Six Sided Sin, Chapter 1

Chapter 1: A Game of Minds,
a Game of Muscles, a Game of Mercenaries

         The wind flew around the dark, looming building that night, almost forcing the door behind him closed.  He fought to keep it from slamming, and succeeded, with a little effort.  He lowered his briefcase and opened it, to reveal his handmade, shiny, 0.42 pistol; fitted to his hand, a large and powerful hand used to punching.  It was lying in pieces, in the cotton lined case, right above the ammo and the large sniper rifle, capable of shooting 12” elephant rounds into a beetle more than a mile away.  This would be all his weapons for tonight, a small set, but it would be all he needed… so he thought.
         
         The darkness and the wind were his friends until he saw the shadows above him start to flutter.  He looked up, just in time to see a bright red glow and get a bullet between the eyes.  The mysterious man landed on the platform in the middle of the city.  He put up his silenced revolver; an eight-shot, pull hammer, shiny silver, rolling cartridge model.  He had coveted the revolver since his childhood.  He bent down and picked up the silenced pistol belonging to the, now dead, mercenary.  He checked the cartridge, three bullets left; that meant three dead bodies inside, he knew this would be a hard mission when he took it, but this was beyond anything he could have foreseen.
         
         He stopped for two minutes, staring off into the starry sky, then he lifted one gloved hand and removed the silencer on the revolver, he would not need to be quiet and he wouldn’t waste a good gun accessory.  He kicked open the door to gain access to the upper building.  He put on his game face, Sin is coming! he thought maliciously.  He started to walk through the hallways, knowing exactly where he was going.  It was a good time for the man named Sin to go to work, it was a good day to die.
         
         The first person to die was a guard, who just happened to be in the wrong building at the wrong time, Sin used the silenced pistol and put a bullet in his head. Time to hurry!  He started to move faster, pistol ready, left hand hanging near his own revolver.  The next person was a civilian, he knocked her unconscious from behind, not wanting any unnecessary blood on his gloves.  This certainly would be a hard assignment, three men he had to kill and all the guards to kill or get past on his way in, and out.
         
         
         Sin was turning the corner to his first objective, a hired gunman nicknamed Darkshot.  His reputation included the takedown of the entire Blood-Red gang, 33 men in an hour; the slaughter ended at midnight, hence his handle.  Sin had to take this man out fast, this could prove to be a problem in his current state.  Gotta change to Jonathan, he’d love this game!  HEY!  Johnny!  Wanna play?  Why do you need me now?
         
         The second voice came through like a banjo behind a glass wall, just able to work out that the accent was completely different from the Sin on the surface.  The Sin out now sounded southern and uneducated, the Sin inside had a smart, northern accent that was straight and to the point.  We got a fox hunt, three guys to black out and about twelve guards to dodge, a pistol in our hand, our revolver on our belt, and a black vest full of tricks.  Times running down fast, how ‘bout it, Johnny?  Sound like fun, don’t it?  Sure, just give me a second to prepare for our little hunt!
         
         The second voice was coming through louder now, and the first was starting to fade a little bit.  It was time to change!  Sin’s mind lit up, for a second all he could see was white light, then the hallway came back into focus… kind of.  The Sin on the surface now reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a pair of glasses.  Can‘t kill if I can’t see!  Wish George would have saved some time and done this himself!  But then again, I am talking about George! Not funny, and unless you wanna see your own head roll on the floor, you better shut up!
         
         Now George’s voice came in quiet and Jonathan’s voice was the loudest.  First of all, we have the same head, you imbecile!  he thought to George as he started to walk.  Secondly, our eyes are in our head, so I couldn’t see it anyway!  Shut up an’ do your job Johnny!  We ain’t got no time!  “There‘s always time.” He said out loud to emphasize his point, yet he started moving faster in spite of his own words.  His head started to ache while he gained new memories.  I’ve been out for too long!  Haven‘t had a head like this for about a year!  Damn this always hurts!
         
         He kept moving and watching while his head throbbed, then he spotted a group of guards turned the corner up ahead and he raised the pistol, he also reached for a grenade.  The first guard looked around to get a bullet in his temple, quick and easy kill spot.  The grenade came next, the other guards jumped back to try and run as Jonathan ran right past them, picking up the grenade that had not even been set to explode as he went, laughing.  The guards figured out what happened and started to follow just in time to step on a different grenade, and this one was set!

         Jonathan came back to that corner about fifteen seconds later, just time enough for any living guards to start running like chickens.  I’m too smart for my own good!  he jumped down the hole in the floor and landed right outside the room that his prey was supposed to be occupying.  Sin drew his own revolver and shot off the door handle to see if any bullets came back through the door.  When none did, he kicked the door in and fired a shot at the spot he had calculated for the lights.  His calculation was correct, and the room went black as the door bounced off the wall and closed again.
         
