Change of Plans

Things were different without the ICA. Working together as independent assassins meant a higher workload for both of them.

Diana was patient enough to help him get used to doing research her way. He'd been meticulous with it, back when he was forced to work without her, but her methods were more refined, and they were what had kept him safe for twenty years, so he didn't mind doing it her way.

Not that he'd ever minded listening to her, or following her directions. She knew what she was doing; he trusted her, and, most importantly: if her methods were keeping him safe, they would also keep her safe.

Working independently also meant that they would often be in the field together, which was thrilling but also terrifying. What if anything happened to her? He would never recover from losing her.

After countless nights in front of their screens, and many days of him scoping out the area to learn the lay of the land and the target's daily habits, their mission seemed easy enough.

Their target was located in the small office area above a large mall, where a handful of small and medium-sized businesses were based. In that environment, the likelihood of anyone noticing an unknown face was low. Even better, intel showed that he would usually work late, even after everyone else had left the office.

There was security, but the guards only started doing their rounds after the target had left the building, and resorted to simply watching the monitors until then.

Diana suggested using all of that to their advantage; all they needed to do was wait until he was alone, manipulate the surveillance system to show looped footage of him sitting at his desk, and they could gain access when no witnesses were around. 47 would kill the target, preferably in a non-bloody manner, Diana would access his computer to upload some sensitive files to their own server, before wiping them from the hard drive, and they could leave just in time for dinner.

The prospect of having dinner with Diana lifted 47's spirits remarkably. Perhaps they could get takeaway and enjoy their food in the comfort and safety of the cheap hotel they were staying at. It'd be nicer than having to watch their backs in public, even though the chances were slim that anyone had followed them around the globe. His habits had kept him safe for twenty years, and they would keep her safe as well.

Things didn't go as planned. Diana had looped the footage, 47 had acquired the target and stored his rapidly cooling body in the bathroom stall, but while she was busy with his computer, two armed security guards entered the office. Someone must've heard something, or maybe they were sloppy when disabling the alarm system, or the guards had the habit of making their rounds early once or twice a year.

47 barely managed to dodge the taser one of the guards aimed at him, and to his horror, he had to watch as the other guard drew his handgun and pointed it at Diana.

She was quick, luckily, and threw one of the old office chairs at the guy, causing him to stumble back against the other guard.

They should've dealt with them, get rid of witnesses to protect themselves, but chances were high that reinforcements were already on the way, so they decided to flee instead.

Their steps echoed too loudly in the stairwell, but the steps coming up from downstairs were even louder. Shit. Now they wouldn't be able to leave through the garage, and had to leave their car behind.

47 took Diana by the arm to lead her back towards the main area, and he was horrified to feel the warm, wet spot on her sleeve and hear her pained gasp.

"It's nothing," she whispered as he silently closed the door behind them. "I cut myself on that stupid chair. Let's hope I didn't leave DNA behind, that would be a hassle to wipe from the database."