Green Valor

Poison

Yuri and Quinn pulled up to Cordero's headquarters for the evening's social event. Both men were on edge, their nerves masked by the carefully rehearsed calm they had adopted.
They had forged fake identities and dressed in matching waiter suits, a vial of poison cleverly disguised as a bottle of vodka tucked into Quinn's jacket pocket.
As they approached the grand, crowded building, the atmosphere was electric with the sound of laughter, clinking glasses, and music pouring from within.
The two men adjusted their appearances one last time, ensuring they blended in seamlessly with the other staff. Quinn took a deep breath, glancing at Yuri, who nodded in return.
Slipping past the initial security checkpoint was easier than they had expected. They moved quickly, keeping their heads down and their expressions neutral.
But just as they thought they were in the clear, a security guard caught up to them, his eyes narrowing as he focused on Yuri.
"Hey, you," the guard called out, his voice rough and authoritative. "Remove that ski mask. We don't allow that kind of thing in here. You know the rules."
Yuri froze, his heart pounding in his chest. He had never shown his face in public before, always hiding behind the mask that had become his shield. The thought of revealing his scars—the result of a brutal attack that left him with a permanent, twisted smile—was enough to make him break out in a cold sweat.
The guard's stare bore into him, and Yuri knew there was no way out. If he refused, it would blow their cover, and they couldn't afford that.
With trembling hands, Yuri reached up and slowly removed his mask. The scar stretched across his face, turning his mouth into a perpetual, grotesque grin that had once earned him cruel mockery and fear. His overall appearance was far from attractive, something that had haunted him for years.
The guard looked at him, his expression unreadable for a moment before he gave a curt nod. "Alright, move along," he said, turning away.
Yuri let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Quinn, seeing Yuri's face for the first time, was momentarily taken aback.
But he quickly recovered, flashing a supportive grin. "Nice look, man," Quinn said, his voice light with teasing. "Gives you character. Might even win a beauty contest in some circles."
Yuri chuckled nervously, the tension easing slightly. "Shut up," he muttered, but there was gratitude in his tone. The moment of kindness from Quinn meant more to him than he let on.
The two continued deeper into the lavish gathering, careful to avoid attracting any further attention. They scanned the room for Yoshi and Cordero, but neither man was in sight. Instead, their eyes were drawn to a raised platform at the center of the room, where a group of pole dancers performed to a mesmerizing tune.
Among them were Sofia and Yuki, the wives of Cordero and Yoshi, respectively. Their movements were fluid and hypnotic, their beauty captivating the audience.
Quinn nudged Yuri, tearing his gaze away from the dancers. "We need to stick to the plan. The kitchen's this way," he whispered.
Yuri nodded, pulling himself back to focus. The dancers, however enticing, were just another obstacle in their path. They had a mission to complete, and there was no room for distractions.
The two men navigated through the crowd, the noise and opulence around them almost overwhelming.
They finally made their way to the kitchen, where they were to serve the poisoned vodka. The plan was simple: get the poison to Yoshi and ensure he drinks it. But with so many eyes on them and the unpredictability of the night, they knew it wouldn't be as easy as it sounded.
Quinn carefully balanced the tray with two drinks, each one laced with the deadly poison that would soon end Yoshi's life. As he moved through the opulent gathering, his eyes caught on a woman and her husband, standing nearby with their young son.
They were laughing, the boy tugging at his mother's dress, and the sight struck Quinn deeply. A wave of depression washed over him as memories of his own family surfaced—memories of the son he had lost, the life that had slipped through his fingers because of this endless war. For a moment, the weight of his mission felt unbearable.
The woman approached Quinn, her warm smile inviting as she asked if the drinks were ready. Quinn hesitated, his hand tightening around the tray as he looked at the family. The sight of their happiness, their normalcy, made his heart ache with a longing he had buried deep within.
How long had it been since he had seen his own son smile like that? Since he had felt the warmth of his family's love? The war had taken everything from him, and now, here he was, about to take away the happiness of others.
