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Pitch Black is the second arc of The Underground series

Chapter 11 of 22

The Beast Within

"You've been different lately. I know there's been a lot going down, but it just seems like it's hitting you harder than normal."

The blue vixen sat in the passenger's seat of their SUV, looking at one of the more expensive apartment complexes in Arcadia. The building looked almost like a mirror that was placed in the middle of the city, the state of the architecture gave it a clean, pristine appeal. However, it seemed out of place in this city, like it didn't belong. Jenna leaned back in her seat and checked the time.

Any minute now.

She heard Alias let out a sigh and sink back into his seat behind the wheel as well.

"Abductions, snipers, asshole bankers putting hits out on us, yeah that usually stresses me out." He replied simply, after which Alias fell quiet for a few minutes. "You sure this is our guy?"

Jenna nodded. After Alias had made his break from Delirium, she had returned to their apartment, leaving Mick with Abby. For the next umpteen hours, she had poured over a small laptop, dubbed ‘The Blackwell' which housed most of Alias's personal data about his occupation. Even with the option of using the operating system, Jenna moved faster by simply using the Blackwell's command prompt, nothing she wasn't familiar with. Only this style of prompt was much simpler than traditional DOS commands, as in they were more flexible.

After scrounging through lines of code in about six different servers around the world (which had been a real treat), she had managed to back trace the email to a banker who lived in Arcadia. He was good and had done well in covering his tracks. The vixen smiled to herself, but he wasn't as good as her.

"Well, because I love you, this girl spent the better part of the night and most of the morning running that trace and the Blackwell came back with a positive ID. Matched the name with a bank. Even traced that StormRaven guy's account back to this Preston guy." The vixen scowled in confusion. "Here's what I don't get; why would this banker guy put a hit out on you? Like why him?"

"It's a public front." Alias explained. "This Shadow Player, whoever he is, is giving Preston some serious cash to make these things happen. He grabs Mick, sets him loose to trace him back to me, has this guy put a hit out, and hopefully silence everyone. Whatever the Hell Waverly Hill is, it stays a secret."

"Is that the working theory?"

Alias shrugged. "Makes the most sense doesn't it?" He asked, looking over at her. "The sniper mentioned a ‘Waverly Hill'. Could that be where they were holding Mick?" He shrugged. "Maybe. Whatever's going on there they don't want anyone to know about it. Considering they took notice of me when I cross referenced those accounts at the bank that this Plazowisk Preston works at, they must think I was looking into them so I must have hit a nerve."

Jenna nodded. "Those were the accounts you got from the file Hets had, right?"

"What's left of them anyway. Didn't recognize any of the names, and after all this I haven't had time to actually look into it."

"You want me to check out those names sometime?" Jenna offered to which Alias shrugged.

"You have your paws full. No sense in you getting wrapped up in all this."

Jenna let out a little laugh at this. "A little late for that. So, what happens from here?"

"Now, I make Plaz Preston talk." Alias replied simply. "Only I've got this feeling he's not going to be very cooperative."

The black fox shifted in his seat, and turned to face Jenna. His jaw was set with the look that he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, and Jenna understood why. For as young as Alias was, only a few years older than her, he was aged emotionally beyond his years. Jenna wasn't stupid enough not to recognize that Alias was carrying the weight of their world on his shoulders. With Mick out of action, Abby being gracious enough to care for the mink, and Jenna not having enough experience in Underground politics to do much of anything useful, it was only natural that all this fell on Alias. It wasn't fair by any means, but Alias knew his part. Jenna only wanted to fill her role as well. If she was by Alias's side through it, then as far as she was concerned she couldn't lose.

"Which is why I'm going to ask you to wait out here..." Alias sighed, still not looking over at her.

Jenna sighed, exasperated. "Are we really going to have to do this again?"

