There is a secret organization, hidden from the eyes of the government and the citizens of the U.S. that kills anyone that is offered off at just the right amount, or anyone that is a threat. Criminals create to much chaos, businessmen and even people under witness protection programs have been targets. This organization trains its assassins to believe that what they are doing is for the good of the country, making things more safe and fair, as well as acting as population control. They are told that they are heroes the world can never know about for fear of judging them wrongly.
Two assassins were trained together, and had become very close friends. They even were assigned tasks together. However one of the men starts to feel like what they are doing is wrong, especially after they were assigned to kill an entire family with many young children. Their deaths weigh on his mind until he finally runs away from the organization and vows to stop them.
Running away from your task is a big no, and the organization seeks to kill him before anything about them is leaked or ruined. To no surprise, the assassin they sent to track him down is none other than his good friend from the organization who considers the runaway a heartless traitor now. What will become of the two?
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35 kph... 45.. 55.. 65.. 75...
Chase was on the run, his dark hair running amok against the wind. The street lights played over shadows, the hard ground playing rhythm against two wheels of Chase's midnight blue motorcycle. He knows Simon would engage pursuit and the thought of it played a smile on his lips. Between the two of them, one can't call himself the better or the lesser man. They were equals in everything they do, and that what made them invincible. A large of it was also because they were friends. As simple as that. Being the best of friends, understanding each other and providing support; All their successes were because of that. Because of the simple fact that every time they do a mission, the safety and the sake of the other was also at stake. There were no room for mistakes, and they both knew that a single wrong would cause interminable damage to the other. The analogy served its purpose, and before long, they were known to be an indestructible pair.
Now, that same indestructible pair had split up, and by the gods' playful game of fate, are out to take the other down. It made Chase chuckle. How much he'd pay to see the end of a coming showdown. If he means to destroy the organization, he must have no doubts on his determination. And that means, erasing Simon out of the picture. Chase took a custom-made gun from the side of his motorcycle, the wind was playing with him today, to his advantage. "Get ready Simon," he said, although he knew full well the other wouldn't be able to hear him. "No regrets."
Simon's fingers drummed impatiently on his helmet as he stared Chase down. In his mind, this did make him a hero. He would correct the wrongs of the world and... but, Chase used to do the same thing. They had been partners and friends and... No, that was the past. They were now enemies. Chase had disobeyed. He had betrayed the organization; his family. He had left Simon. He was now an ugly stain on the organization's charts. He had to be exterminated.
All Simon heard in this silent brooding was game. He perked up a little, with an eyebrow raised, right before Chase sped past him. The words "cat and mouse" caught in his ears and he smiled. He loved that game.
Without a second's hesitation, the helmet was back over his head and the motorcycle was speeding after Chase's. The motorcycle had more kick than it did months before, and was keeping up well with Chase.
thought Simon, teeth clenched with eagerness.
"Happy to see you smiling because of me, darling," Chase drawled. "I'm glad you've been spending your time thinking about me." The light teasing was back in Chase's voice. It was a bizarre thing seeing that he thought he already lost his capacity of humor ever since he thought about leaving the organization. Maybe it was freedom that brought it back. But then again, it
Simon lifted his hands and pulled the helmet off of his head. His smile was cruel, twisted. There was every ounce of bitterness and not a single hint of compassion.
"I'm well now that I have finally found you, Chase," commented Simon before licking at his lips hungrily. "I've spent every day since your disappearance just searching for you. I was given no missions but this one to give me all the time I needed to track you, Chase. All my hard work is going to pay off." Simon let out a tense and harsh chuckle. "It's all going to be worth it when I put a traitor to death." The smile melted and Simon's cold eyes locked with Chase's. "That's all you are now, Chase. A traitor."
There was no one there but ugly silence. But Chase knew that there's more to it than meets the eye. Assassins weren't trained to give their position and presence up. No, Chase knows better than that. That was why when the engine roared to life, his hands gripped the motorcycle handles in anticipation. He can feel the ominous time begin to tick, and he knows that something is bound to happen tonight. He was quite sure of it.
Chase was about to step on the accelerator when a motorcycle sped down the shop's driveway, blocking Chase's straight way out. The wind was starting to whistle in its tune, breezing by without any implications or warnings about the impending danger. It was a deceptively cool night too, but Chase can feel none of that. "Who is the organization sending?" he asked, a smile forming to those taunting lips. His mind was busy calculating at odds, his senses alert to the gnawing feeling inside him. It was safe to say that something in Chase's died upon hearing the voice of his would-be enemy.