         “What‘s the matter, Darkshot?  I thought you liked to kill in the dark.”  he mocked as he heard the mercenary inside scrambling, desperately to find where his stalker was.  Sin heard a shot go off somewhere near the bedroom of Darkshot’s  current residence.  Sin pointed and fired, through the wall, at his spot again.  His aim was not to kill Darkshot, just to scare him; but he heard the grunt and angry shouts of a wounded man, not mortally wounded though.
         
         Sin heard more shots fired from inside, coming closer to the door.  This was exactly what Sin wanted, Darkshot now thought that Sin was somewhere inside of the room, when he was waiting out in the hall.  The door came open and Darkshot got shot, right in his kidney.  “Holy mother of Christ, YOU SON OF A BITCH!  Ah, damn you!  Who do you think you are, to think you could trick me?”  Darkshot was pissed and scared, and that was what Jonathan wanted.  He had also dropped his 9 mm pistol when his kidney had started bleeding, and he had lost control of his bowels it seemed.
         
         “The name is Jonathan Dolandin.  But you probably know us as ‘Six Sided Sin’!”  Jonathan could see the recognition and fear dawn, on the face of Darkshot.  “You‘ve killed many innocent people in your life, Darkshot.  Committed many sins, but now you know that Sin caught up to you!  Goodbye, asshole!”  Darkshot tried to crawl away, but he got a bullet in his spine, right under the nape of his neck.  “Now lay there and bleed to death like a good little boy!  While you‘re at it, you might want to try praying, then maybe you can keep from seeing me again in Hell!”
         
         His first target down, Jonathan walked away to hunt his next victim, the woman nicknamed, Crimson.  Her name was earned when she was arrested after her first job.  She was covered in blood when they found her lying in a back alley, laughing.  She went insane shortly after, and now she is a notorious gun for hire with two personalities, one sane, the other...  She was deadly because of her insanity, but no one was crazier than Six Sided Sin!  The skyscraper had a large bar in the lower level and had a very large space upstairs that had twenty rooms for rent per floor, mostly only people who worked at night and preferred privacy rented the rooms.  This was ideal for Sin to hunt here at night.  Only two more mercenaries to black out.
         
         He came across more guards, standing outside the room of Crimson, not a good thing.  He had to take them out without alerting his prey, but he didn’t have the time to do it.  Time for a little ingenuity!  Let’s see…  He stood thinking for more than eight minutes debating tactics, That should take out two of the guards, but the third could still warn her!  That’s when another guard came around the corner behind him.  He heard the guard before he saw him.  He drew on instinct, without even thinking about it he raised the gun to the guards head, then he stopped to think.  “Hey, buddy!  Want to get a reward?  Hehehehehe!”
         
         The other guards were teasing the newbie about how he would never see any action if he stood in one place all night.  Then they saw another guard come running around the corner, screaming “He‘s around that corner!” he pointed at the corner where he had just run from, he pointed to the other end of the hall, “Stop him!”  He was hysterical, he was so scared he had forgotten that he had his own gun on his belt, he was near crying when they first saw him, and when he crouched down next to the door, he wept.  The other guards, suddenly alert, immediately sprang into action, running towards the corner the guard had come from.
         
         The new guard stayed to console the crying man, but he wasn’t crying anymore, he was laughing now.  The last guard stepped over to see what was funny, and he saw it right before it buried itself in his throat.  The shiny, pearl-handled knife was a real riot when it was all Sin needed to get to his target… the knife and a couple of thin wires, mercenaries called it blade-line wire.  So small it could cut through metal and so easy to set up when you have the gloves, it was no wonder Jonathan preferred to use it as a silent trap.
         
         The guards ran around the corner so fast that they both had their feet lopped off by blade-line wire, and as they fell their vocal cords were sliced by more wire.  They bled to death in silence, watching another guard, naked except for his underwear, struggle against his own blade-line trap.  The naked guard was trying to reach a single line of the wire, a line that was placed so he could kill himself swiftly.  That was the gift Jonathan gave to him in exchange for his clothes.  For the others it was a slow and excruciating death, that was what Jonathan preferred.
         
         The razor wire had been set up on both sides of the hall, creating a barricade for Jonathan to work unhindered.  He had barely been able to get through himself, and he had set it up.  He would have to cut the wire to get back out, but that was okay, he only needed it for a few more minutes.  He decided on a hunting path and got ready to carry it out when he ran into a fallen tree.  Jonathan often used these kinds of metaphors to describe his situations, in this case it meant that he had a plan but he had run into a problem in carrying it out.  Crimson came out of her room, carrying a semi-auto in one hand and a knife in the other!
         