"Look," Alias started, quietly and without malice, "normally I'd trust you to make your own decision. Given, you've more than proved yourself in a fight before." The black fox turned to Jenna and shook his head. "This time things are different." He explained. "Preston isn't going to want to talk... but I'm going to make sure that he does." Dropping his chin, Alias pensively ran his paw through his jet-black hair. "Even if that means coercing him. I really hope it doesn't come to that, but if he forces my paw then I will. Just not sure if you should see this."

Jenna nodded, hoping she understood. Hopefully, this guy would simply break and confess. It's not like they didn't have physical evidence of his involvement. Jenna couldn't see why anyone would keep denying what was blatantly obvious.

"This guy tried to kill one of our friends, Alias." Her blue eyes connected with his green ones. "He'll try to kill you too. I don't feel sorry for him. Not in the least."

Alias nodded slowly. "I know..." He paused for a moment. "It's just different when it's actually happening. If he senses you're becoming sympathetic, he'll use that to his advantage. If we go in there, it's balls to the wall. There is no going back unless he can prove otherwise." Alias reached into the center console, pulling out a brand new black Colt .45, courtesy of Mick Stallard. She watched as Alias pulled the slide back, arming the weapon. A sharp, metallic ping sliced through the air as a hollow-tip entered the chamber.

Alias quickly stowed the pistol under his coat and opened the driver's side door. Checking her watch, Jenna noted the time.

5:30. Plazowisk Preston should be home by now.

The two foxes walked casually to the apartment building. Alias timed everything perfectly so that he caught the main door just as another tenant was leaving, allowing him access to the entire complex. Jenna kept her cool, following in Alias's wake. Exiting the elevator, the two moved silently to Preston's apartment on the third floor. The walls were made of concrete in an effort to keep the new age look.

Jenna stopped in front of the right door, as Alias flattened himself against the wall next to it. She looked over at him, as he slowly pulled out his weapon.

"Just like we talked about." He whispered, nodding.

Feeling her face burning slightly as she unbuttoned her top so that her cleavage was on display, Jenna took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

Jenna felt her heart begin to pick up it's pace, beating loudly in her chest. Once she was in the role, she knew she could do this, but the anticipation of it all was what always freaked her out.

Just like at a club. You play; he'll pay.

Jenna only hoped this was as simple.

Her heart jumped as she heard the locks on the door turning. Quickly she leaned casually against the frame, and leaned slightly forward.

The door cracked open, being held in place by the chain lock. A weasel looked out, his eyes wandering up from Jenna's slender, exposed legs, past her skirt, to her chest where they hovered for a moment, before finally making contact with her eyes.

"Y-yes?" The weasel stammered.

"Hi!" Jenna replied in a mock cheery tone, only she could feel a slight quake in her voice. "Can I like, totally ask you a favor."

The weasel scowled. "Yeah, sure." He asked confused. "What's going on?"

Jenna tried her hardest to sound like a complete bimbo. "Well, I'm visiting my cousin this weekend, and I so just locked myself out of the apartment. I was wondering if I could like, use your phone?" She asked sweetly. "I've been waiting for her for, like, ever and this place gets really cold."

The weasel shut the door, and Jenna waited. Presently, she heard the sound of the chain lock being removed and the door opened once again. The weasel stood before her, in a green button-down shirt and black suit pants, tie already removed.

"I'm, like, so sorry about all this." Jenna lied.

"Oh no." Preston replied quickly, grabbing his phone from his pocket. "Who's your cousin? I may know her."

"Jessie Shaw." Jenna replied, remembering the name from the registry in the lobby.

Preston laughed slightly, scrolling through his list of numbers on his phone. "Oh yeah." He said. "I know Jessie. Didn't know she had any family-"

Preston never even knew what hit him. Alias rounded the corner, and in a flash, drove the handle of the pistol into his muzzle with a clunk. The cell phone dropped from Preston's paws, clattering to the hardwood floor. Plazowisk let out a cry of distress, before doing the same thing.

