Noir Fan Fiction / Gunslinger Girl Fan Fiction ❯ Cutting Diamonds ❯ Cutting Diamonds ( Chapter 1 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Cutting Diamonds

By: A-Z Mark II

Disclaimer: you know it by now.

"So, it is a personal favor this time, then?" came the voice of the man near the head of the table. In a minimally-lit conference room in a secluded training/living compound, the head of Section 2 and his agents were assembled for a briefing. Along with the key Fratello heads - Jean, Giuseppe, Lauro and Hillshire - there were the support staff for the teams. Jean sounded like he didn't care for the notion of doing a politician any `favors', personal or otherwise.

"Yes. This man has been a staunch supporter of our organization, and it would be ill-advised to decline his request at this time." Said the head of the section. Jean just grunted, glancing at his brother Giuseppe to see if he had caught the meaning behind the words of the Director. His brother's expression told him that he had in fact caught on.

"Budget time again, already?" he asked sardonically. The boss declined to answer that question. Instead, he passed a photo and dossier sheet to Hillshire, who studied it intently before handing it off to the next one in line. As the Fratello studied the picture and read the dossier sheet, the Director tamped a fresh load into his pipe and fired it up. When Lauro - the last of the Fratellos to study the target info- handed the picture and sheet to the first of the support teams, the head man spoke again.

"We need to deal with this as swiftly and cleanly as possible." He stated calmly. By `deal with', he meant assassinate the man. It was, after all, the job of Section 2 and their Fratello teams to do Italy's dirty work from within the shadows. "He will be arriving next week in Rome for a conference. We will deal with him at his hotel." Directed the man. "Any questions?" he asked.

"How are we to stage it?" asked one of the support teams. Jean snorted.

"Congressman Mascarl has been heavy-handed in his criticism of terrorist activities of the Five Republics and other radical groups. We'll just dress it up to look like a terrorist hit." He dismissed the topic.

"Radical parties?" mused Lauro. "The man's a member of the Cecare Catholic Radicals. He has no room to talk of terrorist tactics by the Five Republics and the others." There were some sounds of muted agreement with this observation. Clearly, the man's affiliation with the church-sponsored group made him no friends in this room of pagan killers.

"Whatever his affiliation might be, he is still our mission this time. And to that ends, I believe that the Rico-Jean team should lead this time, with Henrietta-Giuseppe and Triela-Hillshire in support inside the hotel, and two support teams outside in case of emergency." Making eye contact with each lead Fratello as he named them, he got confirming nods from each in turn. "Good. Be sure that your partners are ready. We will begin site evaluation in four days, with the operation six days from now. If there is nothing further, you are dismissed." He stated, watching the group silently depart over the glowing bowl of his pipe. This business is really something sometimes. He thought reflectively as he considered the upcoming budgetary fight he would have with Section 1.

Mireille suppressed a sigh as she checked her email. It had been three weeks since their last clue to finding more information on the Soldats had fallen through in a hail of bullets. Well, it's not like we expected those guys to know anything of real value. She told herself. It still pissed the Corsican beauty off that she and her partner were coming up empty like this. "Almost as if we're chasing ghosts." She muttered, decrypting her first email.

"What was that?" came the soft voice of said partner as a teacup and saucer silently settled next to her on the pool table she used as a work bench. Glancing over, she saw that Kirika had once more been buying tea. Having been a coffee person before Kirika entered her life, she had been drinking more and more tea lately. Shaking her head, she took the cup, sipping from it. Hmm. This isn't half bad. She thought to herself. "It's nothing, Kirika." She said as the message came up.

"Another job?" quired the soft-spoken assassin of her taller partner. Kirika was significantly shorter than Mireille, her Asian ancestry evident in her dark hair and lithe frame. When she had first met the girl, Mireille had mistaken her for a teenage girl - which she was, though she had swiftly proven herself more than a match for Mireille in the arts of the assassin. Lethal with her gun, she was truly terrifying bare-handed. An acrobatic nightmare. Thought the blonde as she read the offer.

"It's not worth doing." She decided, having read the offer. "Not enough money, and the target is virtually worthless. Let someone else fill the order." She decided, deleting the offer. Moving to the next one, she caught a hint of movement out of the corner of her eye. Kirika was watering their delicate orchid.

It was a lovely Paris morning, the two having been up fairly late the night before, looking into a possible lead to the Soldat problem. It had been a false lead, and they had decided to make an example of the ones that offered the information as an object lesson that Noir was not to be taken lightly. Their codename was old, very old. It also hid the fact that they were working together. When the long-haired blonde had teamed up with the short-haired Japanese girl, she had retired her previous codename and taken the name Noir. Sometimes, she wondered if she had made a mistake in that choice.

Kirika took a few moments to look out over the city from the main window of the apartment she and the elegant European woman shared. Too many gaps. Too much missing. She thought, not for the first time. Still, since she had baited Mireille into going to Japan to meet her, she had learned a lot. It was ironic that the more the two learned, the more they needed to know. "Kirika." Came Mireille's voice, sounding alert and interested.

"What is it?" she asked, leaning over her seated partner's shoulder to look at the screen of the laptop the Bouquet woman used to make her contracts. Web-based encrypted emails were her primary tools, as well as several numbered accounts in seven different countries, contacts with black market weapons dealers and info snoops of every type. Kirika scanned the offer.

"It's an Italian big wig." Said Mireille as Kirika read. "The contract stipulates that he must die before he can vote in the upcoming session of the Congress. As payment, we would receive three quarters of a million dollars and the dossier of someone who can tell us how to find more Soldats." She noted, her tone eager.

"It might be a trap." Countered Kirika. "Much as Dux was." Mireille nodded.

"Yes. It might be." She agreed. "But still, we need the information. We've been hitting a brick wall each time we attempt to learn more of the Soldats." The two were silent for a bit. Each weighed the risks against the possible rewards, and several seconds later, they shared a nod. Turning her attention to the computer, she typed in a simple message:

I will undertake the case. Noir.

Following this, she added the numbered account she wanted the money transferred to. With the email sent, the two assassins quickly winnowed through the last of the new emails, and finding noting of particular interest, moved back to the issue at hand. A swift check of her account online showed that the transfer had been made. With the deal set, it was time to go to work.

As Mireille began to assemble a dossier on the target, as well as travel plans, habits and locations, Kirika silently watched her work, contributing as she could, but basically letting the other woman do what she did best: plan. Later that evening, the two prepared for bed. Though it had been a few months since she had brought Kirika back from Japan to being the search for her past, she still hadn't gotten a separate bed for the small girl. They both shared her large bed in her studio apartment. Though she wouldn't admit it, she kind of liked having another in her bed.

Dressed in her loose, thin sleeping shirt, she felt Kirika shift a bit, dressed in her own sleeping outfit of a simple shirt and short, soft, relaxed shorts. "Still awake?" offered the blonde. A soft sound was her answer. "Don't suppose you've been to Italy before." Tried the taller girl again.

"Not that I can remember." Replied the short girl softly.

"Well, once the jobs done, what do you say to getting you some newer clothes?" she propositioned. Kirika had little in the way of clothing variety, and Mireille just couldn't resist dolling her partner up when she could. Besides, clothes are just as much a job necessity as guns or knives. She thought, rationalizing her actions. Assassins that couldn't blend in were unsuccessful assassins. "Maybe a nightie." She mused.

"A what?" wondered Kirika.

"Um, something different to sleep in." she deflected. Shit. Didn't mean to say that out loud! "Well, anyway, sleep tight. We're off to Italy in a couple of days." She added, settling in to sleep, barely aware that her arm draped itself over Kirika's waist as she drifted off. For her part, once she felt the warm, soft arm of her partner settle over her, Kirika was able to join her in sleep.

Jean and Rico studied the motel blueprints in the room they had occupied in the building adjacent to the motel. As the primary team, they would be doing the deed while the other three Fratello teams backed them up inside and the support teams backed them up outside. Due to some last-minute issues with Angelica's implants and an urgent assignment for the Elsa-Lauro team regarding a bomb threat from the Five Republics, the support element inside would be Henrietta-Giuseppe and Triela-Hillshire. Not that two additional teams of Fratello couldn't level the hotel.

Thanks to her enhanced body, Rico memorized the map very swiftly. Jean, years of intelligence work under his belt, had learned to memorize maps and details swiftly. Glancing at his watch, he abruptly folded the blueprints up and tucked them back into the small case he carried with him for this mission. "Time for a walk-through." He directed Rico.

"Ok." Came the reply, the young girl picking up a small musical instrument case. Well-worn, it was boldly emblazoned by the name `AMATI' on the side. Inside the case was a decidedly nasty instrument: a silenced Sig Sauer P239 fitted for a silencer along with several back-up magazines. Glancing back as she exited the room, she saw Jean lighting a cigarette. "I…I'll be right back." She said.

"Of course you will." He muttered as she closed the door. He glanced at his watch. Ten minutes should suffice for a walk-through. He decided, taking a drag on his cigarette. Below the window, he watched Rico move across the street and around the side of the building. "She could have just gone in and exited the rear entrance like we planned." He said to himself.

Rico walked steadily along the perimeter of the hotel, noting the positions of doors, windows, trash cans, bikes, scooter and cars. I might be in a hurry tomorrow. She thought as she neared the rear entrance. She would be exiting there after dealing with the target, and Jean would be waiting with a car at the corner of the hotel. Just as she neared the steps, she heard the door handle turn.

"That's the hotel." Murmured Mireille as she and Kirika walked past. The two were dressed casually, with a wide-brimmed hat on Kirika's head that accented her simple untied sundress, and a tourist map in Mireille's hands and a light-weight photographer's vest over her cargo shorts and tee shirt to better give the impression of a tourist out to see the sights. Both girls wore simple tennis shoes. "Our target will check in tomorrow afternoon. We will need to take care of it before his dinner appointment with the party officials." Continued Mireille.

Kirika made a soft sound of acknowledgement. As usual, outside the apartment, she was practically mute. Silent did not mean disinterested, however. Her eyes were sharp and her skills finely honed. And right now, her senses told her that something was not right. "Mireille." She said in a whisper. That one word held entire volumes for her partner.

Smothering a frown, the taller blonde toyed with the map for a moment, pausing near the entrance to the hotel. Concentrating, she thought she might feel a kind of tickle sensation on the back of her neck. The same tickle sensation that she got just before someone tried to shove a knife into her throat or shoot her in the back. "I think it's that way." She announced in a conversational tone and volume, vaguely pointing toward the left. The two turned and walked steadily along the front of the hotel.

Just as they reached the corner, a young girl with short blonde hair and carrying a musical instrument case collided with Mireille, who was surprised to feel herself stagger back a bit from the impact. She's mighty solid for such a small girl. Thought the Corsican killer. Looking down, she smiled at the girl, who blushed and said "Sono spiacente. , Me perdona per favore."

"È ok, nessuno danno fatto." Replied Mireille easily, stepping aside as the girl jogged across the street. She and Kirika continued on their way. Once they were a block away, Kirika glanced up at her partner.

"They are watching the hotel." She said simply.

"Whoever `they' are." Agreed the blonde. "It could be any number of factions, from the Congressman's security detail, to terrorists, to intelligence agencies, to the Soldats." She murmured. Kirika said nothing. "Doesn't matter. We have a job to do, and Noir never fails." She decided. Silently, the two walked back to their hotel room to prepare and plan.

Jean snubbed out his cigarette. She's late. He thought grumpily. Looking out the window, he momentarily paused to appreciate the leggy blonde studying the map in front of the hotel. Not bad at all. French, most likely. Expensive, too. He noted. He gave her companion a cursory once-over. She's young, barely older than the subjects for the Section. Asian. Cute, if you go for that type. His eyes moved on, searching for his `sister' Rico.

He glanced back just in time to see Rico collide with the shapely blonde. After a brief exchange of apologies, Rico double-timed it back. Jean glanced at his watch, shaking his head. As soon as Rico was back in the room, he turned to stare at her. "What happened?" he demanded.

"Nothing." Replied Rico, fidgeting.

"Nothing does not explain you being late." He countered evenly. "Did someone see you scouting the site?" he pressed.

"N…no one." She said, clenching her hands in front of her chest. Jean considered her carefully.

"If someone saw you, you'll have to be sure to eliminate them if they see you again." He reminded her.

"I know. But, I didn't see anyone!" she denied.

"Like you didn't see that blonde you ran into?" he accused her.

"I…I…um, it was just an accident!" protested Rico.

"Accidents can cost us a mission, Rico." He schooled her. "Do as you're told exactly. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Jean." She replied meekly. He turned to look back out the window.

"Good. Now, check your gear for tomorrow and get some rest." He directed. Rico nodded. "And be sure to get some food." He added. Just then, there was a soft knock at the door. Both of them turned to look at the door as it opened and a familiar head ducked in.

"Rico! We're going to have some pasta!" said Henrietta happily. "Come on! Let's eat!" she urged. Rico glanced at Jean, who just looked away.

"O…ok." Said the girl, slowly following her roommate out the door. Jean heard them moving down the hall.

"Yes, brother?" he said, sensing Giuseppe watching him. For a moment, there was no answer. Then, the other Fratello spoke.

"Get some food and rest as well, Jean." Said the handler of Henrietta. "Hillshire has the watch." He added, closing the door behind him. Jean fished out another cigarette.

