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Hades waited and planned. While he awaited his contacts return he was preparing. Even now, at no small cost, Hades had smuggled a transmitter over to the other side. In the Alternate Version (AV) of the world, Winston was deploying data miners, gathering information. How was AV Doheny different? What kind of resources did he have? Who stood best to gain from his demise? What was the lay of the land in the AV world?

He had Winston do something complicated with it to mask the signal, something to do with making the phone number virtual so it could not be triangulated through cell towers and signal bouncing. Bottom line, unless AV Martin Doheny had a few spare super computers or equivalent at his disposal, he would not be finding Hades anytime soon. The dogs would be replaced, new puppies delivered for training to begin. Hades toyed with the idea of waiting till the dogs had become fully trained war hounds and setting them on Martin but that would take too long, besides he had a contract to fulfill.

He had just finished burying the bodies of his hounds when his phone buzzed.

>"Wrong Doheny, but you still did the work. I respect that. Half-price for the Doheny you took care of. Same price for you have yet to dispose of. Deal?"

Winston came back with his report. Hades browsed it over a glass of whisky. So the AV Doheny, had considerably more muscle. Winston had discovered hints of bribes or monetary transfers to politicians. Martin's servers also boasted some serious protection. It would require a physical hack to breach, but Hades would take care of that. Martin's largest competitor was Undertow Industries, headed up by one Jorge Cervantes.

The next day one unremarkable man passed through the borders from the World the the AV world. He was unremarkable in every way, seen then immediately forgotten. That unremarkable man picked up a duffel bag from a bus station locker and vanished in the crowd.

After three more days of recon, Hades was ready. He sent a text to the client. "Accepted, watch his stocks and the news."

It seemed as if Martin Doheny's luck changed for the worse overnight. His construction projects seemed to be plagued by accident after accident. Crane cables that snapped just as the load was 8 stories off the ground, water and gas pipes ruptured at inconvenient times. A number of night watchmen swore they had seen a specter in dark flowing robes carrying a scythe that was at least 8 feet tall. They pointed to the chains that had been sliced cleanly in two with a single stroke. Martin's stocks plummeted as most all of his construction projects in New York ground to a halt as safety review after safety review was called.

It was amazing what a little money and common hatred of an anti-mutant mogul can do. The next to go was Martin's personal reputation. Allegations of bribes, of back room deals began to surface. Some true, some sounded so plausible as to be true, the result was the same. Life was not going well for Martin Doheny. He got to enjoy a front row seat as the mighty empire he had built suffered death by a thousand cuts.

Then exactly two weeks after Hades entered the AV world, one Martin Doheny was found deceased in his residence, along with every member of his security force. They had either met their end by a throwing knife, a broken neck or being hit by an 8 foot scythe. A symbol was left above the former mortal shell of one Martin Doheny. It was the same symbol that adorned every throwing knife. Eyewitnesses told of a dark robed figure with glowing green eyes wielding an 8 foot scythe passing by the windows. Hades work was done.

As Hades left the AV world he sent one last text.

"Contract complete. Please see attached instructions for deposit of funds. If you ever cross over, Hotel Continental, check in under the name Bengaal."

As an after thought, he added one more little bit of information. Winston and some hired help had come across it when they broke into Martin's server. A name just a name, but who knew where it might lead. The client had been generous, so Hades would return the favor. That was how relationships worked.

"See link for access to Doheny's personal server. Found a name linked to leak....Spyder. Over and out."

Hades sat alone in his personal room. It was quiet and dark, eerily so. Word had spread fast, those staffing the underground base knew that Hades was not to be disturbed. Much had happened that week.

It all started when he got textual confirmation that proof of contract completion had been confirmed and that the money had been transferred. No money arrived. That in and of itself was odd. Bengall, like all other existing clients, knew the risks of recommending a bad client and the consequences. One did not cross an assassin. History was littered with examples of the horrors inflicted on those who did not pay assassins.

An assassin who has not been paid will not just kill you. He will go to work on all that you own, all that you cherish, he is patient, he is calculating and cold. He will pick apart your life, unravel it one thread at a time. Often he can sell the piece by piece destruction of the offender for a higher price than the original contract. History is clear, unless you bury the assassin, you never cheat him of his payment.

Then Hades got an odd text.

>"Was the Doheny contract truly fulfilled? Was payment received?"

Hades reply was short and succinct. Firs was a series of images, of one Martin Doheny on a mortuary table, the distinctive "Y" shaped stitching shown. The second image was a close up of the toe tag, identifying the body as belonging to one Martin Doheny. The third image was of the ME's report, including the weight of various internal organs, the X-rays showing the extent of the damage, the T.O.D etc. After the images three words of text.