Alias grabbed the unconscious weasel roughly by the shirt, lifting him off the ground and dragged him across the foyer into the kitchen. Jenna, not saying a word, shut the door discreetly behind her. It seemed that nearly everything in Preston's kitchen was of a grey shade. The refrigerator, the stove, the dishwasher, everything matched in an elaborate classy style that showed this weasel was made of money. There was a small island in the middle of the kitchen, opposite the stove. Alias grabbed a chair that was next to a small table in the kitchen, and slung it between the stove and the island. Throwing the weasel into the chair, Alias quickly went to work securing his paws to the arms of the chair so they were palm up, and tied his feet to the legs. Bleeding from his muzzle, the weasel was in a trance, his body not being able to comprehend what exactly had just happened.

While he sat there in his daze, Alias was busy at work. Jenna watched from afar as he grabbed the weasel's button-down shirt by both sides, and jerked them in opposite directions. Buttons were scattered across the floor, their tiny plastic shells could be heard bouncing off the black porcelain tile floor. He then rooted through the drawers and cupboards in the kitchen. He quickly pulled out a drawer; inside there were at least a dozen stainless steel knives. They looked as expensive as they were sharp. Dumping them out on the counter, Alias quickly turned on all four heating elements on the stove, and placed the knives, blade down, on the elements save for one. With that one, he pulled the weasel's homemade espresso machine out of the wall, where he cut the power cord off from the rest of the unit. Stripping the plastic insulation off the end that connected to the machine, Alias worked to split the chord's positive from negative ends, then plugged it into the wall, creating a live wire. Looking at what he had prepared, he exhaled slowly.

It was time to do this.

Getting down low into the weasel's face, Alias brought his paw down hard across his muzzle. The weasel bolted upright in attention at the sudden influx of pain. He could see the memories flood back into the weasel's mind as he looked around, seeing first the angry black fox, and next the blue vixen.

Breathing heavily in fear, the weasel finally managed to speak. "What the hell do you people want?" He asked, with a look of defiance in his eyes.

"Plazowisk Preston?" Alias asked, eyes narrowed. "That's you, right? Social Security Number 205-78-4578, graduate of the University of Palamont, summa cum laude, divorcee." Alias paused for a minute. "What the hell kind of name is Plazowisk?"

"I don't have any money on me." Preston barked back. "It's all in the banks. I don't even have a safe here!"

"I don't want your money, Mr. Preston. Or should I call you Plaz?" Alias grabbed the back of one of the chairs in the kitchen and swung it around backwards so he could lean forward against the back of the chair. "I mean, that's what your friend called you over the email, didn't he?"

The weasel shuddered in a state of fear and panic. "What the hell are you talking about? I'm just a banker!" He cried out.

"Oh I know of your profession, Plaz." Alias replied, looking dead into his eyes. "In fact that's how I came to find you. I have some questions I need you to answer."

"Then get an accountant, dickhead!" Plaz shot back, gaining some courage.

However, Alias shook his head. "Now, you're having a very negative attitude about all this. I don't appreciate that."

"You won't scare me with the whole good cop/bad cop routine!" He shouted defiantly. "Whatever it is you want, you won't get it!"

Alias bolted up, knocking over his chair. Plaz jumped at Alias's sudden movement. His foot kicked the chair, which was on its back, backwards out of the way.

"Believe me, Plaz, I can be very persuasive. Trust me on that." Lowering himself back down to Plaz's face, Alias's dark tone came through clearly. "And trust me when I tell you that this is a road you do not want to go down."

Plaz looked over Alias's shoulder. "You know how to pick them, sweetie." He called to Jenna, who was leaned against the door of the kitchen. She looked over at Plaz when he started speaking to her. "You shack up with him to piss your parents off or something? You know what they do to kidnappers these days?"

"Mr. Preston!" Alias barked, making Plaz jump. "I'd appreciate it if you left my business partner out of this."

"What?" He asked, looking up at Alias. "Don't want her to know what she's getting into?" He chuckled slightly. "Of course not. Don't want her to think about the consequences."

