Roman Reigns is an agent in the secret organisation The Authority and one of the world's deadliest assassins. When he crosses paths with a beautiful, mysterious woman during an assignment, he makes a life-changing decision that switches his role fro...
The huge man walked briskly down the bustling street, munching on an apple. In approximately three minutes' time, he would be late for work. He stepped into the office building and headed into the nearest empty elevator. He pressed the '-1' button, taking him to the basement floor. He then pressed the 'Emergency Stop' button twice, making the elevator come to an abrupt halt. He then pressed the '-1' button again. A small black slab slowly slid out in front of him. He placed his hand on the top of the slab, and a blue horizontal line ran underneath his hand, scanning his palm. A few seconds passed, and a faint whirring sound could be heard. Then a woman's voice spoke.
The elevator went several floors lower to a place that did not exist to the outside world. Behind that door stood the Headquarters of the Authority, the covert operations organization Roman had been with number of years now. The people working here were the human embodiment of ghosts; no one saw them, no one heard them. But their actions greatly influenced the political and economic landscapes of many a society.
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Assassin. Contract killer. Professional hit man. Spy. Whatever you chose to call it, Roman Reigns was it. He was hired to dispatch people and retrieve information, and got paid handsomely for it. There were no questions asked and no answers given, and that was the way The Authority preferred it.
As the door slid open, Roman checked the silver Audemars Piguet watch adorning his left wrist. Barely on time. He shrugged, deciding he would take the scolding like a man. He walked through the main offices before turning left into another section of the building. He had barely taken a couple of steps when he heard a deep, familiar voice say behind him; "Ya know, I'm waiting for the day you surprise me by showin' up early to work."
Roman rolled his eyes, twisting around to exchange a man-hug with his colleague. "Funny, Rollins," he griped, not surprised at all that he hadn't heard the man coming. No one saw Seth Rollins coming until it was too late. The man's ability to stay silent was frightening. He practically wrote the textbook on stealth work, and a lengthy stint with the Marine Corps honed his extensive knowledge on tactics, strategy and extraction, which were second to none among the ranks of the Authority. He was called the Architect in these parts, the man whose mission blueprints were all but failproof. Despite being taller and several pounds heavier than the guy, Roman found him slightly intimidating, even to this day. He would never admit it, of course, but Seth probably already knew. He also had a knack for reading people, knowing what they were thinking, but never the other way around. He knew everything about a person before he met said person. Frighteningly deadly traits which made Rollins the perfect killer.
He looked past Seth's broad shoulders and nodded his head towards the man with matted dirty-blond hair. "Ambrose."
Dean Ambrose returned the nod and fist-bumped Roman. Now Dean was an interesting character. For a less politically correct word, the guy was a borderline psychopath. Cold and callous and calculating, no one was better at psychological warfare than Ambrose. While Rollins was the pro at extracting information, Ambrose was the guy they came to when extreme measures needed to be taken; the one who mind-fucked and tortured you until you were singing like a canary while begging him to kill you. And as if he needed any more talents, he was arguably the best tripwire technician walking the planet, his personality as explosive and impulsive as the equipment he loved so dearly. According to him there was "something relaxing about watching shit blow up".