         “Where are the other guards?”  She immediately realized the missing pieces from her protection.
         
         “He came by earlier, the others chased him, they asked me to stay here until more protection arrives.”  Thankfully the door opened in just the right fashion to cover up the dying guard behind.  He was so ecstatic that his plan was not falling apart he found it hard to keep a straight face, but he just barely managed.
         
         “What is their ETA?”  This girl doesn’t miss a beat!  Two minutes!
         
         “The others said that they should be up here in two minutes or less.  Is that satisfactory ma‘am?”  He almost smiled, yet again, at his own luckiness.  She looked like she expected about two minutes from the lazy guards around here.
         
         “Sounds about right.  Would you mind if I stood out here too?”  Uh-oh, there was another tree about to fall, this one was pretty big too.
         
         “That wouldn‘t be very advisory ma‘am.  If he comes back he would have an immediate clear shot at you, I‘ve been told not to slack off one bit.  He‘s supposed to be good, but I think they‘re overreacting.  It‘s just one man!”  He didn’t like talking down about himself, but he saw it as a necessary sacrifice.  Then he saw her face…
         
         “You obviously don‘t know much about who this is.”  Her face suddenly set in stone, her mouth drawn thin and taught in worry.
         
         “Does it really matter?  It‘s one man, with your guards, and you packing heat like that…”  he motioned at her semi-automatic pistol, a very large and extravagant model, painted red.  “You should…”  he slowed down, to get her attention away from her own gun, “…die!” He grabbed the hand that held her gun and twisted, drawing his own revolver, shooting her other arm to immobilize both her weapons.  “Got you, you retarded bitch!”
         
         He turned her head so she could see the bleeding guard behind the door.  She had not screamed, she was too conditioned for that, but the dying man threw her into a limp state.  She fell to one knee, Jonathan became alert, this was bad.  She was changing to her other personality, the one that earned the name Crimson.  She jerked violently as her memories came back, she was not jerking out of pain, it was too calculated for that.  She was trying to scare him or get away, he gripped tighter, making her arm useless.
         
         “Trying to throw me by changing won‘t work.  I‘m not just another mercenary that you scare into killing themselves, Crimson!  I‘m Six Sided Sin!  I earned that name and I‘ve worn it proudly for fifteen years!  I‘m like you, only I‘m crazier than you‘ve ever dreamed you were.  I‘ve got six people in here and every one of us is screaming for your blood!”  she stopped trying to squirm and started listening now.  “You can decide if I’m crazy or not if you live that long, but I do know that I’m the smartest mercenary that you’ll ever meet, mostly because you won’t live to meet anyone else.  Goodbye, Crimson.  I thought you might like a story before I tuck you in for your permanent bedtime!”
         
         He ripped the gun out of her hand and the jerk on the gun woke her up.  She yanked out of his grip and ran from him, towards the opposite end from the dying guards.  He fired after her, just to scare her and keep her running.  She turned the corner, and he smiled; she ran into the blade-line wire, cutting herself to pieces; her legs came off, right before her head.  He followed slowly, still smiling, “It must take real dedication to get that stupid.  They say that you have ten seconds before you die if you‘re decapitated, so I‘d just like to say that you did not live up to your reputation as a hunter.  The second the tables turned, you flipped out, lost your head, and then… well you really lost your head.  I said it earlier, I earned my title through hard work.  See you in Hell.”  He pulled out his gloves and began remove the wire so he could take out the last quarry of the day.
         
         The last leg of a hunt is always the hardest, this was going to be especially true when he had to go head to head with the leader of the notorious three man group of mercenaries, aptly dubbed The Demons.  With two down and one to go, the leader would be on edge, watching for anything suspicious.  Nicknamed Broken Soul, he was one of the most deadly mercenaries ever heard of, this was not luck, he was literally that good, and Sin would have to take him out.  First he had to change clothes, the guard uniform was covered in blood, he would be killed on sight, if he wore this.  Broken Souls guards had probably been warned that he might try to take a disguise, this one was too obvious.
         
         He changed back into his own clothes, a black T-shirt, black pants, and a long black coat that had flames outlined in shining silver and jade dragons glowing dark blue.  He loved this coat, it was a memento from his most dangerous job so far.  A slaughter, he had been hired to take out a thirty-five man cell of blade wielders.  He had to take a crash course in fighting with swords when his gun had been cut to pieces, about half way through the job.  He had stolen a blade from a dead carcass and had been very sorry he did not have time to change personalities, very hard to do during a fight.  He had come out extremely lucky, his instincts were good enough to keep his head and he got them to follow him into a trap.  He led them into a narrow ravine and took them out one-by-one, hard, but not as hard as fighting them all at once.  Their leader had not followed him and he had to come out to kill him, Sin was able to fight good enough to only get one arm almost severed before pushing the leader onto a mine, planted earlier.
         