"Payment not received."

A news flash caught Hades eye. IT was garbled, there was much confusion. A single glance to one of the cameras that served as Winston's "eyes" and a glance back to the confused garbled message on screen was enough to send Winston charging valiantly into the sea of information. Due to the wide range or sources and sometimes contradictory nature of information they provided the task took longer than usual, but as usual Winston delivered. Winston delivered his findings in the voice of Jarvis from the Iron Man movies. He could, and frequently did, change his "voice" at will. Sometimes he did it to annoy Hades other times, well no one knew.

"It appears Sir that there has been a rip in time and space."

There was a pause as Winston allowed Hades to digest the information. It was easy to forget that not everyone had hundreds of thousands of CPU's and GPU's with which to process the world. Hades nodded for Winston to continue.

"A stable portal seems to have appeared on the streets of New York that apparently grants access to an alternate version of our current universe. The starting point of both universes are the same but somewhere in history certain events had differing outcomes."

At this point Hades interrupted Winston. "Which makes it entirely possible that the client could have been referring to the other Martin Doheny, hence the query regarding contract completion."

"Exactly sir."

Hades would have to mull over that. He did some more searching, apparently the governments of both sides were still negotiating regarding the crossovers of finance but the current consensus was that currency was currency and maintained a 1:1 exchange rate. If all of this turned out to be more than conjecture, then perhaps it would be better to insist being paid in gold, or at least ensure that wire transfers would be honored between universes. "See if you can connect with the internet on the other side. start building a data base on the surviving Martin as well as his biggest competitors. Check the prices of hits if you can. If the pricing is similar to this universe, then the amount for the hit either indicates a strong personal hatred of the target or a significant business rival."

In a different universe something vastly more sinister was occurring. In a corner, a syndicate member was tracking outgoing transmissions. She had left the recorder in place and had only just managed to slip away long enough to download and review the recordings. The tap monitored all outgoing cell transmissions in the area. Much of it was the usual, every day people going about their every day boring business. A few were between Syndicate members, offering her juicy bits of information which she stored away. She was always looking for ways to get noticed and promoted. One particular entry caught her eye. It was unfamiliar. On a whim she tried dialing the number from a distant pay phone, her confusion increased when the phone informed her that that number was not valid. It did not exist. Never the less, this information was worth something. She sent a message detailing the contents of the information and her findings to "base" and signed the message "Spyder".

In his rich, lavish and well defended home, Martin Doheny eagerly received word from his operative. He viewed Jorge and Undertow Holdings as a thorn in his side. Particularly as Martin Hated, absolutely Hated Mutants, which Jorge seemed to support. He eagerly put out a hit on the unlisted number in the other universe.

Back in the original universe, the result of AV Martin's actions was that Hades was informed that his cabin in the woods had been burned to the ground and the five dogs he was training, killed. That was where he had spent the most time with his burner phone on.

Hades sat in the dark, contemplating. The rage within him burnt a fiery blue. It was not a blind rage that lashes out in haste, it was a stone cold calculating rage that planned meticulously. He sent a text,

"Hit completed in wrong universe. Considered on the house. Other Martin killed my hounds. Possible leak suspected. His demise will be public. Are the change in parameters acceptable? If so send symbol to leave at scene."

Mr Wong was in Virginia, officially he was in Virginia to visit some friends/relatives. Unofficially he was here to gather more information on an underground mutant child smuggling ring. a large mutant smuggling ring, one that involved and estimated 5 crime syndicates. From what he was hearing it was lucrative as well.

Mr Wong wandered into the Chinese restaurant. He was wearing a traditional Chinese Tunic and traditional black cloth shoes. He had been in China town, when in Rome... Mr Wong was here because of a favor. So much of Asian culture ran on relationships. Either that of family or of favors, the giving and taking. Mr Wong/Hades owed a Mr Wu a favor, Mr Wu called to collect, so in return Mr Wong had to turn up to a restaurant and talk to some westerner. Of course Mr Wong was not just a simple Chinese chief, he was an assassin who went by the call sign Hades. Hades being Hades would never walk into a meeting without doing some research. So "Mr Wong" knew that he was about to sit down with one Officer Ashton Lowell Drake, age 40 or the MRC division, the question that intrigues Mr Wong was Why? What would prompt Wu to call in a favor. There was only one way to find out.

Hades entered the restaurant, it was the kind with booths with high backs, perfect for discrete conversations. It was busy too, noisy enough that individual conversations could not easily be overheard, an excellent choice, but for what? Mr Wong slid into the seat opposite the American. He ordered Hokkien Fried Rice then turned to Ashton.

