The Triple A-- Attempting Amory Assassination- AIA
Mar 16, 2009 17:03:59 GMT -5
Post by +Unk the Ninja+ on Mar 16, 2009 17:03:59 GMT -5
And barely a week had gone by before Keith thought he was ready. The meeting on the rooftop had left him feeling confused and the week was mostly spent deciding what to do. After he had assured himself that tangling with The Untouchables was the wrong thing to do, and that he really did have to do this. The next day was spent gathering all the things that he would need-- poisons, stilettos, knives, and his clothing. Clothing was actually extremely important, seeing as it could sometimes makes noise. It had to be silent, able to conceal things in, and able to keep the person warm, cool, dry, and safe. Not from bullets, of course. Shoes had to be hand designed and cost thousands of dollars.
The next step was information-- ah, information. It was one thing that nobody could live without, and certainly not a contract killer. Yet, it cost money and time. You had to know exactly who you asked. If you didn't, things could get nasty. So, after two days, Keith had finally found a reliable contact. And for a price of 1,500 dollars, he told him the information he needed.
Keith Miller needed to know where Sirius Amory would be come Sunday night, 8:00 PM.
And so, at 3:00 in the afternoon, he began to get ready for the coming task.
The earlier day, he had eaten plenty of bread and other food items high in carbohydrates, ensuring enough energy for tonight's task. Things could get nasty, sometimes, during attempted assassinations, and energy was one thing he could not run low on. Now, he gulped down a few pills for 8 hours of high mental and physical performance.
Mentally, he told himself that it was okay if he did not succeed, which would most likely be the case. Assassinations rarely happened the first time through, and Amory was the head of a gang. He was not someone who could easily be killed, even by a God. He also prepared himself for an onslaught of ethical challenges, should there be banter. People often told him, in a panic, that he was doing the wrong thing and was a horrible person. He hardly paid attention to it, but every now and then, a person got through to him.
The knives and stilettos (and one switchblade; these were always useful. The blade could be whipped out faster than a snake striking) were another thing that he had to carefully prepare. The knives were easily. Keith sharpened them well enough to cut through a piece of toilet paper dropped over them, and then slipped them in small leather sheathes. These he left on the table. The stilettos were harder. A diamond had to be used to sharpen them, or some sort of rock almost just as hard, for the stilettos were the highest quality and used a very hard metal. The switchblade did not and rarely needed to be sharpened-- it was not often used, despite it's many uses.
Each different one was sharpened to it's corresponding size and weight. Some were sharp enough to slice through skin, bone, and organs, while others were blunter used for gutting, and then there were the ones that were almost completely done and used as a multi tool. Several, usually the sharper ones, were poisoned. This was a difficult process in itself. Keith had to unscrew the pommel of the stiletto, and carefully pour the selected poison in. There was a narrow tube inside the stiletto itself, made of the hardest and highest quality metal possible. Near the end of the blade, it upturned, and opened wide to the side of a blade. There there was a stopper. If you took it out, and stabbed or cut someone, the pressure of the stab or cut would force the poison out of the blade into the bloodstream. All of the poisons were extremely fast acting, and sometimes mixed to cause perhaps, paralysis and death.
Keith then went over the plan, on paper. He read it a thousand times over and a thousand times over again until he could literally say it in his sleep. It was vital that he knew what he was doing or the entire plan tonight could blow up in his face.
When it was 6:00, Keith ate a small dinner. He then dressed in his assassin outfit. It was all made of an extremely knew and versatile material, called Flex. It actually read his body temperatures and how much he sweat, and adjusted so that he was always the right temperature. He could stay warm in a blizzard and cool in the desert, even if he was wearing heavy cloth.
The entire was black. He wore moderately tight fitting black pants, and a button down shirt. This he left untucked, for it would inhibit movement if it was tucked in. The top three buttons were undone. There were no collar buttons. It was all immaculately ironed, and not a speck of dust lay upon it. Keith could have been a model, but detested even the thought.
Shoes were another matter. They had cost him 3,000 dollars a piece, and for good reason. They were incredibly lightweight, fitted his feet perfectly, had no laces, were fireproof, bulletproof, knife proof, and used correctly, made no sound when he touched the ground. Each was a marvel of technological science. It had been proved that if one stepped correctly, NO sound waves were emitted when the shoe touched they ground. The energy was transfered to the foot, lifting the bottom of the foot up for the next step. It was technology that the Capitol perhaps did not know existed, and it was absolutely a miracle of modern science.
Taking a comb and a small container of gel, and went in front of the mirror. Here, Keith spiked his hair up just the way he wanted it. In a way, his head looked like a maroon porcupine that got a spine cut. He then carefully put in maroon contacts, specially manufactured so that they did not irritate his eyes nor inhibit vision. Black eyeliner and mascara were next added. Last, he powdered his face pure white.
Keith turned off the lights, closed the door, pulled down the shades, and pulled out a flashlight. He illuminated his face. The effect was incredible. He actually managed to scare himself-- quite an accomplishment. His face almost glowed out of the darkness, with the maroon contacts shining out bright and scarily, while the eyeliner and mascara drew the looker right to Keith's face.
