[fontsize][b]Chapter 1: Violent Ceasefire[/b][/fontsize]

[i]Confinement Facility, South America[/i]

Muña plants marked the landscape where a dirt road or swamp did not. A small wall of concrete went around the encampment, a precaution against intruding rebels.

For the most part, the facility being used by the Pieuvre Armement private military company was without any real incident. Sure, the rebellion against the new regime was active elsewhere, but the five prisoners here were no problem. One of the olive-and-green-clothed mercenaries, emotionless due to the System, walked into the small one-room building where they were keeping the jungle-camo, red-hat wearing rebels, and took out out, grabbing him by the back of the arm and yanking him up.

"Move."

Grumbling, the other man walked out the door, unarmed and unarmored, an FN SCAR-H Mk. 17 assault rifle shoved into his back the whole way with just one of the French mercenary's arms holding it, his own body having tactical armor on the chest. Out toward the outer wall. It was time to make sure the rebels outside, whoever there was, had a lesson about what would happen while "Octopus Armaments" was in charge of fighting them.

"Your knees." A leg kicked out, the gripping hand forcing the man to his knees outside as he placed his hands on the back of his head, fingers interlocked, mumbling a prayer. He did not want to die, no matter how he acted...

Click. "Drop it."

In surprise, not fear, the man dropped his rifle, hands the air. On his right, holding a strange, black, suppressed handgun to his head, was what, by the voice, he could tell was a woman in black armor, the helmet obscured. "M-My t--"

"Start walking, pick him up, and move around the side of the wall." She was not lowering the gun, finger tensing on the trigger.

He did so. Although the SOP system did suppress his emotional reactions, some did sometimes leak through, and he continued to walk, bringing the surprised, confused rebel with him.

"How many?"

"We have n--" A whip of the pistol cracked against his hat, making him stagger a bit.

"I asked him, not you, sociopath."

The rebel spoke then. "Five, four not including this one," he admitted. "And five of mine within. Who are--?"

"Call me the Huntress," she said, continuing to walk behind the mercenary. "Mentor, you can come out now. Do what you will with this one I have, but leave the other. I know you heard all of that."

As if on cue, a man in dark blue robes and a hood that cast a shadow over his aged face emerged from a large patch of shrubbery. He walked towards the three without a word, and upon reaching them, he nodded to the Huntress. "Of course," he then faced the olive-hatted man, who was still silent as per the Huntress' order. Then, moving faster than his age would entail, he drew a small dagger from under his wrist and stabbed into the soldier's neck. Lowering the soldier to the ground as he struggled weakly, the man moved his palm over the eyes of the target, just above his balaclava.

"Requiescat in pace." Said the Mentor, otherwise known as Ezio Auditore. Standing, he wiped his blade off on a nearby leaf before letting it recede back into it's bracer. "I know you cannot kill a human being, and I respect your oath. But I will ask you not to hesitate if the situation demands you to kill, I trust you understand," Ezio then glanced at the rebel, whose mouth was agape at the individual before him, "What is our next course of action, grandmaster?" Ezio said with the slightest trace of a smile.

The "Huntress," Azumi Ian, frowned behind her face mask, looking to the rebel as the mercenary fell at her feet, bleeding out quickly. "It would be great if you could not tell people about that," she said coldly, looking to the other man with them. "How are they armed?"

"U-um..."

She sighed, turning the gun so he could see the top, the back. "Safety's on. Nice to know I can scare a guy enough, though." The young woman motioned with the gun toward the rifle nearby. "Go get that and come back. Then tell us what they've got."

He did so, and she leaned against the outer wall, making sure that they weren't followed. It was easy enough, and they didn't seem to even notice. Another problem of the System, the thing that kept the post-traumatic stress down. The rebel seemed to relax a bit as he came back, free.

"Two MP7s, another of these," he held up the gun, "and an M14 Enhanced Battle Rifle. The last is toward the back, good aim, need to try to distract him before you go in." He held up a sidearm, also taken from the soldier, this time just off of his corpse. "GSR handgun on all of them, just in case. Try to disarm them if you can, just in case. And... quiet, alright? Don't want to hurt my friends in there."

