....Pour l'amour....

[Khaki]

This was the downfall of being a White spy, sometimes they ask of you things you simply could not do. His sniper rifle was pointed at his target, a man in a business suit. A Frenchman like he was. A mafia man with drug connections here. He was 'checking on the stock'. The White nation leader had told him to take him out. The mafia he was affiliated with had information on him, a manipulative, cunning man who had stolen White nation secrets. A small sigh left him, his one eye focused on the man through the scope. That slippery smile coming to his face. The look triggered a memory...

"Rappelez-vous, badinez, jamais jamais rat dehors vos frères. Nous sommes un famille à travers et à travers… n'oublions pas qui votre famille est." The man in front of him said, putting a hand on the child's head, ruffling the short locks of hair. Twin pools of emerald green stared back up at the man. The young boy was a paper runner for them, an unknown drug runner too. "Nous prendrons soin de vous, comme si vous étiez notre propre. Rappelez-vous cela."

That had been the last time he had seen this man...no. As an adult, now, he saw him all the time. And his former loyalty had his trigger finger tense. After a moment he let go of it, pulling his hand away and watching as his former 'father' walked out of his line of sight. Damn. He got up, tugging his gun into its case and darting towards the fire escape ladder on the other side. There had been plenty of time for him to shoot and kill that man. But could he throw it away...? No...not yet.

He threw the case into a strap backpack, and then onto his shoulders. Scrambling down the ladder he slipped down the alleyway he was in, his white outfit, the White nation uniform, a soft muted color in the sun. It contrasted beautifully with his vibrant red hair and singular green orb. If only he had the nerve...but he couldn't. Not that man, or any of the others White Nation had on their hit list. There would be no killing them. Not by his hands....not ever.

[ShadesofGrey]

Sadly for the man in White there was an older man with the same name on his list that day, it was ordered down by a higher ranked agent to him. He was watching diligently through his scope from a high up window. His pink tongue was slightly sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he aimed, watching out for other people that might get in his targeted path. That to his leader would have been unacceptable. Killing a civilian unnecessarily.

With a slight chuckle his trigger finger steadied as he waited for the right moment and then he pulled back and let time almost fly by as he saw the target stagger, stumble and fall. Seeing the blood that began to stain the other's business suit. He smirked showing a few of his pearly whites. "Gotchya..." He declared taking a stand from his kneeling position, picking up his weapon at hand he began to pack it away. Oh this was going so well, he had finished his 'mission' with a little extra time to just poke around and see what he could get into. So after packing up he figured he may as well had let the poking around begin.

[Khaki]

The tinkling of glass is what made him stop. His heartbeat in his throat. What...the redhead turned back and jogged to the corner...the building he'd just been targeting was now in a semi-panic. The mob's second was dead, bleeding out on the floor. Francois's eye was wide, then it was darting about, narrowed with an intense burning hatred. Who had shot him? Another White bastard? Or someone else? He saw movement through a window, a glimpse of red...his hand moved before he even knew it, his hand pistol in it, loaded, the safety clicked off, and four bullets leaving the cylinders all almost at once. He didn't need to be a genius to notice the gun in the others hand. Even from this distance. Perhaps he should have stayed with his famille...they would have relied on him more, they would be safe.

As it was, the man that had raised him was dead. Gone from his life now forever. Dammit. He'd only turned his back a second...he should have warned him, should have....should have told him!! His famille came first...and he'd let down the one that he cared for most. "Bâtard, comment défi vous!" This probably wasn't the smartest thing in the world to do...but since when had he used brains when stewing in rage? Not very often. Then again, he;d never had reason to be...really angry.

[ShadesofGrey]

Red heard the gunshots and duct down instinctively to feel his hat be thrown off of his head as a bullet had taken down his most favorite accessory. Well damn, that was upsetting now wasn't it? Then he felt the hot piece of led pierce through his flesh and muscle on his right shoulder, he winced letting out something along the sounds of a grunt and groan rolled into one strange noise.