         The coat had been blown off the body of the leader by the blast, and came down out of the sky without a scratch on it.  It landed right in Sins hands, a well earned bonus to the fourteen-thousand kachen reward for a job well done.  He had also been able to weasel his way into getting his contractor to pay for his medical bill, that had been one of his finest jobs so far.  This one however was one of the most botched, sure he was on top now, but he was the hunted now; he had taken down the strays and now he needed to destroy the rest of the pack, but they were going to be ready for him and would probably jump on top of him as soon as he was spotted.  He needed to get back on top and become the hunter to complete the last leg of this hunt.  He was wondering who could do the job best when he heard the voices through the wall separating the hallway.
         
         Slate!  I think you’re the one best suited to this one.  What do you want now, Johnny?  First of all I want you to stop calling me Johnny, my name is Jonathan, and I’d thank you to remember it.  Second we have a problem, some other dogs’ are on the same trail, and they look prickly as porcupines.  Stop that gibberish, you ain’t in the woods…  I hope, so stop talking ‘bout animals, you idiot!  I’m sorry, old habits die hard.  Three other mercs are over on the other side of this wall, I heard them talking about taking out our boy.  I thought you might wanna take this, they sound like veterans though, so I don’t know if you’re the best option.  I don’t care, I’ll kill them if you’ll stop talking about porcupines and dandelions, we packing my babies?  Always, the sword’s under the vest, the shorter one.  My wakazashi, at least you guys didn’t try to bring the katana, the wakazashi is best for indoor fighting.  I know; the tonfa are on the lower rungs on each side, your knives are in their usual pouches and the rest have our gadgets in usual order, the bomb powder has been replaced by the blade-line though.  Got it, so why are you telling me this when I’m gonna know it anyways?  Sorry, explaining is another old habit, especially when I’m talking to idiots.  Keep it up pretty boy, maybe I won’t help you out next time.  Let’s switch already.  No problem.
         
         “Feels good to be back!”  Slate now had control, “No it doesn‘t!” he contradicted himself as his head started hurting.  “I‘ve been out for about a month…  shoulda’ figured… Damn!”  his nose started to bleed as he found the turn that would place him on the same hallway as the other mercenaries.  He gritted his teeth and prepared for the fight, Maybe street fighting will be enough for these guys.  He pulled his wakazishi, a smaller version of his infamous katana “Blackblood,” Sin had used it since the fight where he had won his coat.  He had figured he had better learn to use a sword just in case, then Slate had joined the group and there was no need for anyone to learn anymore.  Slate was a master of melee weapons, he didn’t appear very often but when he did the scene turned very bloody, very fast.  Let’s do this.  he shrugged off the coat as he popped a couple joints.
         
         He charged down the hall holding his sword behind him, when he saw the other mercenaries he knew this would be intense.  He didn‘t scream, that was for stupid action heroes.  Two of them had melee weapons with them, the other had so many guns that Sin didn’t know how he could carry them.  They saw him coming and the one carrying guns immediately jumped behind the other two and pulled two automatics at him.  The other two got on either side of him, one pulled a staff off his back, the other opted to wield a pair of nunchuka.  Slate saw the gun man, shorter that the other two, pull the triggers and he immediately changed course towards the left wall and the nunchuk wielder.  The man threw a nunchuk low and tried to trip Sin before he got into range, Slate jumped and planted his feet on the wall right next to him.
         
         He tried to cut the mans arm, but the sword got parried by a smack from the remaining nunchuka, so Slate kicked off the wall, still holding his momentum.  He aimed for the staff wielder and spun to add power to his strike, the staff came up with a thrust that made the very end of the staff collide with the right side of the sword.  Sin kicked out and rolled the other way and tried to slice the staff wielder across the chest, but he caught the middle of the staff instead, cleaving deep into the wood, his sword stuck just long enough for the man to rip it form his grasp and send it flying across the hall with one pull.  Slate had pulled his twin tonfa before he had even landed, the man with the guns had fired and missed for a quarter minute now, Sin decided to give him a better target, he dropped, curled into a ball, and rolled toward him.
         
         He got a shot in his left arm, but he kept rolling, and when he stopped right in front of the man he got hit hard with the butt of a gun.  Sin was used to pain, the hit didn’t even phase him; the other man, Slate soon learned, was not as accustomed to pain.  A spinning tonfa hitting hard between the legs brought the gun man to his knees, and another to the jaw, as Slate jumped off the ground, sent him sprawling.
         
