|The Final Curtain
Author: tlrtd89 PM
47 is sent to NYC to assasinate an official of the US Treasury with a sinister plan to devastate the western world. The time limit on this contract...2 hours, at a production of the Scottish play, 'Macbeth'...Rated: Fiction T - English - Chapters: 2 - Words: 4,073 - Reviews: 9 - Favs: 1 - Follows: 1 - Updated: 03-29-05 - Published: 03-04-05 - id: 2291153
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The Final Curtain
Disclaimer: I don't own Hitman or Agent 47, which is a shame. He's only a piece of imagination, product of IO interactive and Eidos interactive. Lucky them.
Author Note In certain parts of this fic, this symbol: # will be placed next certain words. An explanation of said word be placed at the bottom of the chapter
I would like to thank my brother, author Rhys Davies for beta-reading. If you're into Gundam Wing, Transformers or Teen Titans try his work, IT'S ALL GOOD!Chapter 1: Briefing
Night-time in New York doesn't mean that the big apple sleeps. All of its varied types of nightlife actually reawaken and refresh Manhattan Island from the stress of day-to-day work.
The movies attracting all the people to see the new blockbusters from Hollywood, Bollywood and Pinewood, Broadway drawing hundreds of people to pleasure themselves with the latest musicals and plays. Rap battles pulling the fans to see their favourite small time or chart buster run away with imagination and music. The Subway would get a new coat of graffiti from an army of teens.
So New York was naturally busy. And the touring Royal Shakespeare Company was taking its toll on traffic in Times Square. Over a Thousand people were heading to see the latest production of Macbeth.
In the crowd of joyous theatregoers, queuing outside the George Washington Dramatics Theatre, one man waited and watched.
The said man was sitting outside a small restaurant, his sharp blue eyes poking just above his menu, watching the queue for Macbeth slowly progress, occasionally flicking his eyes towards the crowd and matching it with a photo pinned under his empty plate. The photo was a white man in his early 50's. He had greying brown hair, along with a full beard, also greying.
A lax and somewhat board waiter drew up to the table.
'Are you ready to order, sir?'
The man pulled down his menu. It was agent 47.
'Yes I am thank you. I'll have the pork sirloin steak, done medium and a green salad. To drink, some Mineral water please.'
'Excellent choice, sir. That comes up to 19.98. The service is pay as you go sir. Cash or credit card?
47 rummaged around in his pocket, pulling out a ten-dollar note. He dug deeper, pulling out two quarters. 47 looked surprised, empty pocket.
'Damn' He muttered 'Don't have enough loose change.'
47 took the briefcase he had by his side and opened it. The sight that the student waiter saw was dazzling, and a whole new edge to his dull Friday job.
Inside the suit was 47's briefing, and beneath that laid several thousand dollars. All wrapped in 10-dollar note bundles. 47 broke one pack and took out 2 ten-dollar notes and handed them to the waiter. He paused for a moment and took out another note.
'Here's a tip.'
The waiter looked awed at the case of money, dreaming of brisk breeze to whip up and send the money flying into his arms. 47 gave a brief cough. The waiter came out of his trance
'Thank you sir'.
The waiter promptly left 47 to himself.
'This night better go well' 47 thought. 'Or that kid's tip would be useless.'
Taking a look around, he took his briefing to read though again for a third time in the hour.
Re: Anderson hit
You're needed in New York for this one 47. We have been contracted by a high figure in the United States mint. It appears that a Peter Anderson, a senor member of the Philadelphia processing plant is planning to place ten billion US dollars on the market. With so many surplus notes, the value of the dollar will drop to a dangerous low and affect other national currencies. This would result in hyperinflation and a world depression that can surpass 1929.
Upon researching Anderson, it turns out that he is a high member of an unknown organisation and is under near constant guard. A few months ago he sparked the NSA's interest when he was spotted at a meeting of Neo-Nazis. We have supplied to you a summarised background of Anderson, which we hacked from a recently reopened NSA/CIA joint file, dormant since the mid 1970's. It seems that his father was Herman Von-Braun, a true Nazi and member of the SS (Hitler's elite soldiers). He was posted to a Polish death camp in spring 1944. When the Soviets advanced towards the camp in late 44', he left the camp along with some Jewish prisoners for Germany. When the war ended in 1945, he was captured by US marines and was prepared for trail at Nuremberg for Nazi war crimes. He and several other prisoners escaped from Landsberg Fortress# and left Europe on the Aquitania#, posing as immigrants. Von-Braun renamed himself Paul Anderson and settled down on the East Coast with a fellow Nazi escapee, Beth Kerry and set up as an accountant. In December 1946, Beth gave birth to Peter Herman Anderson. It seems that his parents raised their son as a Nazi. Paul Anderson was secretly executed in 1961 when he tried to assassinate President Eisenhower, posing as a Soviet spy he hoped to trigger a war. Beth and Peter were monitored closely until 1977, when Beth died of breast cancer. The NSA closed the Anderson file, concluding that Peter was no Nazi, as he held a position in the US mint and had good connections with the Secretary of the Treasury.