Humming to herself, Mireille checked her information feed one more time before closing the laptop down. Stretching her back, she stood and headed for the bathroom. A warm shower and then to bed; tomorrow will be a busy day. She thought. Entering the bathroom, she saw Kirika finish up drying off from her own shower. The small girl glanced at Mireille. "The shower is nice." She offered simply, letting the towel fall over her shoulders. Silently, she moved past the taller woman.

Mireille watched the girl pass, noting the thin, spidery scars on her partner's light brown skin. Shaking her head a bit to clear her head, she began to toss off her own clothes. "Oh! Kirika, I laid out your new nightie for you." She called. "It's on the bed." She added. Hearing no verbal answer, the blonde mentally shrugged and started the shower.

When she emerged from the warm bathroom a half hour later, she saw Kirika standing next to the bed, the sheer, light blouse-like sleeping outfit clinging to her form. The silent girl was studying herself in the full-size mirror near the bed. Mireille hid a smile at the mildly perplexed look on her partner's face. "Something wrong, Kirika?" she asked the smaller girl.

"No." replied Kirika. "It's just that this…" she left it hanging, a slight frown on her face. Mireille giggled a bit.

"It's cute!" she announced. Kirika considered it.

"I suppose it is." She agreed. The filmy garment came to mid-thigh on her, and was loose and comfortable, if a far cry from what she usually wore. "It is like yours." She said softly. The French assassin wore a thin cotton dueling shirt to bed, and Kirika had always liked the way it looked on her.

"It is; a little anyway." Admitted Mireille honestly. "Don't you like it?" she asked. Kirika considered that question. After a dozen or so heartbeats, she answered.

"Yes. I like it a lot, Mireille." She smiled at her partner. The other woman smiled back. Walking to the bed, she turned the covers back, delicately picking up the small treat on the center pillow.

"Well, that's a relief." She said to Kirika. "I wasn't sure you would like it. Want the candy?" she asked, holding up the small treat.

"No, thank you." Replied the small girl softly. Mireille set it aside for later, dropping her towel before reaching for her own sleeping shirt. As the shirt settled over her head, she saw Kirika holding out her Walther P99 to her, her own Beretta in her hands. Nodding her thanks, she took her gun, cracking the slide back to verify that it was chambered before slipping into bed, her gun under her pillow as Kirika settled next to her, her hand on her gun's grip. "Good night, Mireille." Came her voice from the darkness as she turned off the lights.

"Good night, Kirika." Said the blonde.

"Right on time." Mused Jean, seeing the man enter the hotel. Turning to the others in the room, he tossed his head toward the hotel. "Let's get this done." He said simply. Silently, the teams moved into position. In a small service staging area, Rico, Henrietta and Triela were tying on the aprons and head scarves of the hotel maid staff. Henrietta and Triela made small adjustments to Rico's outfit.

"Just follow the plan, Rico." Advised Triela calmly. "It's a walk in the park." She assured the girl.

"And if anything goes wrong, we'll be right there." Added Henrietta. Rico nodded, cycling the slide on her Sig to chamber one of the subsonic rounds. Combined with the silencer, it would make her gun damn near inaudible. Satisfied that her gun was ready, she took the silver tray that the taller Triela offered her and concealed the silenced gun behind it.

"So, how do I look?" she asked, smiling. Her two fellow assassins returned her smile.

"You look fine, Rico." The agreed. The lead shooter smiled back.

"Hey! When we get back, Claes has some imported tea for us to try!" remembered Henrietta. "Let's get together in her room when we get back, ok?" She glanced up at the taller twin-pony tailed Triela, who nodded.

"That's a good idea." She agreed. "We can see if Angelica is feeling better, too." She added. Just then, Giuseppe looked into the room.

"It's time." He said simply. Silently, the three moved to their assigned positions. Triela moved to where Hillshire waited on the upper floor, while Rico walked with Giuseppe and Henrietta to the stairwell one floor short of the floor where the congressman was staying.

After checking the hallway, Rico stepped across to the elevators and rode up one floor to the target's room. Hearing the reports that all was clear, she made for the door to the room where the man was staying. Ten steps short of the door, she heard the command to freeze. Startled, she glanced around, then shoved the locked door to the staff passage open, slipping the tray to the floor and bringing her gun to the ready as she pushed to door nearly closed.

She flinched as she heard a voice from behind her. "R…Rico, is that you?" She spun, the gun coming up as she did so. Oh, no. It's Emilio. She thought, remembering the boy she had met the day before. He stood there, a bottle of chilled champaigne in his hands. Rico smiled at him sadly. "What are you doing here, Rico?" he asked, confused. "This is for employees only. And is that…?" he froze, realizing that he was looking at a suppressed gun.

What should I say at a time like this? Wondered the young assassin. She had hoped not to see him again, as Jean's words ran though her mind. Oh, yes. That's right! She thought, remembering the expression. "Sorry." She said softly, caressing the trigger.

Mireille glanced at Kirika as she put an insurance shot in the head of the second body guard in the room with the target. Kirika had snapped the neck of the guard that answered the door as easily and as coldly as a chef broke uncooked spaghetti into a pot. Both assassins had moved into the room swiftly and silently. Mireille turned to the right and Kirika to the left, the Walther - silencer attached - had coughed twice, hitting the guard in the chest, then once more, putting a bullet in the temple of the man to be sure he was down. Body armor can be a nasty surprise. She mused.

Kirika had moved toward the bathroom, but the door had opened, revealing the target. Before he could register the scene, the Beretta had sneezed twice, sending a pair of bullets into the heart of the man. Taking a step closer, Kirika put a third shot it the center of the dead man's forehead, making a violent splatter on the floor. Looking back to her partner, she noted the second dead bodyguard. Both girl immediately tucked their guns away and swiftly but calmly exited the room.

"Rico! Enter the room! Now!" came the voice of Jean in her earpiece. Spinning on her heel, she sprinted to the room, kicking the door open without breaking stride, the crumpled body of the boy forgotten. Sweeping the room, she saw the first guard, his head twisted around and at a sharp angle that told her he was clearly dead. Farther into the room, she spotted the second guard, laying in a pool of blood. Looking the other way, she spotted the target, clearly dead.

"They're dead." She whispered into her mic. From behind her, she heard Henrietta and Triela enter the room, Henrietta's preferred FN P90 submachine gun ready, her second backup holding a cut-back riot shotgun at the ready. Both girls looked at the body. Moments later, Giuseppe, Jean and Hillshire entered the room.

"Whoa. This is not good." Muttered Giuseppe.

"Everyone, out." Directed Jean. Hillshire was on the radio.

"Support, we were beat to the mark. Withdraw immediately." He directed. Swiftly, the six hitters moved out of the room and back to a service passage, where the girls ditched their maid outfits into the laundry shoot. "Take different routes out. We'll meet back at the base in six hours." Directed Jean, lowering his cell phone. "Rico, did anyone see you?" he asked her.

"Um, one boy did, so I killed him." She replied, frowning. Jean nodded.

"Excellent. Be sure not to leave any traces." He cautioned.

"What about the door?" wondered Henrietta. "Rico kicked it open, so it's broken." She pointed out.

"Not important. She's wearing hotel shoes, so they won't give anything away." Dismissed Jean. He glanced at his watch. "Let's get out of here." The three teams separated, the primary hit team moving toward the rear entrance. In silence, they moved past the entrance to the kitchen, through the kitchen and out the back. As they turned toward the street, they froze. At the far end of the shallow alley were the blonde and the Asian from before.

"We're being followed." Murmured Kirika as she and Mireille moved away from the hotel. The taller blonde nodded slightly.

"Yes. And isn't that the kid from yesterday?" she wondered. Kirika nodded slightly. "I thought so." She was silent for a moment. "We have to take care of this." She said.

"The next corner?" came the reply from her partner.

"Mmm." Hummed Mireille. As the next corner approached, the two stepped around it, then sprinted into ambush positions. A few moments later, the man and the girl rounded the corner. Both froze as they saw an empty alley. Mireille got a steady bead on the man and touched the trigger on her Walther, leaving the small girl to Kirika.

She gaped as the girl suddenly dove in front of her shot, taking the bullet meant for the man. Even more shocking was the fact that the girl just grunted as she whipped up a silenced gun of her own, pumping out four quick shots. Those shots would have hit Mireille except that Kirika had dodged in and kicked the girl's arm, knocking the aim off.

Immediately, the man slashed at Kirika with a small combat folder, but the small assassin slipped under the cut, lashing out with a upward-curving kick to his chin. The man leaned back, dodging the blow, but leaving himself open to Kirika's follow-through side kick, which caught him in the gut. As he fell, Kirika brought her Beretta around to put him down, but the girl tackled Kirika.

"Shit." Hissed Mireille, looking for the shot. Kirika was fully engaged with the small girl, and was punishing her with heavy body blows, but the girl didn't seem to feel them, holding on to Kirika's gun. Seeing the man moving, Mireille shifted targets and squeezed off another round. This time, the bullet hit her mark, though not where she had meant to, plowing into him on the outside of the left ribs.

"Jean!" cried the girl, literally throwing Kirika to the side. The acrobatic assassin twisted and fired twice point blank into the girl's side. Once more, she just seemed irritated as she spun and swung at Kirika, who instinctively blocked. From where she was closing the distance, Mireille heard Kirika gasp in pain.

"Kirika!" hissed Mireille, bringing her gun up. Before she could fire, the girl swung her own gun toward Mireille and pulled the trigger. Diving for cover, the taller assassin felt a burning sensation on her thigh and a stabbing throb across her left scapula. Rolling, she came up, searching for the girl in her sight picture.

"Mireille." Came the soft voice of Kirika. Jumping into the girl, she spun around and drove her heel into the girl's chin with all her might, knocking the girl up and over the man's body. Landing with a thud, the girl lay still. Mireille picked herself up with some assistance from Kirika. Hearing the sounds of some people approaching, the two battered assassins exchanged looks before moving off as swiftly as they could.

"How is he?" asked Giuseppe, looking at his brother's heavily bandaged form laying in the hospital bed. The head physician shrugged.

"The bullet hit his left lung, creating a sucking chest wound. If he hadn't of peeled the plastic off his pack of smokes, he would have died before we could treat him. As it stands, he'll be back up and around in a few weeks' time." Said the doc. "Ferro and Amadeo got there in time, and Triela-Hillshire weren't far behind." He added.

"How is Rico?" asked Henrietta. She and her Fratello had been the farthest away when the weak call came in from Jean. They had gotten there just as the two had been loaded into a car to be rushed back to the base for treatment. Leaving the support staff to gather what they could of useful data, they had followed the shot-up pair back to the base.

"She's doing a bit better than Jean, actually. All the cyber implants helped a lot, though she took five rounds. None of them hit anything vital, so we should have her back up in a week or so." Explained the doctor.

"Any idea on who did this?" asked Henrietta's `brother'.

"Not any real clue." Said the doctor. "We checked the bullets we pulled from Rico. They're subsonic semi-jacketed rounds like we use, and silencers were used as well. Also, Rico has a lot of blunt trauma impact marks on her body." He added.

"She was clubbed?" asked Giuseppe skeptically. The doctor shook his head.

"No, she was worked over by hand. We got several hand-sized bruises as well as some that are consistent with feet. Whoever hit her was a skilled martial artist. Had she been normal, she would have died within the first couple of seconds of the fight, if not sooner."

"If they look this bad, they're attackers must look worse." Came the voice of the director. "We need to talk, Giuseppe." He added quietly.

"Ah!" gasped Mireille, gritting her teeth as Kirika cleaned and bandaged her flesh wounds. Two rounds had creased her, one on the outside of her right thigh, the over across her left shoulder blade. Though messy and painful, neither were worth much as far as dangerous wounds went. She had had far worse in her time.

"Sorry, Mireille." Came the soft voice of her partner. The small girl was making a habit of tending to the other's wounds. She herself had some bandages over her lower ribs and her left wrist and right elbow were likewise taped up. Still, they were both still capable of pursuing the fight if necessary.

"Who were they?" wondered Mireille. "That girl soaked up bullets like she was a machine or something."

"I don't know, Mireille." Replied Kirika. "But I doubt that she was normal. Her strength and resilience were far beyond any I have seen before." She added. That kick should have all but taken her head off, yet it barely put her down. "What do you think we should do?" she asked.

"First, let's rest a bit. Then, let's see if the payment has been made. After that, we'll decide on what to do next." Decided Mireille. The two were in a different hotel in Anzio, having gone straight from the incident to the hotel, where they grabbed their small bags, boarded a train and headed straight for Anzio. Until they were sure they were clear, they would keep low in Italy. There was also the matter of the Soldat lead.

With the first aid taken care of, the two got comfortable in bed, and soon fell asleep, Mireille spooned to Kirika, her arm resting over the girl's waist. For her part, Kirika managed to get her legs interlaced with Mireille's own, feeling the other woman's warmth through the shared contact. Neither girl's hand left their guns all night.

Henrietta was sitting at the comfortably snug table in Claes's room where she, Triela and Angelica were having some tea. Rico should have been there, but was still being `repaired' in the medical wing, not too far from where her Fratello handler was himself recovering. The hostess herself was laying on her bed, glasses on as she read another book. "Has Giuseppe told you anything about Rico or Jean?" asked Angelica as she set her tea cup back down on the saucer.

