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Grime Stein

Interviews and Analysis of Recovery 013

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Grime Stein    42

*A tape recorder begins playing, recording the following interview*

*Some footsteps are heard, followed by the light scraping of metal against tile. Then the sound of a metal chair gaining weight is heard. Something is put on a table, that also sounded metallic. Some slight sound of papers being shifted, held, put down, and replaced are then heard, also some shifting in a seat, though it was from a different source, making two room have two occupants. Then a very childish groan is heard.*

"So..... are you just going to sit there and move papers, read said papers, and occasionally look at me?" asked a young male voice. It was American in nature. The voice was maybe 12 to 13 years old.*

*A cold chuckle is heard. This laugh is feminine and aged, maybe 30 to 40 years of age.*

"Yes, I suppose I could just sit here, shuffle papers, and look at you every now and then........ but I was not tasked to do so, or even want to do so. Does that satisfy you?" remarked the woman to the young boy's query. There is silence again, followed by more shifting more papers. Then the papers sound like they are being collected and compiled into a folder presumably. The folder is then folded shut softly, and some more shifting in a metal seat is heard, from the woman's location.*

"So, what is your name?"

"That question is rhetorical." said the boy, his tone is bored and slightly annoyed.*

"How so?"

"Again, rhetorical."

*The woman lets out a sigh as she hears this, then continues.*

"Okay then... Marschall... what do you think about your life right now?" asked the woman.*

*Silence continues to go along, the seat of the boy shifting lightly, back and forth, making it seems like he is kicking his legs in the air.*

"You know.... I cannot really help you if you don't help me Marschall."

"And what makes you think I want help. She! She wants me to get help like this, and that is why I am here."

"She has brought you here Marschall because she doesn't know what to do with you. Some would say you are insane, but I think you are just different."

*Silence ensues between the two, the woman seemed to be waiting while Marschall just seems annoyed.*

"You think I am different? How so?" asks Marschall, his tone now curious.*

"Because, you have no..... attachments to anyone and almost anything. You have no love for your family, not even your own mother, and you have no respect for anyone either. This is what most would look at as a problem, but I and those who I work for would look at this as a opportunity for both you and us."

*A long silence ensues between the two once more.*

"Who is us?"

"We..... we are a organization who look for certain people.... people like you."

"You mean people who are insane."

"No I mean people who can do something most would never even consider, and do it without a second thought. You are like that Marschall."

*All is quiet after that. Then a shifting in Marschall's seat is heard.*

"When do I begin?"

*The tape recorder ends*

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Grime Stein    42

File of Recovery #013

This file contains all of the analysis and tape recordings for Recovery Agent ********* *****

Password?.......

***********

....Access Granted....

File R#013 Analysis #1......

Date...12/25/2001

Begin.....

"The boy is..... quite odd really. He can understand things above his level of age, and do so quickly. He adapts unlike most of his project and some of the other projects. Really, his mind is similar to one of the Information project's Agents. But I digress. In the end, he will adapt to what is most suitable to him and his life, that means if he ever finds something better than us, we can all expect him to either escape, or kill us all in our sleep. That said, what we saw from his first mission and what we can expect from him are great, but the consequences are dangerous if he should find something more suitable. That is why we keep him busy, and are steadily getting him ready for the missions he is meant to do. The following includes all of his traits and mental status as of to date."

Name: Marschall Adler

Age: 13 when inducted, current 17

Project: Recovery

Agent: 013

Physical Traits:

Hair: Dark Brown

Eyes: Blue

Height: 5' 10"

Weight: 200 lb

Dominate hand: Ambidexerous

Distinctive marks: A long scar spanning from left temple to right cheek, it goes over the nose and across the right eye.

Mental Traits: He accepts missions without question, and completes them without hesitation, not even civilian casualties will stop him. His regard for life is strange, the only lives that matter to him, are his and his objectives. He seems to adapt well under pressure, and greatly when backed into a corner. His ways of probing are very frontal, but they are also effective at judging his targets. All in all, someone you wouldn't want curious of you.

Field Reports:

Case #2001-F1-WK1

Contract: Ger****

Objective: ***********

Assignment: Completed

Results: Objective retrieved, 5 Civilian Casualties, 3 Hostile Casualties

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Chief    597

Interesting story... I would like to see a journal about carthan (chief is interested in him, he is wierd) love your writing all around. Keep it up my friend!

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Grime Stein    42

File of Recovery #013

This file contains all of the analysis and tape recordings for Recovery Agent ********* *****

Password?.......

***********

....Access Granted....

File R#013 Analysis #2......

Date...7/7/2015

Begin.....

"Well, I haven't had to do this for Agent 013 for quite the while. Though, given the situation, and what has happened as well as what is at stake..... I am requested to do this. So far, he seems as loyal as he goes. But there is something that interested him in this particular assignment. His words, and I shall play this recording for the record,

"So, Information Agent Nyleea..... interesting."

"What do you find interesting Alder?"

"Well, her position, style, and all skills are similar to that of my own. Not to mention that she will be the most deadliest objective I have had to date.... well it is interesting."

"Really? Well there seems to be something you are leaving out Alder."