"I am Mr Wong, Wu sent me hea, I owe him fava. He lo say way he wan me hea. So who a you and how can I help?"

>”Howdy, friend. Nice shootin’. Better than one-third MoA on a wood stock, tha’s just impressive.”

Hades nodded at the compliment. He raised his eyes from the scope, observing the speaker. Texan no doubt from the accent. Estimated height 5'10, toned. Posture, handling of weapon and choice of weapon suggests military. But it was the silhouette. There was something familiar about that silhouette, It was nagging him. Well there was one way to find out.

Hades held out the rifle. It was most definitely not factory. It was a work of art. It was a pre-'64 model. As it caught the light the dark gleam blazed in a high sheen that was practically a lost art. The wood was a dense, from that of an ancient walnut tree, the kind that is not found many places, nor was it ever. If one paid close attention, one would notice the serial number: 100000. It was a hand made variant. It did not fire, it thundered, it roared. It was .. beautiful.

"Hades, pleased to meet you. Go for it."

He said by way of greeting and answer to the question in the Texan's eyes. He gestured to the box of ammo. Long .300 H&Hs, Four inches of shell, powder and bullet. The man was practically itching to get a good look at his rifle. Hades had seen him shoot earlier. He was no amateur, and more importantly he took care of his rifles, so Hades figured why not. Plus Hades had an ulterior motive

There were many things that stuck in Hades memory, may thing s that were unique about an individual. Each shooter has his or her own distinct prone shooting position. Hades felt certain that if he saw the mans shooting position, that and his voice would jog his memory.

The kind of man who noticed the little details and took care of his guns, one who did not just come for bragging rights, but loved the art, the challenge, that was someone that Hades would not mind hanging out for a while with. To that end, he added.

"You beat my score, I'll pick up your tab for the day."

Tab meant drinks, regardless of how he scored, Hades would happily share a drink. Hence the generous offer, and an added incentive. Hades sat back and watched. He had a feeling that this was going to be good.

Hades had already started doing some preliminary surveillance when the clients text came in.

>"Excellent. Make it accidental. Live stream possible?"

Accidental, that narrowed the options, but only slightly. Accidental could mean anything from choking to death in a restaurant full of guests, accidental electrocution in the bathroom, slipping down stairs to the far more dramatic. Hades recalled one of the most dramatic "accidental" deaths he had arranged. It was a multi-millionaire who had built a steel and glass monstrosity in a city in Dubai. One of the features of said building was a cantilevered swimming pool made from high strength glass, more than half the pool was suspended in mid air. In the dead of night Hades had climbed the building and drilled a weak spot in the pool, filled it with a time delay acid and simply waited for the target to take his morning swim. The results had been spectacular, and untraceable. But for this one, perhaps something different. yet still dramatic.

"Conditions accepted. Contract confirmed. Will initiate stream when ready."

That was it. Hades had given his word, the contract would be carried out regardless now. It was a known fact that Hades always completed his contracts, regardless the circumstances.

Hades began surveillance in earnest. Within minutes Hades had the personal diary of one Mr Martin Doheny on his screen in front of him. Minutes later his banking information, personal and corporate. Hades set Winston to work running recognition algorithms and data mining programs to churn through the terabytes and terabytes of data. Apparently Mr Doheny always drove with two escort vehicles, one in front one behind. the same route every day.

Now relying on traffic cameras and digital information is all very well and good but it never paid to become too reliant on such methods. Nothing could compete with actually eyeballing the locations. In two days Hades had already picked out one primary location and two secondary locations for Mr Doheny to meet his demise. Now all that was needed was a little bit of elbow grease.

As this client was very generous with his price, Hades would supply high quality results. This was in the form of multiple cameras. Accident site Alpha would be on the exit to the Lincoln Tunnel, the turn where road 495 overlaps the light rail. Accident site Beta and Charlie were at a construction site and en-route home respectively.

Mr Doheny was in a good mood as he sat in the back of his wallowing Cadillac. He preferred comfort. At the present moment in time he was sipping a bloody Mary and enjoying the sun rise in New York while putting financial pressure on a hapless land owner to sell his property, by literally forcing him out of business. The fear filled pleading voice issuing from the speaker of his phone was as a soothing lullaby, perfect for the start of a new day. Then it all changed.

Un-noticed by anyone a small object detached from the rear bumper of the lead escort vehicle. That object had two functions, which it performed admirably. The first was to cause a catastrophic blowout of the front right tire of Mr Doheny's car. The second was to fragment and leave no trace behind.