"I don't suppose you're here to join me," Chase murmured, his eyes trained on the individual in front of him. "Simon." Simon was the organization picked up for him. He wanted to chuckle loudly in forlorn irony and a series of complicated feelings. But maybe it wasn't ironic at all. Yes, trust the organization to do something like that. Those cruel, self-centered, manipulative bastards who thought they own the world. It gave Chase more reason to destroy them, as he ascertain at how dirty they play a game. The organization is going to fall, crumble, and left as dust. Trace promised that to himself. "I trust you are well?" Trace looked at the other exits at the area, a wild chase wouldn't be such a bad idea.
**I am sorry for the wait Tamaki! T_T It won't happen again I promise.
Simon Carter held his breath as someone came into view. A closer look confirmed it was who he had been searching for; he finally had that traitor in his sights. He didn't take a second longer to get down the building using the fire escape and making his way to the dark narrow alleyway below, where his own motorcycle lay in wait.
The large black vehicle was Simon's trademark transportation. He had it fixed up and repainted since Chase left the organization, covering up the silver stripes it used to bear along its sides. He even painted over the silver stripe on the helmet. Now, the bike was an ominous solid black that caused many victims to fall to their knees in prayer just seeing it pull up in their driveways.
Simon crunched into the lollipop and devoured the whole thing in one second before tossing the stick aside. The roar of Chase's engine made him hop on his bike swiftly and slip the helmet on. He started counting off and keeping tabs of Chase's position in his head. When he felt the time was right, he brought his black beast to life and kicked it into action right away. He wanted to catch Chase before he sped away.
His timing was better than expected and he t-boned Chase's motorcycle as he tore out of the alley. He stopped his motorcycle with such force that he almost through himself over the handle bars.
His breathing was fast, excited... anticipating. He looked towards Chase and the motorcycle before revving his own a few times to make sure he had Chase's undivided attention.
"Long time, no see," he said loudly so he would be heard through the helmet and over the sound of the engine.
Chase McConnell, now known to the present world as Will Chandler, exited from the back door of the building named 'Riza's Pizzas.' He strolled to the parking lot, a box of pizza in one hand. Every Tuesday, Chase would buy a box of pizza for lunch right after work. 3 months well on the run from the assassins of the organization, Chase kept changing locations. He had landed a job in a sales and marketing company, enabling him to move and return back with certain quotas.
Forging data and procuring documents came with no hardships, especially having other people for connections who would do anything for money. He had obtained several different apartments, and kept moving back and forth every few weeks. With someone like him on the run, it'll be difficult to remain in one place in an indefinite time. He knew too much, and the organization wasn't about to let someone like him speak his knowledge. Although he was surprised not having seen any assassin on his trail for three long months, Chase knew that it'll only be a matter of time before the show starts. This time, he was quite sure that the mouse would do the chasing. He wasn't named 'Chase McConnell' for nothing.
Bringing down the organization had been on Chase's mind, and he dared not speak anything about that the night he walked out on Simon. He was quite sure that Simon wouldn't agree to come with him, but still, he gave his friend the benefit of the doubt. The only sad thing was, he was right, and Simon chose to stay, and be with the enemy.
A slight shift of the wind declared a nearby presence, and Chase was suddenly on the alert. He glanced up and saw no one. "Is it time?" he murmured out loud, before putting his motorcycle helmet on, and starting the engine. Yes, it would seem so.
Simon pondered Chase's question, but he was growing too upset to think straight. For some reason, he couldn't speak and couldn't give Chase a reason to stay. Chase walked out, and Simon could only look after him.
The night was undesirably cold. Simon only wore a thin black jacket that was only a little protection from the biting chill. Still, he didn't let it bother him so much. What was really bothering him was the sudden memory from months before, when his partner and friend had walked out on the organization. He had never seen him since then... but that was soon to change.
After Chase's betrayal was known throughout the organization, they sought to find and kill him. Simon remembered walking into the boss' office and demanding that he be in charge of tracking and "recovery" of Chase McConnell.
The man behind the desk smiled, very pleased with Simon volunteering. "I can allow that. We will also assign you another partner to-"
"No partners," interrupted Simon. "None. I want to do this alone. Chase is mine."
The man's smile grew in intensity. "Very well, Carter. Chase is all yours."
Simon had spend a long time trying to find Chase's whereabouts. He also spend a long time thinking about on answer to that question that Chase had left him with. Were children really as innocent as they looked? Simon had to decide on no...if their parents were a nuisance, they were raised in that way and were to. Sometimes, nuisances must be talking out before they show what a bother they are to the world.
He sucked restlessly on a chocolate pudding lollipop as he scanned the neighborhood below from a low rooftop. All his searching had led him here. Here, he would deal a justice to someone who he felt deserved punishment the most...