In a dark flash, Alias grabbed a knife from the stovetop, and threw it down at the seat of the chair. Plaz emitted a high-pitched scream, as he shut his eyes, expecting a livid pain through his leg. But no feelings of pain came.

Opening his eyes slowly he looked down to see the knife had buried itself into the chair's wooden surface between his thighs, missing his leg my mere millimeters.

"Believe me, Plaz, I have no qualms about hurting you to get what I need." Alias spoke slowly, making sure he was understood.

Tears forming in the corners of his eyes, Plaz looked from Alias to Jenna, then back to Alias. "What do you want?" He asked, breathing becoming choppy in panic.

"StormRaven Security." Alias stated directly. "You do business for them."

"I list that in my resume! Anyone could tell you that!" Plaz shot back, fear still in his voice.

"What's their connection to a Waverly Hill?"

"What?" He asked, shaking his head slowly. "First of all, how the hell should I know, and secondly, what's Waverly Hill?"

"You tell me, Plaz." Alias said, walking slowly around him. "That's why I'm here. You've got the answers I need."

"Their business is their own!" Plaz cried out. "I don't deal with their affairs, just handle their money! That's all I do! I handled the money, okay?"

Behind the weasel, the black fox leaned down to whisper in his ear.

"You're lying to me."

"I swear to God!"

"God has nothing to do with this. And even if you're religious, you should know that lying is a sin. Bad things happen to sinners. So I'll give you one last try, Plaz." Alias barked. "What or where is Waverly Hill, and why is StormRaven concerned with it?"

"I swear I don't know!" He wailed.

Alias reached for the stripped power cord, severed from the espresso machine. He plugged it into a close socket, keeping his paw safe on the plastic insulation. He saw Plaz's eyes looking at the exposed ends of the copper wire.

"Last chance, Plaz." Alias said gravely. "Last chance to tell me what I need to know before things become... unpleasant. What is StormRaven's connection with Waverly Hill?"

"Please!" He begged, pulling against his restraints in vain. "I swear on my life, I don't know! I couldn't tell you anything, even if I wanted to!" His voice cried out in panic as he saw a small spark arc from the ends of the wires.

Alias shook his head slowly. "I'm sorry you feel that way..."

In one quick motion, Alias pushed both wires into the weasel's exposed chest. The cry Plaz Preston let out as the current used his body as a conductor and the circuit closed was one that would make most ears bleed. Jenna's paw snapped to her mouth in horror as she saw the effects of the cord on the weasel. His face grimaced as his muscles contracted due to the lightning passing through his system. His body convulsed violently, and out of control. Alias watched Plaz through deadened eyes. His cry was one of pure pain and anguish. Jenna could almost feel Plaz's blood begin to boil, she could sense his body's muscles contracting all at the same time. She had a loose understanding of how the body worked, but she knew it relied on electrical signals. Right now, Alias was overloading every neuron in Plaz's body.

Finally, he pulled the cord away from the weasel. The smell of burnt fur, and seared flesh hit Jenna's nose instantly. Looking down at Plaz, Jenna could see a thin wisp of smoke rise from his chest, accompanied by two small, but noticeable burn marks where the fur had been smoldered away.

Alias looked down at the weasel, who sat there swaying, and twitching as the last of the shock passed through his body. Carefully, Alias pushed two fingers into Plaz's neck, feeling his pulse. His heart beat wildly out of control. It was like he had used an automated external defibrillator on him, a very crude one.

"You know what's great about what I'm doing to you Plaz?" Alias asked, in an antagonizing voice, walking over to the chair he had kicked over earlier. "The current going through you won't kill you. Well, not if I take it away in time, but it'll hurt like hell." He said, dragging his chair across the floor, producing a low howl as the metal feet scraped against the tile. "I will do this as many times as I have to."

Tears ran openly down Plaz's face. He no longer tried to play the role of the tough guy. "Please..." He sobbed, looking down at the floor in shame, "...you don't have to do this..."