"Hmhmhmhm.... well that is the most interesting part of it all isn't it Doctor?"

"As you can see, this assignment interests him greatly, and I doubt it will be benefical for us. But.... with all the other agents either not qualified or successful.... she has forced our hand to send him in. This is what scares me though. Marschall Alder is a excellent agent..... but an even greater negotiator. He demanded everything they were willing to give him on her, and they gave him her files and analysis. Also some other things I am not prone to, but either way, he seems, content. It is like he knows something we don't, and that is not what I nor my superiors like about it."

Field Reports:

Case #2001-F1-WK1

Contract: Ger****

Objective: ***********

Assignment: Completed

Results: Objective retrieved, 5 Civilian Casualties, 3 Hostile Casualties

Case #2001-A1-WK3

Contract: Eng****

Objective: ******

Assignment: Completed

Results: Objective retrieved, 2 Civilian Casualties, 10 Hostile Casualties

Case #2001-D1-WK4

Contract: Ame****

Objective: **************

Assignment: Completed

Results: Objective retrieved, 20 Hostile Casualties

Case #2004-Mar1-WK1

Contract: Rus***

Objective: *******

Assignment: Completed

Results: Objective retrieved, 0 Casualties

Case #2004-Apr1-WK4

Contract: Rus***

Objective: ********

Assignment: Completed

Results: Objective retrieved, 4 Government Official Casualties, 3 Civilian Casualties, 6 Hostile Casualties

Case #2004-Jun1-WK3

Contract: Bra***

Objective: ********

Assignment: Completed

Results: Objective retrieved, 1 Civilian Casualty, 7 Hostile Casualties

Case #2005-Ma1-WK2

Contract: Can***

Objective: ****

Assignment: Completed

Results: Objective retrieved, 20 Civilian Casualties, 30 Hostile Casualties

Case #2009-F1-WK4

Contract: Aus******

Objective: ********

Assignment: Completed

Results: Objective retrieved, 1 Civilian Casualty, 1 Hostile Casualty

Case #2009-S1-WK1

Contract: Bel****

Objective: ********

Assignment: Completed

Results: Objective retrieved, 2 Hostile Casualties

Case #2009-O1-WK4

Contract: Mal*****

Objective: ********

Assignment: Completed

Results: Objective retrieved, 1 Hostile Casualty

Case #2015-JU1-WK1

Contract: Org*********

Objective: *********** ***** ******

Assignment: In progress

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Grime Stein    42

A lone man sits upon a mountain side, overlooking a valley below him. His blue eyes, calm and calculative, notice a deer that is grazing in the field. His face is devoid of emotion watching the animal, as it eats, ears twitching, and keeping it's eyes open for any predators. It then sated it's hunger a few moments later and sprung away from the small field. His eyes continue wandering, as he starts to recollect a moment long ago. It was a dark mission, many dead, and many more lives affected. Even to this day, he still didn't care. The organization hired him to take of it, even if 20 men had to die, and he did it. It was as the memory started from the beginning, did he smile, if only a little.

Fourteen years ago, in America, New York, the city of Manhattan.....

Adler sighed contently as he sipped on the coffee that was given to him by a rather beautiful waitress. The place he currently was in was a small café across from a rather renown Italian restaurant. Pushing up the glasses on his nose, his blue eyes wander to said location. Scoped it out, from the roof, the alleys, front door, side doors, and just about anywhere to get in. Scoffing slightly, he didn't understand that how such a place which housed the inner circle of a crime family, The Verraletti Mob, with minimal security. Then he shrugged, he supposed since it was late at night, almost closing time for them, that was to be expected. Especially since there was something else going down.

Sipping on the cup of coffee some more, he looked to his table. On it was a folded up newspaper from the evening. Putting the cup down on the table beside it, he picked up the paper and unfolded it. To anyone else, he looked like a man who was sitting in the back corner of the café reading the evening news. In all actuality, well, he was far more than that. On the side he was reading, was a file that was about the mission he was to complete this evening. It was a report of a contract from the other crime family in the area, The Volshnikov Brotherhood. The rivals of the Verraletti Mob, and had hired The Organization to look into their rival.

Noticing the payment received, he rose his eyebrow at the amount of cash involved in this contract. Continuing on, he read that the Volshnikov Brotherhood hired The Organization to find out if the Verraletti Mob might be wanting to sell them out to the FBI. Information Agent #1 was sent in to investigate, the FBI headquarters to be specific. She stirred up quite the attention, even the eye of the CIA on the matter. But they were clueless as to what Information Agent #1 wanted, as her target had died from severe torture. He stared at the pictures of her results for a few moments.

"Damn..." he muttered silently as he picked up his cup and sipped on the coffee once more. Putting it down again, he continued on, to find that she found out that they were planning on selling out the Volshnikov Brotherhood. The Brotherhood then hired The Organization once more to end this, by killing the inner circle, and the people who would show to the meeting point. Thus the reason he was sent here. Sighing slightly, he then looked out the window to across the street to the restaurant once more. Folding the paper back up and putting it in his brown trench coat, he picked up his cup once more and sipped on the last of the liquid. The waitress came back over, a small blush on her face as he had charmed her.