With the file reopened, CIA Director James Greer has made it clear that Anderson must not be pulled in, as he his now a close friend of the Secretary of the Treasury.
After pulling in some favousr that we're owed, we have found he that he placing his forged notes on the streets tomorrow, so the hit must take place now. To celebrate he's attending the opening night of the RSC's play Macbeth at the George Washington Dramatics Theatre in Broadway, New York. We have an informant at the theatre, just ask for a reserved ticket under the name John Vattic. You'll be seated next our informant. His code name is Victor Grienko.
It is of most importance that you assassinate Anderson; otherwise your advance payment would buy you near nothing.
Good Luck 47.
47 thought for a moment.
'Another target with plans to affect the western world, a classic. And it's all up to Mr. Grienko and me to stop them. First, we have the Fuchs crime family with WMDs, now Neo-Nazis with finance.'
Time passed. 47 watched the queue move slowly.
47's food came unnaturally quick. Obviously, the tale of the vast briefcase of money had spread to the kitchen, with 47's meal given top priority in hope of more tips…just as he planned.
For the first time in a long while, 47 was enjoying something else while out on a contract. Usually, he would get in, silence the target(s) and get out. But what better way to pass time than a good meal. He felt at ease with himself. Being a well-known and respected underground assassin was not so easy with guards continually unloading firearms on you. Having the lives of a whole city resting on your shoulders. Such a relaxing meal was liberating for 47.
By the time 47 finished his meal, the queue for Macbeth had grown short.
'It's ok' 47 said under his breath 'He hasn't arrived yet. He's not going to say in the open too long for assassins. Either that or I've missed him while eating.'
Just as 47 said this, a black Volkswagen pulled up to the entrance. The sound of the engine being turned off caught 47 ears. As he looked up, the front and back driver-side doors opened, and three giants of men emerged. All were wearing formal suits with, 47 noted, slight bulges on the shoulders. Holsters. The last occupant to leave out of the rear driver side looked back in the car and spoke to a figure within. The final person got out of the car. 47 gave a satisfied smile. It was Anderson. His target.
Anderson looked around, slightly nervous about being in the open so close to the implementation of his plan, it could still go wrong were he to die or be arrested on this night. In the morning, he would sign the forms to place his ten billion dollars on the market, and throw the whole world money system into chaos. Feeling the need to check for any spying government agent, his small sky-blue eyes darted around the street. At the restaurant across the way, there was no-one watching him, just a bald man wearing a suit walking away with a suitcase. Feeling satisfied with the area, he turned towards the main entrance with two of his guards. The third got back in the car and drove away down the street.
47 had nearly given the game away. He nearly let Anderson see him. 'Stupid!' he thought. 'Got too relaxed'
47 saw Anderson's car pass him. He watched the German car turn down an alley which lead to the theatre's stage entrance. 47 himself turned down another alley to his rented Ford Ka. Pressing the unlock button, the Ka greeted him with a pleasant bleep and flash of lights. Opening the boot, 47 placed his case of money inside, before taking a whole wad of money. He looked over his shoulder quickly to see if there was anyone watching him. He opened up the other case in the boot. Inside was one of his 45mm Sliverballer pistols, with the silencer placed alongside. Smirking at the sight of his trademark gun, 47 closed the case. With his weapon of choice now beside him, he was a complete killer again. He closed the Ka's boot and started heading back towards the theatre.
'Time to do what I'm paid for.'
End of Chapter 1
Landsberg Fortress: Landsberg Fortress is located outside Munich, Southern Germany. This is where Adolph Hitler and other leading Nazis were imprisoned after a attempted Coup against the German Government in 1923. During that time, he wrote his autobiography, Mein Kampf (My Struggle). He was released after 9 months in Landsberg. Within 11 years, he was the Fuhrer of Germany, with COMPLETE power.
Aquitania: The Aquitania was one of the symbolic ships of British Maritime Supremacy. Unlike the Titanic, which had a life span of 4 years from construction to Winslet & DiCaprio, Aquitania spent 37 years crossing the Atlantic. Towards the end of her life she was used as a WW2 troop transport, a immigrant ship and a War Bride transport. Her scrapping in 1950 saw the end of the glory days of Edwardian British shipping, as she was one of the last of her kind.