"No, I don't." Alias confirmed. "But I need answers! All the signs point to you! I tracked the paper trail and it led right to your desk!"

"...must be some mistake." Plaz whined in tears.

"I killed your hitman! He mentioned Waverly Hill!" Alias growled in his dark fashion. "What's it going to be, Plaz?"

The weasel still shook his head, tears dropping from his face. "I don't know... I don't know anything..."

The weasel's sobs were suddenly replaced by screams of agony as Alias pushed the wire back into his chest. His body reacted more violently this time, jerking and wrenching against the chair so that it almost was walking away. Jenna had to look away, as she gagged on the smell of burnt fur.

"You think I like doing this?" Alias questioned, an acidic quality entering his voice. "You think I like lowering myself to your level?" Alias grabbed a razor sharp knife with a pot-holder off the stove's element; the blade almost glowing blue. Grabbing the weasel's paw, Alias turned it so that it was palm up, and pressed the sweltering blade against Plaz's paw.

He shrieked out loud again as steamy smoke rose from his upturned paw. It sounded like Alias had dropped something onto a skillet to let it fry. The sizzling and popping seemed almost deafening. Regardless of the sounds or smells, both Plaz and Jenna could see no mercy in Alias's eyes.

Alias removed the blade from Plaz, observing the red and black seared flesh that used to be the bottom of his trembling paw. If not a third degree burn, Jenna was sure Plaz's paw was close to it. Alias then threw the knife against the wooden cabinets in frustration. The blade buried itself deep into the surface.

Alias stepped back, watching the crying weasel. He spoke random inaudible nonsense, cursing both Alias and his predicament.

Jenna slowly walked up behind Alias, gently putting her paw on Alias's bicep, in turn he jerked, as he always did when touched.

Jenna shook her head. "I don't know Alias..." She whispered to him, making sure Plaz couldn't hear her. "Maybe we made a mistake, maybe this isn't our guy..."

However, Alias shook his head, jaw firmly set.

"No." He whispered back to her in his dark tone. "He's holding out. There's something he's not telling us."

"How do you know?" She asked, not doubting him, but out of legitimate curiosity.

"I've seen enough people go through this to know." Alias replied, folding his arms. "I don't have the time to wait for him to come around or the luxury of not finding out. Everything has led us to him."

"But what if we were wrong?" Jenna asked. "What if he's just another guy?" She asked, concern in her voice.

Alias stayed quiet for a second. Fathoming the idea that they had made a huge mistake was a hard one. Not only would it leave them with a cold trail, but also with the knowledge they had done these horrible acts to someone who had nothing to do with what had happened to Mick.

"Then I'll have made the fuckup of the century." Alias replied slowly. He looked over at Jenna, her blue eyes were stuck somewhere between a state of alarm and fear. "You know I can't just let this go." He explained still whispering, but not harshly in the manner he spoke to Plaz. "What happens if they come after you next time? Hell, they could whisk you away where it could be months before I could track you down, if at all." Alias took in a deep breath. "This is our guy, I know it. Everything leads to him."

Alias stepped away from the blue vixen to continue Plaz's interrogation.

"You want to know where I learned all this?" Alias asked Plaz, cold dark tone seeping back into his speech. "You ever been far east, out of the country? They don't have money for fancy interrogation techniques. They have to make due with what's available to them. Wire brushes on drills, belts from cars, this fancy cord," he said picking up the severed espresso cord, "you know they even would put pure pepper extract into glass syringes, then inject them under your skin?" Alias shook his head. "I've never seen grown males cry like that before."

As Alias talked, Plaz began to cry and sob harder, still in intense suffering.

"Your call on where we go from here." Alias explained. "I've got plenty of knives, and I don't think your electricity is going to be shut off anytime soon."

The weasel slowly raised his head to face his interrogator. "Why are you doing this to me?" He sobbed pathetically. His voice was weak with pain and distress. "I'm just a banker... just a god damn banker!"