He hadn't been looking so he knew not who had shot at him. "Damnit all..." He grumbled as he stayed down on the ground regaining his hat and deciding to carry his gun case with his better side. Sliding along he managed to get out of the door to the room, scaring the mess out of one of the maids that had come to turn down the covers to the bed and clean a bit. He grinned as she gave a surprised scream then pushed himself onto his feet and ran out into streets, quickly making his way into an alley.

[Khaki]

The bastard was out of the window, for now he was out of the way. His feet carried him into the building, and to where the corpse was. "Gustav..." He fell to his knees beside him, his gun making a dull clunk on the floor beside him. "Mon frere." He murmured, wiping blood from the others face. Even dead he was respectful, turning him onto his back and examining the wound. That bastard in red was a spy, there was no doubt of it. Red, again a no brainer. The White embassy would have records on him. He'd track this man down to his last breath if necessary. There was no more need for hesitation. He was not a White spy. He was a French Mafia member. His famille was his obligation...it was too bad it had taken this to convince him of it.

"Sommeil bien, mon frère, je prendrai soin de notre famille..." He murmured to the corpse, his hand gently moving to close the mans eyes. He looked around at those close to him, and gently picked up his gun, putting it in his belt. "Do not touch 'im....'e will come 'ome with me." He cocked his gun and his singular eye darted out of the building. "I 'ave someone else to deal with first." His French accent probably made his English bad. But he didn't care at all.

[ShadesofGrey]

Red was sitting out of the way of anyone, hidden really, he was trying to take care of his own wounds and was doing a shity job of it. It was harder than it looked and the Spaniard knew that from many experiences. He called back into the Embassy informing them of his position currently and that the target had been taken down. So far other than being shot now he was thinking that everything was going rather well.

He would wince every now and again but over all he was doing okay with everything, the pain was bearable thus far. He kept his eyes and ears open as he sat in the back of a random ally way listening for what could be his possible shooter.

[Khaki]

Now that bastard had probably stopped to deal with whatever wounds he'd gotten, if any. So, with confident long strides he started out of the building and down the street. He had his gun drawn, holding it in both hands as he made sure alleyways were empty, once at the building he'd shot the man at he slipped down its nearest alley, footsteps as quiet as he could make them. His need to have revenge might be distorting his feel of what he was doing...but he'd have his way, he'd kill this man and he'd go back to France...he'd get back in with his famille, he'd steal secrets from White for them. He would protect their positions...anything to keep them safe.

[ShadesofGrey]

Red stopped his movement and hushed his breathing. Fuck....fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck...just damn it all to hell someone else was coming. He tried getting up quietly to keep himself unknown about as he looked at a small wall before him, if he had been uninjured he would have had no problem scaling it but now it was questionable and he knew he probably wouldn't make it.

Swallowing hard he thought he may as well make a run for it, after fighting bulls, being a spy and all he was pretty damn fast. He grabbed his 'equipment' and made a dash for it, taking his soonest found turn and making his way through the streets as though his feet had been or just generally were on fire. Moving his arm hurt but he'd get over it if it meant he would be able to keep living just a little longer, especially if he would be able to see his lover again. It kept him going in some strange way.

[Khaki]

As soon as he heard running he took off, following the sound. That was the funny thing about losing his eye. His hearing had improved just that little bit much more. Today it was about to become the best thing that ever happened to him. With a snarl he whipped his way out of the alley, leveling his gun at the other man as soon as he saw him. Fucking bastard was going to die right now, whether or not he ran. There was no escape right now. Top of his game, his senses doing double time to the anger and loss fueled adrenaline pounding through his veins. And fuck whatever witnesses were around. This guy was going down.

His gun pointed, and the recoil of it brought his hand back to his side, smoke barely blinding him before he was past it. This guy was going down...and he was pleased to note that the other was bleeding already. A shot through the shoulder. Not bad from where he'd been standing...hell, he was lucky he'd hit him at all.

[ShadesofGrey]

Nghh!! He was shocked. Now there was more pain that made his stomach lurch, he felt hot and cold all at once this time though and a few of his muscles trembled. He was panting as he ran, that wasn't making anything any easier but he knew that he had to keep going. 'You won't.....No you can't let him down....Not this time...Not again so soon...He needs you.." The Spaniard thought to himself as he could catch the slight taste of iron in his mouth.

