An Urgent Job

Nick has been considering what he still needs to accomplish before the Phoenix opening night. He knows, as the secret owner, he's expected to make an appearance, if for no other reason than to validate Kate and Tara's efforts. He's making his fourth list of potential outfits to wear and considering balling it up and throwing it onto the floor with the other three when he hears a knock at the door. Not expecting anybody, he tenses, the monster bristling at the sound. Moving up to the door as silently as he can, he looks through the peephole to see two men in dark suits standing on either side of a slightly overweight older man in a track suit, his blonde hair starting to grey with age, thinning and with a slight bald spot beginning to develop. The man has a large Naval Academy class ring on one finger, a slightly self-satisfied smile on his face. Nick's stomach twitches; the last time he saw this face, he was in a hospital learning how to walk again. He considers not opening the door, but he knows they'll just be back later. Reluctantly, he swings the door open and steps back to let them in.

"Raven," he grunts at the man. "Why are you here?"

The man continues smiling, acting for all the world as if they are old friends catching up. "We have need of your services, Master Sergeant, urgently enough that I felt it needed a personal visit to make sure you didn't refuse to hear me out."

"Standing here doesn't mean I'm going to listen to you, Raven."

The man settles down on the couch, looking around the suite and motioning to one of the two bodyguards. "I don't use that name any more, Master Sergeant." The bodyguard produces an envelope holds it out toward Aden, who takes it and immediately tears it into small pieces.

"Don't care, and the answer is no," Aden says, tossing the torn paper into the trash bin. He looks at the two bodyguards, then turns his back on the three of them and walks toward the kitchen. "Feel free to show yourselves out."

"It's fortunate that boarding pass can be reprinted," the man who used to be Raven sighs. "Master Sergeant, while I am normally willing to play these little dominance games with you, I'm afraid I just don't have the time today. If you don't accept this job, Valentina Serafin will most likely be dead within 48 hours."

Aden freezes in place, his back to them. It's probably good they can't see his face, because the expression is almost monstrous. When he speaks, his voice is frosty cold. "Is that a threat?"

"Don't be silly, Master Sergeant," the controller laughs, sounding genuinely amused. "She's too valuable an asset to be thrown away just to make you angry. Besides, we both know you hate me badly enough I don't need to do anything special to annoy you. In fact, I'm fairly certain if you didn't know it would cost you your life, you would gladly have murdered me years ago."

Aden turns around, his face darkened. "You better to the point really fast, or I may kill you right here."

His nemesis shakes his head as if dealing with a naughty child. "Miss Serafin was operating in the Ukraine, managing a sting on a local separatist cell. Her cover was blown, and she was attacked. She's managed to get out of the country and is in the wind somewhere. When we made contact, she was of the opinion someone on our side turned her over. So now she's refused to come in unless we provide her with an escort of her choice."

"Which was me."

"Which was you," the man agrees. "The plane ticket you tore up so spitefully will take you to Los Angeles, where you will make contact and bring her out."

"How will I know where she is?"

"The operative who was controlling the mission will meet you at the airport and brief you on their extract procedures."

Aden frowns. "Something here stinks." He thinks it through, looks at the angles, the way he knows the Company's worst handle business. "You agree with her, and you're sending me in for the extract because, if we get out safely without issue, it's not anyone on the ground."

"And if you should happen to get set up, attacked, or killed, we would know the traitor has to be inside the operation and not at our headquarters."

Aden sounds that out. The monster is calling bullshit. Still, if Val needs help getting out of trouble, he owes to her for Gdansk and Beirut. "Fine, I'll go. I need a safe house address to operate out of."

"Our controller Marko will be able to set you up with that when you get there." The man stands and moseys toward the suite door, pleased with himself. "Do try to return home in one piece, Master Sergeant."

Aden is opening his voice to answer when the door swings open and Tommy comes in, her gym clothes smudged with paint and spackle. She freezes in place, deer in the headlights, fear. He holds up his hand toward her, reassuring her. "They're leaving, baby," he murmurs, keeping his anger out of his voice.

"You must be Ms. Ryder," the man coos, reaching out and taking Tommy's hand between his. Revulsion passes across her face as he squeezes her hand tight. "My name is Mr. Azrael. We've been quite interested in your relationship with our boy here." Like a serpent watching a canary, he gazes at her, his voice turning oily and false. "Hopefully, you'll be more successful with him than with Mr. Vashlikop."

All the color drains from Tommy's face, and the monster gets loose. Taking three steps across the suite, Aden moves fast enough to catch the bodyguards looking the wrong way. Aden punches Left Nut in the kidney hard enough to make the guy piss blood for the next week or two, and as he's going down, Right Nut goes for his gun, which is exactly what he shouldn't have done. This close, Aden has all the time in the world to disable the gunman before the gun is clear of the holster. Right Nut hits the wall spitting out teeth, sinking to the floor to join his partner. Azrael turns toward him, still smiling, amused. The man watches as Aden bends down and picks up Right Nut's weapon, a chromed Colt Python. Aden is smiling, too, stepping the last few feet between them. As he does so, he flips the gun open and dumps the bullets onto the floor, all except for one. Looking straight into Azrael's eyes, he makes a show of placing that last bullet back into the cylinder, spins it all the way around. Whirrrrrr-clack-clack, says the revolver, spinning and stopping as Aden thumbs back the hammer.

Azrael is still grinning benevolently. Aden brings the pistol up, places the barrel in the middle of Azrael's slightly sweaty forehead. "Please, Master Sergeant," he starts, indulgently. "We both know you won't-"

Clickclickclick, says the revolver as Aden pulls the trigger three times fast without any pause. Azrael's face goes paler than Tommy's, and he stumbles back into the door. "Don't tell me what we both know," Aden says, the voice of ****. "I'm willing to bet your life on the fact that I'm harder to replace than you are. Are you?"

Azrael stutters, trying to form a coherent response. Aden pushes him hard in the chest as Left Nut and Right Nut stumble to their feet groaning in pain. "If I ever see you or your thugs at my door again, I will put you all in the hospital. If you ever threaten Tommy again, I'll put you in the morgue." He closes the door behind them as they flee, knowing Azrael will send him the flight info and everything he needs when the man has had a chance to calm down. When he turns back, Tommy is staring at him, her eyes wide, tears on her cheek.

"We need to talk," she whispers, taking his hand and leading him toward the bedroom.