Mission for Major Contactly Death (Open to Kabal)

Mike was in the one of his four central park facing top-floor penthouses, surveying the beautiful scene that lay below him through a double-layer of 3" bulletproof glass that served as his wall. The seemingly random splash of green before him was well out of place in the concrete jungle that was New York City, and he thought that if you're not going to try to make the city naturally beautiful with everything you do, you shouldn't put a reminder of what beauty really was smack-dab in the middle of the city, where hundreds of people visit it every day, and thousands see it everyday, all over the world.

Well, Mike thought, Humans are funny like that. That's the thing about them, they are totally irrational, unpredictable even. Makes dealing in this place so damn hard. Mike walked away from the window and sat down on a chair specially ordered to fit his diminutive stature and tail. He sipped tea from a cup, and watched the clock tick by, letting his thoughts drift and slowly form into a plan of action for the day. He did that every night, just before sundown, like he was now. His true day was night, as most of his more... profitable activities took place then.

Slowly, as if it was a thundercloud forming in a clear blue sky, a thought began to form. It was a thought that had slipped Mike's mind recently, but that was one that was important to accomplish ASAP. His most reliable contact, a very veluptuous lady named Heather Doctarain, had lately been giving him false information. He had dismissed it the first time, but this last time had been a crucial misinformation about the state of Kabal security, resulting in the compramising of a vital surveillance operation. While this had lead to Mike's induction into the Kabal, the slip could not be ignored. It seemed one of his old enemies had found a hold on Heather, and that couldn't be taken lightly. In his 879 years of living, Mike had made quite a few enemies all over the world. He would have to find out who it was this time, and then deal with it.

However, Crow had mentioned that Mike might want a partner for any missions he does, personal or otherwise. He hadn't given it much thought at the time, but now that he considered it he realized that he had no clue what sort of nasty surprises Heather might have up her sleeve. She had survived dealing with him for five years, and that was no mean feat. Mike thougth it over for several more moments, and then nodded and pulled out a cellphone. He hit a speeddial button, and the phone at the front desk began ringing.

"Hello. Noin Mortman, front desk. How may I help you, Mr. Montierre?"

It surprised Mike very little that Noin knew who was calling. She had the lowdown on every little gadget the boys in R&D threw out. "Hey Noin. Listen, I have a personal problem that I need to eliminate. You think you could arrange something?'

"I'll work on it and call you." The phone hung up with a click, and Mike put it down to wait. He would wait for an hour, and then proceed, partner or not.