         He turned in the air and landed facing the two advancing mercenaries, he started spinning his tonfa and dropped into his stance.  The staff wielder reached him first and a song of wood hitting wood sang through the hallway.  Sin was trying to smack the man at any angle, anywhere, but he was good enough to use both ends of his staff at once to keep the tonfa at bay.  Finally the other man stepped up beside Sin and tried to hit him with his remaining nunchuka, Slate sidestepped and blocked the staff.  A second later the staff was striking at him, a knife came from the nunchuk wielder at his arm.  Slate pulled back, but felt the cold steel bite deep into him anyway, he used the opportunity to throw the tonfa in that hand at the staff wielder, he slapped it away with ease.  Slate pulled his arm away from the blade and spun to smack the man across the head, but he had ducked.  The nunchuka flew up with force that would surely knock Sin out cold.  The nunchuka never reached him however; the man stopped and stared in astonishment at the knife that had sliced the string of his nunchuka, then he got a tonfa across the face that broke his head open.  Bloody.
         
         The staff wielder charged hard, keeping Slates’ last tonfa along his arm to protect it as he slid it in the way of attack after attack.  The man kept him on his toes and away from any offense he might try to build, until Slate saw an opening, he ducked a swing at his side instead of blocking, the man put too much force into the attack and both ends of the staff soared over Slates’ head, he kicked off the ground and leapt behind the man as the backswing came at him.  He rolled until he thought he was far enough away, he stood up and kicked his other tonfa at the man at the same time he threw both his knife and the tonfa he still held at him.  The man had a hard time blocking one weapon after the other, but he managed to kick one tonfa, block the other and catch the knife in his staff.  He had made one mistake while he blocked the three deadly weapons, he had taken his eyes off Sin.  The man looked ahead to see Slate charging at him with his retrieved wakazishi, his eyes widened as Sins eyes flashed with triumph.  The man instinctively lifted his staff in the way of the sword, his last defense…  The strike landed in the same cut from before, the blade cleaved the staff in two with ease and carried through the mans’ stomach as well, spilling blood all over the carpeted floors.
         
         That’s finished, thanks for the workout guys.  I’m done warming up, time for the big kill.  He went back the way he had come to pick up his coat and his weapons, the mercenaries lay on the ground, one was unconscious and he didn’t want a chase later.  He slit his throat casual as ever, Sorry, buddy, wrong place, wrong time, wrong merc.  He walked to the other end of the hall and stopped to try and figure out where he needed to go to find his next victim.  Can I come out to play?  Collin?  I’m just warming up.  I’m bored in here.  I want to feel the blood.  You’re insane, how many times have I told you that now?  Too many.  Can I come out or not?  Can I say “no”?  Not if you want to live much longer.  Thought so, you’re also an asshole.  Too true, now let me out.  I wanted this one.  Fine, you get the next big kill.  I’m not letting you out this time, I’ll talk to you later.  They never let me out.  Most of them aren’t idiots, remember last time?  Which last time?  The one where I ripped off his head, or the time on the building?  Both.  You’re not nice.  I know, but I gotta go kill a guy who deserves it.  Like you don’t.  Oh, I never said that.  He started moving down the hall to his left, Broken Souls’ room was about ten minutes from here at walking pace.
         
         He knew he had to move fast, Jonathan had told him that too many times now, so he nearly ran as he headed towards his final hit of the night.  He was more than halfway there when he heard the grinding noise that signaled the patrol cars were coming, the remaining guards must have called them, but he still had time.  Patrols were idiots in midnight-blue suits and bulletproof glass helmets wishing that someday they would be as good as the Black Guards that handled all large scale criminal activity in the area they scouted, these guys couldn’t stop him, but they might slow him down long enough for the Blacks to arrive and he couldn’t hope to win against too many of them.  He sped up and slashed a guards throat without ever slowing, he had to get there fast, the patrols would protect Broken Soul until they had him in custody, he couldn’t let them get to his mark.
         
         He moved as fast as he could, cutting down another guard and even a civilian in his haste, he knew Jonathan would chew him out later for that, but he had to kill him or slow to knock him out the harmless way.  He was about one minute from Broken Souls room when he saw his first patrol, he had his standard electric stick, usually just called an E.S. and a soft-shot gun with stun bullets loaded.  Slate had his tonfa out in a second and he leapt at the patrolman, swinging down hard at his shiny helmet.  The patrolman managed to touch his left arm with his ES before he went down, Sins arm went numb and nearly useless.  Damn you, I don’t have time for this!  The accelerator should fix that.  I know that, Jonathan, but it still takes time!  he reached into one of the many pouches on his vest and pulled out a syringe, filled with an adrenaline inducing drug named endropaline, commonly known as the accelerator because it caused all the functions in the injection site to speed up rapidly.  He stuck himself and forced the plunger down, the drug took a little bit to start working its way through the bloodstream, so in the meantime he started moving again.  He only had one more shot of accelerator and he didn’t want to have to use it, so he decided he had better move to someone who could snipe these fools. 
         