"No. He was going to speak with the medical people about Jean, though." said the girl, reaching for the sugar. She scooped out several spoons and stirred them into her tea.

"You are using a lot of sugar." Came Claes's voice from the top bunk. Her headphones were on, and the enhanced hearing of the other girls could hear the music she was listening to. Today, it was pop music.

"I am?" wondered Henrietta, frowning a little. "Well, I guess I am, but it's just that lately, I can't taste things as well as I used to." She said. Sipping her tea, she smiled. "But this does taste good, Claes!" she enthused. The quiet girl looked over and down at her.

"Thank you, Henrietta." She said graciously. "It took me a while to get it here from China." She added, looking back to her book. Triela set her own empty tea cup on the saucer in front of her.

"Getting back to Rico and Jean, I asked Hillshire about it just before I came over here, and he said that there wasn't any new information at this time, but hopefully Jean and or Rico could help us with some details about the assassins." She absently flicked one of her long ponytails back behind her shoulder. "He did say one thing for sure, though." she mused.

"What was that?" wondered Henrietta. Triela looked at each of them, catching Claes's eyes as well.

"He said that whoever did this was definitely a pro." She passed along.

"A professional? You mean, someone wanted Rico dead?" asked Angelica. Triela shook her head.

"I don't think so; or rather, Hillshire doesn't read it like that. It's probably about Jean or the hit on the congressman." She shrugged. "Wrong place, wrong time, you know?" They were silent as they thought about this possibility. The silence was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Yes?" called Claes. As the only girl without a Fratello handler, her room was kind of off limits to the other handlers, which is one of the reasons that the room was a favorite for the girls to hang out in.

"It's Giuseppe." Stated Henrietta. Claes took her at her word. Any of the girls could identify their handlers with ease.

"Come in." called Claes, going back to her reading. The door opened and Giuseppe stepped into the room. The girls watched him expectantly. For a moment, he studied them. Finally, he spoke.

"Jean and Rico will be fine. I was told that Rico will be back with you all in a few days, and back to operational status within a week or so. Jean will be in the hospital for a couple of weeks, recovering, but he should be back to work within the month." He announced. The girls - and especially Henrietta - seemed relieved at this news.

"Any news about the attackers?" asked Triela of the man. Giuseppe considered what the boss had said before he framed an answer. Before he could choose his words, Claes chose them for him.

"Professionals. Most like those that got to the Congressman first." She stated. He nodded.

"Yes."

"And I presume that if Jean and Rico can add anything that might be helpful in identifying these people, we will attempt to even the score." She continued. Henrietta's handler considered this comment.

"That is the Director's call, not ours." He said. Claes closed her book, set her glasses on top of them and rolled out of her bed gracefully, landing on her feet silently. Reaching over Henrietta's shoulder, she poured herself some tea.

"As professionals, they are just doing their job." She said before sipping the tea. Swallowing her sip, she looked over at the man. "Shouldn't we worry about the employer rather than the executioners of the act?" she challenged.

"They tried to kill Jean and Rico, Claes. They're assassins." He countered. She sipped her tea again.

"So are we, Giuseppe." She answered him coolly.

Mireille stood on the small balcony of their room at Anzio, enjoying the afternoon sun. They had been in the town now for four days, waiting for the dossier and healing. Kirika removed her bandages from her wrist and elbow the day before, and had quietly told Mireille that she would be healed within five days. The shallow cuts from the bullets that had nicked the blonde were healing nicely, thanks to practiced care from the other assassin.

In Paris, the Corsican woman had a reliable, discreet doctor to tend to her wounds - and lately, Kirika's wounds. Here, in Italy, they didn't have a readily-available doctor who would treat bullet wounds with no questions asked and no report for only an envelope full of money. Not for the first time, the young Bouquet woman had to admit that Kirika was a good partner for her. But I will still kill her once we know about her past. She vowed, not for the first time.

"The tea is ready." Came Kirika's soft voice from just behind her. Turning, she saw that Kirika was once more wearing the loose-fitting sundress that she had first worn when they had gone to assassinate the head of the Atride Corporation in that South American pesthole country.

"And still no swimsuit." She muttered, stepping off the balcony. Kirika looked at her questioningly, but she just waved it off.

"What do you want for supper tonight?" she asked the girl. "I heard about a nice little restaurant that serves the best Scampi alla Piastra in Italy." She enticed the smaller girl. Kirika nodded.

"Sounds fine." She answered. Mireille sighed. Kirika was not a picky eater, but she seemed to have the same calm acceptance of any dish that made the blonde wonder if she had any notion that gourmet cuisine was special. French fries or Emincé de Volaille sauce Roquefort - Pommes de terre sautées, she's just as quiet! The woman mentally griped. It was an on-going project for her to try to find a food that got Kirika excited.

"Well, at least pretend to enjoy it, hmm?" she suggested to her partner.

"I do enjoy it." Reassured Kirika earnestly. Mireille grimaced.

"Yeah, so you say." She replied, moving toward the bed, where her clothes waited for her. She had been watching the surf on the beach in a pair of shorts and a tee shirt, having forgone her usual bra due to the bullet cut on her shoulder blade. Her clothes for later that evening would be dictated by the wounds, as well. She had selected her flowing silk blouse and knee-length skirt that was slit on each side to her hip. The overlap of her blouse allowed her to carry her Walther ready to rock. But, for now, she had tea to enjoy.

Once she was changed and Kirika had inspected the wounds on her back and thigh, she sat at the table and took the offered tea cup from Kirika. Something new. She thought, smelling an unfamiliar tea. Sipping it cautiously, she hummed in appreciation. "This is good." She said to her smaller partner.

"It's Chinese tea." Said Kirika softly. "It will help us heal." She added. Mireille just raised an eyebrow, saying nothing. For the next half hour, they sipped their tea in comfortable silence. The silence was broken by a chime from the laptop, which was hooked up to the digital cell phone and logged onto the Paris-based assassin's information service.

Crossing to the laptop, the two studied the information. Both sets of eyes - one blue, the other brown - narrowed in anger. "Another false lead." Growled Mireille. The `dossier' the client had offered was basically garbage - carefully organized garbage, but garbage nonetheless. Kirika looked over at her partner. "Yes." Said the Corsican. "It seems we weren't clear enough last time." She murmured.

Typing in a new search request, Mireille set in motion the search for the identity of the client for the last hit. Naturally, the client had used a stand-in identity for the hiring, but that was more or less standard fare for the murder industry, where the assassin could be an undercover cop, a nut or an amateur. As her uncle had taught her, she had arranged for multiple, separate information services to be available to her. It was costly, but what price was your life worth, really?

With the truth being sniffed out, the two assassins drifted out to the balcony, taking seats side by side in the surprisingly-comfortable chairs on the compact outdoor space. An hour and half later, they headed out for dinner. When they got back, the first batch of information was forming up. Hopefully, within a couple of days at the most, they would be ready to teach a remedial class in not fucking with Noir.

"Today's agenda is - once more - the Five Republics." Said the Director, calling the meeting to order. "Information has come to our attention that tells us that they are planning a terror bombing plot involving several key landmarks in Rome, Florence, Milan and Venice." The man paused to look at his assembled Fratello teams.

"With Rico-Jean out of action for the time being, we are left with four active Fratello teams and four targets. Fortunate, some might say." He observed. "So, we are going to assign a Fratello team to each location to see what we can learn of the Five Republics means, methods, personnel and organization."

"Sir, I am sure that you have considered the very real possibility that the four targets are either bait or misdirection." Noted Marco. As Angelica's Fratello lead, he was considered something of a senior agent to everyone due to his long involvement with the first deployed mechanically-enhanced unit, Angelica.

"Yes, your concern has been addressed." Replied the boss. "Right now, Section 1 is looking into the matter to see if they can determine the true value of this information. However," he continued, "until we know for sure, we will presume it to be accurate and actionable and plan accordingly." Glancing at his notes, he scanned them briefly. "Each Fratello can request four support personnel for their use. If you have any preferences, speak now." He said. For a moment, the Fratello leads were silent. Then, Giuseppe spoke.

"I would like to request Ferro, Alphonso, Amadeo and Cosilino for support." Said the man. "I would additionally like to volunteer for reprisal when we determine the employer of the assassins that hit Rico-Jean." He added. The others looked at him, their expressions mixed.

"Out to avenge your brother, Giuseppe?" asked Lauro. "Foolishness. There is no room in this profession for personal feelings." He scoffed.

"It could also be that he seeks to protect this organization, Lauro." Noted Hillshire. "The two that fought with Rico-Jean doubtlessly noted that Rico was not your typical young girl. Also, they got a good look at Jean, and maybe the rest of us, as well." He paused. "Excuse me, those of us that were on that assignment." He needled Fratello of Elsa. The man just grunted.

"Eloquent response." Sniped Marco. "In any event, this is neither here nor now, so let's get back to business." He suggested.

"Indeed." Agreed the head man. "Speaking of business, has the issues with Angelica's body been resolved so she is fit for field duty?" he asked the Fratello for that unit. Marco frowned.

"What did the body mechanics tell you?" he asked in a careful tone.

"They told me that they think they got the issues worked out, thanks to Claes and their research sessions. But I'm asking what you think, as her Fratello." Responded the boss.

"She should be fine; her performance in training has been excellent." Replied the man. Well, excellent if you ignore her failing memory. The side effects of the serum dosage that maintained controllability of the units were still being mapped. Much as the techniques and technology of the enhancements themselves were still being researched, the effects of the conditioning and mental blocking were being learned each day and each mission.

"I see." Said the boss. "Very well, we will pick the assignments for the cities once Section 1 finishes their probe into this intelligence. For the time being, maintain your training cycles with the units." He announced.

"Sir, has there been any further developments in the Rico-Jean incident?" asked Giuseppe of his boss. The man shook his head.

"Not as such. We managed to recover some shell casings but they were black-market, same as ours. We saw indications that one or both of them were injured, and Rico confirms that she managed to injure the smaller of the two, though she couldn't be sure if it was debilitating or not. Jean's description of the two have been passed around, but nothing yet."

"I see." Said the man softly. Thoughtfully, he exited the meeting room. Moving though the building toward the dormitory where the girls lived, he almost didn't realize that Henrietta had silently fallen in at his side. When he noticed her, she was walking along, smiling just a little.

"Henrietta, how are you today?" he asked her. She smiled up at him.

"I'm good. Claes told me that Rico should be back tomorrow, though she won't be going out with us for a bit longer." Said the girl.

"Yes. Jean will take a bit longer to recover than Rico." He agreed amicably. A thought occurred to him. "Henrietta, I want you to practice your violin for a bit, ok?" he asked her.

"Sure." She agreed immediately. Her conditioning would make her agree if I told her to stand in a fire. He thought bleakly. "Do you want me to play for you?" she asked eagerly.

"In a bit. For now, can you find a place to practice where you won't bother the others?" he asked her. She nodded.

"I'll see if Claes will let me play in her room." She confirmed.

"Good. I'll be back shortly." He promised, ruffling her hair as he turned to head for the medical wing. Henrietta watched him for a moment before turning for the dormitory to get her violin. Claes is much better at playing than I am. Thought the girl. Maybe she'll help me practice! She thought eagerly. Giuseppe would like it if I got better at playing! Skipping off, she headed for her and Rico's room to grab her instrument.

In the medical wing, her Fratello knocked on the door to his brother's room and after hearing a reply, he entered, shutting the door behind him. Jean looked up from his paper. Forced to remain in bed while his lung healed, he was impatient to get back to work. "So, what brings you here, brother?" he asked.

"Charming as always." Muttered Giuseppe, taking a seat near his bedside.

"I have always hated down time, and you know it." Reminded Jean. "You're here for…?" he asked leadingly.

"About your attack." Said his dark-haired brother softly. Jean's full attention was immediately his. "Tell me, ever think of hiring an assassin to find an assassin?" he asked, smiling a thin, cold smile. Blinking, Jean shook his head.

"And they say we don't act like brothers." He purred.

"Our client is this man: Salavan De Racotti." Said Mireille, showing his picture to her partner. "He's a low-rank member of the bottom of the leadership structure of the ideological terrorist group calling themselves the Five Republics." She continued. "SISDE has tagged him as being involved in a couple of bombings, some assassination attempts and influence peddling." She paused, tapping her lips with a finger as she considered the information. "I wonder how a small fish like this got the money for our services and the `dossier' on the Soldat man." She wondered aloud.

"Most likely he stole it from the Five Republics or was given it by the Soldats as bait." Suggested her partner in her typical soft voice.

"Either way, we will make an example of him for any others who would think to short-change Noir." Murmured the blonde. Kirika had no comment for this, simply watching her taller partner expectantly. "He's in Florence right now, and will be for the next four days." Said Mireille, standing and reaching for her bag. "So, let's go take a look at the situation."

Silently, both girls grabbed their bags, Mireille swiftly shutting down her laptop and packing it away. Exiting their room, the two dropped by the desk, checking out and heading for the station. Within fifteen minutes, they were on their way to Florence.

As soon as they arrived in the city, the two checked into a modest motel and dropped off their bags before heading out to scout the area in preparation for dealing with the lying son of a bitch that would dare to toy with Noir. For most of the day and into the evening, the two systematically covered the ground around their target. Map in hand, they began to assemble a plan.