This, of course, was what it was all about. In the off chance that Keith didn't manage to incapacitate Amory immediately, the effect of the makeup and hair should shock or scare him for a few seconds- much more than long enough needed for Keith to put a knife through him.
And so, at 7:30, Keith Miller, hired contract killer, set out to go to the place that his contact had told him about. But he did not use the stairs not the elevator to get to the street downstairs, of course-- in fact, he did not even use the main street. This would have been one of the most idiotic things that he could do.
The police were always after him, of course, and so he never lived in the same place for more than a week. And he never, ever, came in the same way twice nor came out the same way twice. If they did find him, it would be impossible to know which apartment complex he actually lived at. Keith Miller was a careful man.
And because he was careful, he disabled the fire alarm on the trapdoor to the roof. It would automatically disable if there was a real fire, but Keith had no intention of starting one. After a few moments with his stilettos, he opened the roof hatch and climbed carefully, stealthily into the darkening night sky. He took a good look around before even standing up. There could be police anywhere.
Assured that there weren't any, Keith went three blocks to the left and then four up before coming to a stop. Here he spent a large amount of precious time opening a number of fire escapes, to finally find one that led into a hallway. When he did so, he crept along and listened at the door of each room. Finding one that was empty, he gave it a stiff shoulder and broke in. Here Keith crossed to the balcony, and scampered down the side of the building. Main entrances were for amateurs.
Using a combination of back roads, alleyways, rooftops, and even the sewer twice, Keith made his way across town and very deep into Prestige territory. This was where he needed to be careful. Prestiges' often patrolled the area, looking around for people out of place. And a man with spiked red hair and makeup on was certainly out of place. Here too he used a variety of back roads, alleyways, and rooftops to make his way across town.
His contact had said that Amory was moving out of HQ for the night-- to go to a small conferencing building, mainly alone, to work and plan on upcoming Prestige events. This was where Keith ended up at, at exactly 7:47..
Carefully, shrouded in shadow, he made his way to the front entrance. Not surprisingly, it was locked. It took him three minutes to pick and re-lock the lock, making his time frame very short.
Keith entered the room. It was very dimly lit. In the corner was a filing cabinet, and this Keith moved approximately a foot and a half to one side. Here, in the shadow of the cabinet, Keith stood. He turned the bulb above his head on very low-- just enough to illuminate his face and only his face.
For Keith's plan was not to kill Sirius Amory.
Keith Miller's plan, for the first time in his life, was to not immediately attempt an assassination.
His plan was to talk to Sirius Amory.
For Keith didn't like bullets being shot at him, bomb threats, and gun threats. He liked simple and mature conversations, concise and damn straight to the point. Threats were not his way of doing things, especially if the threats were going towards Keith.
Therefore, Keith was not very happy with Jason Black, head of Military Operations in The Untouchables.
Perhaps, he would like working with Sirius Amory of The Prestige.
And if he didn't?
Well, he'd kill them all.
And he might just do that anyways.
The next step was information-- ah, information. It was one thing that nobody could live without, and certainly not a contract killer. Yet, it cost money and time. You had to know exactly who you asked. If you didn't, things could get nasty. So, after two days, Keith had finally found a reliable contact. And for a price of 1,500 dollars, he told him the information he needed.
Keith Miller needed to know where Sirius Amory would be come Sunday night, 8:00 PM.
And so, at 3:00 in the afternoon, he began to get ready for the coming task.
The earlier day, he had eaten plenty of bread and other food items high in carbohydrates, ensuring enough energy for tonight's task. Things could get nasty, sometimes, during attempted assassinations, and energy was one thing he could not run low on. Now, he gulped down a few pills for 8 hours of high mental and physical performance.
Mentally, he told himself that it was okay if he did not succeed, which would most likely be the case. Assassinations rarely happened the first time through, and Amory was the head of a gang. He was not someone who could easily be killed, even by a God. He also prepared himself for an onslaught of ethical challenges, should there be banter. People often told him, in a panic, that he was doing the wrong thing and was a horrible person. He hardly paid attention to it, but every now and then, a person got through to him.
The knives and stilettos (and one switchblade; these were always useful. The blade could be whipped out faster than a snake striking) were another thing that he had to carefully prepare. The knives were easily. Keith sharpened them well enough to cut through a piece of toilet paper dropped over them, and then slipped them in small leather sheathes. These he left on the table. The stilettos were harder. A diamond had to be used to sharpen them, or some sort of rock almost just as hard, for the stilettos were the highest quality and used a very hard metal. The switchblade did not and rarely needed to be sharpened-- it was not often used, despite it's many uses.
Each different one was sharpened to it's corresponding size and weight. Some were sharp enough to slice through skin, bone, and organs, while others were blunter used for gutting, and then there were the ones that were almost completely done and used as a multi tool. Several, usually the sharper ones, were poisoned. This was a difficult process in itself. Keith had to unscrew the pommel of the stiletto, and carefully pour the selected poison in. There was a narrow tube inside the stiletto itself, made of the hardest and highest quality metal possible. Near the end of the blade, it upturned, and opened wide to the side of a blade. There there was a stopper. If you took it out, and stabbed or cut someone, the pressure of the stab or cut would force the poison out of the blade into the bloodstream. All of the poisons were extremely fast acting, and sometimes mixed to cause perhaps, paralysis and death.
