a salute to murder [traeven/p]

•• The offer had been intriguing, to say the least. A lot of money to be made if she accepted. Leaning back in her comfy seat in first class, Keira closed her eyes, wanting to catch a couple hours of sleep, before the plane landed, but found herself thinking over the proposal instead. About a week ago, a young man from the United States had hunted her down at her residence in Ireland and refused to leave when the help told him that she wasn’t home. One of the guards had finally gone to tell her that she had a guest that refused to leave and Keira had been forced to stop what she was doing - which at the time had been going over her weapon’s inventory - and check out what the commotion was all about. It had quickly become apparent that the young man standing nervously but resolutely in her manicured, cream double doors was here to offer her a contract. She had taken the paper work he had to offer her and he had then left upon request. She had looked through the information, the money offered, the guide-lines. It had intrigued her, that the USA’s military wanted to hire her into their hunter program. Her reputation as an assassin seemed to have gone farther than she had though if it had reached their ears. But she had called the number and declined the offer. The money, while tempting, wasn’t enough for her, and she had business to take care of here, not in the US. The next day, the young man returned, with another folder. Amused, she had taken it from him and read through it. They were offering her more money and a contract that was more favorable. Seemed they really wanted her. This time, she accepted, realizing this could actually work in her favor if she could dig her claws into the criminal organizations in the US.

•• So now the assassin was on her way to a Marine base in the United States to get “briefed” on whatever mission or assignment they intended to stick her on. According to what she had gleaned from the contract, she was to working with a man by the name of Traeven Ivoro de Ryette. She had gone into her database upon accepting their offer and had had her hacker get his drivers license, and pretty much his entire life-story. Pulling the folder out from her backpack, she glanced over it once more. She had everything she needed to know about him here, more in fact, everything from physical description to his past to his contract with the military. She always did a background check on potential new clientele and “partners”, always wanting to be a few steps ahead of those around her, always wanting to know exactly who she was going to be dealing with. She assumed the US had done the same with her anyways, but she also knew that there was very little known about her that was actually true. Other than her main residence, her general physical appearance that appeared on her drivers license, and a rap sheet that wasn’t even entirely accurate due to her talents at never being caught, they had very little. She had never been convicted of anything, hadn’t spent so much as an hour in jail. But her reputation was well known. Everyone knew she was a killer, even if a court couldn’t prove it. She had made sure of that when she had had all the information on her wiped and edited, her finger prints wiped from the system, every precaution taken. In effect, they only knew about her what she wanted them to know. And she preferred it that way. Unless there was something she didn’t know about... the idea of which was not appealing to her in the slightest.

•• It was some time in the evening when Keira drove up to the gate of the military base in her rental car. It was a silver Audi R8, sleek and fast with a high-revving 4.2-liter engine that delivered 430 horsepower at 7,900 rpm, claiming a 0 to 62 mph time of 4.6 seconds... but it still left her missing her Ferrari 458 Italia convertible at home, a 4.5 liter V-8 engine with 562 horse power and 9000 rpm, a 7-speed DCT, able to reach 60 miles per hour in a mere 3.5 seconds, and with a top speed of 198 miles per hour. Keira loved her luxury sports cars. Give her any Italian or German car and she could probably rattle off it’s specs. Her now-dead father figure from the time she was nine had loved Italian and German car makers - Lamborghini, Ferrari, Mercedes Benz, etc. - not so much though of American cars. Thusly, Keira had scoffed at the idea of renting a POS on her stay in the US and had immediately gone to the nearest car dealership she could find and had gotten herself a much nicer ride than what the rental-ship had offered. Goodness knew she could afford it. Driving up to the gate now, Keira leaned out the window to pass the man standing at the front her Hunter ID, which was to give her access to the base and allow her to get to the Administrative building she was meant to go to to be briefed. She was waved through and thusly Keira found a parking spot and then went to find her way to the building and room she was being sent to.

•• She found herself walking down the hall toward the door she had been sent to. She was dressed in dark blue skinny jeans, knee-high Faux Suede leather boots with three inch heels, and a black long-sleeved, snug-fitting shirt with a V-cut neckline. Her hair, dyed black, fell loosely around her face and down her shoulders to the bottom tips of her shoulder-blades. Stopping in front of the door, she sat down smoothly in a chair upon hearing voices inside. She was early, typical for her - she didn’t show up late because it gave people the opportunity to become more acquainted with the idea that she was coming - and so calmly waited for her turn. Security had taken her semi-automatic and other “potential hazards” away, which had been to be expected, but even without those, she wasn’t someone to be messed with. She had been vaccinated against the virus after all and was now something of a super human as a side-effect. She didn’t have to wait long and then a burly man left the room. She glanced at him skeptically, glancing over him and rolled her eyes at the slamming of the door. The man gave her a confused look when he spotted her though, and she merely smiled sweetly back as she slid to her feet and walked purposefully toward the door.

•• Two soft knocks and she let herself in, moving into the room and glancing around her casually before fixing her bottle-green eyes on the young man behind the desk. He had your typical soldier appearance; buzz cut, trim figure, around six feet of lean muscle, broad chested, dirty blonde hair, blue-gray eyes. She offered him a polite smile, though her eyes gleamed with a hint of mischief, but for now, she was on her best behavior. She didn’t have a death wish. She was not on her own turf and she was surrounded by other hunters who had the same capabilities she did. So she sat in her seat, listened the the young Marine talking, nodding at the appropriate moments, taking the folder he offered her. She signed a couple documents, glancing over them as she did so. Once she was done, she was told to head off to meet her partner, this intriguing Traeven-character. From what she had read about him from what her hacker had been able to figure out, his family had a long history of hunting the supernatural and the idea of meeting him was interesting to say the least.

•• So now Keira was heading back to her car. As she slid her hand behind the handle to pull open the door, the car made a soft beeping sound, recognizing the keys in her pocket and auto-unlocking for her. Sliding into the drivers seat, buckling up, and starting the engine by pushing the “power” button, she backed out of her spot and headed for the gate - usually she wasn’t opposed to walking but the base was like a mini city and she didn’t feel like walking all the way to the main gate only to have to walk back to grab her car when they - presumably - left. Driving through the streets, still amused that they even had stop signs and traffic lights in the place, she got back to the main gate, parked near it, and got out, locking it by pushing the little lock button on the driver’s side door handle and headed to the gate, her eyes scanning for her new “partner.”