She nodded, patting his side. "You did good. Now go, run. This might get messy, and we need to know you won't be held responsible."

There was a short nod, and he ran off, off to find any allies, moving through the brush, around rocks and the like, and away.

She nodded slightly, flat against the building...and turned, kicking her way up with her training from the city of Callaghan, grabbing the top of the wall, and pulling herself up. Looked as he said, with one MP7 and the battle rifle on the left, and the other MP7 and the Mk. 17 on the right. Entrance to the building in the center, with the remaining Mk. 17 pacing in front of the entrance to said building.

She dropped down again, in a slight crouch, before looking to Ezio, telling the situation on the different types of guns, the long range, the high fire rates...

"Try to take them out quietly as you can. Left or right? We'll need to move at the same time."

Ezio, following close behind, nodded as he crouched beside Azumi. "Stealth will not be a problem. Guns.... I prefer swords, and I will have no issue with theirs. I shall go left, whenever you are ready, Azumi." Said Ezio, who began to think about his choice of weapons. The crossbow was an obvious choice, silent and powerful. His Ottoman dagger, for close quarters if he were to be discovered. Hidden blades, those were an obvious choice for any situation. Finally, throwing knives, for if the crossbow is too slow. He was ready for anything, and in this high tech future, he couldn't be anything less.

She nodded, flattening her back against the wall, sidling along, and looked around the corner briefly. Wait for it, wait.... She waved Ezio over, motioned to herself, then to the right, to him, then to the left. Easier to figure out. He could take out the distance target better than she could.

Quickly, she turned, going around the cover, sprinting to the nearby ammo box and ducking low, waiting, silent. She looked over again. Nobody'd seen her. Quickly, she scanned the area... okay, the MP7 guy she had was coming closer, mumbling to himself about "the octopus" and "GEKKOs." Nothing that was her particular problem, but she waited, looking as he peered back into the tent, waited for the one with the SCAR-H to turn his head a bit...

She moved. Before he could react, she stood, wrapping a hand around his neck, then an arm completely to the elbow, and forced him down. a hand chopped down on his neck, shocking him, and she kneed him up in the back of the head as a last move, knocking him unconscious. Quickly, she pulled him over, forcing him into a position prone behind the box so as to keep him out of sight. One down, no issues.

Look over. Okay, the guy seemed to see something was up.

The mercenary came over, gun in hand, looking over the cover... and saw the body, but nobody else. Noth--

A hand grabbed him around the waist took his sidearm out and discarded it quickly before the other hand, holding a black, suppressed handgun, came around the side, pointing at his chin before he could get a good look at it.

"Not. A sound."

He seemed to agree to this notion, even as he was walked around the side, out the door....and bashed against the outer wall by the side of his head, some blood spilling in the process. Mission accomplished on her side.

Meanwhile, Ezio was running silently along the left path, his body crouched as he kept his eyes trained on the watchtower where the lone sniper stood, watching the area. Taking a deep breath, Ezio took a moment to tune into his eagle vision. As he examined the area around him, he found no traces of a patrol route along the area, no witnesses.

Drawing his crossbow, Ezio spent several moments adjusting his aim towards the sniper. Finally feeling confidant, he pulled the trigger, and the bolt was ejected soundlessly from his weapon. The Master Assassin smirked as he saw bolt hit the man clean through the side of his head, and he dropped from the tower, landing with a soft thud on the ground below.

After hiding the body behind a stack of crates, Ezio kept along his path until he saw a small building guarded by a lone mercenary. Keeping low behind a row of crates, Ezio scanned the area for Azumi. Sure enough, Eagle Sense revealed her glowing silhouette crouched behind a nearby crate. Ezio then saw a mercenary walking near her position.

I think I can steal this one...

Ezio drew a small knife from his bracer sheath, and with a nimble flick of the wrist, the knife sailed through the air and struck the mercenary in the back of the throat, and he fell to the ground soundlessly.

Azumi could hear the two "thuds" of dropping bodies behind her as Ezio did his job, and turned around, still holding her gun. She held it out, ready to hold someone up, looking left and right, putting her back up against a wall... and sighed with relief. Nobody here.