Keith then went over the plan, on paper. He read it a thousand times over and a thousand times over again until he could literally say it in his sleep. It was vital that he knew what he was doing or the entire plan tonight could blow up in his face.
When it was 6:00, Keith ate a small dinner. He then dressed in his assassin outfit. It was all made of an extremely knew and versatile material, called Flex. It actually read his body temperatures and how much he sweat, and adjusted so that he was always the right temperature. He could stay warm in a blizzard and cool in the desert, even if he was wearing heavy cloth.
The entire was black. He wore moderately tight fitting black pants, and a button down shirt. This he left untucked, for it would inhibit movement if it was tucked in. The top three buttons were undone. There were no collar buttons. It was all immaculately ironed, and not a speck of dust lay upon it. Keith could have been a model, but detested even the thought.
Shoes were another matter. They had cost him 3,000 dollars a piece, and for good reason. They were incredibly lightweight, fitted his feet perfectly, had no laces, were fireproof, bulletproof, knife proof, and used correctly, made no sound when he touched the ground. Each was a marvel of technological science. It had been proved that if one stepped correctly, NO sound waves were emitted when the shoe touched they ground. The energy was transfered to the foot, lifting the bottom of the foot up for the next step. It was technology that the Capitol perhaps did not know existed, and it was absolutely a miracle of modern science.
Taking a comb and a small container of gel, and went in front of the mirror. Here, Keith spiked his hair up just the way he wanted it. In a way, his head looked like a maroon porcupine that got a spine cut. He then carefully put in maroon contacts, specially manufactured so that they did not irritate his eyes nor inhibit vision. Black eyeliner and mascara were next added. Last, he powdered his face pure white.
Keith turned off the lights, closed the door, pulled down the shades, and pulled out a flashlight. He illuminated his face. The effect was incredible. He actually managed to scare himself-- quite an accomplishment. His face almost glowed out of the darkness, with the maroon contacts shining out bright and scarily, while the eyeliner and mascara drew the looker right to Keith's face.
This, of course, was what it was all about. In the off chance that Keith didn't manage to incapacitate Amory immediately, the effect of the makeup and hair should shock or scare him for a few seconds- much more than long enough needed for Keith to put a knife through him.
And so, at 7:30, Keith Miller, hired contract killer, set out to go to the place that his contact had told him about. But he did not use the stairs not the elevator to get to the street downstairs, of course-- in fact, he did not even use the main street. This would have been one of the most idiotic things that he could do.
The police were always after him, of course, and so he never lived in the same place for more than a week. And he never, ever, came in the same way twice nor came out the same way twice. If they did find him, it would be impossible to know which apartment complex he actually lived at. Keith Miller was a careful man.
And because he was careful, he disabled the fire alarm on the trapdoor to the roof. It would automatically disable if there was a real fire, but Keith had no intention of starting one. After a few moments with his stilettos, he opened the roof hatch and climbed carefully, stealthily into the darkening night sky. He took a good look around before even standing up. There could be police anywhere.
Assured that there weren't any, Keith went three blocks to the left and then four up before coming to a stop. Here he spent a large amount of precious time opening a number of fire escapes, to finally find one that led into a hallway. When he did so, he crept along and listened at the door of each room. Finding one that was empty, he gave it a stiff shoulder and broke in. Here Keith crossed to the balcony, and scampered down the side of the building. Main entrances were for amateurs.
Using a combination of back roads, alleyways, rooftops, and even the sewer twice, Keith made his way across town and very deep into Prestige territory. This was where he needed to be careful. Prestiges' often patrolled the area, looking around for people out of place. And a man with spiked red hair and makeup on was certainly out of place. Here too he used a variety of back roads, alleyways, and rooftops to make his way across town.
His contact had said that Amory was moving out of HQ for the night-- to go to a small conferencing building, mainly alone, to work and plan on upcoming Prestige events. This was where Keith ended up at, at exactly 7:47..
Carefully, shrouded in shadow, he made his way to the front entrance. Not surprisingly, it was locked. It took him three minutes to pick and re-lock the lock, making his time frame very short.
Keith entered the room. It was very dimly lit. In the corner was a filing cabinet, and this Keith moved approximately a foot and a half to one side. Here, in the shadow of the cabinet, Keith stood. He turned the bulb above his head on very low-- just enough to illuminate his face and only his face.
For Keith's plan was not to kill Sirius Amory.
Keith Miller's plan, for the first time in his life, was to not immediately attempt an assassination.
His plan was to talk to Sirius Amory.
For Keith didn't like bullets being shot at him, bomb threats, and gun threats. He liked simple and mature conversations, concise and damn straight to the point. Threats were not his way of doing things, especially if the threats were going towards Keith.
Therefore, Keith was not very happy with Jason Black, head of Military Operations in The Untouchables.
Perhaps, he would like working with Sirius Amory of The Prestige.
And if he didn't?
Well, he'd kill them all.
And he might just do that anyways.