Over a dinner of rich pasta and salad, the two firmed up their plans. Tomorrow they would shadow the man as best they could and try to determine if he was being dangled as bait or was just stupid. Once they knew, they would choose the means of dealing with him. Moving back to their hotel, they showered and got into bed, hands on guns as was their habit.

Dawn broke and the two were in a small coffee shop near the target's safe house, watching as he made his way out for the day. Over the next twelve hours, the two trailed along, watching for signs of security nets, associates or law presence. By that night, the two were sure that he was working with three compatriots who shared the safe house with him. He was apparently seeking an item from a black-market arms merchant for use in the city. There were signs that another group or two had their eye on him, but only as a keep-tabs measure, not in an active roll, like they were.

Dinner was consumed as they watched the safe house shut down for the night. It was another three hours before they called it a night. Once they were back in the motel room, Mireille got a blueprint of the building they were in and printed it out for her and her partner to work over. Within fifteen minutes, they had their assault planned. Another half hour later, they had four fall-back plans and alternate evasions routes worked out. A little before two in the morning found the two sleeping, and they were back up and watching at seven the next morning as the target once more exited his safe house. All day, they followed him, making sure that he was following a more or less predictable course.

When they put him to bed, they retired to their room and checked their weapons. Silencers were double-checked, guns were stripped, cleaned and reassembled, magazines were loaded and work clothes checked to make sure that they were ready. After loading their work clothes with their tools, the two turned in for some sleep. Tomorrow would be the man's last day on earth. Curled up together, the two would never have been tagged as assassins, their sleeping countenance innocent and untroubled.

They slept later than normal the next day, rising at ten to shower and dress in work clothes. Packing their bags, the two checked out and dropped by the train station to tuck their bags into lockers to be retrieved once the mission was completed. Settling in at a shaded outdoor table, the two patiently waited for the man to come home.

As he had for the last three days, the man returned home, this time with a case, and the safe house closed down for the night. A little past nine, the two women approached the safe house. Moving quietly into the hall of the apartment block, they eased their way into position for the attack. Once they had made sure that all their targets were inside, the two pulled their guns and stopped in front of the apartment. Mireille got settled directly in front of the peephole, making sure that she was easily seen, while Kirika crouched out of sight to the hinge side of the door, her Beretta M1934 ready.

Knocking on the door, Mireille put on her most vapid smile, her hands behind her back, holding her P99 ready, chest pushed forward to draw the attention of the men. Shortly, a man's voice came through the door, asking what they wanted. Mireille said she was there to see Salavan. When the man inside said there wasn't anyone there by that name, Mireille put on a fake pout, saying she had been told to entertain Salavan at this address. As they always did, the man immediately jumped to certain conclusions and the door opened a bit, the man inside looking at her intently. Smiling, she swiftly brought her arms around and put a bullet in his head.

Before the man's body could fall, Kirika was moving, inside the apartment past the man's body, her gun coming on target and two rounds slamming into another man as he started to stand from a tattered couch. Behind her, she head the first man's body fall and the sounds of Mireille close behind her. Turing left, she moved toward the bedrooms, while Mireille turned right toward the kitchen and balcony. Hearing footsteps behind the bedroom door, Kirika fired twice more through the thin door, hearing a body hit the thin carpet. Kicking the door open, she swept the room before moving for the last bedroom.

Mireille cut the pie into the kitchen area, sweeping for any signs of the occupants. Not seeing any, she checked the balcony. Behind her, she heard Kirika kick the second door open, but no shots followed. Did we somehow miss him? She wondered, before noticing that the balcony had a small railing footing that could give someone enough room to squeeze into the area and not be seen from inside. Behind her, she heard Kirika take position at her back. A soft touch on her shoulder, and the Corsican moved forward.

Reaching out, she slid the door open. Not getting a burst of fire, she took a breath and jumped through, turning to keep her gun on the last corner of the balcony as she did so. A dark form was crammed into the corner, and she fired twice as the form moved. The figure lurched, then slipped over the rail with a gurgling cry, falling to the stone alley two stories below. After another swift check, the two silently departed the apartment.

"He's dead." Announced the boss, looking at his Fratello teams. "Section 1's surveillance teams were shadowing him, and last night, he and his three associates were assassinated." There wasn't a lot of reaction from the room.

"Was a blonde woman and an Asian woman seen near him during the last couple of days?" asked Giuseppe. The boss nodded. Before the Fratello could speak again, his boss went on.

"As a matter of fact, there were over five dozen blondes and about two dozen Asian girls observed by the agents during the forty eight hours prior to the hit." Seeing the look on his agent's face, he smirked. "What did you expect? Florence is a tourist city, you know." He noted. "And a blonde and an Asian is not a particularly effective means of identifying two women out of a crowd of women."

"So, what do we have?" asked Hillshire.

"A professional hit." Was the answer. "So, whoever hit Rico-Jean is not interested in our Agency; at least, no more than anyone else. We need to find out who is doing this." Stressed the boss. "The matter of who is pulling the triggers is far less relevant than who is paying them to pull the triggers."

"And why." Added Marco. The boss nodded. A pager chimed, and the boss withdrew it to check the number. Setting the pager down, he picked up the phone on the desk near him and dialed a number. After a terse codeword, he listened for a couple of moments, then hung up.

"We have another situation." He said. "Elsa-Lauro were just found dead in a park on the outskirts of Rome." He said. The other Fratellos jerked in surprise. "Hillshire, take Triela and go take over the investigations. Your papers as a SISDE agent are waiting for you at the desk. I want Angelica-Marco on standby, and Henrietta-Giuseppe are to remain here for further orders." He said, standing. "Let's get going, gentlemen." He said crisply.

"Rome. Again." Muttered Mireille as she and Kirika got off the train from Florence. When they had retrieved their packs, Mireille had checked her mail as she usually did for any important news, and immediately, she had found two things that halted their exfiltration back to Paris. First, there was an email that told them that what they sought was in Rome. The fact that it was signed by the Soldats made it obvious that they were being watched by the shadowy group. The second was a snippet of information that there was an offer for the assassin that had killed the Congressman. The terms were very nice, and it too had come from Rome.

So, here they were, back in the city again. As they came in, they wondered what game the Soldats were playing with them. Finding a good hotel, they settled in. While Kirika showered, Mireille checked her email again. The offer was still there, and it was tempting to see what was on the table. Composing a reply, Mireille sat back and waited. When she heard Kirika come out of the bathroom, she decided that she could use a hot shower as well.

"Jean, what are you doing up and around?" asked Giuseppe of his brother as he saw the man exit the office of the boss. He was moving a bit stiffly, but was dressed in his normal dark suit. Beside him, Rico was silent as always.

"I'm injured, not crippled, Giuseppe." Said the man. "I'm taking over for Triela-Hillshire." He said, motioning with a file in his hand. "Oh, and the boss wants to see you." He said as he and his unit moved off. Frowning, he entered the boss's office.

"Sir?" he asked. The man handed him a sheet of paper.

"You and Henrietta are to take two weeks vacation. Starting today, you are to leave this place behind you. I don't want you two around here before the two weeks are up, is that clear?" he asked.

"Sir, why…?" began Giuseppe. His boss interrupted him.

"Because I said so. Now get out of here." He said, turning back to the papers on his desk. Giuseppe shrugged.

"Yes, sir." He said, exiting the office. Well, this is strange. Still, I could always take her to the coast of Sicily. There is that villa near Palermo where I used to winter… smiling, he headed off to find Henrietta.

In his office, the Director studied the information. If Jean's theory is correct, we might need a Fratello team outside the wire, as it were. And even if this isn't another assassination by the deadly duo, it wouldn't be a good idea to have Giuseppe near this one. Too much wasn't known about the circumstances of the death and the situation with the attack on Rico-Jean just made it more imperative to get their most useful Fratello pair out of the compound for a while.

And there was the matter of Section 1 sending investigators to look into their affairs. He sighed. The director of Section 1 was a confirmed enemy of Section 2, and this was his chance to make a stink about the entire program. Leaning back in his chair, the boss lit his pipe. As he puffed on the tobacco, he planned his strategy for dealing with the investigators.

That girl smells like gunpowder. Thought Pietro Fermi as he and his partner Elenora Gabrielli examined the site of the murder with the Section 2 Fratello team of Jean and Rico. A girl her age smelling like that is as bad as a priest smelling of perfume. He thought. Jean answered all their questions smoothly and slickly, obviously snowing them. Still, Fermi had been called off vacation for this, so he knew that this was expected. He remembered the directive from his boss in Section 1 to learn all he could about the weaknesses of the mechanical bodies.

To that ends, he moved a few feet from Jean and fished out a cigarette, smoking it as he discussed the possible methods and reasons behind the killing. When his cigarette was nearly finished and his partner was asking them about the attack on themselves earlier, he flicked the butt of his cigarette at Jean's back. Before it could reach him, Rico had snatched it out of the air, a gun in her hand pointed at his chest. "I understand that you're curious about the units, Signore Fermi, but please understand, if you weren't with Section 1, you would be dead now. Please show greater restraint." Cautioned Jean without turning around. Rico slowly holstered her gun, dropping the cigarette butt.

"I see." Marveled Fermi. "But then, if they are that good, how is it that these two were taken so easily and cleanly?" he asked. Jean had an answer ready for that as well.

"It is our belief that the assassins were waiting in ambush, and fired together, much as they did with us earlier. This time, however, they knew to go for the head. This is why Lauro was hit once from behind, and Elsa had a single round in her eye. She became his shield literally, protecting him to the last, but he wasn't fast enough to get away."

"The gun found by the hand of the girl - Elsa? - had two rounds fired, but we can't find any sign that she hit anything. And the shell casings fell one on each side, which meant that she fired once in that direction," he pointed to the far end of the park, "and once in this direction." He indicated the other end of the park.

"Perhaps they flanked them from both sides." Suggested Jean.

"And risk hitting each other with their fire?" challenged Fermi. Jean said nothing. Letting it go, he turned his gaze to Rico. "Can I ask her something?" he asked Jean.

"Of course." Agreed Jean. Oh, this guy is going to be trouble. He thought. His lower chest hurt where the bullet wound was still healing. The man knelt down to study Rico's face.

"Rico? That's your name, right?" he asked. She nodded. "What's your last name, Rico?" he wondered.

"I don't have one." She said simply.

"Oh, I see. Well, anyway, do you miss Elsa?" he asked her. Rico shook her head.

"No." she without any emotion.

"No?" asked Elenora curiously. "She was your friend, wasn't she?" Rico once more shook her head.

"We weren't friends." Said the girl. The two investigators traded looks.

"I guess we're done here." Said Fermi. "How about we go see your base?" he suggested. Jean motioned to the waiting car.

"As you like." He said.

When they reached the compound, the two had gotten a short guided tour. Once they had had the tour, they asked to see Elsa's room. Rico was directed to show them the right room. Silently, the small girl lead them to the dormitory. Elsa's room was devoid of any life. When asked if it was always this way, Rico shrugged. Elenora asked if all the girls' rooms were like hers, and she shook her head.

"Triela's Fratello buys her bears and Claes's room is filled with books and things. I room with Henrietta, and she has her violin and stuff." Said the girl.

"Were any of the other girls friends with Elsa?" asked Fermi. Rico shrugged.

"I don't think so - Elsa was always off by herself. We would invite her at first, but she would always just walk away like we weren't there. Maybe Triela can tell you more." She suggested.

On that suggestion, she showed them to Triela's room. When they opened the door, two girls looked up, both of their hands falling to guns. "Hi Claes, Triela." Said Rico. "These are some people from Section 1. Jean told me to be their guide. They're here about Elsa." She explained. The two girls were silent, staring at the two.

"Hi, ladies." Offered Fermi. Damn, that's a cold reception. The blonde cyborg glanced at the one with glasses, who just went back to her book.

"Have a seat." Offered the standing girl. "The tea is excellent." She added. The next five minutes were informative. It also left him and his partner feeling a bit queasy. As they were leaving, he had a final question for the one called Triela.

"Don't you miss her?" he asked the blonde. Leaning back, she pursed her lips.

"Hmm. She was a loner, and spent all her free time in her room. The rest of us spend some time together, but she never did, so no, I don't miss her." He nodded, taking the first step out the door. Triela's voice stopped him. "She might have been happy to die for him, you know?" she suggested. Silently, he and his partner exited the room and closed the door behind them. This case is like stepping into a tar bog. Each step, you sink farther and farther, but you can't go back, and you can't get the mess off you, either.

Kirika sat silently watching her partner and other half of Noir tap her finger on the table next to the laptop. Since they had returned to Rome the day before, they had been sitting around trying to put the pieces together, but they were finding it impossible with the number of players and lack of depth in their info searches.

"This isn't working." Said Mireille, standing and stepping over to the night stand, where the two had put a small bag of snacks and drinks. Taking a small bottle of juice, she cracked the top and took a swallow or two.

"We need to change out approach." Said Kirika softly. Mireille looked at her, indicating that she was paying attention to her. "Instead of looking for people to kill, perhaps we should look for people who are killing." She suggested.

"What?" was the plaintive response from the blonde.

"Those two were assassins, Mireille." Said Kirika softly. "Assassins kill for a living." Mireille's eyebrows wrinkled for a moment, trying to catch Kirika's meaning, then, as it suddenly came to her, she closed her eyes, smiling.