The woman put her gun back in her holster, turning around to see four more people sitting, kneeling, in the small cabin of sorts. They looked, surprised by the silence and all, and she spoke to them. "Come on." She waved for them to come through. "Get up, and get out. We took the guards, so you're fine." To surprised faces, she sighed, pointing around. "Go and get the guns before they wake up. The few alive, that is."

No more need for encouragement. They stood, running out, grabbing up the weapons of their captors as with the first and running out of the area. That made.....three encampments taken out, this one being the only real major one.

Azumi looked around, trying to find anything she could inside. "So, Ezio," she said. "I don't really know much about you. You did tell me to be more interested in histories. And anything about me you want to know?" A pause. "I'm not telling everything, mind you."

Ezio blinked, "I suppose you've earned some bits of information. I was born in Florence, and I spent my days honing my talents for acrobatics with my brother Federico, who died along with my father, Giovanni, and my youngest brother, Petruccio. They were the pawns of a conspiracy, and the Templars sought to remove them. I very nearly shared the same fate, though through luck I survived. I swore vengeance, swore to end every man who was involved, " a pause, then a sigh, "I was young then, I had not yet learned the futility of such revenges."

Ezio sighed once more, "Tell my anything about yourself, I have no preference." He said, merely watching Azumi search the area.

The young woman looked down, sighing. "I..." She didn't know what to say. He had put a lot of information on her, even if she didn't know what the Knights Templar had to do with this. "Sorry, I didn't know." She sighed, checking her radar of the area in the darkness, her HUD usable. Never hurt to be safe. "I can't tell you about my home life. I know you told me a lot but... it's a little too personal for me. I hope you understand." Finally, she looked to him. "I'm a special operations soldier. I don't remember what year you come from, but I'm from the mid twenty-sixth century in the military calendar's terms, which I think align to yours. My work..." She was silent for a moment. "Aside from my other, more constant mentor -- no, I don't think I should give you a name yet, even if you know my MO -- I still follow the Marines. Drop into sites from orbit around the planets, Take out the more dangerous places with a team of about five, six usually at most, alone in the worst cases." She looked to her handgun again, taking out the magazine and checking it out of habit before putting it away. "Nasty operations. Black ops, site clearance, interrogation. I do things that even Naval Intelligence hates, but it comes with having a crazy CO like I did."

She depolarized her visor then, wanting him to see her face, to see that she wasn't completely emotionless. "I wouldn't listen to what people tell about the coolness of being a soldier or the like. It hurts. The nightmares, the pain of knowing that every time you fail, thousands, millions could be in trouble in the worst cases. Being shot and killed, and nobody would remember or care in a week or so due to the nature of the ops." She normally wouldn't say this, but he, of all people, probably understood, as did Bruce. "Do they understand the sheer amount of pressure we go through? Shot at, shot directly. Seeing people die, their intestines melted before us, puking their innards out half-molten. Shooting dead the people who we trusted because of a virus that is beyond their control." She took a breath. "To be honest, I don't even know what the point is, Ezio. War never changes, so how can people expect me to change?" She then became a little angrier. "How can you expect me to try to get to know an entire group I work with if any day, any minute, one of them can just drop dead, necessitate a funeral, be interrogated, and tortured beyond their control? When the battles don't change, the brutality doesn't, I can't really be expected to come out daisies, can I? Can you? Can any of those people who volunteered to join?"

She stepped back, realizing what she was doing...and slumped down against the wall, head down, taking off her helmet momentarily. She was on the verge of a break again. The memory of Hammond, of someone who was her responsibility, dead. His corpse still not found for burial. She hated the guy, but she still felt responsible, guilty. "... Everyone depends on a soldier, on someone who can see a command structure and work with it, can keep order. But they don't listen. None of them do. And then they go off and die and I have to deal with the failure. Or they go psychotic, or turn to love of violence, and I have to take them in and teach them a lesson, one they won't actually take into account and will continue to think I'm some 'cool sergeant' or 'uptight b****'. Or both. I try to help keep order so people don't die and so that we aren't all treated like villains, so we can get the actual villains brought down to justice. But... how can anyone keep doing this, Auditore? When it's pointless, when it never ends and nobody will understand what we go through on a daily basis?"