Noticing Quinn's somber expression, Yuri tapped him on the shoulder, snapping him out of his thoughts. Quinn blinked, shaking off the haze of sadness, and declined the woman's request for the drinks.
She gave him a puzzled look but shrugged it off, returning to her family. Quinn watched them for a moment longer, a pang of regret gnawing at him, before he forced himself to move on.
He spotted Yoshi standing across the room, looking radiant and utterly unconcerned by the war raging outside. Yoshi, with his expensive suit and smug smile, embodied the arrogance of those who thrived on the suffering of others. Quinn felt a surge of anger as he watched the man flaunt his wealth and power while so many suffered. It solidified his resolve—Yoshi needed to be stopped.
Quinn followed Yoshi, leaving Yuri behind, and approached him with the tray of drinks. Yoshi turned, noticing Quinn, and smiled. "Ah, finally, some service," he said with a hint of mockery in his voice.
Quinn forced a smile, playing the role of the attentive waiter. "Would you like a drink, sir?" he asked, holding the tray out.
Yoshi didn't hesitate to take one of the glasses, eyeing Quinn with mild curiosity. "You seem different," Yoshi said as he took the drink. "Tell me, what's your story?"
Quinn kept his tone neutral, pretending to be interested in Yoshi's self-absorbed ramblings. "Nothing much to tell, sir. Just a man doing his job."
Yoshi smirked, clearly enjoying the opportunity to talk about himself. "You wouldn't believe the kind of properties I own," he began.
"I've got a penthouse in the city that overlooks the skyline. It's the kind of place that makes a statement, you know? Marble floors, a rooftop pool-it's all about the lifestyle!"
Quinn nodded, his expression calm but his mind focused on the task at hand.
"Sounds incredible, Yoshi. But tell me, what do you find most rewarding about all that success?" He subtly steered the conversation, suggesting they find a quieter place to continue their discussion.
Yoshi's eyes gleamed with excitement."Oh, you want to hear more? Absolutely!Let's find somewhere we can really talk."
Yoshi, ever eager to boast, agreed, and the two of them moved to a secluded room. Once inside, Yoshi settled into a chair, his glass still in hand. Quinn sat opposite him, placing the tray with the second drink on the table between them. As they spoke, Quinn noticed Yoshi's demeanor slowly shifting from relaxed to suspicious.
Yoshi's eyes narrowed as Quinn continued to press him with questions, subtly probing for information. Finally, Yoshi leaned forward, his voice low and icy. "Why are you so interested in me, waiter?"
Quinn kept his expression calm, but inside, his heart was racing. "Just making conversation, sir. A man of your stature has plenty of stories to tell."
"You've accomplished a lot, and it's not every day I meet someone with such... influence. But I can see that you might have some reservations
Yoshi narrowed his eyes, the confidence of his earlier monologue beginning to waver.
"Reservations? About what?"
Quinn smiled, a hint of mischief in his gaze. "About how much you're willing to share, or perhaps about who you're sharing it with."
Yoshi's posture tensed, and he set his glass down slowly. "You're asking a lot of questions, my friend. Let's not forget who's in control here."
"Control can be a tricky thing," Quinn replied, his voice steady. "Sometimes, it's about knowing when to trust and when to protect yourself."
Yoshi stared at him for a long moment before a sly grin spread across his face. "You know," he said slowly, "I've learned to be very careful about who I trust. You never know when someone might try to pull a fast one...Quinn."
With that, Yoshi reached out and switched the two drinks, handing the second glass to Quinn. "Cheers," Yoshi said, raising his glass.
Quinn smiled and lifted his glass, meeting Yoshi's eyes as they both drank. As the liquid burned down his throat, Quinn felt a wave of nausea, but he kept his composure.
Yoshi, however, quickly realized something was wrong. His face contorted in shock as he dropped the glass, grabbing Quinn's collar with a trembling hand.
"You... you poisoned both drinks?!..." Yoshi gasped, disbelief and fury in his eyes.