"Their daily bread is our daily bread." She murmured. "You are truly something, Kirika." She praised the girl. Downing the last of the juice, she tossed the empty into the trash can. Returning to the computer, she stretched before settling in front of it again. If you can't push, then you pull. She thought to herself, constructing a few new data search requests for her network, as well as formulating some search parameters for the internet.

Elenora watched Fermi drive their car south at a good pace. "You didn't tell me what this is about." She noted to her partner. Fermi glanced at her. Seeing her expectant look, he smiled.

"It's just a couple of loose ends from the Elsa-Lauro murders." He assured her. Elenora frowned.

"You filed the report with the Chief, Fermi. What is there left to look into?" she challenged him. His smile faded a bit.

"Something that Triela girl said got me thinking." He said softly. "So, I decided to look into the matter a bit deeper."

"Nicely cryptic, but what exactly are we doing driving south at a high rate of speed?" pressed his partner.

"Tell me, can we drive this car to Sicily?" he asked her. She frowned, flipping through her small book, then checking a road map from the glove box.

"As a matter of fact, we can." She said simply. "There's a daily ferry to Sicily." She clarified. "So, what's in Sicily?" she asked.

"Hopefully an understanding." He muttered.

It was well past nine at night, and Mireille and Kirika were laying side by side on the large bed in their room, having stepped out for dinner an hour earlier after all day in the room doing research. Now, they were trying to fit the new information into the old to see what they were dealing with.

"This is confusing." Noted Mireille, sighing in frustration. "We have a contract for an assassination on a guy who is apparently going to be assassinated by this other group. The contract is from a man in one of the groups being hunted by the assassins we ran into, but he has access to Soldat information - be it false or otherwise. We eliminate him, but the Soldat remains. Are the Soldats trying to move in, or defend their position?" she wondered.

"Perhaps neither." Came the soft voice from her side. "The orders to sanction us still stand." She reminded her partner. "And what better way to do that than to send us to do a job that will put us in direct contact with these other assassins. Two birds with one stone." She suggested.

"I don't think so." Disagreed Mireille. "I mean, we can just walk away, right?" she countered. Kirika was silent for a moment.

"Can we?" she asked. "They saw us, Mireille. And they saw us together." She pointed out.

"And we couldn't seem to finish them, either." Agreed the blonde sourly. "So, no, I don't think we can walk away." She agreed. "Where does that leave us?"

"Where we have been since we joined forces." Said Kirika in a disturbingly flat tone. "Searching for the Soldats." Silence fell for a good ten minutes. Then, Mireille had a suggestion for her partner.

"What do you think about making discreet contact with these assassins and see which side they fall on?" she suggested. Kirika turned her head to look at Mireille. "Well, we are both in the same profession, and it might give us the pieces we need to find the Soldats." She suggested.

"It could also put us in our graves." Noted Kirika. A smile tugged at the lips of the blonde.

"Is that a `no', Kirika?" she asked. Slowly, the smaller girl shook her head.

Fermi took a long pull from the bottle before setting it back down. "All this time, and you and Henrietta both knew what happened to the Elsa-Lauro Fratello." He said, his tone a bit rough. Glancing over his shoulder, Giuseppe assessed the man and his partner. Elenora took a long drink from her own glass of brandy.

"And that is why being a Fratello is so hard." He said quietly. "She's a lethal killing instrument, but she's still just a kid. The job of her partner is to guide and support her. If he fails, she fails, and if she fails, he fails." He sipped his wine before continuing. "Thanks to the conditioning, the bodies tend to develop powerful attachment to their handler, sometimes to the point that they obsess over where they fit into the life of their Fratello. Discovering that the one you love doesn't - and never will - return that love can have devastating effects on the girls. It's something that no amount of mental conditioning can prevent." He said softly.

"Henrietta's terrifying." Elenora said. "She isn't like the others we met, but if she could do that…" she trailed off, taking another drink.

"Now do you understand why I won't let guns be near her while we're here?" he asked them. Slowly, they both nodded. Turning away from the window, Giuseppe sank into a chair near the coffee table. "For what it's worth, I think both of you could make excellent Fratellos." He said.

"Well, if we find ourselves without jobs at Section 1, we'll look you up, hmm?" remarked Fermi.

"Are you planning to report this to your boss?" asked Giuseppe. Fermi snorted.

"Are you crazy?" he asked. "Even if I wanted to, I'm sure that Section 2 has destroyed the evidence by now." He paused. "Besides, there's no point to it." He muttered. May as well leave them with what peace they can find. He though sourly.

"Would you mind confirming something I've been wondering about since this started?" asked Elenora. The Fratello looked over at her. "The processes they go through - it shortens their lives, right?" she began. Giuseppe nodded. "So, they're all going to die within a few years, right?" she continued. Once more, he nodded. "Tell me, what are you going to do when Henrietta reaches that point?" she asked him. Giuseppe was silent for lengthy period.

"I'll deal with that when it happens." He said as last. "Who knows? We may not make it to that point." He added. Assassination is a dangerous game.

"You mean the attack on Rico-Jean?" guessed Fermi. The other man looked at him carefully. Fermi raised his hands a bit. "Hey, it's not like it's a secret in the Agency, you know?" he stated.

"Both of them are fine, and already back on duty." Deflected Giuseppe. Though that idiot should be resting!

"Heard an interesting bit of rumor." Baited Fermi. "Wanna hear it?" Giuseppe negligently waved. "I heard that an assassin out of France filled the order for the Congressman." He watched the Fratello's eyes intently.

"Really? All the way from France?" said the Section 2 handler. "Seems a bit excessive." He noted. France. Jean said she looked French.

"Ever hear of an assassin codenamed `Noir'?" Fermi asked innocently.

"Few haven't." countered Giuseppe. "But he retired a decade ago, right?" Fermi shrugged.

"You tell me." He replied idly. "Still, that's an ancient name, and it could be a new Noir out there." Giuseppe was frowning. Elenora noticed.

"Something wrong?" she asked.

"Hmm? Oh, nothing, that bit just seemed like de ja vu for a second." He replied. Where did I hear something about Noir and ancient something or other? Maybe something that Henrietta was telling me once?

"It's amazing what asking the right questions will get you." Muttered Mireille as she and Kirika drove toward a small, secluded spot on the far outskirts of Rome. Over the last five days, they had managed to get a fairly good idea of who they were dealing with, at least as far as the two they had run into were.

Sitting beside her in the small rented car, Kirika said nothing. It had been a long five days. Libraries, net research, meeting with contacts and bribing key people was not to the liking of either woman, but they liked loosing or being used even less. So, five days later, they had a basic overview of a governmental agency called the Social Welfare Agency. By following each thread back through arms dealers and front companies, they had determined that they were most likely to be behind units called Fratellos who seemed to be very adept at problem solving.

It had taken a full day just to learn where they nominal physical location of the Agency was. Now, they were going to see if it looked promising. Looking out the window, Kirika had one thought to share with her partner. "The scenery is beautiful." She said in her soft voice.

"Yes, it is." Agreed Mireille. Within a half hour, they saw the gated road that led behind some hills. Driving past the entrance, they went along until they were clear of any line of sight from the entrance. Pulling over, Mireille popped the hood of the car and tucked a bit of cloth into the door as she closed it. Looking over to Kirika, she tossed her head, the two moving through a field toward the side of the low hills. Both women were wearing cargo pants, tee shirts, bush jackets and boots. Their small packs held their guns, ammo, binoculars, water bottles, note pads and pencils and cameras.

The art of assassination is not just shooting. It is nearly as important to be able to out-think your mark as to be able to out shoot them. Thus, Kirika and Mireille were going to spend the day - maybe more - watching this place where the trail lead back to in order to more fully evaluate the situation. Moving slowly and steadily up the low hill, they kept sharp look out for any sensors, cameras, fences or check paths.

Not seeing any particular thing, they settled in just behind the ridge of the hill near some bushes, and began to look over the compound. Seeing it, they knew that they had the right address. Firing lines, urban assault courses, dormitory, armory buildings - it was definitely not an agency that welcomed visitors. Faintly, they could hear gunfire from one of the ranges. Glassing over, they saw some shooters working on the firing line.

With the compact binoculars they brought with them, they couldn't zoom in enough to make out faces, but then, they didn't have to. The shooters were all small, and that told them a lot. "Bet if we had a spotting scope we could find that little girl and the blonde man." Murmured Mireille. Kirika said nothing. Taking her pad out, Mireille began to count shooters and people in general, trying to get a feel for what they were up against. If they can field an army of those kids, we're in way over our heads here. She thought.

Next to her, Kirika was making a detailed sketch of the entire site. Silently, diligently, they worked at their task. Hours passed unnoticed to the two. Shift changes, movement, grouping and traffic patterns were noted, and occasionally photographed, though most of the work was done by hand to leave no trail.

It was late afternoon and they were in observation mode, watching and comparing the comings and goings to the notes, seeing if they could predict the changes based on their observations or not. "Mireille." Came Kirika's voice. Glancing over, she saw that Kirika was watching the ridge to their left.

"What?" asked the blonde. Silently, Kirika pointed. Following her partner's finger, she caught a flash of light and a bit of movement. Both women carefully shifted to look at the place with their binoculars. After a bit of searching, they saw four men watching the buildings below. They were well-camouflaged and situated nicely, but an errant bit of reflection from a ring had given them away to the sharp eyes of Kirika.

"They don't seem to have seen us." Said the Asian.

"I'm more interested in how long they've been there." Replied the European woman softly. "Were they there when we got here?" she asked. Kirika gave a small shrug.

"I don't recall seeing them, but then, there is no way of knowing." She said. Mireille studied the slope below them.

"Ah. I see." She murmured. "They came up that slight depression. That's why we didn't see them, and they didn't see us." She deduced. Kirika had no comment on that. "Well, what do you think we should do about them?" she asked the small girl next to her.

"I think we should introduce ourselves and ask if they have anything to share with us." Replied Kirika. Mireille's eyes opened a bit wider.

"If I didn't know better, I would say that that was a bit of humor." She marveled. Kirika just looked at her blankly. She sighed. "Right." She muttered.

Rico and Triela were in Claes's room again, having tea and talking when their enhanced hearing caught the sound of gunfire from the hills near the perimeter. There were two short bursts from a submachine gun, then two sets of double-taps, then silence. Moments later, the lights on the edge of the compound came on.

Conditioned to protect their handlers, the two at the table bolted through the door, looking for their Fratellos. Claes, not having a Fratello to guard, simply closed her book, slipped off her glasses and set them on top of her book before gracefully rolling off her bunk bed and exiting her room. From what she had heard, they would likely need her, even without a Fratello to work with.

In the hospital wing, Angelica heard the shots as well, and tried to move to go to her Fratello's side, but her body wasn't working right. Still, she managed to get herself out of the bed and began to crawl toward the door. A foot short of the door, it opened and Marco stopped, seeing her crawling for the door. "Angelica, what are you doing out of bed?" he asked her.

"There were gunshots on the perimeter." She said simply. "I have to be with you if this place is attacked."

"That's why we have support personnel." He reminded her. "Besides, you're body still isn't repaired." He added more gently. Angelica looked up at him, blinking.

"But, I…" she began. He sighed. Bending over, he lifted her in his arms and returned her to the bed.

"You need only worry about getting your body back in order, Angelica." Said the man firmly. Settling her back into the bed, he pulled up a chair. Fishing around in his jacket a bit, he pulled out a thin book. "Since you're worried about me, how about I stay here and read a bit while they get this sorted out?" he suggested. Angelica nodded.

While he began reading her the story, Triela was suiting up with Hillshire to go with the support team to check out the shooting. Rico stood next to Jean, an S551 assault rifle in her hands. Due to his injuries and the necessarily rough ride up the hill in a jeep, he and Rico had been assigned to back up status. Fastening the last snap on the load bearing vest, Triela jumped lightly into the jeep next to Hillshire. "Ready." She said evenly, her shotgun slung over her back, another of the Sig assault rifles in her hands.

"Be careful." Called Jean as his fellow Fratello shifted the stubby off-road vehicle into gear. "If it is those two up there, they will be a handful, even with Triela there." He cautioned. Giving him a thumbs-up, Hillshire put petal to metal, two more jeeps of support troops with him. I'd feel better if Giuseppe were here. He thought briefly. Looking over to Rico, he opened his mouth to say something, but saw Claes exit the dormitory building. She was unarmed, but she was still a cyborg.

Stopping beside the Fratello, she calmly watched the three jeep near the top of the ridge. "They should dismount to cover the last few meters." She said indifferently. "Those jeeps are too easy a target."

"Why are you here, Claes?" Jean asked her, his tone peeved. She turned to look up at him.

"This is my home." She said simply.

Mireille and Kirika were panting a bit as they jumped into the car and cranked it up, moving onto the road and accelerating. "Well, that could have gone better." Muttered the panting blonde.

"It couldn't be helped," began Kirika, "he was going to…"

"I know, Kirika." Interrupted Mireille. "I'm not blaming you." She added. Kirika was silent, watching Mireille drive. "We still came up empty, though." added the Corsican beauty.

"Perhaps." Murmured Kirika. "We did learn that another group is working the Fratello angle." She noted. "We may be able to learn more from knowing this fact." She pointed out. Mireille grimaced.