Ezio stared at Azumi and listened silently as she spoke, as she spilled out her thoughts to a person he assumed she did not necessarily trust fully. Once she had finished with her question, Ezio continued to remain silent before drawing back his hood and sitting down beside Azumi. His expression remained as emotionless as ever, though as he spoke, his tone was soothingly quiet, "I am aware of the toll war takes upon those who fight in them. The threat of seeing everyone and everything you love destroyed. I have questioned my role in these struggles every day of my life, and today still. Is it truly worth it? Do I think it is worth fighting an everlasting battle against forces that will never admit defeat?" Ezio looked away for a moment, thinking upon his own question, "...Yes, for though our deeds are unlikely to ever be known. We ensure that the future remains free, and the people we defend remain safe."

Ezio stood and walked in front of Azumi, "...I understand that you have not come out unscathed fighting, none of us have. And Azumi, I see now that you are a leader because of your ability to change, to care for those you command. I know that you feel responsible for everyone in this sect, but you cannot claim fault for every death." Ezio looked back at Azumi, "I have lost recruits, more than I want to speak about, and I remember every name. Every. Single. Name. And while I have been responsible for some, I know that some have died due from events that were out of my control. I have mourned many deaths, but I know that by resigning to defeat, their sacrifice would have been in vain." Ezio felt himself frown as he said this, and the memories of his lost assassins returned. Though he merely closed his eyes for a moment, breathing slowly before opening them again.

Ezio extended a hand, "It is hard, I know. I have dedicated my life to this war, and we have all sacrificed much. But we can only hope to persevere, to look forward to a better tomorrow for everyone." Ezio said, he truly had no idea if his words meant anything to the woman before him, but he knew that to say nothing would be worse. His words of reassurance felt strange, for he thought the same when he had to reassure himself.

Azumi took it in stride, just looking at her helmet. As he spoke, she turned it in her hands, the reflective surface showing her face to her in a shadowed light. Finally, he stopped, and she nodded slightly. "I... I don't know if I should be telling you this. It's just been bottled up for weeks, months, you know? I... I'll try to find my mentor, see what I can do." A deep breath, and her tough façade, her military persona, took over again, her face hardening to show it. "I'd rather this stay between you and me, if you don't mind. I--"

She could hear it, a car driving, skidding...and stopping. It sounded like a truck or something. "We got company," she said, putting back on her helmet and standing, backing up against the wall again, handgun back in hand. Silence again.

"...can you check around? Any powers on your end, or you just normal, like me?"

Ezio similarily heard the sound of an approaching car. As Azumi spoke, Ezio nodded. "You could say that." He said, before tuning in to Eagle Sense. As he did so, he saw the blue silhouettes, one the shape of a man, and the other a small creature.

"They are non-hostile." Said Ezio, though he checked his weapons, friends could turn at any moment.

The soldier nodded slowly, keeping her weapon out, and did a very quick VISR scan of the area from the darkness. Okay....nothing. No technological invisibility, so she turned it off. She turned, flattening her back on the outer wall now, and sidled along...and turned, aiming the gun around the corner.

"Whoa, whoa! Hang on, there. Watch where you're pointing that thing." A small, white handkerchief was waved around the side of a beaten up, dirty Stryker APC, one with an insignia she didn't care to look at. She continued to aim, to point the gun at the dark-skinned hand...and the dirty and grime seemed to spontaneously disappear from the vehicle. It was black, with those words on its side.

[center][fontsize][b]DREBIN
EYE HAVE YOU[/b][/fontsize][/center]


She kept her weapon trained as he came around. Dark skin, probably from Africa somewhere. Light hair, a blonde. dark rimmed glasses. A purple tie and undershirt with a brown blazer. Desert camouflage pants over black combat boots. His hands were up, but he didn't look concerned. Perhaps he saw the safety?

"You two started a lot of fires, you know. Didn't take much to get me interested, but there you have it."

She frowned, keeping the gun up, finger moving to the safety. "Who are you? Why are you following us?"