Quinn, already feeling the effects of the poison, gave a hoarse growl. "That's right Yoshi.If one of us goes, we both go...I'll fight you in hell myself"
Yoshi tried to say something more, but his words were cut off as the poison took hold. His grip on Quinn's collar weakened, and both men collapsed to the floor, their bodies lifeless.
In the crowded ballroom, Yuri continued his work, completely unaware of the tragedy that had just unfolded.
He believed Quinn was still out there, alive and ready to complete the mission. But Quinn had made the ultimate sacrifice, ensuring that Yoshi wouldn't live to see another day.
Yuri moved cautiously through the dimly lit halls of Cordero's headquarters, his heart pounding in his chest. The social event raged on behind him, with music and laughter echoing through the corridors, but here, the atmosphere was tense and foreboding.
He kept his head low, blending in as much as possible, but as he turned a corner, he froze at the sight of Cordero himself, flanked by a group of guards.
Quickly, Yuri ducked behind a wall, his breath catching in his throat as he strained to hear the conversation. He knew eavesdropping was dangerous, but the information Cordero possessed could be crucial to their mission.
"...And so, Alec and Dr. Wormsly are dead," Cordero's voice was cold and detached, as if the deaths were nothing more than minor inconveniences. Yuri's heart sank at the mention of Alec, his comrade, and Dr. Wormsly, the scientist who had caused so much pain.
The weight of the news hit him hard, and he involuntarily gasped, unable to contain his shock.
The sound was subtle, but in the quiet hallway, it was enough to draw Cordero's attention. The ruthless leader stopped in his tracks, his eyes narrowing as he turned toward the source of the noise.
Before Yuri could react, Cordero was standing before him, his cold gaze boring into Yuri's soul.
"What are you doing here, so far away from the party?" Cordero's voice was low, almost a growl. Yuri struggled to find words, his mind racing for an excuse, but his fear left him paralyzed.
Before he could speak, Cordero's expression twisted with disdain. "You disgust me," he sneered, pushing Yuri roughly against the wall. "Get out of my sight, you ugly fool."
Yuri stumbled back, his face burning with humiliation. He opened his mouth to respond, but Cordero had already turned his back on him, continuing down the hallway with his guards.
Yuri was left standing there, shaken and seething with anger, but he knew better than to retaliate. He had a mission to complete, and for now, he needed to stay under the radar.
The scene shifted to Saskia, who was walking back from the train station, clutching a small box that contained the cure she had risked everything to retrieve.
The city was in chaos, with protests erupting in the streets and tanks rolling through the crowds. The air was thick with tension and smog, making it hard to breathe, but Saskia pushed forward, her thoughts consumed by the mission and the fate of her friends.
She wondered where Jack and the others were, hoping that they had made it to Cordero's White House event. As she approached the city, she could see the glow of the lights from the smog-ridden skyline, marking the location of the opulent event.
Determined to reunite with her team, she pushed through the throngs of people, her eyes scanning for any sign of Jack.
As she neared the entrance to the event, a guard stepped in front of her, blocking her path. "You cannot enter without admission," he said firmly, his eyes scanning her up and down.
Saskia's heart sank, but she quickly composed herself. "Is Jack Evergreen inside?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.
The guard shook his head, his expression unmoved. "No, he's not. Now, you need to leave," he said, reaching out to escort her away.
Just as Saskia was about to protest, a voice called out from behind the guards. "Oh, she's just in time for the ballroom dance."
Saskia turned to see Sofia, Corderos wife, stepping out from the shadows with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. There was something unsettling about the way Sofia looked at her, but Saskia had no choice. Sofia extended her hand, her fake smile never faltering. "Come in, dear. You wouldn't want to miss the festivities."
With no other option, Saskia took Sofia's hand, allowing herself to be led into the heart of the enemy's den. The lights from the ballroom spilled into the hallway, and Saskia knew that whatever awaited her inside, she had to be ready.