"I know you're telling the truth about that." Alias replied. "I know you are a banker, which is why I can see you're lying to me when you say that you don't know what I'm talking about."

"I'm not lying..." His speech broken through tears.

"There are signs, Plaz!" Alias retorted in anger. "I can see it in your eyes when you lie to me! Even a six year old can see when you're lying after you tell them there is a Santa Clause! Do I look like I'm less than six years old?" Alias demanded to know in a threatening tone.

Still crying, Plaz shook his head.

"Then quit fucking treating me like I am!" Alias grabbed Plaz's muzzle forcing him to make eye contact. Alias's green eyes were narrow, as if he was stalking Plaz as his prey. "You decide when this ends!"

Alias quickly let go of the weasel, and grabbed the power cord. The electricity arced through Plaz's weakening body. Alias spoke as he again convulsed and screamed in pain.

"You decide when this ends, Plaz." Alias explained. Jenna, who was standing behind Alias could hardly watch. She felt her gag reflexes kick in as she smelled his burning body. His screams echoed like a rubber ball in her mind, almost as if they were becoming a part of her. It felt like she could almost feel the pain he was experiencing. The whole time, all she could think of was if they were wrong. Images flashed into her mind, she saw him as a child, with his parents, on his wedding day; all innocent images.

"I've about had enough of this!" Alias hissed as he jerked the power cord out of the wall and threw it on the counter. "You think you know what pain is now?" Alias grabbed the weasel by his collar. "You think you have any fucking idea what pain is? I can show you the true meaning of pain, motherfucker!"

Alias grabbed another smoldering knife off the stove, only this time he pressed the metal blade against the weasel's muzzle. Alias gripped Plaz by the hair, forcing him to hold his face still.

"God! Please stop! Please!" He pleaded with Alias through his screams of relentless agony. He screamed like a soul who found itself locked in hell, crying out in pain and confusion.

"What's it worth to you Plaz?" Alias barked. "Is whatever your protecting worth all this?" He asked removing the knife, tossing it aside. Alias looked down at the weasel, livid flesh beneath his partially burned away fur stood out clearly. His skin was cracked and split, looking like the worst sunburn Jenna had ever seen.

"Are you going to tell me what I need to know?" Alias asked, bending down to Plaz.

Still crying, Plaz spoke. "Please..." He pleaded as best he could with a severely burned muzzle. "Please stop..."

Jenna followed Plaz's eyes. They were no longer focused on Alias, but rather on her now. He was addressing her.

"I'll stop when you tell me what I need to know!" Alias interjected.

"...I don't know anything... I have kids... please don't let him do this..." His brown eyes were fixed on Jenna, who remained silent in the corner of the kitchen.

"You want to see them again someday? You'll tell me what I need to know! Tell me about Waverly!" Alias demanded.

"...I'm not a bad person... I didn't do anything to hurt you..." He whimpered, tears dripping down his face. Jenna could see her reflection in his eyes.

"They didn't even give the guy I knew a chance to explain himself!" Alias growled, sounding like he was about to decapitate Plaz. "You want to know what they did to him? They just tortured him nonstop for a few months, didn't ask a fucking question!"

"...I'm not them... I have a family... you can stop this..."

Alias quickly grabbed a knife off the counter and moved in front of Plaz where Jenna could no longer see his face. The room then reverberated with Plaz's shrieks of pain, as if Alias was slowly murdering him. He screamed so long and so loud, Jenna was sure he would pass out. When Alias turned around she saw why.

Blood poured from the end of Plaz's paw, as she saw Alias toss a bloody finger on the kitchen island. Both paws smacked to her muzzle in revulsion when she saw the bloody stump left on Plaz's paw; heart crashing against her chest with every pulse. Her mind could only focus on two things: the screams from Plaz, and the sound of blood draining out of his stump and smacking the porcelain tile, pooling on the black surface.