Chase was quiet, listening to Simon in a calm undisturbed manner. When the man had finished what he was saying, Chase opened his mouth to speak. "No. Listen to yourself," he told his friend. It can't be done. "If we are more than that," he asked, paused and sighed. "How can the world be better when killing children is involved, Simon? Tell me how that makes the world a whole lot better. Tell me why innocent sacrifices are to be made, and how those children are considered the impurities of the world. Tell me, explain to me, and I'll stop." The organization acts for their own selfish interest, and Chase knew that. It annihilates individuals that present constant threat to its structure and power. And Chase came upon that truth, long before the Dowling family's assassination.
Chase was on the way to get the their mission envelope, times, schedules, and location of targets, when he heard from Emma Wilson, subcontractor of their assignments, that the boss wanted a talk with him. Chase went to their usual location, and was about to enter the door when he heard the raucous laughter of the boss, promising to deliver a man's head on a silver platter. Chase didn't mind, until he heard the name. The name belonged to an individual that was currently advocating better work fares and conditions for workers. Chase knocked, thinking of the reason why a man like that should be up in the target list, and he asked when the conversation was over. Thinking that he was interested on having the target for himself, the boss replied, "Because this is a special favor from one of our colleagues. And that man is preventing workers in doing their damn job. I already gave the mission to Harrison, don't worry about it. Anyway, I wanted to talk to you..." That wasn't the first time he heard something like this, and every time he overhears these conversations, his mistrust for the organization grew, until Chase can't bear anymore. And it seems like his grievances were already full.
Chase stopped for a moment, and turned weary eyes to Simon. Not waiting for the explanation he'd asked, he started to walk away. "I'm out. Goodbye, Simon." With that, Chase walked away, leaving his friend's apartment for what he thought might be the last time.
Simon listened with growing anger. "Shut up!"
He stood up immediately, flinging the candy so hard upon the coffee's table top that it shattered into many fragments of sugar.
"Listen to yourself, Chase. You... You're speaking nonesense!"
He looked around, as if the organization was listening at this very moment, before looking back at Chase with fierce eyes.
"We are not pawns! We are more than that! How can you say anything wrong about them when they have given us this power to bring down the hammer of justice on those that deserve it! Those people die to make the world a better place, Chase. We're cleansing the impurities from the world." He laughed, with an almost mad expression on his face. They were gods. "Don't you want to keep that power? This status? Why give it up?" He softened a little and stepped closer to Chase with a smile. "Come on now. Stop talking like a crazy person. "Don't do this to yourself, okay? Just chill out."
Chase stood up, his right hand on his nape, massaging those strained back muscles. Trouble and betrayal is brewing, and Chase could feel it. As he feared, Simon didn't react with an inkling that showed that he had not even considered leaving the organization. And he couldn't fault his friend. The organization has been everything. It has always been right. Always been good. Until recently. When Chase found the 'good' sheet it was hiding under. Until Chase found some dark kept secrets. Actually, came along would have been a far better description, seeing that he came upon it accidentally.
Chase sighed, his eyes casted towards the direction of the night line from the classy apartment window. "We're not free Simon, none of us ever were." Chase started a slow pace, his glance went back to his partner, and on a silent plea those amber eyes said: 'Listen. Believe.' "It's not justice. It's never justice! Killing the organization's enemy may be justice. For them. It's a game of power Simon, and we're being used as pawns." Chase gritted his teeth, a hand brushing a few loose dark strands back. "We're supposed to be securing the future, Simon. Not killing them."
Chase stopped on his feet, closed his eyes and tried to vanish those wretched images etched in his memories. "Gods give life Simon. We take them." Suicide it is. Chase knew that one and true simple fact. "It's true that we have nothing else. But we can make our lives have something else." Amber eyes met his friend's, and with a serious tone, Chase McConeel murmured, "I'm considering out."
Simon stared at Chase like he was some kind of madman. What was his reason for asking such questions? He tried to ease his breathing by sticking the candy in his mouth again, but its taste was not as sweet as it was before. There was a hint of bitterness to it now because of the emotions overcoming him. First, and strongest of all, was anger. He was angry that Chase was even consider bringing up the question of leaving the organization that they came into together. They were an amazing team, known for their speed and talent when finishing an assignment. He couldn't comprehend why Chase would ask such a thing. Second, there was worry. What had possessed Chase to ask such questions? There were also mixtures of other emotions that Simon was having a hard time labeling.
He took the candy from his mouth again with a very deep frown on his face.
"What are you talking about? I am free. Free to bring justice to those that are due for some. There is nothing more free than being the Judge and the Grim Reaper." He let out a tense chuckle and tried to smile. He couldn't. "We're gods, Chase. We are gods! There is nothing more free than that."
He pointed to sucker at Chase and leaned a little closer. "We shouldn't even consider leaving any of that behind, Chase. You know it's suicide. Besides, It is what we do best. We've got nothing else."
They didn't really. Simon had no other family, the same as Chase. The organization was family in Simon's eyes; you don't betray your family.
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