Martin heard a bang and suddenly his car lurched to the right. Naturally at Mr Doheny's instance they were going well above the speed limit so a sudden swerve was accompanied by substantial momentum. There was no hope of stopping. The car veered right, climbed the guard rail and fell. A hidden web cam and mic captured every facial twitch, expression and sound in high definition. Another camera in the bumper showed where the car was going. A hijacked traffic camera recorded the event from yet another angle. When a client paid Hades generously, he got generous results.

The car landed heavily on the tracks. There was even enough time for Martin to regain consciousness and see the train coming towards him. He tugged frantically at his seat belt. It would not come undone. The spring had been removed. The camera swiveled to track him. Its last shot showed the train perfectly framed behind Martin Doheny and then static. Then an instant before impact both web cameras disintegrated.

Hades collected the recordings, all three angles, the audio, new reports from two separate new channels as well as a copy of the coroners report and sent it to the client.

"Stand by for file transmission. Contract complete"

The final burst of information was a bank account number in the Caymans. Hades work was done.

> "Even for someone who knows Kung-Fu, taking out ten men is no mean feat."

Mr Wong shrugged his shoulders expressively. He wondered if he had perhaps given too much away. He had not wanted to derail the potential of cooperation between him and the NYPD.

Mr Wong watched Quins face for reactions as he spoke. He was not disappointed. He noted that the word smuggling triggered something, a separate train of though perhaps. The hardening of her expression as he mentioned children, the disdain, the anger. Then as the final piece slid home, the stunned expression, as the scale of the information began to sink in.

Quin seemed to deliberate for a second then come to some internal decision. She held out her hand. Mr Wong shook it.

>"You've got a deal. Now that we've got a starting point, we can put people and surveillance out to see what we can find. My superiors wouldn't be thrilled with the idea of me feeding info back to a CI, but in this case, I'll do it anyway. The deal I draw up won't be able to say that officially though. This will be a quid pro quo situations though. I won't expect anything else from you, until I have something to bring."

"Agleed" Mr Wong nodded. It was understandable and it was a good deal. He had dealt this way many many times before.

>"How should I get a hold of you to draw less attention next time?"

Mr Wong considered for a moment, then allowed a slightly sheepish expression to cross his face.

"Ummm, wewwwww. You could pletend to be my giloflend." He held up his hand to stall any protest, he was not finished yet.

"You seee, first of aww I lot the only tonge dat, how you say it, waggs. So if dere is weston wooman come to see Mr Wong oftun den they fink someting intalesting going on, maybe somtin someone would pay for. But if you pletend to be gilofliend den the most day do is tease me and it raises my soscial standing."

He held his hand near the floor. "Mr Wong is chief and lestaulant."
His hand moved up to his knees. "Mr Wong have gilofliend."
His hand moved to mid thigh. "Mr Wong have weston gilofliend."
His hand moved to his waist. "Mr Wong have weston giloflend wif red hea."
His hand moved to his neck. "Mr Wong have weston giloflendwif red hea who is hot!"

He shrugged in a slightly embarassed fasion. "It pletend only, unless you like balding asian men wif comb ova." He joked. "Plus you get to have disocut when you eat hea. Odawise we can allange a meeting time if you would plefer data instead."

Below are the NPC staff members that live in the base underneath the Hotel Continental. All can be considered unswerving loyal to Hades.

Cyber Security:
Name: Winston, just Winston.
Age: File not found

Winston is a mutant who no longer has any physical form, he exists completely in digital cyberspace. It was rumored that he was a Israeli Mossad trained officer before his mutation activated late in life. Best not try to mess with him in any areas involving technology. He met Hades way before his mutant powers became active and served with Hades on many covert missions. They have saved each others lives numerous times.

Chief of Security:
Name: Mislav O'Keer
Age: 500
Height: 7 feet something
Weight ~362 Kg

Mislav O'Keer is a veteran of many wars and skirmishes. A mecenary with a long history of successes. Think Krogan from the Mass Effect series. Not more need be said.



Procurement Specialist:
Name: Sidorovich, No last name
Age: 40-ish

Not a lot is known about Sidorovich. He prefers to say in the shadows. He likes it that way. He is Russian, and has an uncanny ability to obtain almost anything for the right price.

Grounds Keeper:
Name: No-Face
Age: Indeterminate

No one quite knows what No-Face is. He might have been human once. This mutant seems to be permanently phased. It is suspected that he knew Hades before Hades memories were wiped. He has the ability to mold and shape rock, soil and even concrete at will. He/It is in charge of the upkeep of Hades hideout underneath the Hotel Continental