"We'll talk about this back at the room." She said, ending the conversation for the moment.

"There were two groups up there?" asked the director of Hillshire. The man nodded. It had been four hours since the shooting and they were in debriefing in the conference room. Triela was with her Fratello as was Rico. Claes was back in her room, reading.

"We managed to piece together what happened. Once group came up the side of the hill from the roadway, the other up a shallow run-off in the side of the hill about a half mile from the first. We found signs that the two groups had been watching this place all day, maybe longer. Judging from the footprints, the group from the road moved over to the other group.

"Judging from the positions of the bodies, the first group was ambushed by the second, but were in turn killed. Two were shot, and two were killed hand to hand." He paused, glancing at Jean, who just shrugged.

"More interesting is who the four dead men are." Continued Hillshire. The director quirked an eyebrow. "Two of them were Section 1 personnel, and the other two were unknown, but wearing the same gear as the Section 1 people." He reported.

"Section 1 is hiding in the hills when they can just walk in the front gate?" asked the boss, frowning. This doesn't bode well.

"Apparently, sir." Confirmed Hillshire.

"Anything on the second group? The ones that killed the four?" he asked. Hillshire shook his head.

"Not really. Two sets of prints, one smaller than the other, but both clearly from women's boots, four shell casings - hot-loaded 9mm this time - and damn near nothing else." He said.

"Well, it seems that the two are still around." Mused the Director. "But why? If the job was the Congressman, they should be gone by now. And yet, they have tracked us here, observed us, but then killed these other men instead."

"Most likely because we have seen them, but are still alive." Offered Jean. "As a team of assassins, they can't let something like that go, as it would make them far too vulnerable in their line of work. They might also be curious as to why they weren't able to destroy Rico. They had to of noticed that she wasn't normal."

"Or they could have taken a new assignment to kill one or more of us." Offered Marco.

"It's all speculation for now, so let's see how Section 1 reacts to the missing personnel. Get rid of the bodies, and make sure that there is no mention of this incident. We'll see if we hear from them or not." Decided the boss.

"Do we tell Henrietta-Giuseppe when they get back in a few days?" asked Jean. The head man considered that.

"We'll decided that later." He pronounced. "For now, let's stay close and see what come up."

"Thank you for the tea, Henrietta." Said Claes as she sipped the tea that Henrietta had brought back from Sicily. It was supposed to the best tea in Italy, according to the shop keeper. Henrietta had no idea if that were true, but figured that Claes would know.

"He said it is the best in all Italy." She smiled back. "Was he telling the truth?" she asked her fellow cyborg. Claes sipped the tea again, a thoughtful expression on her face.

"Well, if you limit the competition to Italy, I would agree." She allowed. "If it were to be compared to the teas from all over the world, it would come up considerably short of best." She allowed.

"I'm glad you like it." Enthused Henrietta. "I had a hard time deciding on what to get you all." She admitted. Triela had received a small silver charm crafted into a tie-stay, Rico had found a beautiful pair of soft, fine leather gloves in her bag, and Henrietta had delivered a beautiful hair ornament to Angelica.

"Why did you get these?" asked Rico. Henrietta smiled at her roommate.

"It's customary to get your colleagues little presents when you go on a trip." She explained. "Or at least, that's what Giuseppe says." She added. Naturally, the fact that her Fratello handler had told her that made it fact to her. "So, what did you all do while we were gone?" she asked the others. The three traded looks.

"Um, training and some other stuff." Answered Triela. The decision as to rather or not to tell Henrietta and Giuseppe about the visit the week before had never been announced to them. So, they hedged.

"Oh. You had jobs?" guessed the short-haired Henrietta.

"You could call it that." Dismissed Claes. Rico chose to say nothing about the matter. Henrietta had been asked by Giuseppe not to talk about the visit from Fermi and Elenora, not to mention that they knew about the cause of the Elsa-Lauro death. As an order from her Fratello, she wouldn't talk even under torture. Not that she didn't want to tell her friends about the trip. She had decided, however, that she could make them the same meal that she and Elenora had made for Giuseppe and Fermi.

"What are you smiling about, Henrietta?" asked Rico, looking at her roomie.

"I want to make you all a meal I learned to make in Sicily." She said, smiling. "But I need to go get some ingredients." She recalled. Standing, she headed for the door. "I hope Giuseppe will let me go get them." She said in parting. The door closed behind her and the three traded looks.

"Yeah, we do too." Muttered Triela.

While this was happening, Giuseppe was meeting with the boss. He wasn't liking what he heard. Standing near the door was his brother, watching impassively as the Director nut-shelled the events of the week before. "And even now, there has been no word from Section 1 about missing agents, or firefights, or anything. It's like they want nothing to do with the incident." Finished the boss.

"Have you requested to see the two who were killed? If you ask Section 1 to lend them to you for an assignment, they couldn't very well deny not knowing where they are." Suggested Giuseppe. The boss shook his head.

"No. That would open a can of worms we don't need right now." He said. "If I ask for them by name, it would tell them that I knew about them in the first place. Remember, our agent lists aren't shared directly - even with each other." He reminded the Fratello. "Better to use the missing agents as bait." He decided.

"And of the other team out there that night?" he asked. Jean stepped up a couple of steps.

"We are assuming them to be the same ones that attacked Rico and myself in Rome last month. Two women, very skilled." He said simply.

"Professionals." Murmured Giuseppe thoughtfully. "And yet, why are they still here?" he wondered. I think that it's time I looked into that rumor about `Noir' that Fermi was talking about in Sicily. "In any event, what are our plans?" he asked the boss.

"For the time being, we've been staying close to base. However, now that you and Henrietta are back, we have jobs that can't wait any longer." He said, handing Giuseppe a folder. Looking past the dark-haired brother to the fair-haired one, he tapped another folder against his knuckles. "Are you ready for field work again, Jean?" he asked the man.

"Yes." Said Jean simply. The boss made no move to hand him the folder.

"I'm not kidding with you, Jean. If you compromise an assignment because you aren't healed, you will be held accountable. Are you ready for field work?" pressed the boss. Jean nodded.

"If I fail, it will be because I am dead." He said evenly. The boss handed him the file. "You are both heading out tomorrow. Triela-Hillshire will accompany Rico-Jean as backup, Henrietta-Giuseppe are on independent assignment, but will have Ferro and her immediate team to back them up. Dismissed." He said simply.

Exiting the room, he found Henrietta waiting for him. "Henrietta, what are you doing here?" he asked her. She smiled up at him.

"I wanted to make the others that dish that I made for you in Sicily, but I don't have all the ingredients. Can we go get them so I can make the dish for them?" she asked him. Giuseppe slowly shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Henrietta, but we'll have to do it another night. We have a job tomorrow and we need to get ready. It's in Napoli, and it might take us a day or two to finish it." He said. Seeing her frown a bit, he had an idea. "Tell you what," he suggested to her, "if you write down what you need, I'll ask the staff to pick it up for us while we're out, ok?" he offered.

"Ok." She agreed immediately. Giuseppe handed her a small piece of paper and a pen. Swiftly, she wrote out the recipe ingredients and handed it to him. He looked it over.

"You remembered it all?" he asked her, impressed. She nodded.

"Yes. You liked it, right?" she asked, a bit anxiously. He smiled at her.

"It was delicious." He assured her. "And I'm sure the others will like it as well."

Mireille and Kirika had picked the pair headed for Florence. Not looking for a fight, they had hung back farther than usual and were simply going to watch them. Intel was a sometimes slow game, after all. "Well, at least the city is scenic." She mused to her partner. Kirika look at her over her cup of tea.

"Yes." She said without elaborating. Turning her eyes the other way, she watched the girl and man they had tangled with last month talking with another man carrying a briefcase. So far, all the two had done was go to a museum and eat dinner at a restaurant. Kirika had taken note of the dynamics at work between the two and it made her feel strange, the way the man handled the girl. Almost as if she were a gun or knife. She thought. She may, in fact, be just that. It was the thought that the girl might be a new kind of tool for her trade that made her feel strange. It was more a sense that she had been in that situation herself at a previous time. Even if she had, she still couldn't pin anything down in her mind.

"They're moving." She said softly to Mireille, who stood, dropping some lire on the table. Side by side, the two wave smoothly through the crowds, crossing the plaza with the throngs of tourists and day-trippers. Knowing that her looks were easily picked out of a crowd, Mireille had chosen to braid her hair and wear a baseball cap. Coupled with large, stylish sunglasses and utilitarian clothes, she was far less likely to catch anyone's eye. Kirika was dressed in a skirt and tee shirt, the skirt coming to her mid-thigh and the tee shirt bearing a simple geometric pattern of faint shadow line work.

"Museum. Again." Murmured the Corsican. Kirika nodded. Moving through the entrance, they followed the two deeper into the building, watching from a distance as they discussed art, sculptors and history.

"Mireille." Came the quiet voice of her partner. The two appeared to be deeply engrossed in a landscape mural, but their eyes were not looking at the painting. The two had noticed a pair of men following the three as well.

"I see them. Let's watch." Whispered back Mireille. Both girls were packing, and they had been careful to make sure their silencers were in place. The small travel bag over Kirika's shoulders held plenty of ammo for both her and Mireille, though the taller woman carried two back-up mags on her person for her silenced gun.

Impassively, they watched the blonde man become aware of the two, who had stepped back to make a cell phone call. Speaking with the girl and the man briefly, the blonde migrated away from the two, who sat on a bench in front of a marble sculpture. Kirika and Mireille had migrated to a better vantage point, apparently examining a vase of some sort.

The two men stepped into a bathroom, one remaining outside while the one with the cell phone stepped inside. Outside the door, the man pulled an `out of service' sign to the door. As he did that, the blonde man from Rome stepped up behind him and snapped his neck cleanly, stepping into the bathroom with the body as easily as if the two had simply gone in together. Kirika and Mireille traded looks.

Five minutes later, the man came out of the bathroom, straightening his tie as he walked straight back to the girl and the other man. All three moved for the exit. "Bathroom?" asked Mireille of her partner.

"Both dead. He probably called for a cleaning crew." Replied Kirika. "Or the police." She added. Both women moved after the men. If he had called the police, then they needed to be elsewhere. Silenced guns and dead bodies were troublesome to explain to gumshoes. Besides, they were interested in the two living people.

"Can you hear them?" asked Giuseppe of Henrietta. He, his contact and Henrietta were in a very exclusive restaurant in Napoli. Across the room were two men in the top rank of the Five Republics. Henrietta was listening in on their conversation.

"Yes." She said softly. "They are discussing abstract political theory." She said, frowning. "It sounds stupid." She added. Giuseppe chuckled.

"Anything of interest other than the politics?" he asked her, smiling at her.

"Hmm." She hummed, listening. The government service contact poured him some more wine. He had been a bit surprised when the promised help from the shadowy Section 2 turned out to be the mild-mannered Giuseppe and the girl at his side.

"More to the point, anything about a bomb?" he asked them both. Henrietta started to shake her head, then paused.

"Wait. The balding one just said that since De Racotti is dead, they will have to make alternate arrangements for the `package'." She said softly. A few moments passed, then she spoke again. "The shorter one said that he has a way of obtaining the necessary item from another source." Once more, she paused, listening. "And now they are leaving." She said, lowering her hand, which had been cupped behind her ear.

"Good job." Said Giuseppe, seeing her expectant look. "Have you finished your meal?" he asked her. She nodded.

"Well, we're done here, then." Said their government contact. "Let's get back to the office, shall we?" he suggested. Rising, they exited the restaurant. As they walked down the street, Henrietta asked if they shouldn't be following the two men. The friend laughed and said they had the two under surveillance and would act as soon as the bomb was delivered to them. For now, they were in waiting mode.

"Come back to Milan with us and you won't get hurt." Said the goon holding the gun on Antonio. Slightly behind him was Rico, who just watched impassively, and behind her was Jean. In front of them were two men with guns, and behind them were two men with guns.

"Alright, but these two have nothing to do with this. Especially the girl." Said the man, clutching his case.

"Then come along like a good little bookie and they'll live to see dinner." Smirked the goon.

"Now?" asked Rico, sounding almost eager.

"What?" asked the goon, confused.

"Now." Agreed Jean. In a blur, Rico was under his guard, her fist slamming into his unprepared gut far enough to hit his spine. It was a lethal blow. Shocked, the first of the men behind them started to bring his own gun up, but Jean simply stepped back and drove his elbow into the man's throat, crushing the larynx. Gurgling, he collapsed, dropping his gun. Rico dodged out from under the collapsing man in front, a Sig Sauer P229 clearing her coat as Jean stepped forward, a P230 in his hand. Rico double-tapped her man, Jean single-shot his in the head.

From the edge of an alley way half a block back, Mireille and Kirika watched it all unfold. Moments later, the three were running. Kirika looked up at her partner. Nodding, she indicated that they would be moving as well. Pulling their silenced guns free, they kept them low and tight as they moved along a parallel course. It was swiftly evident that the four men had friends. Still, from the shots, it seemed that the girl was doing good at covering fire. Tossing her head, Mireille ducked into another alley.

From the mouth of the alley, they could see groups of two and three men coming from several different directions. Crouched below Mireille as she usually was, Kirika swung her gun back and pulled the trigger twice. Glancing back down the alley, the blonde saw two men laying dead. It was a habit of Kirika's to do things like that, and it freaked her out. Ever since that fight in the resort hotel with Dux. She thought. She had come close to dying that night.