Without warning, her mind flashed back to her own interrogation. She saw herself deep beneath the surface of the earth, in a damp interrogation room. She remembered the pains of it all, the humiliations she went through. Smelling Plaz's blood, she suddenly felt as if it was in her mouth, as if she could taste it. She remembered the taste of blood. She remembered spitting out globs of the sticky metallic substance onto the concrete floor. Her stomach turned with a painful queasiness as she began to feel slightly light headed.

She stepped forward, her mind full of doubt. "Alias-"

"If you can't handle this, then you need to leave! Just step outside!" Alias cut her off, turning around to look at her. "I have more of these left!" He barked, turning back to Plaz. "I'm just going to start cutting you! You have plenty of things to lose, and still maintain the ability to speak!" Alias traced over the weasel with the very tip of the knife, however, careful not to cut him. "I'll start with an eye, and then I'll go to the other one. You have any idea what it's like to live in perpetual darkness?" He questioned the crying weasel. "After that I'll just keep cutting you!" Alias's tone was like nothing Jenna had ever heard. Bloodlust was in his voice. She almost couldn't believe this was the same person she shared an apartment with. "And I'll keep cutting you until you finally tell me what I need to know!" Alias paused for a second, waiting for Plaz to reply.

"I'm done talking with you!" Alias roared when he got no answer. He moved around behind Plaz spreading his eyelid with his paw. Alias moved the now cool blade to the corner of his eye, which bulged out. Jenna turned away, on the verge of vomiting.

"Alright! Alright!" Plaz screamed out. Alias stopped, not moving the blade away from Plaz, but not applying pressure. "I contracted StormRaven to run security at a place called Waverly Hill!" He cried out desperately.

"Where do you play into all of this?" Alias demanded.

"If I say anything else, they'll kill me!"

"And what you're going through is so much better?"

"I already told you, I'm a banker!" He cried out.

Alias's arm moved, the tip of the blade putting more pressure on the corner of Plaz's eyeball. "In the Invisible War. Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about!" Alias growled.

"I don't know the name of my client! I swear to God I don't know!"

Alias looked as if he was debating something in his head, and he eventually came to a conclusion. "Keep going."

"Money comes in from an offshore account. All I have is an account number, no names, even if I wanted to know, a foreign bank wouldn't tell me! I made it look legitimate!"

"So you don't even know the person you're working for?" Alias asked sounding disgusted.

"I get paid too much to ask questions!" Plaz defended himself in his whiny voice. "They tell me what they need done!"

"Tell me about Waverly Hill." Alias switched subjects.

"I was told to purchase a plot of land. I didn't see anything special about it. I don't even know where it's located!" Plaz stammered, hoping to please the fox further with his information. "According to the deed, there were three partial owners to that land! I divided the funds my client transferred between them, and purchased the land."

Alias scowled. "Who were these people?" Plaz didn't answer at first, prompting Alias to apply a little pressure.

"I couldn't tell you!" He groaned in pain, beads of sweat running down his face. "But one of the owners is a higher up with StormRaven! I contracted SRS to run security there! You find her, you'll find Waverly!"

"How long ago was this?"

"Maybe about a year ago. I don't know!"

"Why would they want it?"

"It's a piece of shit plot of land, in the middle of fucking nowhere north of Arcadia! How the hell should I know?"

"Think!" Alias demanded, putting pressure on the blade. "You don't just hire trained mercs to guard a piece of land that isn't important!"

Plaz let out a whimper. "All I know is it held property value greater than what the land itself was worth!"

"Something's built there?"

"That's the only thing I can guess. I never saw the details from the survey team that appraised the land! I swear that's the God's honest truth!"

"Why didn't you want to tell me this?"

"They would have killed me!" Plaz's cried out. He looked over at Jenna, who felt herself return to reality upon Plaz's confession. "The assassin he killed was StormRaven! Jenna, they would have sent someone after me! I've got a family for Christ's sake!"

In a flash, Jenna locked eyes with the weasel, feeling a jolt of electricity flash through her body at the mention of her name. She walked slowly over to him. "How do you know my name?" She asked slowly.

