?Team One, status report??
?Command, there are no signs of target. Letters and other mail addressed to J. Preston. Repeat, Juliet. Tango on nothing found.?
The commander frowned and took a deep drag on his expensive cigar. ?Team one, any signs of the target??
?No, Sir. It looks to be the residence of a woman.?
Command sighed heavily. ?Fall back, Team One. Sussex Team, report.?
Static filled the line and for a moment he thought the expendable team had found their target, only to be let down when the voice came through.
?Command, this is Hitman, we have no contact. The only people at the Sussex Estate are hired help. Groundskeepers, Butlers, Maids??
?I know what hired help is, Hitman. No sign or indication that target has made contact??
?Sir, posing as friends of target we were able to ascertain that target has not been back in some time, well over six months.?
The headset was ripped off his head and thrown down on the desk, causing Spencer to cower back from the noise and sudden action. His dark eyes flicked to the smaller man backed into the corner and he shook his head. ?It seems Sin has fallen through our fingers again, Spence.?
The were-cat frowned at the name, but didn?t correct his owner at all. ?Sir, Spencer thinks that you would be wasting time to find him. Surely by now Sin?s skills have fallen as a gladiator, and the money spent on locating, extracting and putting him back into the rings would never be returned.?
The man known to most as simply, The Promoter, nodded to the cat-man. ?You could be right, Spence. But, if you aren?t can you imagine the fan?s reactions when we brought that son of a bitch back into the rings? Keep his identity secret until right before his fight and let them as well as his opponent see what?no, who is going to fight. The sound of the crowd would be heard to the moon and back. Crowds would double for the next fight, thinking that Sin has returned, even if he?s broken in his cage.?
?Broken, perhaps beyond repair.? Spencer added.
?You know as well as I do, that he could heal through anything quickly.?
?And as he?s aged, will he be able to do the same? Who knows what shape Sin is in now. We will not, until your expensive teams make contact or confirm visual ID.?
?I am hoping for a contact, personally.? The Promoter blew a column of blue-gray smoke toward his assistant. ?These are the highest paid, toughest mercs I could find. If anyone can check Sin?s ability it?s these men,? he took another deep drag and smiled as that too was blown toward the cat, which was politely trying to wave the smoke away. ?And if Sin kills them, I get the money back. Simply stop the transfers.?
?And then? You?ll hire another expendable team?? Spencer moved away from the cloud of lingering, stinking smoke while resisting the urge to sneeze and cough. ?Only so many mercenary teams will work for you as word grows of their losses.?
?Spence, you silly little man.? The Promoter laughed and reached out to slap the smaller man on the shoulder and nearly sent him sprawling to the floor. ?Then I hire Morlov again! He?s aching for a chance to capture Sin.?
Spencer shuddered with the thought of dealing with that man again. ?Perhaps another way?? Spencer moved to the computer and began tapping the keys while his boss watched.
?Spence, you are a twisted little man. No wonder I haven?t killed you yet.?
?Thank you, Sir.?
?Command, there are no signs of target. Letters and other mail addressed to J. Preston. Repeat, Juliet. Tango on nothing found.?
The commander frowned and took a deep drag on his expensive cigar. ?Team one, any signs of the target??
?No, Sir. It looks to be the residence of a woman.?
Command sighed heavily. ?Fall back, Team One. Sussex Team, report.?
Static filled the line and for a moment he thought the expendable team had found their target, only to be let down when the voice came through.
?Command, this is Hitman, we have no contact. The only people at the Sussex Estate are hired help. Groundskeepers, Butlers, Maids??
?I know what hired help is, Hitman. No sign or indication that target has made contact??
?Sir, posing as friends of target we were able to ascertain that target has not been back in some time, well over six months.?
The headset was ripped off his head and thrown down on the desk, causing Spencer to cower back from the noise and sudden action. His dark eyes flicked to the smaller man backed into the corner and he shook his head. ?It seems Sin has fallen through our fingers again, Spence.?
The were-cat frowned at the name, but didn?t correct his owner at all. ?Sir, Spencer thinks that you would be wasting time to find him. Surely by now Sin?s skills have fallen as a gladiator, and the money spent on locating, extracting and putting him back into the rings would never be returned.?
The man known to most as simply, The Promoter, nodded to the cat-man. ?You could be right, Spence. But, if you aren?t can you imagine the fan?s reactions when we brought that son of a bitch back into the rings? Keep his identity secret until right before his fight and let them as well as his opponent see what?no, who is going to fight. The sound of the crowd would be heard to the moon and back. Crowds would double for the next fight, thinking that Sin has returned, even if he?s broken in his cage.?
?Broken, perhaps beyond repair.? Spencer added.
?You know as well as I do, that he could heal through anything quickly.?
?And as he?s aged, will he be able to do the same? Who knows what shape Sin is in now. We will not, until your expensive teams make contact or confirm visual ID.?
?I am hoping for a contact, personally.? The Promoter blew a column of blue-gray smoke toward his assistant. ?These are the highest paid, toughest mercs I could find. If anyone can check Sin?s ability it?s these men,? he took another deep drag and smiled as that too was blown toward the cat, which was politely trying to wave the smoke away. ?And if Sin kills them, I get the money back. Simply stop the transfers.?
?And then? You?ll hire another expendable team?? Spencer moved away from the cloud of lingering, stinking smoke while resisting the urge to sneeze and cough. ?Only so many mercenary teams will work for you as word grows of their losses.?
?Spence, you silly little man.? The Promoter laughed and reached out to slap the smaller man on the shoulder and nearly sent him sprawling to the floor. ?Then I hire Morlov again! He?s aching for a chance to capture Sin.?
Spencer shuddered with the thought of dealing with that man again. ?Perhaps another way?? Spencer moved to the computer and began tapping the keys while his boss watched.
?Spence, you are a twisted little man. No wonder I haven?t killed you yet.?
?Thank you, Sir.?