"Would you like some more sir?" she asked. Her tone was pretty and slightly shy. He smiled at her, causing her blush to increase.

"As much as I would like another from a wonderful young woman such as yourself Ms..... I am afraid I must be going." he said as he calmly stood, adjusting his coat. She didn't see the two hidden silenced M1911 pistols hanging inside their holsters. Nor did she notice the slight ridge line of bullet proof armor. In fact, he had two hidden knifes inside his socks, three magazines for each pistol, and brass knuckles stitched in underneath the black gloves he was wearing. He calmly pulled on his brown wide brimmed fedora, and paid the lady handsomely, a hundred dollars for a bill of three cups of coffee, which was maybe about twelve bucks.

"Keep the change."

Her eyes were wide as he walked off and into the night, to across the street. Standing before the entrance, he looked up the sky. It started to rain. He smiled at this.

"Good..... it will wash off the blood on my clothes." he thought to himself, raising his hand and pushing open the door to the restaurant. Walking in, he didn't pay attention to his surroundings, the ascetics and such. Nope, just the current occupants of the room.

"Seven men. Three at a table, all facing away from me. Two behind the bar, most likely have automatics. Need them dead first. One more in the kitchen..... that will be troublesome. Last one is the waiter. He will be dead before he even knows it." he thought to himself. As he thought all of this, it was only a period of two seconds. One of the men at the table, turned to glance at him, and disregarded him. The waiter walked up to him, his smile slightly strained. A bad day for him.... and it was about to get worse.

"I am sorry sir... but we are closing for the night."

"Ah, well then I shall be leaving...." As Adler said this, making a slight motion to turn back to the door, making the waiter start to turn around. He then raised his fist, used his motion to build up force, and struck. The brass knuckles inside his gloves instantly crushing the waiter's windpipe, killing him effectively. As the man fell to the floor, and the rest of the room unaware, he pulled both sides of his cloak back, showing the pistols. Pulling out each in two seconds, he leveled them, aimed..... and pulled the trigger. The three men at the table were dead in seconds. The bartenders were just starting to pull out their weapons, Thompson submachine guns. He leveled his other M1911 at the bartenders, and killed them. The was still no major sound of gunfire due to his silencers. Only the thump of dead bodies. Sighing as he started to walk to the kitchen. He glanced at the bartenders, and saw one was barely alive. Shooting him in the head once, shaking his head at the choice of weapon, he moved into the kitchen.

Seeing the cook was still unaware, he walked up to the man and put the barrel to the back of his head.

"Where is the boss?"

The cook's eyes widened as he started to shake with fear.

"U-upstairs..." Was all the man could say before Adler put the glove in front of his own face, pulling the trigger. The blood didn't get on his face as the cook fell down dead. Continuing, Adler traveled to the back and up the stairs. He kicked in a door, killing the Verraletti Mob Boss's two men and pointed at him.

"Ah ah ah......wouldn't do that now Mr." chided Adler as he saw the man try to reach for a revolver. The man stopped, and slowly put his hands in the air.

"What do you want? What are they paying you? I'll double."

"I am sorry Mr. but you couldn't even if you wanted too. Now...." Adler walked up and sat down in a seat, one of his pistols holstered again, with the other pointing at the man. "Where is the meeting? And how many are there?"

"Six of my men, and four of theirs. The local docks, warehouse seven. Now, let me go and we can forg...." The man couldn't finish as Adler shot him in the head. The next few minutes were Adler searching around the office area, finding everything useful for his employers, then walking out, after picking up all his shell casings and anything else that could be incriminating to him or his employer. The drive to the docks was short and he was there in no time. Getting out and opening the trunk, he pulled out a M4 Carbine. Getting what else he needed, he calmly put a silencer in one of his pockets and started to climb the guardrails that would be above the floor of the warehouse. Walking into the building, screwing the silencer on the M4, and walking to above the group of ten men, he cracked his neck and rolled shoulders.

Looking down, he analyzed how many shots each would need, who had the most deadliest weapons, and who had any physical evidence. Finding what he needed, he pointed down, and breathed deeply. Breathing out, he pulled the trigger. All of them dropped in eight seconds. Sighing sadly, he walked down the stairs to the bottom floor. Killing a few who were barely alive, he then picked up the briefcase and all of his casings. Again, making sure there was no way to trace this back to him or his employers. Driving to the location, he climbed out with the brief case and walked down the alleyway.

He saw a Russian man step out from the shadows. His eyes were wary and yet curious. There was obviously a pistol on him, but Adler didn't care. Marschall calmly held out the brief case for the man, and was grabbed from him by said man, a Ivan Malkovka if he remembered right.

"There, enjoy your evening Mr. Malkovka." said Adler calmly as he turned around, not seeing the shocked man's face, and back to his car.

Back to the present....

Adler sighed coming out from his walk through memory lane.

"Ah, the old days.... I miss them." he said out loud to himself with a sad sigh and then stood. Time to get going, as he didn't know if Nyleea had found his scent yet. He had to get into the lead and stay there if he wanted even a chance at survival.

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