By now, the once-beautiful coat of snow that suffocated the city had frozen over or been tainted enough by nightwalkers that it resembled a grungy wintry slush rather than the winter wonderland it looked like. It was also colder and windier than before.
She'd missed the glitz and glam of the Valor nightlife only hours ago; these early morning hours were reserved for the late-night partiers, the deviants, and the late-night shift workers just looking to catch a 'lunch' in the middle of their shift.
She stood near a light pole near the massive Christmas tree fixed in the plaza's center. In a few days, the city would have its annual tree-lighting ceremony, which would signal the official start of Christmas.
Ziccarra didn't think much of Christmas. 'It's a scam,' she would say to anyone questioning why she didn't celebrate it. In her mind, it was a corporate holiday, a festival beginning with 'Black' Friday that lasted until New Year's. She believed people got so caught up in the 'joy' of Christmas that they were blind to the facts that none of the myths about it never made any sense.
"Not a fan?" A man sitting on a nearby bench called out, patting the bench and inviting her to sit. She recognized his airy voice anywhere. She cautiously pushed her Doc Martens across the slush, giving the impression that she didn't want to fall, but in reality, she questioned whether or not it was him.
She stood a seat with a bit of space between them, but he closed the distance and instructed her to cant towards him to make their conversation seem sincere.
"Ziccarra, what's rule 40?" He asked. He knew; he just wanted to see if she remembered.
"Body language is paramount." She replied, trying (and failing) to avoid appearing annoyed. He gave her a nod before casually glancing at their surroundings to ensure they could speak without hindrance. Her 'Dad' had a way of delaying business with his 'children' for idol talk; part of her believed that he enjoyed catching up with them; he rarely surfaced.
"They are on our..." She started but was cut off by him.
"Your mother misses you. She wishes you'd come back home. I told her that was unlikely, but still give her a call now and then," He said, tapping his foot in the slush."150 'Children' are you are her favorite one." He continued. This time, his constant tapping stopped.
"Here. She told me to give you this." He pulled out a credit card from his coat. Ziccarra took the card but immediately became skeptical. "'Dad' what's going on?"
"An injunction has been filed against us. The other four families have voted us out. With that, we've all been marked for termination, " he explained, patting Ziccarra on her knee.
"Why didn't you inform me sooner? I could've..." She started again but once again was cut off.
"Done what broken your oath not to kill? Don't worry about it. Your 'brothers and sisters will deal with it. Your 'mother' is safe. Take that money, get out of town, and rebuild." He patted her on the knee again, trying to ease her shock.
She truthfully didn't know what to say; their relationship over the years, especially her training years, soured her emotional connection to the 'Family,' but knowing that they were all essentially marked for death filled her grief.
"W-Wait. What about Maxwell King and the Hard drive." She asked, questioning everything that'd occurred in the last 24-48 hours.
"If I was a betting man. And you know I'm not. I'd say Maxwell King gave you that job for two reasons. One to confirm that you were who he thought you were. Two, to lure me out of hiding with the hard drive he knew you'd decode."
"Wait, then why did we agree to meet in the open?"
"Simple. I needed to buy you some more time."
The patting of his foot returned, this time quicker than the last. 'Body Language is Paramount, ' She thought. As she turned to the building across from them, a shot rang out, followed by another shot. The first dropped her 'Dad'. She presumed the second shot dropped the first shooter.
"Go. The contract...was only for me...the contract on you...begins at 5..." He struggled to speak through the blood pouring from his mouth.
"Dad...I'm...going to avenge...you..." She said, laying his body down in the slush. "God...have mercy...on their souls..."
Back at the Apartment.
Ziccarra exploded through the front door, making a beeline for her room and waking Ariel. Z slid her bed across the floor and revealed a floor compartment with a lock. She removed the key from her chest and opened the lock, revealing another body suit, weapons, and gadgets.
"Z-zicarra wha- ZICCARRA!"Ariel screamed from her groggy state. "What happened? Wait, I thought you swore a blood oath." There were too many questions and too many emotions in one room. Z turned around and pushed Ariel out of the room.
"The Lord is a jealous and avenging God. He takes vengeance and is filled with wrath. The Lord takes vengeance on his foes and vents his wrath against his enemies. " She murmured in repetition as she adorned herself in her specialized body suit.
Ariel burst through the door, breaking the lock in the process. "Y-you have to tell me what's going on." Ziccarra took a deep breath, composed herself, and finally began to explain.
"It's complicated to explain, " she said, looking at her watch. '45 minutes'; that's how long she had until the contract on her head became active.
"Well, try," Ariel demanded.
Ziccarra fixed a wire to the base of the front door, rolling her eyes at her ignorant friend.
"I come from a group of assassins called the Liafador Family. One family out of five that forms an organization called "The Family Tree." They recruit out of orphanages and send trainees to this rigorous training facility called the Pit. That's another story, anyway. Once you complete the pit, you're assigned a family. Liafador, Santiago, Jackson, Purrazzo, and Femi." Ziccarra pulled up her forearm to show the Liafador family branding mark.
"Long story short, the Liafador Family got too powerful. My 'siblings' were directly rewarded contracts from the sources, circumventing family politics." While Ziccarra explained, she continued moving around the apartment, rigging explosives and other potentially fatal contraptions.
"Longer story short. I got a contract a couple of years back. I went in to assassinate what I thought was an assassin, planning to kill a prime minister. It was a set-up, and I massacred a bunch of assassins that I believe were in other families."
"Longest story short, The other families have filed an Injunction against us. When that passes, every member of my family must be terminated. My 'dad' was just killed, and in about twenty minutes, a cache of assassins will descend upon this building to kill me--and probably you, too. So please stop asking me questions; put this on and get in that closet.
Around the room, Ziccarra rigged a series of explosives and improvised spikes on walls. She'd also rigged a stereo system in the room to operate with a remote control. She cut out the lights and slid her goggles on her face.
"The Lord is a jealous and avenging God. He takes vengeance and is filled with wrath. The Lord takes vengeance on his foes and vents his wrath against his enemies...."
Final Part Coming Soon-ish
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