5th March 2002

If I tell you a secret. would you believe it? If I gave you a key that could mean both freedom and love for many, many people, would you throw it away? I suppose you could say I was the villain in this story, but in truth, what I proposed was freedom. Freedom which ran as clearly as the deepest blue-green oceans and as beautiful as molten gold. Unfortunately not everyone agrees with my ideals, apparently law and order are more prosperous for the Big Boys. Corporations feeding off hungry smaller businesses, raking in profit as each and every one was bought out, all under the neat and tidy cover of law. I had worked for them all, a corporation has many uses for a world class assassin. But you see so many companies go down, there is a line you cross over. I pulled links in the underworld and we formed ourselves quite an organisation, myself included, we started to knock out chairmen, heads of state, and other various important people. But slowly we got slack and I ended up here.

1st January 2002

"What's the time?" A man in a long white trench coat appeared at my shoulder. He was big, thug-like with short, white spiked hair and black tips. He was wearing a black polo-neck shirt and black cargo pants under his stark white trench coat. I gave him a disinterested glance, flicked my eyes from him to my watch, then back to the festival.

"One o'clock, really a bit overdramatic Polo," I said, in reference to his clothes. He shrugged. I looked down at my ensemble and decided I fitted in perfectly. Nicely flared jeans and a red tank top. Granted I had a black trench coat over the top, in response to the weather, I fitted in fine. The parade on the main road continued, unhindered, announcing the arrival of heads of state. Balloons flew into the air and music was blasting from every building looking onto the main road. Polo grabbed my arm and squeezed it, I turned and we both inched towards one of them, Polo following close behind me on the crowded sidewalk. The buildings ground floor was empty. The noise of the festival faded out as the sliding glass doors whirred shut. Polo's boots and mine echoed slightly and we headed straight to the elevator. A security guard walked toward us. Keeping my eyes on the numbers on top of the elevator, I pulled out a silenced gun and shot him.

"He's going to make quite a mess," I commented, as the numbers continued to decrease.

"It's a standard response when you get a hot piece of lead passed through your system, making a mess." We both climbed onto the elevator, and, in unison, smiled at the security camera. The doors shit. I reached into the bag resting against my hip and pulled out a cloth, and threw it onto the camera. I pulled the wig off and dumped it. I pulled out make-up removing tissues and wiped the years from my face. Polo took out a little bug, stuck it onto the electronics interface in the elevator and all things electric, except the bug itself, shut down. The elevator shuddered to a halt. Polo peeled the doors open and we both slid the narrow slit. After landing, we took a sharp right and climbed the stairs to the third floor. We headed toward a wide spanning window. Through the window was a fantastic view of the back exit to the conference center. I walked up to it, dumped my bag and stretched. Reaching into my bag I took out another silenced gun and a pair of clear blue sunglasses. A plain red car stood waiting outside the door, its driver keeping the engine running for the busy body senator who would be coming out the door any minute. Security was incredibly sparse, two guards from the windows of neighboring buildings onto the parking triangle. Probably one more in the building we were in. The main force of security would be concentrated on the parade itself. I took careful aim on the first guard as Polo kicked the window and shattered it. My finger squeezed the trigger and the guard was down, another well-placed shot and the second was gone through the throat.

I stepped back a few steps and ran out the window, leaping into the air. My trench coat billowed dramatically and I maintained my steadiness, reaching up with my hand to shoot the guard who had stuck his head out of the fourth floor window. I landed heavily and as I straightened out a very uncomfortable shiver ran up my spine. For a moment, I could not move, but I forced myself to, and walked toward the red car. I opened the drivers door and pulled him out. He swung a punch, which I ducked, but by the time I was up he was shot. Polo winked at me from the office above and then picked up my bag and left. I flipped him a lazy salute before climbing into the drivers seat. At that moment, the senator burst through the door, and, not looking right of left, got into the car. He was chuckling to himself as he fastened his seat belt. Mid-laugh, he turned, looked at me and froze. I winked though blue sunglasses, blew him a kiss and pulled the trigger to his head. Blood hit the window behind him.

"Thanks for dropping by." I said as I undid his seatbelt, leaned over and opened his door and pushed him out. I gunned the engines and bailed.

