NationStates Jolt Archive


Private Contracts (Wide Open, hitman for hire)

Generic empire
29-01-2008, 02:47
In Generia’s intricate society of Emperors and warriors, priests and peasants, nobles and rebels, Generians, Alberians, and Buchianans there had always been a place for assassins to ply their trade. While not exactly a common occurrence, neither had it been rare for a notable public official, wealthy businessman, or even a simple town drunk to go missing. There were, of course, investigations and foul play was never ruled out, but it was easy to lose one’s life in the bureaucracy. The men who made the dark arts their own were many and varied, from different regions, different classes, and with different motivations. They were hired by gangsters, corporate executives, and princes alike; men who didn’t ask questions and expected none in return. Their hands were all bathed in blood; few remembered the sound of the voice of their conscience, and fewer still called upon God. Even so, among this savage subclass there was one who stood out. Indeed, in the long and bloody history of Generia, there had never been a man quite like him…

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“You’re telling me that he’s resurfaced? Now, after fifteen years?” said a bespectacled Generian man of short stature and slight build. His face was almost mocking, so steeped in disbelief was he. He directed this expression at another gentleman who sat across from him, one of similar age, though with more hair on his head and a stronger physique; an obvious military man as the trained eye could rapidly detect.

“I’m just telling you what I heard,” he replied, in a hushed voice. He didn’t want the other patrons on the terrace of the sunlit Sofia café to overhear him.

“Where did this even come from?”

“reliable sources.”

It was all he was going to let on, obviously. Military intelligence had always been somewhat less than eager to share their sources with GIIS.

“Look, it’s not like I don’t trust you, but you have to understand, this guy hasn’t even been a blip on the radar screen for over a decade.”

“He was your asset.”

“You don’t get it, do you? This guy was the asset. He answered directly to General Mustko, the old head of the inter-agency committee. Might have well answered to the Emperor himself. No one ever saw him. We only heard about him through stories passed down the chain of command; or when somebody really important died.”

“What’s your point then? Even if he was off-record, somebody had to know him. What about this Mustko?”

The bespectacled man laughed.

“Mustko’s dead, man. He disappeared around the same time they say we lost Mr. Black.”

The other man leaned over.

“Keep your voice down, will you?”

“Jesus, it’s not like he’s the fucking boogeyman.”

“From the way people are talking these days, he might as well be.”

“Listen,” the man replied, taking a sip from his glass, “why are you even telling me this? What’s your damn point.”

“Like I said, he’s resurfaced.”

“How?”

“A blip on some of the old channels. Uncoded.”

“So? Who’s to say it’s not one of the other assets trying to make contact, or having a laugh? We lost a lot of people in those purges, Dmitri.”

“It’s him. We’re sure.”

“So? If he’s broadcasting, just go get him.”

“Are you insane? This man’s a ghost. You know his history. He’d probably kill me as soon as I authorized any operation against him.”

The man was sweating visibly as he said this. “We need your help.”

The other man raised his hand, to calm Dmitri.

“I still don’t get why you’re so jittery. What did he say, if it even is him?”

“Listen to me,” he said, leaning in very close. “He’s going public.”

His companion leaned back.

“What?”

“You heard me. It’s the worst case scenario. One of your assets gets loose, goes off the radar, and comes back in business for himself. He’s offering his services.”

There was complete silence.

“Shit, Dmitri.”

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“Welcome back, Mr. Black. It’s a pleasure to be working with you again.”

The script flashed plain across the screen of his PDA. He smiled, and entered his reply.

“No time for pleasantries, Mr. Smith. I hear you’ve secured work for me.”

The script again appeared on the screen.

“More than you can do in a week.”

“I’ll take that bet.”

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OOC: So, in short, Generia’s most dangerous government-trained assassin has come out of hiding and gone into business for himself. Now it’s your turn. Submit a contract on the life of any character you’d like, within your own borders preferably. Please include some minimal biographical details, location, how much you’re willing to pay, and whatever else seems relevant. I’m looking forward to some challenging hits.