Trot walked down the hallway to meet with… Constance… he was, quite frankly, frightened. He took a seat in the meeting room that Guantanamo had set up for this recent meeting. Although not completely okay with letting them have her back, they'd had enough of her psychopathic bull s—t, and were glad to relieve themselves of her for them.

Constance wore chains linking pretty much all her limbs together making it rather hard for her to walk. But given how many guards they'd lost because of her, they weren't going to let her walk anywhere without maximum security chains. Four guards had hold of the chains, one for every limb. She also wore a muzzle since she was prone to biting as well. The guards of Guantanamo had set up a party after the release to mark this glorious day!

Constance Kale was 5'4, 135 pounds, with slightly curly red hair; at this moment she wore a standard procedure brown jumpsuit and white Nike's. Her hair, albeit curly, was quite long reaching nearly down to her butt. Her eyes were a very deep and dark green, their ability to pierce even the hardest men's shields with ease. She was sat down across from Trottier who just looked into her piercing eyes, just wondering how someone so beautiful could be so terribly evil. He had never seen her before but he was all too aware of her reputation and name. "Constance, I'm Agent Joshua Trottier; I've been asked by the President of the United States to hire you for a very important job." The guard who was in charge of her right arm took out his keys and stuck it in the lock of the muzzle; he did this so she could answer.

She shook her head from side to side making her hair whip with it. "A job huh?" He nodded, "What kind of job?"

"Uh, gentleman could you please give us a moment?" The guards shook their head, "Look this is strictly confidential United States government business, now as an agent of that government I demand that you relinquish her into my hands right now. Now you want to do that don't you? Or would you rather deal with the United States government?" They sighed and systematically unlocked all her chains and retreated from the room in case she blew up.

"Thanks, uhm, Tramp was it?"

"Trottier; but most just call me Trot." She nodded. "We are hoping that you will use your special set of skills to alleviate a certain item from a certain somebody." She artfully produced a cigarette from her left chest pocket and put it gently in her mouth. She quickly realized she didn't have a lighter and threw her gorgeous eyes at Trot and he just as quickly produced a lighter. "Thanks Tramp."

"Uh, Trot. So, what do you say? Will you do it?"

"What and who?" He turned his head and scratched a place he'd been meaning to much earlier, "You don't mince words do you? What we need for you to obtain is the Xenochrist, from—." Her face went white then pure red; she knew him, all too well. "—but how? Isn't he dead?" She hesitated and took a huge drag of her cigarette in an attempt to calm down. "No. He faked his own death and ran away with X, we don't know why just yet and in fact that's where you come in." Another long drag of the cig. "Après moi, le dèluge." Trot looked at her strangely, was that French he wondered. "Are you absolutely sure he's the one?"

"Yes; he has to be his final mission was in the vicinity of the X and after that he disappeared, so it is him."

"Well I sure as hell hope so because we're not dealing with just any normal person here; he's more dangerous than I am." Trot wanted to query on what she had said but feared it best not to. "I'll do it but it's gonna cost ya." She took the last of her cigarette out and pressed the burning embers onto her tongue, to put it out, then flicked it in the direction of a small gray trash bin. Through one of the many small holes the cigarette made its way in. Trot sighed, "We're preparing to offer you any amount you can possibly fathom."

"Three billion dollars in unmarked bills." Trot got up and pounded upon the door, "One moment I must discuss something with the boss firstly." They opened the door and were surprised to see Trot in one piece after being in there with her for so long. As soon as the door was shut again, the cool drained entirely from her being. She reverted to her little girl counterpart and felt like she were reliving a moment when she was young in which she was afraid a monster lived under her bed. Noah was her monster. She envisioned his face and remembered the things she saw one fateful day many years ago when she was a young assassin.

In her mind she saw the massive bloodshed, little kids screaming and running around trying to find their parents and the flying bullets that were coming from his mini gun. Bodies lay dead on the ground, riddled with holes and bleeding from every single one; she herself was hiding in the midst of the tower that the Cartel owned. The only living person, aside from Emilio, was Constance. She held her knees into her chest and she cried, real tears. She hadn't done that in more years than anybody knew. She swore to get revenge for that… that massacre. But now that she could… would she? Could she kill him? She didn't know, she would just have to try.

Her bravery rose up when she saw the little kids dying; "I'll kill this bastard I swear to God, they will be avenged."

Trot walked back in, "Done. You'll get your money on completion of task and the return of the item. Are we clear? If you run you will be apprehended again and put back in here, understand?"

She nodded, "I won't run… not this time." Trot stuck out his hand and, graciously, she grabbed it and the two left. All the while she thought about striking the life out of him but was abound in mystery as to what the hell the Xenochrist was. She would just have to wait until she had gotten it and she would get it… no matter what. "You will die Noah Addy, I will kill you."