5th March 200 2

It all seems so easy now. what I should have done. what I did do. There was nothing I wanted more than that senator's death. Nothing. There was too much behind it. I should not have gotten myself involved. What could I do now? Nothing. That stupid word reverberates through my head. Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing. The machine next to me beeps in time with the words. The figure in the bed breaths deeply and my eyes flick to her. Automatically I regret it. Pale red hair framed an even paler face. Eyes that would normally have been sparkling green were now pasted closed for way too long, flickering occasionally from some dream no one could wake her from. It's my fault my sister is here. Two voices faded through the coldness.

"She's been here for days, barely moving, except to get herself coffee."

"Eating?"

"Not while I've been on duty."

"Has anyone one else seen anything? What's her name?" A pause.

"It says here she's Mirry Blue."

"Fake?"

"Probably, it doesn't sound real, does it?" A pause. "She said she was a friend." I stood and walked to the door. The two nurses jumped.

"Shhhh." I put a finger to my lips. Then I went back to my seat. The senator deserved what he got, I'll prove it to you all if I have to.

25th June 1989

I pumped my legs faster, with each glide I went faster and faster. Even then I was still going too slowly. So I bent over and bladed faster still. My street loomed up ahead and I straightened up, angled my blades and turned down the hill. The suburban street was empty, the noise drifting in from a nearby main road, drowned out by the high-pitched whistle of the wind. Going down the hill I gained more ground and speed. I headed up to the intersections, sped through it, saw the flash of red, felt the speeding cars wind hit me and heard the horn. Going too fast I lost control, flew through the air, hit the ground and as things started to blur and spin, I realized it was me who was spinning. Still going too fast, I smashed into a parked car. Everything around me went splotchy and so much pain took over me. A yawning silence stretched away from me, everything else a million miles away. With a strong force I was too numb to feel, I threw the pain out of my head, finding it surprisingly easy. I felt moisture all over, a combination of cold sweat and blood. I lifted my hand to my face, and watched as the blood trickled through my knuckles, a pretty spectacular sight against a brilliant blue background.

"Mirry!" My sister's voice, and, her face, half blanked out by a large splotch, that was an interesting blackish purple colour. It was expanding more and more and suddenly there was nothing.

28th June 1989

I awoke to two voices, one of which was my fathers, demanding something. A nurses soothing tone smothered its harshness.

"We are not sure the full extent of the damage sir. The neurologist has taken a look at her CAT scans. He says there might be considerable damage to the nerve that feels pain. He is fairly sure she will never feel pain. At the very least, she will never be normal again."

"Are you kidding?" Angry now, ridicule and snobbishness played equal parts. "With my job? If she isn't going to be normal, I don't want anything to do with her."

"Wha... What?" The nurse's voice quietly broke a stunned silence. There was a noise of running feet. "Senator! Wait!" The door slammed shut. I was alone.

1st of January

There was nothing left of me in the triangle but a large cloud of dust. The tires crunched the gravel as I did a round arc, stopped next to the senator and pulled the ring off his finger. I paused, taking a moment to secure it to my necklace. The necklace was simply gorgeous. A simple silver chain with a medium sized silver ankh pendant. Set into the pendant itself was assorted sapphires, emeralds and champagne diamonds. I had it evaluated once, for insurance, it had an estimated value of around eight thousand dollars. I was not ungrateful. As I pulled out of the parking triangle I dug into my jeans pocket and pulled out a pair of smooth leather driving gloves, with the fingertips cut off.

Halfway out of the city a little annoying TV/computer screen unfolded itself from the cars interface. It was facing the passenger side, so I leaned over with my pocketknife and rearranged a few wires and joints, and then kept driving. Two words flashed on the screen.

"Incoming message hey?" I tapped the screen. A head filled all four corners. There was something familiar about those eyes.

"Whoever this is, don't think you can escape." Long straight red hair, sparkling light green eyes, this cant be her, It just cant be. It'll mess too much up.

"Cassie?" I interrupted.

"Yes, Cassie Lester, head of security for Senator Lester." No. I refuse to believe it. I pull the car over and tap the visual interaction icon.

"Hey sis, you aint looking too good," I said, after a deep breath.

"Who is this?" She was guarded now. I took off my sunglasses.

"What's this? You don't recognize me? I'm hurt." I traced a tear down my cheek.

"Mirry? No. No way. Mirry died in a car accident when she was twelve."

"Guess again."

"Dad wouldn't lie about that. wait. you killed dad!"

"Remarkable observation skills? What gave it away? The dead body?" A sigh. She turned away from the camera for a second.

"I'd like to talk to you. Sometime, anytime."

"Sorry Cass, I don't think so." I pulled out a gun and aimed and the little camera on the top of the screen. "Bye Cassie."

Bang.