"They're moving." Said the girl, hearing some movement from the back of the building. Three men went in the front, and the two heard the distinct sound of teargas going off, followed by three single shots. The men outside the door flattened against the wall, uncertain of what to do. Mireille stepped around the corner and swiftly shot each one in turn before ducking back and running after Kirika. Can't follow them with this shit going on. Thought the woman.

Jean frowned when he heard the men falling. Risking it, he jumped down to the ground floor and peeked out the door, seeing the other men dead. No gunshots, so they're using a silencer. It might be them again. He thought, turning and running after Rico and Antonio. Things had just gotten more difficult.

"There." Said Kirika, looking around a corner. In front of her, they saw the girl jump on top of a wall maybe eight feet high as if it were but a step. Transferring her gun to her weak hand, she literally pulled the man up with her strong arm. As she was steadying him on top of the wall, a man popped out from the alley one closer to the two than where Noir watched them, and seeing the two, immediately opened fire.

The girl just threw her arm in front of her eyes as bullets hit her arm, side and head. The one that hit her side went through to the man, digging into his side. He grunted, crumpling a bit. Kirika stepped out into the ally, her gun coming up as the girl glanced at the man. Turning to shoot the man, she saw him dropping as the soft sound of a suppressed gun registered in her ears. Looking farther up the alley, she caught a flash of movement as someone dodged back into the alley.

"Rico!" came Jean's voice from the other side of the wall. "Move it!" he directed. Holding the man firmly, she jumped down and hustled off after Jean. Within two minutes, they were at the rendezvous point and loading their target into a van with Triela riding shotgun - literally.

"Anyone following?" asked Hillshire from the driver's seat.

"Maybe those two pros from Rome. Move." Directed Jean, closing the door. Hillshire immediately shifted into drive and moved off. Though they all kept a close eye out, they didn't see any sign of anyone behind them.

Mireille was not happy - at all. Kirika wasn't particularly brimming with joy and the sense of accomplishment, but then, she rarely got bent out of shape one way or the other. "This isn't what I had in mind for a discreet meeting." She observed to her partner. Kirika made no verbal reply.

The two were on the train back to Rome. Florence had been a wash, but they had managed to confirm some things. There were more than one of the odd teams out there. There were more than one groups after the strange teams. None of the groups seemed to be Soldats. The heavy-handed approach they had come to expect from the Soldats made it obvious that the people they had killed today were not Soldat.

Waiting for them in their room in the Rome hotel was a simple letter. Mireille gritted her teeth as she read the message. "They're beginning to piss me off with their antics." Growled the blonde, heading for the bathroom. Kirika read the note. I agree. She thought silently.

A small group of people stood by a police line in Napoli. Beyond the police line, several Carabinieri trucks sat, outside a smoking apartment. In the middle of the crowd, a blonde woman and a dark-haired man looked on. Exchanging looks, the woman called out to one of the armed men. "Excuse me, but what happened here?" she asked, sounding like a rubber-necking bystander.

"A terrorist cell tried to make a bomb, but the security forces got them first." Said the man. "Now, move along." He added. The two did as told, the man carrying a large briefcase. As they moved on, he glanced at the woman.

"Well?" he asked her, jiggling the case a little.

"Don't worry. They'll want another one." She said simply. "Still, that didn't look like any security agency hit that place." She murmured to him. He nodded.

"Think its Section 2 again?" he asked softly. She shrugged.

"Probably. They're a real pain in our sides." She said. Still, I don't like these Five Republic idealist any more than I like those cyborg assassins. She thought to herself. I wish that they would hurry up and deal with this situation. She thought. But, as a loyal member of the Soldats, she would do as told and not complain. After all, she and her brother were saved by the Soldats, and owed them their lives.

"Ferro, can I ask you to do me a favor?" asked Giuseppe of the senior support staff agent. She was also the only woman on the support staff at the moment. The two had just gotten back from the Napoli job, and given their report to the boss. Ferro looked over at him.

"What are you into?" she asked him directly. He glanced around to make sure that Henrietta was with Rico in the dorm before speaking.

"Were you serious? About wanting to take Henrietta to a dress shop?" he asked her. Frowning, Ferro nodded.

"Yeah." She said slowly. "Why?" she asked.

"I wanted to get her something nice for doing such an excellent job in Napoli, and thought that she could use a new dress. Unfortunately, I know nothing of dress shops." He said, shrugging. She giggled.

"Or of girl's fashions, either, I'll bet." She teased. He and Ferro had always gotten along good; better than any other Fratello who worked with the support staff, in fact. "Sure, I can help you out on this one." She agreed. "There's a nice little place that will have the perfect dress." She said, smiling at his expression. "Is it going to be ok with the boss for her to go with me?" she asked, back to business.

"He said as long as I was along, it was fine." Said Giuseppe. "And frankly, with the way things are right now with these two assassins, I wouldn't want to have her out there alone." He admitted. Ferro's smile dimmed at the mention of the assassins.

"Speaking of that, do you think that those two really were the ones that helped Rico-Jean out in Florence?" she asked him. Giuseppe nodded.

"Too much of a coincident to be coincidental, don't you think?" he asked her.

"But why?" pressed Ferro. He shook his head.

"I don't know, but it would make sense of they were after someone else, other than us." He noted.

"Which would make the attack on Rico-Jean the coincident." She countered. He shrugged.

"Sometimes, a coincident is merely that: a coincident." He philosophized. Ferro shook her head.

"Tell that to Jean - he's the one that got a bullet in the lung over a `coincident'." She said, waving. "Let me know when you want to do the dress thing." She said over her shoulder.

Kirika stretched and looked up at the morning sky. The two were having morning tea and breakfast in a small bistro in one of the nicer business districts. Once more, they had changed hotels. Once more, they had re-evaluated the situation. Once more, they were feeling very ill-humored at the way the Soldats were toying with them.

"Eating?" asked Mireille, tearing into the loaf of bread and dipping it into the spiced oil before biting into it. Silently, Kirika did likewise. She found the taste to be pleasant. Together, they finished off the bread before moving on to the main meal.

"So, we still haven't decided how to break their control of this situation, have we?" asked Mireille as the last of the breakfast was devoured. Kirika sipped her fresh cup of tea. Seeing that her small partner had no intention of speaking, Mireille finished her own tea. "Well, if we're going to be here cooling our heels, we might as well take some paying work." She said.

Kirika understood that her partner meant the contract that they had been sitting on for a while now. Still, it seemed…odd to the girl. The client had shown no signs of wanting a fast answer, and hadn't offered it to anyone else. Almost as if they were trying to… she froze at that thought. "Mireille." She said softly, capturing the blue eyes of her partner. "I believe I have an answer." She said.

Ferro watched Henrietta carefully inspect the dress she had helped her pick out. "Do you think that he'll like this one?" asked the young cyborg of the older woman. Ferro considered that.

"He should. You look lovely in it, and it is suitable for work." She noted. Henrietta blushed a bit as she looked at herself in the mirror. It was a nice dress, without frills to get in the way, but still sporting an elegant look. She turned her body a time or two more.

"I…think he'll like it too." She said, blushing a bit more. Ferro smiled. Killer or not, she's still a young girl who wants the attention and approval of a man.

"Then, let's get it." Suggested the support agent, standing.

"Um, miss Ferro?" asked Henrietta hesitantly. The woman looked down at the enhanced assassin. "Do you think…we should get some shoes to go with this?" she wondered. Ferro almost fell over laughing. I don't know what the shrinks are so concerned about - she's as regular as any girl I've ever known!

Giuseppe was sitting in the car, patiently waiting while Ferro assisted his unit in finding a dress. Truth be told, he was glad he didn't have to make a fool of himself to get Henrietta a new dress. Of all the Fratello girls, Henrietta was the one who most often wore women's clothes. Triela wore female suits, but they were still suits. Claes wore dresses, but rarely left her room except for testing sessions. Rico wore boy's pants and shirts. Angelica - when her body wasn't acting up - wore skirts about half the time. Henrietta wore skirts or dresses all the time except for when the mission expressly called for something else.

"I suppose I should also thank Elenora for the suggestion." He mused, remembering the small note laying on top of his gun in the house in Sicily. Her suggestion of dresses from time to time was brilliant. He admitted to himself. He had never really thought of buying her a new dress every so often. `Girls like to have new dresses from time to time, Giuseppe.' How smart. His thoughts were interrupted by his cell phone.

Fishing it out, he checked the screen. "Email?" he wondered. Opening the message, he felt a chill run down his spine. Saving the message, he punched in a number. When the other party connected, he said simply: "We have a bite." And ended the call. Now, to see if they could link the name to the team of assassins. Seeing Ferro and Henrietta exit the shop, he slipped out of the car and waited. The two carefully placed a covered dress in the trunk. Seeing Giuseppe start to move for the car, Ferro shook her head.

"Not quite, Giuseppe." She said, smiling. "A lady needs more than just a new dress, right Henrietta?" she said. The girl looked at Giuseppe.

"If it's ok with you, I was wanting to see about some shoes to match the dress." She asked. Her conditioning made her loyal to him to the point that if he had even frowned, she would have dropped it, and he knew it. So he smiled instead.

"If Ferro will help, it sounds like a good idea." He said. The two women exchanged smiles.

"Did you get them?" asked Mireille of her partner. Kirika nodded.

"I got them." She said simply. The two began to walk along the street. Approaching the car, the two made ready.

"Now, for the hard part." She said softly, the two splitting to go on either side of the car. Taking a deep breath, touched her gun. Just in case. She thought. Just ahead of her, she saw her target. Smiling, she caught Kirika in her peripheral vision. Time to earn some daily bread. She thought.

Seven seconds later, three men lay dead and no one in the plaza knew it for several minutes. While Kirika had handled the kills with her bare hands and a pair of forks, Mireille was searching for their true target. And she found it shortly after.

Moving into position, she closed on the objective of the exercise. There were two men she wanted to get her hands on, and as predicted, they had been there to watch the hit go down, but hadn't picked up on her yet. Or so she hoped. "Down!" came Kirika's voice, her Beretta M1934 already firing, sans silencer. At her voice, Mireille had dove toward the ground, coming up after a short roll, her own Walther up and ready. Kirika was changing magazines behind a car, and as she did, two shots smacked the car in front of the Asian girl, barely missing her.

"There." Muttered Mireille to herself, spotting the sniper's position. Dodging toward a doorway, she caught a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye. Turning toward it, she dropped the hammer on the man moving toward her as she heard Kirika's gun speak again. The man dropped, and Mireille started toward the door again. A bullet sizzled past her face, and she went for cover again.

"On the right." Came Kirika's voice, and she turned to see a teenage girl with twin ponytails racing toward her. Brining her gun on target, she pumped two rounds toward the girl, who just threw her arm over her face. Just like the other one! Thought Mireille.

"She's one of them!" called the Corsican, emptying her magazine at the girl, who was forced to dive for cover. She felt Kirika grab her arm.

"This way." Hissed the girl, dropping two tear gas grenades at their feet as she and Mireille sprinted off at top speed.

"You WHAT?!" snarled Giuseppe, stepping into his brother's face. Jean didn't flinch. Beside him, Rico took a step toward her Fratello, as Henrietta took a step to block Rico. Giuseppe caught the movement of the two. "Henrietta, no." he said, his tone calmer than before. We're not going to have that problem again. He thought, remembering the firing line incident with Claes and her short-lived Fratello. It had been a simple issue of the girls protecting their Fratellos, as they had been conditioned to do, but it had nearly ended up as a war between Claes and Henrietta.

"Rico, stand down." Said Jean. "Let's talk about this elsewhere, brother." He suggested, calm and even. "Rico, please go look in on Triela." He suggested.

"And you should start to prepare dinner, Henrietta." Added Giuseppe. Both girls moved off. Jean tossed his head toward the door that led outside. The two brothers stepped out. "Hope they don't hold grudges." Muttered Giuseppe, though it wasn't clear if he meant the assassins or the two Fratello units.

"Back to the matter at hand." Said Jean, straight to the point. "I took the opportunity to sanction the two assassins." He said simply.

"But they shot up Triela and escaped, causing quite the public scene." Replied Giuseppe. "Good thing that Hillshire had the sense to stay out of their line of fire." He added. "What were you thinking, Jean?" he asked, exasperated. "Are you that pissed that they shot you?"

"Hardly." He replied in a disinterested tone. "They have, however, been a major concern to us, and the decision to sanction them was agreed to." He noted. "As for the incident, we'll put the story out that it was another terrorist act of the Five Republics and it will be forgotten." He added.

"Not by them, it won't." pointed out Giuseppe. "And did you consider that now they know another Fratello team? They also seem to have picked up in the vulnerabilities of the bodies, as well; they were shooting for her head, Jean." He pointed out.

"Next time, we just won't miss." Countered his brother. Giuseppe gritted his teeth. He's always been this way, damn it. He thought angrily.

"And who are you going to send?" he asked. "If you send Angelica and she has a problem, you will lose both of them." He cautioned. "As for me and Henrietta, I'd prefer to try to find a better way of handling them." He said. Jean just looked at him steadily.

"And what better approach do you think you can use, brother?" he asked the dark-haired man.