         George!  Your trigger finger workin’?  Yeah, let me outta here and I’ll blow their heads off.  Cocky?  No, just cocked, locked, and loaded.  Funny.  I know.  That was sarcasm.  Who the hell is that?  You retard… forget it, you wouldn’t understand.  Whatever, just let me out.  Alright, just don’t die.  Sin switched personalities once again.  “D’you forget?  I’m already dead.”  George made quick time getting down the halls, trying to avoid any more patrols.  His tactic, basically consisting of running toward his target in a zigzag pattern, kept him out of sight until he was almost there… almost.  A couple of patrols were rounding the corner going away from him, towards Broken Soul.  One patrol got a bullet in the nape of his neck; the other, hearing the shot, turned around and the second bullet missed as George was charging.  He moved like lightning down the hall, the patrol didn’t even have his ES in his hand by the time he was within striking range.  He paid for that mistake dearly, George slammed a fist of steel through the bulletproof two-way mirror that made up the patrol helmets visor, he heard the satisfying crunch that meant the glass had shattered.  He pulled his hand out to inspect the damage, he was bleeding profusely, but he could still hold a gun and make a fist so he decided his wounds could wait to be treated.
         
         He was two halls down from his target when he saw a shadow slide across the hallway intersection, he decided to follow when he heard screams coming from around the corner.  The shadow proved to be a man in all black, a blue wraith writhing in agony was sewn into the back of his vest, the man had jet-black hair, and a straight scar winding around his left arm.  He had found Broken Soul, but he was running and killing patrols, George had to slow him down or else he wouldn’t catch up, he tried to plant a bullet in his calf, but he missed and only managed to get his attention.  Jonathan! Let me out.  NOW! George tried to let Jonathan out, but Broken Soul was in front of him faster than he would have believed humanly possible, George was knocked across the hall like he was a rag doll.  He screamed in agony as he landed on a shattered patrol helm, “Fucking bitch!”

         “Wrong, merc;  call me Broken Soul.”  his humor was lost on George who was too busy trying to pry glass and metal out of his back to hear what he said.  “You here to kill me too?  You‘ll die just like everyone else.”  George had rolled over and was pulling an extra large shard of metal, dripping blood, out of his back.  “Let me help.”  Broken Soul stepped over and kicked the piece deeper into his back, Sin screamed again.  “Oh, sorry.”  He kicked the piece out at an odd angle the made it cut to the side, but at least it was out.
         
         “DAMMIT!”  Sin yelled, “I‘ll take you out like I took out your friends!”
         
         “Crimson did not escape, how unfortunate, I was so hoping to see if she was an animal in bed as well.  Ah, but the best made plans, they always go awry.”  His voice dripped icy courtesy and wit that made George furious, he thought he was trying to make him sound inferior by talking when he should be fighting.  Slate can you take a little pain?  How much is a little?  Too much.  That doesn’t tell me shit.  You got a lot of glass and metal cutting your back to ribbons.  Damn, that sounds so pleasant the way you say it.  I should be able to fight when I get used to the pain, keep him talking long enough for me to get out.  I HATE talkin’ ta’ trash like this motherfucker.
         
         “I took out your buddy Darkshot too.  He was easy, three tricks and he was on his knees repentin’ for his sins and beggin’ for forgiveness.  If he‘s lucky he got inna’ Heaven so he won‘t have to see me again in Hell.”
         
         “Who told you, you could speak?”  He kicked Sin in the side, rolling him back over onto his back and knives went through his insides as he rolled back over, but he did not scream this time, he was getting used to the pain.  Get ready Slate.  I’m already ready.  “I didn’t expect that fool boy to make it out of here alive anyway, he was a pawn, and all pawns are disposable; there are those rare few who get to the other side of the board and become something greater, but Darkshot would never be one of those.” His voice slid from detached interest to a deep uncaring as he lost interest in explaining his motives, but it had bought Sin some time.  George started to slide away, but Darkshot decided to end the conversation quick and kicked Sin in his side… hard, rolling him down the hallway.  By the time Slate stood up Broken Soul was out of sight, but the patrolmen weren’t; Slate’s wakazashi flashed twelve times before it was sheathed again, Slate stood and watched the four patrolmen fall to the floor spewing almost as much blood as Slate was himself.  Sin was pissed, and he was going to let everyone know it.
         