"Call me Drebin, or Drebin number 893," he said, as a small, gray, hairless, black eyed monkey with....white underpants? ...right. A monkey with pants on ran out on arms and legs, screeching a bit before stopping next to him. "And this is Little Gray." He motioned inside, to the down ramp leading into the sizable interior. "C'mon, go in." Little Gray went, and he looked to them. "Well?"

"You didn't answer my other questions."

"Neither an enemy, nor friend." So...keep him close, or closer?

"Not with that PMC, not with the rebels..."

"You're not from here yourselves, are you?" he asked.

Azumi frowned more, though her helmet was still dark. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, you know what I mean." He took the handkerchief, held it over his open hand....and flicked it. A small handheld radio was in it now, short-wave. "Voila."

The soldier was unamused. "What do you do, what do you want, and what do you mean?"

Drebin grinned, flicking the handkerchief in front of his hand again. What was left was an orange. "Want?" As Azumi's expression did not change, nor did her posture, he spoke. "Interferences, of course. You're not the first to have come here. Oh, there have been so many. Including one we thought dead, of all people." To the tensed posture even further, he continued. "I'm a weapons wholesaler. All shapes, all sizes. No need to worry about a trace, since all my sh**'s been laundered. You gonna hop in? It's getting rough out there. Then again, I assume you probably knew that."

A frown. So he just was interested because they were fighting...without many deaths? And he knew about Interferences.... Normally, she wouldn't have delved into illegal activity like this, but... maybe it was best to use it here, at least to help her a bit and get some information. She could always pass on buying.

She looked over to Ezio. "...what do you think?"

"I think that he knows too much for us to not be wary. Though we have a minimum of allies, he could be useful for the time being." Said Ezio, who had remained silent during Azumi and Drebin's conversation. He did take note of the man's seemingly light hearted nature. Those who seemed casually indifferent to a war around them could always be counted on to be unpredictable.

The soldier nodded. "...fine, let's go in, then. But if you pull a gun on us, we're talking you down too."

"Fair's fair," he said, stepping inside.

She stepped around the back, looking in. The inside of the vehicle was a cluttered mess. A row of seats lined each wall for a few feet, and were then replaced by shelves stocked with various items until the cockpit. On the right, photographs lined the walls above the seats, to the left of which was a "NARC Cola" vending machine, incredibly out of place in the military vehicle. Closer to the front, screens hung from the walls, displaying all kinds of data, presumable on their enemies.

Ezio did not bother to examine the vontents of the APC extensively, seeing as how he knew he would not understand any of them. Taking a seat, he glanced at Azumi momentarily as she stepped inside the APC and sat down a few seats from Ezio's left.

The master assassin leaned back in his seat, "What is our destination?" He asked, curious as to where he and Azumi would go next. He had a distinct feeling that it would be different than another enemy encampment for captured rebels.

Drebin shook his head. "Nah, we're not going anywhere. Been tracking this one guy, but he'll handle himself."

Azumi depolarized her visor, but put her elbows on her knees, just leaning forward silently and letting him continue.

The arms dealer nodded to her silence. "I'll assume you guys don't know about the SOP or any of those nanomachines. From the look of how you act, you ain't from the System at all. Kinda how I could spot you."

The soldier frowned. "Explanations? And any information on how things operate. I hear about 'the System', but we don't have any real info."

Drebin nodded. "SOP, the System. Nanomachines people've got in them. The Patriots... I'll give you the short version, since the long one's a bit much, right?"

"Spill it." She was a little annoyed, yes.

"Right. Now then, the nanomachines are used to make these soldiers, these mercenaries, the perfect killing machines. Control all parts of the battlefield, control the war economy, keep the world running."

She scowled then. "A world run by war? Seriously?"

"Suppressed emotional responses, so they don't have to deal with post-traumatic stress. Just keep fighting, working, killing."

She clenched a fist. They were using soldiers like they were nothing. "Where do we come in?"

"Rebels have it too, yeah. Personally, I'd work against the PMCs as long as you're here. Far as I can tell... Pieuvre Armement is the one around here. Octopus Armaments, French based. Not like it matters, what with how things are global."

