Elevator

Smoke

An hour had passed since they last said anything. The sounds of people talking and power tools could be heard outside, albeit muffled to the point you couldn't make out what exactly was going on.

Hazen sighed. "I know I said I wouldn't bother you, but could you make that your last cigarette?"

Katire quickly finished the current one, put it out on the floor, tossed the butt into an empty cigarette box, and then lit another.

"Oh come on, it's getting hard to breath." Hazen complained.

"What, is this thing air tight?"

Hazen sighed. "It might be if the guys outside fuck up. Even if it's not you're making enough smoke that it'll suffocate us regardless."

"God, fine. This one will be my last for now."

"Thank you."

Katire continued to smoke, savoring her last one for the day. "Is it really that bad already?"

"You have been smoking for an entire hour non stop" Hazen was baffled. "What are you? Blind? You can see the smoke in here."

You could, infact, see the smoke in the elevator. It had gotten that bad.

"You're just not used to it. Shocking for someone who works with the kind of people you do." Katire tapped the ashes onto the ground, a proper pile had formed about 20 minutes ago.

Hazen just glared at Katire for a moment before responding. "Yeah.. any smart person would have a no smoking rule in thier main office to prevent nicotine stains. But no, no. Assume I don't care about the fabric of the furniture or all the other stuff in there."

"You could just get it cleaned monthl-"

Hazen interrupted right before Katire finished. "I can not stress, how much it costs to properly get the smell out without hiring a proper guy."

"What, I thought you could just.. hire some guy and it'll be done?"

"Unlike you, I don't have a separate room for all the.. less legal prizes I have."

"Like..."

"Guns."

"You live in america, what's the problem?"

"There are still rules that ban some types or mods you know."

Katire hesitated. "..Like..?"

"I plead the fifth." Hazen went to take a sip out of thier cup with a smirk on thier face, then realized it was still empty.

"Alright fine, I won't ask about your fancy fucking guns."

The two were silent for a while, Hazen being the one to finally speek up.
"Sooo.. How do you kill your victims"

"That's basically the same question as WhAt IllEgAl GuNs Do YoU hAvE iN yOuR oFfIcS?" Katire mocked

"No it's not! It's like asking you how you do your job!" Hazen shouted back.

"An illegal job!"

"You asked about my office!"

Katire wildly gestured towards Hazen. "At least I was polite enough to back down you god damn short-ass pom-pom of a prick!"

"Henenemmgh" Hazen muttered, incoherently.

She sighed. "Look, how about no talking about job stuff?" Katire suggested.

"Yeah yeah fine." Hazen muttered, actually speaking words this time.
"Can I know who it was in the building at least? Maybe we can strike a deal?"

"Hazen." Katire started.

"Yes Miss.Assassin lady?"

Katire paused for a minute, this person was really getting on her nerves. "I really don't trust you, even on a professional level."

"Well that's rude." Hazen huffed.

"So is ruining my jacket." Katire interjected.

"Just a first name." Hazen insisted

"No."

"Initials?" Hazen insisted, again.

"No."

"One, just one, guess." Hazen, once again, insisted.

Katire glanced at Hazen's gun. "Fine, one guess."

"It's Dave, isn't it?"

Katire wondered for a moment, how obvious it was after knowing who Dave was, and who she was. And after that moment, she concluded that it was. Dave was the Organization's experiment, in a way. And an escaped experiment, to top it off. Of course it was obvious. Katire sighed, but didn't say anything.

Hazen coughed before continuing, the smoke was still pretty bad. "So it IS Dave. You were sent here to make sure that snakeskin rat doesn't run his mouth, right?"

Katire remained silent, hoping that mayne she'd zone out enough to not listen to Hazen's rambling.

"Well, if it changes anything, the kid is too traumatized to say a damn thing. I'm not kidding, whatever your leader did to him was terrible! Have you seen the scar on his face!?" Hazen rambled on, raising their voice the longer they talked. "I've done bad things to good people, but he was twelve, Katire. Twelve! I don't get how you can deal with that."

Katire put out her last cigarette, finally responding to Hazen's babbling.  "What? You talk like he's your own kid Hazen. Did Dave play the pity card when he walked into your office? Battered and bruised and begging for your help?"

Hazen practically screamed. "Yes! What kid goes to a mafia for help!?"

"Oh I'm sorry." Katire mocked. "I forgot that your kind can't take a few traumatized people for the sake of a good paycheck."

"Our kind!? What are we to you?" Hazen shot back.

"You're the one calling Me a snakeskin, Hazen." Katire stated. "I even endured it, but it seems you can't suck it up when the favor is returned."

The elevator door finally opened, the two at each others throats when the sound of the tool box dropping caught their attention. The man who'd dropped it was Dave, rushing to quickly put back the few scraps that had fallen out like his life depended on it.

"How convenient." Katire said, lifting him up by his arm. "You don't mind, do you?"

Dave just shook his head, fiddling with his hands as he swallowed.

Hazen, however, did mind. "Katire if you kill him it'll be war between me and Travis, you know that."

"I do." She responded, a smirk on her face as she started to drag Dave towards the stairs. "And I simply don't care. He's in good hands Hazen, I'll send a letter if Travis gets to him."

Hazen paused, letting Katire lock the stairwell door behind her in thier moment of confusion. Although they tried to break the window and unlock it to get through, Hazen's height got the best of them, and they couldn't reach the lock.

Dave wasn't that important anyway, war is an empty threat when it comes to the janitor. He just has a habit of growing on people.