"I'm beginning to not care who or what the Soldats are up to here in Italy." Said Mireille, reassembling her gun. "Let's just pack it in and go back to Paris." She suggested. "We don't have to fight this fight."

Kirika finished her own reassembly and seated a loaded magazine. Cycling the slide, she safed her pistol and set it aside before beginning to reload her magazines she had expended that day. Her body language spoke clearly to Mireille.

The laptop chimed. Climbing to her feet, the blonde assassin stepped over to the computer and checked the email. "Well, well." She said sarcastically. "We've got mail." Kirika looked over at her. "This time, it's addressed to Noir and signed `the Fratellos'. Charming." She bit out. "Well, to hell with them." She said, deleting the email.

Giuseppe checked the email inbox again, but there had been no response. "Think they're gone for good this time?" asked Hillshire, looking over his shoulder. Giuseppe grimaced.

"For our sakes, let's hope not." He said. "If we leave it like this, it's going to be a problem down the road." He predicted. Thanks to Jean's impulsive need to kill them, we might have made a true enemy in the business. And that is not good, especially if Noir is networked as well as they seem to be. "How's Triela?" he asked the fellow Fratello.

"Repaired." Said the man. Giuseppe started to close the program when a new message appeared. Opening it, he frowned.

"What is this?" he wondered. The two were interrupted by Henrietta knocking on the door to tell them that dinner was ready. As a way of trying to minimize any friction between her and Rico as a result of the near-fight between him and his brother, the two had decided to share a meal together with the others, to smooth things over.

So, Henrietta had once more made the meal she had learned from Elenora in Sicily. Finding Jean and Rico already seated at the table, he and Hillshire slid into seats opposite Henrietta's and Triela's places. Past them, Angelica and Marco were next to Giuseppe and Henrietta, with Claes at the free end of the table. She and Angelica were talking while the meal was being served. Part of a snippet of conversation caught his ear, and he turned to look at Claes. "What was that, Claes?" he asked the girl. She looked at him in that distant way of hers.

"What was what?" she asked calmly.

"That bit you were reciting just a moment ago." Clarified Giuseppe.

"Just something that I read in a book a while ago." She said. "It from an old manuscript from the Langolin monastery. It was supposed to be copied from an older work, but no one knows."

"Can you repeat it again?" he asked her. She studied him a moment, then nodded.

"Yes, if you want." She agreed. Jean was frowning at his brother, while Hillshire was looking interested. The other girls traded glances, then turned to listen to Claes. "The passage goes like this:

The man within the man

The love within the love

The sin within the sin

The hermit told unto the sinner

The Soldat is with truth

"Of course, the rest of the passage was lost to time, though there were more words at one point." Said the girl before taking a forkful of food and chewing. "This is quite good, Henrietta." She said.

"What's got you interested in this matter, Giuseppe?" asked Jean. Giuseppe's mind was running at a thousand miles a minute. "Brother?" prompted Jean.

"It's nothing, it just sounded familiar." Deflected Giuseppe. Taking a mouthful of the food, he smiled at Henrietta. "You've gotten even better at this, Henrietta." ." Jean could smell a rat a mile away, but knew his brother well enough to know that he wouldn't talk about it until he was ready. Tucking into his own plate, he had to admit - to himself only, of course - that it was excellent.

Once more, the duo of killers were checking out of the hotel. This time, they were heading home to Paris. No more being lead around by the proverbial nose, no more crossing swords with these freakish kids who ignored bullets. Time to leave Italy. Kirika was impassive, but she could tell from the girl's body language that she felt that they should dig deeper before packing it in. But I'm not planning on waiting around here for them to take another shot at me. She thought.

As they approached the desk to check out, the clerk handed her a single envelope. "This arrived for you an hour ago, miss." He said. Mireille took the envelope, grimacing as she looked at it.

"Enough is enough." She snarled, taking the note in hand in preparation to tear it in half. Kirika's look stopped her. The soft brown eyes were steady, and it was clear what the smaller girl was suggesting. Sighing, she opened the envelope. Withdrawing a single small card, she read it, frowning. Silently, she handed it to Kirika, who read it too.

"Mireille?" came her soft voice. The blonde exhaled in defeat.

"Fine." She said simply, handing the clerk her room key. "Let's get this done, already." She said.

From a small cyber café, Mireille logged on and found an email waiting for her. Opening the email, she read it carefully. Kirika silently sipped some tea. "Well, it is the manuscript again, like before." Announced Mireille.

"Do we meet them again?" came the reply from Kirika. Mireille wasn't keen on that idea. Still, we could make up for the lost time here by getting a look at that thing. If they have all of it. She amended.

"Let's see if they're serious this time." She said slowly. Typing, she completed her message and sat back. "If we haven't heard from them within the next hour, we're gone." She announced to Kirika. The girl nodded.

Ten minutes passed before her email program chimed. Blinking, she checked the message. "That was fast." She muttered. Scanning the message, she pulled out a city map and consulted it. "Doable." She concluded. Kirika stood.

"Where to?" she asked simply.

Giuseppe silently drove to meet these two. Next to him sat Henrietta, her Amati case in her hands. He checked the rearview mirror once again. Still no sign of them. Hopefully, they won't figure it out until it's over. He thought. Henrietta noticed his concern.

"Is something wrong?" she asked her Fratello. He glanced at her.

"Not really, Henrietta." Said the man, smiling at her reassuringly.

"Are you sure we shouldn't have asked for backup for this?" she asked. "These people seem really dangerous." She noted. Having her co-workers going in to be repaired after each encounter with the assassins wasn't something that made her feel that they would easy to deal with.

"I'm sure." He said. Besides, we're the only Fratello left who haven't shot at them. "And on that note, Henrietta," he cautioned her, "do not over react to them. Understood?" he reminded her. She nodded.

"Yes." She said. "But I will protect you!" she added.

"I know you will." He replied. The conditioning sees to that. Ahead, he saw the meeting place. After a moment spent finding a parking spot, he and Henrietta entered, finding a comfortable spot. With coffee in front of him and some tea for Henrietta, he waited. It was about fifteen minutes later when he heard a soft voice from behind him.

"Don't move." It said simply. "If you do, you die." The voice added. Henrietta tensed, but he raised one finger to remind her to go easy. She settled back. "I am going on the assumption that she is bullet-resistant like the others, and I have made arrangements to have enough on hand to deal with her. So be sure to keep her under control." Warned the voice. "Now, let's talk."

"I presume that I'm speaking to Noir?" he said softly, sipping his coffee.

"You are." Came the reply. "What does it matter?"

"I want to know if you're after us or another target." He said without preamble.

"You let on as if you already knew." Taunted the voice. "We came here on contract, filled that contract, but were stiffed on the promised pay. During that time, we crossed your paths." Continued the voice. "We have no interest in you other than your attempts to kill us."

"We're not apologizing for that." Giuseppe made clear. "We're all professionals, after all. Nothing personal and all that."

"Of course." Came the crisp reply. "You have the manuscript?" she asked.

"No." he said immediately. "What we do have is the part I emailed you, and another part of it." He said.

"So, two quotes, then." Interpreted the woman. "Nice, but not worth your life." She noted. Henrietta tensed. Giuseppe touched her hand and she sat back. "What do you have that you think will make it worth letting you walk out of here?" she asked.

"I was hoping to trade information for information." He said softly. "I offer assistance in helping you find what you seek in exchange for you leaving Italy and not looking back." He said.

"Interesting." Allowed the woman. "Let's see some good faith." She challenged. Giuseppe smiled. Here we go. He thought.

"The name Noir is very old, right?" he opened. "I happened to hear this recently:

Noir

The name of an ancient fate

Two Maidens who govern death

The peace of the newborn

Their black hands protect.

"Catchy, hmm? When taken in conjunction with the first passage, it indicates that you are looking for someone or something called Soldats." He played his biggest card. Silence was his greeting. Patience. He cautioned himself. Let the bait work.

"We were promised information on a Soldat of high standing here as part of the contract on the congressman. We were given some false data. The one who sent it to us has been dealt with. We still seek the Soldat." Came the reply.

"Then, might I suggest that we see if we can find this person or thing to more swiftly get you out of Italy?" he suggested urbanely. We're in!

"Giuseppe, you better have a good explanation for disappearing for most of the day on unauthorized activities." The Direct began when he and Henrietta arrived back at the base about an hour past sundown. He nodded.

"Yes, sir. The assassins have been dealt with, sir." He said simply. Jean blinked at him. He was in the conference room with the other Fratellos. Henrietta had gone to see the other girls.

"And how did you manage that, brother?" wondered the man. Giuseppe turned to look at him.

"They are professionals, brother. Give them what they were promised for a job, and they go away happy." He said simply. "And in this case, giving them what they wanted also gave us what we wanted." He announced, handing a sheet of paper to the boss. Reading it, he frowned.

"This better be on the up-and-up, Giuseppe." He warned him.

"It is, but it doesn't matter now, does it?" replied Giuseppe. "By now, they've got what they came for, and we've gotten rid of a major problem for free." He said.

"What did you do, Giuseppe?" demanded Hillshire. "Ever since you read that email and heard that passage Claes recited, you've been acting like you know something we don't."

"Triela and Rico didn't need to get shot up, and Jean certainly didn't have to take a bullet in the lung." Replied Giuseppe. "Here's how it worked out:" he began his explanation.

"So they just left?" asked Rico. Once more, they were drinking tea in Claes's room. Henrietta nodded. "Why? They've shot at us, so why not shoot you and Giuseppe?" she wondered.

"Because we didn't shoot at them, Rico." Explained Henrietta. "Like I said, they weren't after us, but when we shot at them, we made ourselves their enemy."

"I see. It wasn't in their contract to kill us." Murmured Triela. "If we had left them alone, they would have left us alone, right?" she prompted. Henrietta nodded.

"What's to prevent them from coming back after us if they get a contract on us?" asked Claes. Henrietta frowned.

"Nothing, I guess. But Giuseppe said that since we share an enemy, they probably won't come after us." She said. "Though they will kill some of the people it the agency." She added, unconcerned.

"What?" asked Angelica, sounding worried.

"None of us, Angelica. Just some people in Section 1. Giuseppe said they were better off dead, and since they have been toying with these two, they should pay the price."

"Not to mention, this gives us a way of getting outside help if the situation arises." Analyzed Claes. "Well done, Giuseppe." She murmured, turning a page.

Kirika stepped over the body of her latest victim, changing magazines as she went. From ahead of her, she heard the soft sound of Mireille's silenced P99. She moved toward the rendezvous point. With the information the man had given them, she and Mireille had managed to unearth the Soldat.

And now, they were within moments of meeting him and discussing some things with him. Turning the corner, she shot a man before he realized that she was there. Onward, she cleared two rooms before making the corner into the hallway, seeing Mireille doing likewise from the top down. Together, they approached the office they wanted.

After listening for a moment, Kirika nodded to Mireille, then kicked the door open, rushing forward as they crashed back. "Knock, knock." Called Mireille to the man sitting at the desk. He made no reply. "We're here for some Q&A about the Soldats." She said, moving closer.

"We're Noir, in case you didn't know." Added Kirika. Still no reaction. Frowning, Kirika moved to the opposite side of the room from Mireille, covering the angle that her partner couldn't. When they could see the back of the chair, Mireille groaned.

"Damn it." She said, lowering her gun. "Looks like our friend Cloe was here." She said, indicating the knife driven through the back of the chair and into his brain stem. "Let me guess: no point in searching for clues, either, right?"

"Probably not." Agreed Kirika, touching the man. He was still slightly more than room temp. "This was recent. No more than an hour." She noted. For a moment, they stood there, silent. Then, Mireille spoke.

"Come on, partner. Let's go home." She said.

In a great room in a castle in Germany, several men were holding a conference. It was far from the first one they had held - and also far from the first one held about this matter. "Our top agent in Italy was killed by Noir." One of the men spoke. "With him gone, we have suffered a massive setback in obtaining a means of making our own Noir, separate from that witch Altena."

"Her and her stupid `trials' be damned!" agreed another. "I saw we stop playing around and have our knights sanction them already." He proposed.

"Let's not be too hasty, my brothers." Spoke the oldest of the group. "There is a reason that we, the Soldats, have maintained a Noir through the ages. We must act with sober judgment." He cautioned them.

"Sober judgment is to have this pair eliminated. We can start again with a new pair from our pool of candidates." Noted another of the group.

"I agree. This pair is entirely too close to Altena's camp for my comfort." Weighed in another of the group.

"We already have the blessing of the Soldat Council to `test' this pair, so let us truly test them." Argued the first man. "I call for a vote: all in favor of having the knights in Paris sanction them, say `aye'."

All agreed, save the oldest of the group. "Do as you will." He said.

End

Notes: This is just a brief idea that came to me when watching Gunslinger Girl and Noir during the same day. The capabilities of the girls in GSG seemed uncannily like those of Kirika in Noir, and I thought that if the Soldats were serious, they would try to grab some of the cyborgs for use as Noir units, since relying on just heavy conditioning can fail, as it did with Mireille and Kirika. Thus, the best place for a Soldat to be is as the head of Section 1, so they could shut the program down and take it over.

As far as where this fits, well, before the episode of Gunslinger Girl where they use Claes as bait for a kidnapping, and before the mass assault on the apartment of Mireille and Kirika.