because of their mind link, they didn't have to. The Jackyl however, went off to sulk on his own. It wasn't hard to sneak away from the soldiers, or his fellow assasins. He knew what he was looking for, and that he needed to find it first.

#5 put his hands behind his head heading towards were he was supposed to go. Things like this was just a pain for him. There was never a day where he can get a good rest.
In a couple of hours, #5 got to Cloud's old base. He looked at the broken down building, and scratched his head. He kicked a piece of crumbled cement. There was really nothing much to see here.

Jackyl stopped and sniffed a few times. Then, he looked over the edge of the wrecked building. A smile came across his face. "Well, well, well. If it isn't Bushido...how ya doin' Five?" He called down to the assasin. This mission was certianly turning out to be an interesting one.

#5 turned to look at #8. "Well, you and #13 caused some trouble.... and now it looks like I need to get my hands dirty. So I'll say I'm not doing that well." he answered. With his arms crossed, he leaned against one of the walls that was still standing. "Where's #13?" he asked with a small yawn.

Number Seven sifted through the dust, his eyes searching the ground for anything that could tell them anything about #13. His eyes glimmered, as he was focused on his task, ignoring his surroundings. Later, he would question any survivors as well. If that failed, they would have little to go on, but either putting the screws on #8, or guessing at where they would find #13. The only other alternative was to lay a trap for her. But who would be the bait? Number Seven's eyes drifted slowly to #8 -

- and his eyes fell on another Assasian.

#5 had arrived, late as always. He was now talking to #8. And he didn't seem amused. Number Seven knew that #5 had a way of speaking without thinking. And #8 had a way of killing without thinking. Together, those two were a dangerous combination. One that could become problematic for Cloud, and compromize the mission. That was, unless they cut each other down right then and there. But Assasians were above such, and Number Seven would not allow anything to compromize the mission - especially not the lunacy of #8, or the unpredictability of #5.

The Gunman approached the two. His voice was cold when he spoke.
"Leave. Now." He said to #8. His eyes then turned to the Samurai. "Where have you been?"

"Why, I was taking my everyday nap until someone told me about this mission. No need to tell #8 to leave. I was asking some questions." #5 answered with a stretched. #8 always seemed serious with his work. Well, he really didnt care since everyone was different in their own ways. Still, someone like himself and #7 would never really match. He put a hand in his pocket and looked up at the sky. "Find anything about #13?" he asked. To tell the truth, he really wasnt interested in this mission at all. #5 yawned once more, "I think I need another nap..." he mumbled quietly to himself.

#8 Grinned, his usual maniacal grin. "No, nothing yet. But, I'll find her and bring her in. It's that simple."