         Sin was about to show these patrolmen why he had never been caught, even by the Black Guard.  He rehashed his knowledge of the building to find out the most probable place for patrols.  He came up with three surefire spots, “Let‘s go kick some ass.”  He headed down to the nearest of his three targets, the main court on this floor, wondering how many would come if one called for backup.  He got two hallways from his destination when the hunt began, a single patrolman was staring right at him and reaching for his communicator.  His hand didn’t get halfway to the belt that held the communicator before three shiny shuriken, ninja throwing stars, penetrated him.  One ended up right in his throat, the other two landed in his chest, there were no screams.

         Sin rounded the corner ready for anything, even the fist flying at him as soon as he came into view.  The hand was caught, and Sin broke the mans elbow and kicked him to the floor to writhe in pain and walked away to deal with the seventeen other patrols here.  Blood was trailing the enraged mercenary as he stepped into view of all the patrols.  “Let‘s dance motherfuckers.”  The patrols charged at Sin, the worst mistake of their lives, three of them were on the ground screaming before any of them got close enough to strike.  Four more went down as their knees were sliced open and one got a wakazashi in the chest, then Slate pulled out his tonfa and got ready to take down the rest.  LET ME OUT!  I don’t have time for this Collin!  A patrolman pulled his ES and tried to hit Slate, he got a glare from those cold dark eyes as a tonfa came up to meet that blow, the other tonfa followed up, a spear running alongside Sins hand, and caught the patrol right under the jaw.

         Blood spewed as the other patrols all moved at once, Slate became a blur, the tonfa started spinning and seemed to never stop.  Sin was sliding around in between the patrols with the fluid grace of a dancer and the precise deadliness that only a mercenary of his caliber could wield.  The helmets protected their heads, the armor protected their bodies.  Sins' tonfa hit home so hard on each blow that glass shattered, metal bent and tore, and flesh was nearly destroyed.  Slate’s eyes were wide with the gaze of battle, watching every movement anything made and judging, always calculating when and where to move, his body never missed a beat and his tonfa never missed a target.  All of them might as well have been dead, but Sin was pissed off, so they each got an extra kick, and one got a flying knee in the face through the helmet, then Slate finally let them all fall down as he sheathed his blood coated tonfa.  They were cracked in several places, but they would still last a while.
         
         Slate decided he’d better clean up his mess, he walked around the room and slit the throats of all the patrolmen, making sure they were all dead.  Then he decided his hate had been satiated enough that he would leave, he walked down a hall to the nearest window, the fire escape, so simple the patrols would be swarming it.  His kind of exit, Slate decided he didn’t want the helm anymore, George was pissed too, maybe he should take this.  Let me out!  Beg pretty please, Collin.  Fuck you!  I want to feel the blood!  Too bad, so sad; it’s George’s turn.  Asshole.  I should kill you.  I’d tell you to try if I didn’t think you actually would kill yourself to get me.  So I’ll just say goodbye.  Damn you!  Slate slid out and George took his place, his eyes were feral… his hand was on his revolver, his mind was on the patrolmen, and his body was hyped on anger.  “Sorry you have to die.” he spoke to the wind while climbing out on the fourth story and looking down then up to see how many there were.  He saw there were more below than above, but either way the place was swarming, “This‘ll be fun.”
         
         The first patrol to see George was below him, he tried to alert his fellow members, but George was already moving up.  “Let‘s roll.”  Two patrolmen went down before George even got up to the next floor.  Another was knocked over the railings and fell to his death, George was working as fast as he could, a soft-shot gun fired from below, but the wind got to it and it missed by a yard.  It was answered by George’s revolver, much more powerful and George had already compensated for the wind, the retort was short and sweet, the girl had been hit right in the helmet.  Three more shots from above and one of them almost hit the mark, George was starting to rethink this, but he had started it and he was gonna finish it.  He took down two more above and one more below, then he had to reload, he flicked the revolver open and rolled to place himself next to the wall for cover.

         It took him all of two seconds to reload and then he was back out blasting those too high up for him to hit with his fists, those few close enough were thrown or bludgeoned to death.  George was starting to run out of breath, but he persisted, he kept the pace until he was four more floors up, three floors from the top where he started.  Here he allowed himself a pause to grit his teeth against the pain and blood-loss, then he decided there were few enough up and those below were chasing him and stretching their ranks out enough, he turned his attention downward.  Two floors down there were two patrolmen coming up the next flight, he leaped over the railing, relying on the wind, pushing against the building on this side, to catch him, he was saved by the wind and his hand latching onto the rails two floors below.  He caught the patrols by surprise and knocked them over the ledge, only luck had saved him from their bullets as he came down, but luck left him when the next patrol came up the steps.  A bullet in the shoulder was traded for the mans’ life, Sin decided he got off easy and jumped down the stairs flight after flight knocking anyone in his way off the fire escape.
         