Things were starting to look more so down than anything. He started to make quick turns, using people as shields, there was no chance in hell that Red was going to let Paulie down, they needed each other to survive these days, or so he told himself. Pushing onward did he refuse to slow down, he reached into his inner pocket and brought out a very nice automatic hand gun and he pointed back firing twice with a grimaced painted so perfectly on his face. He had nothing to say to this guy, he wasn't fond of him at all and now he never would be.

[Khaki]

People shields? At the moment the red-haired man could care less, especially as he ran after him, shooting at him. He was a mafia member and White Spy. His aim was never off, not enough for it to matter that he was running between people. He merely fired and people scattered. Before long cops would come, but Francois didn't care. This guy was going down here and now. And he would be sure of it, stay until the man had drawn his last breath. Then what though? Go to White and explain how he'd killed another agent. Maybe he'd be fired, suspended, hell if he knew. At the moment there was only rage and murderous intent.

(Ug, short. x.x)

[ShadesofGrey]

Red dashed through trying to avoid letting the on coming bullets meet with his body, he ducted behind a few buildings and damn that was one big wall to scale but he was sure as hell not going to die here, he wasn't really afraid of doing so but he wasn't going to let himself be killed so easily, and at the hands of a White Nation, bah.

It huffed as his feet met the ground on the other side of that wall and his hands deemed themselves lucky to still have the short nails that he did. After picking up his equipment Red looked both ways before darting off again trying to make a better get away. If only he had been smart and rented a car.....Wait he's a freaking spy! He doesn't need to rent anything just borrow it.
(It's okay Logey, I'll let you get away with it since I took so long to reply ^^; )

[Khaki]

Francois sped up his pace, darting past people with speed only ascertainable by the slim, long-legged mafia (or spy) could ascertain. His eyes were narrowed in anger and pain. He had betrayed his famille by joining the White spies. He had committed crimes against them by killing their contacts...by harming the family...it would end now, starting with the bastard who had taken out his 'brother'. This Red agent bastard was going down, and hopefully in a dark room broken and defeated...yeah...he couldn't kill him then, if he planned on maiming the bastards very pride.

Rounding the corner he found himself looking down the street at red. With a feral growl he darted down after him, getting closer with every step. Closer...closer...aha! With a leap he tackled the man onto the pavement, putting his gun at the others neck. "If you want to keep breathing you will hold still monsieur. Or I will blow your brains out the back of your head." He threatened angrily. Had to retain himself...he didn't want to kill him...yet.

[ShadesofGrey]

Red frowned as he felt the first bit of the other man on himself. That wasn't a good sign, damn he should have ran faster. He had just though that he had been in the clear once he didn't see the other behind him for a moment or so. He was only being damn well foolish there. He hit the ground with an 'Uff!' as the two laid there.

Feeling the cold metal of the gun on the skin at his neck he froze for a moment then grinned. 'Don't be afraid you bastard.' He told himself mentally. "Yea, what, you think I'm really gonna let you kill me?" He asked in a low growl, he looked a bit deranged then again, he just did that sometimes. However it didn't seem like it would help him this time. He closed his mouth for the time being, he figured why not hear the demands first right?

[Khaki]

"I wasn't asking permission." Came the low growl, and he pushed his gun harder to make his point. "Whether you 'let me' or not, you, monsieur, are a dead man." He shifted, hands reaching into his own pockets to pull out handcuffs. Maybe all along he had never intended to kill his former brother. "Pour mon frère…je serai certain que vous souffriez." He snapped the handcuff onto the man's wrist, pulling it so tight that it dug into the other mans flesh. He trapped the other hand and brought it behind the others back, snapping the cuff over it as well. Now...just to knock the bastard out.

Licking his lips one hand went to the others throat, and pushed it against the ground, his other hand moving to strangle the other. Oh yes...this would be a painful and cruel way to do it...but not the least in what he would do to him. And at a metal workers shop...there was many many different forms of torture.