Plaz opened his mouth to say something, but clearly thought better of it, and shut it again.

"He's never called me by my first name since I've been here!" Jenna yelled at Plaz, panic entering her voice. "How do you know who I am?"

Plaz remained quiet for moment. "The assassin..." He spoke in a frail voice. "You were going to be his next contract..."

Jenna slowly backed away; paws went through her hair in distress, feeling her throat tighten and the walls of the kitchen start to close around her.

Alias grabbed the chair and spun it around violently so that Plaz was facing him. "You put the hit out on Mick, but why Jenna and not me?" He hissed at Plaz.

"The sniper did recon work before you killed him. He snapped a picture of her with the mink, he never saw you! The Shadow Player considers him a security risk, and if he was talking to her then she was a risk too. It didn't click today until I saw you..." Plaz looked up at Alias. "I don't need to tell you, you don't just put hits out on people you don't know! I did a background check, she came up easy because of her father."

"How much do they know?" Alias snarled, digging the knife into Plaz ever so slightly.

"Nothing!" Plaz whined in pain. "I never had time to report it!"

"You've already lied to me once, Plaz!"

Tears began streaming down Plaz's face as he realized his future was growing darker by the second. "Please! I'm telling you the truth!"

"Then tell me how to find the Shadow Player!" Alias demanded. When Preston didn't answer, Alias moved the blade to Plaz's cheek and slowly brought the knife down, leaving a line of red blood in it's wake.

"Waverly's his base of operations!" The weasel screamed out in pain. "I swear to God I don't know where that is! You've got to believe me!"

"Then tell me how to find him!"

"The StormRaven executive I told you about! She probably kept records of their deployment grid, she'd be the one to know!" Plaz pleaded. "Look, they're going to come after me! You've got to help me!"

"Help you?" Alias snarled. "Help you? You tortured a friend of mine. You were going to kill Jenna!"

"I didn't have a choice!" Plaz wailed. "They expected me to clean this up! I had to do something!"

"You exposed Jenna to the same people who spent half a year torturing someone just because they knew me!" Alias snarled through gritted teeth, inferno raging in his eyes.

"It was just a job! That's all! It was just a job to me!"

Alias dropped the knife away, and reached into his overcoat. In a flash, he pulled out his suppressed .45 and pressed it against the right side of Plaz's head. Jenna watched as the opposite side of Plaz's head burst like an overly ripe tomato. Pieces of skull exploded out the opposite side of his head, a combination of crimson blood and what Jenna could only guess was his brain matter smacked against the wall with a wet slap.

Alias remained fixed for a minute, then moved his arm away from the dead weasel, letting what was left of his head slump to the side.

For the next few minutes, there was nothing but silence. Jenna's eyes flashed from Plaz to Alias, to the wall, then back to Plaz. The vixen was stuck in a state of what seemed like a combination of shock and denial. What exactly had just happened here? Jenna felt like she was watching a movie. Like everything that she had just witnessed was simply an act of fiction.

"Hey!"

Jenna's attention snapped to Alias.

"Are you alright?" Alias asked her, holstering his pistol.

"Yeah..." She let out quietly. Her mind still trying to process what exactly had just happened.

He raised an eyebrow "You sure?"

"Yeah... it's nothing." Jenna reassured, her mind slowly processing everything.

"We've got to go." Alias stated. "Once this Shadow Player finds out what happened here, they'll know we're onto them. They'll cover this up, which is always a good thing."

Alias moved to the door, Jenna followed almost in a catatonic state. Alias seemed so apathetic to all of this. Maybe Alias felt everything she did, he just dealt with all of this differently than Jenna. As an assassin who had been doing this for awhile now, maybe he just stored it all away, and drowned it all in Scotch.

Jenna hoped Alias felt something. She hoped that he felt the same sickness of what they had done here today as she did.

She hoped he felt something more than recoil.