         The occasional shot from above reminded George to keep up his pace or else they might have time to aim, he made it five stories from the bottom when he saw something he had not expected, his target!  Broken Soul was three floors down and moving fast, George decided he wouldn’t catch up without slowing him down, he fired a shot right past Broken Soul.  The wraith writhed in the wind when the mercenary stopped, he knew the difference between a standard issue soft-shot pistol and a hand crafted revolver with a three lb. kick.  Sin didn’t wait for him to turn, though he wouldn’t have to wait more than a second anyway, he leapt over the rails again, this time catching the floor on the level above Broken Soul.  Unfortunately Broken Soul had excellent reflexes, he saw the kick coming, but did not have time to notice a change in Sins’ eyes as he flew at the wall.  George stepped out when he jumped down, Jonathan had taken the wheel.

         Broken soul watched as he thought Sin would crash horribly, Jonathan however had other ideas, he kicked off the wall at the last second and leapt at Broken Soul.  Broken Soul sidestepped and got clear of  Sin, for that attack, Jonathan had planned a way to keep this going for up to three minutes, but didn’t have to.  As he flew past his target he grabbed the railings and held tight as his body flew out into open air; then, right when his arm was stretched out completely and Broken Soul had started moving again, he pulled as hard as he could.  His right arm flailed behind him as his body swung around, still holding all his force, and his knee landed right in the center of Broken Souls’ stomach, knocking him backwards.
         
         Broken Soul had been knocked into the wall, and Jonathan intended to finish this now, he pulled the revolver and locked his target.  Now Broken Soul had other ideas, his hand lashed out and knocked the revolver aside,  his foot came up and caught Sin right in the chest; Jonathan almost lost balance, but he managed to catch the railing to keep from falling.  Broken Soul charged and tried to knock Sin over the edge, Jonathan saw him coming and leaned back, lifted both feet and drove them into Broken Souls’ chest, he spotted his revolver thrown near the edge of the platform.  Broken Soul was thrown back again, all his icy courtesy gone and replaced by pure rage, the same rage that Sin had coursing through his veins; now it came down to who had the stronger will, and Sins’ will seemed to be leaking out along with his blood and strength, he had to finish this or be finished.

         Jonathan leapt into Broken Soul when he came away from the wall, essentially tackling him back into it, and started a bloody brawl.  Jonathan of course had the upper hand, being able to maneuver more easily, but every time he missed his fist struck solid brick.  The fight raged until Broken Soul decided he’d had enough and tried to leap past Jonathan to get the revolver, surprised, Jonathan didn’t get in the way.  Broken Soul had the gun aimed before Jonathan turned around, but Jonathan looked calm and cool, “This fight is over, buddy.”  Blood was dripping from Sins’ mouth as he said this staring at Broken Soul, who looked defiant and unwilling to believe that Jonathan still had an ace in the hole after all he’d had to go through to get here.
         
         “Not while I hold this gun, now step back before I put a bullet through your skull.”  Sin stayed right where he was staring coldly at his prey, now it was his turn to be courteous.  “I said STEP BACK!”

         “I don‘t think you‘ll be able to put a bullet through anything with that gun right now, it seems to be out of them.”  He said calm and collected, reading his adversaries eyes to see what he thought of that.

         “You wouldn‘t have aimed this at me without a bullet in the chamber, nice try but your bluff is over!”  he pulled the hammer down and squeezed the trigger harder than necessary and nothing came out of the gun.

         “Fool.”  Sin kicked the mans’ hand and sent the revolver flying straight up, Broken Soul watched his whole life fly away with it.  “I opened the cartridge when you knocked it out of my hand.”  Jonathan stepped forward and threw a right straight shot that would have made  any professional boxer jealous, Broken Soul flew over the rails as most of the cartilage and bone in his face shattered and crunched in like a bloody crater, his whole existence was finished with one blow and a short fall that broke his neck and spewed blood for yards around him.  Jonathan put his glasses on as fast as he could, Guess I can kill without them, but it’s not easy, and caught the revolver as it fell down past him.  The rest of the Patrolmen had fled when they saw both of the mercenaries coming down at the same time, and they had no intention of going back out into the fire-escape-turned-death-trap; that suited Sin just fine right now, he would walk away battered and bloody, but at least he walked away with his job completed and a paycheck on the way.