My blades whistled through the air, twin points of death searching for an exposed vein or unguarded chest. Even in the murky gloom of the night, they gleamed wickedly, their silvery flashes being a man's last image before it disappeared into his heart. Soon I was surrounded by bodies who were either dead, or in too much agony to do much but writhe soundlessly. I surveyed the room, and confirmed that nobody would be getting up anytime soon. Although ironically, this is probably the time where I'm most vulnerable. Once I witnessed an agent who let his guard down, and was attacked by an apparently unconscious enemy. I had managed to silence the attacker, but not before my companion was injured. Well I suppose his toes weren't that important anyway.

I moved towards the target location now that the obstacles were safely eliminated, but I kept my blades out just in case. So far, the mission was going smoothly. The number of guards had been a little more than expected, but nothing that I couldn't handle. I glanced outside through the full length windows at the expanse of forest and woodland, stretching out beyond the horizon. The moon was waning tonight, and the sky was cloudy, but I managed to find the river winding its way through the dense foliage.

Confident about my escape route, I turned to the door and let my blades slide back into the vambraces on my arms. However I noticed the numerous locks on the door and frowned; this wasn't in the floor plan. They must have been a new addition by the owner of the villa, but unfortunately for him this last security measure had come too little, too late. Pulling out a set of wires I quickly crafted some crude picks, and within five minutes every single lock came undone.

Behind the door my ears registered several faint clicks. Immediately my instincts took over and I dropped to the floor as an explosion of gunfire blasted the door to bits, with splinters and dust floating down around me. Shutting out the racket I wondered if the people behind the door worried about hitting one of their own guards. Yet if they risked a bullet in a comrade, it must mean that they knew I was getting close. The target must be becoming desperate. As soon as the barrage of guns ceased, I stood up and moved the the side of what used to be the door. Even the hinges hadn't been spared, allowing the shattered pieces of wood to swing open.

I pulled out a Kel-Tec P-11 semi-automatic and mentally assessed my situation. Clearly I'd lost the element of surprise, and was outnumbered by about 6 guards, judging from the number of clicks I heard. I had to assume that they all carried automatic machine guns, possibly other weapons as well. The target was also likely to be armed, but I was counting on a life of luxury and arrogance to be useless in self-defence. Delaying no more, I breathed in and out slowly before stepping into the doorframe.

A second's delay allowed me to take out two of the guards on the left, before I ducked and rolled under the onslaught of bullets. I shot the third in the kneecap and another in the ankle, causing them to drop their guns and fall to the floor. Luckily there was plenty of cover for me due to the owner's lavish tastes in decor. Crouching beside a cream leather couch, I knew I didn't have much time before the last two guards grew impatient and started peppering the furniture. I grabbed a grenade off my belt and threw it in their general direction. Thick, black smoke obscured everything around it within an eight-foot radius. Silently I sprinted towards the coughing guards stumbling around and let one of my blades slide out. My mask protected me from the smoke, and I used the lack of visibility to slice the guards' throats in one fluid swing. The grenade's range didn't quite reach the where the target was sitting, but this could be an advantage for me, unless he started to wildly fire shots at the smoke.

Fortunately as I emerged from the black cloud, I saw that he was petrified in his ornate chair. The ruddy pink cheeks which I had seen in the photo were now pale, and his knuckles turned white as he gripped the arm of the chair with pudgy fingers. I could hardly see anything of the elaborate decorations on the chair, for he was so massive that he seemed to engulf it completely. His... mass looked like it was straining under the mahogany desk.

"Que voulez-vous?", he whispered.

"You know what I want," I answered in English.

"N-n-non! Je suis innocent! J-je ne sais rien!"

His upper lip wobbled, and he seemed to be on the verge of tears. Pressing himself back into the chair, he began to whimper helplessly. I advanced slowly, noticing the way his right hand crept under the desk.

"Oh, I think you know a lot of things I want to know."

I kept my voice in a smooth, even baritone, all the while observing that hand drawing something out from under the wood.

Moving swiftly I leapt onto the desk and brought the side of my hand down onto his wrist. He screamed in a surprisingly high pitched wail as his bones fractured and the pistol fell onto the floor.

"Well?", I asked, feigning nonchalance.

He stared up at me, breathing heavily and tears started to overflow from his wide, yellowing eyes. In between sobs he gasped in heavily accented English,

"You will... n-never g-g-get anyth-thing... from m-me... garçon..."

Slowly, my blade emerged and I held it up in front of him inches from his face. Tracing the deadly tip around his Adam's apple, I lowered my voice to a menacing hiss and looked straight at the terror in his eyes. They widened in recognition and a new light of hopelessness entered their depths.

"Vous ... vous êtes ... ces yeux -"

"I will get enough, I think. Now, shall we begin?"

 

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A/N Hey guys! SHINee haven't made their appearance yet, but they will do in the near future (;
For any language other than English, I'll be using italics. Also I'm sorry for any mistakes I've made... and probably will make ^^'
Constructive criticism is welcomed!