"The start of a long journey is the first step," Ezio leaned forward, interlocking his fingers, "Where might we find this armory? But more importantly, who controls it?" He said.

Ezio was aware of a saying, cut off the head of the snake, and the body dies. If they could neutralize the head of this particular armory, the command structure would collapse on itself. A simple but effective tactic that the master assassin had utilized extensively.

Another shake of the head. "No, no. Armement is just the name. Private military corporation, PMCs? I'd assume the lady can explain enough."

Azumi did. "Mercenary companies. Hired guns working as a group." She looked to the arms dealer again, ignoring Little Gray's chattering. "What're we dealing with?"

Drebin pointed to pictures along the wall. "Slider unmanned aircraft, attack helicopters, Strykers like the one you're in now." He pointed up. "Sunroof for them to attack through." He then pointed to a new picture, one looking like a mechanical biped with a "head" of sorts. "GEKKO. Walking tanks with machine guns on them. Sound like cows when they call out, can kill you in one swing. Still, got an organic base, so you can probably take them out with enough firepower to the head or backs of the legs for a nonlethal takedown."

Azumi thought a moment. "Would you call them human?"

"Would you?"

"The question."

A shrug. "Nah, not at all. Some synthetic blood, but that's about it." He pointed to another picture, one of what appeared, by the form fit of the armor, to be a woman in black body armor, with a black helmet on and red "goggles". She was pressed against a wall, two more behind her jumping high into the air, and a fourth on the ground, a P90 submachine gun in her hands as she aimed forward. "FROGs, we call them. Elite troopers from Outer Heaven, an even stronger PMC than these others. Probably runs them, for all we know, but whatever. Main deal, they're affected by the System, got no emotion, but they're fast, good at CQC -- clo--"

"I know what close quarters combat is," she said.

"Right, right. Nanomachines burn the bodies when they die, but that's if you can actually kill them. I'd assume they're with those leaders. Yeah, the PMCs have 'em."

Little Gray screeched more, waved to the vending machine. Azumi noticed, but waved him off to say she didn't really want it.

"The tech on this thing. That nanomachines too?" Rather than question, she just assumed it was too technical for her. Not that she couldn't get the tech down.

"OctoCamo," he said. "Mimics the blending capabilities of an octopus. Texture, colors, even heat signature, able to hide. Can upload pre rendered ones sometimes for faster use, too. Think like a chameleon. You want to buy it?"

She shook her head. "Not yet, but we could use some of the equipment. Any other options?"

"Well, there's FaceCamo, same tech applied on a mask for you to make. Maybe if one of the Beasts is out there, you can get it off of her. The one in charge of Pieuvre Armement, if an animal is anything to go on. Now, on that subject, about those lea--"

The call of a raven, of someone shouting in anger incessantly, could be heard up above, far away. It was also accompanied by the sound of aircraft.

"Again. B&Bs." He opened the sunroof, looking out a bit.

Once he heard the sound of aircraft, Ezio stopped thinking about the usefulness of 'OctoCamo' and stood up to look through the sunroof with Drebin. "What are B&-" He began, staring at the sky, before stopping at the sight of a squadron of what Ezio could only assume was giant mechanical birds of sorts, from the way they flew. While they were too far away to notice the trio, from Ezio's Eagle Vision painting them in a silhouette of red, they were hostile. Once the squadron flew out of sight, Ezio faced Drebin. He seemed to know about the mysterious aircraft.

"I assume you are about to enlighten us?" Said Ezio, who sat back down.

Azumi similarly flashed her VISR on and off, a quick check without blinding herself. Red outlines. Then she, too, sat down, letting Drebin answer and he did the same.

"You've never heard of 'em? They're Beauty and the Beast. Together they're called the B&B Corps. They're a squad of enhanced female soldiers - belong to the PMCs. Any time there's a mess that needs cleaning up, they're on the scene leading the elites. Freelancers hired by the PMCs, I'd think, working out of that parent organization that sent out the FROGs."

Azumi frowned. Okay, so that was a female over there at the front, screaming about her rage.

He leaned back, taking out a quarter, on that he began to fiddle with, flipping over itself repeatedly, finger to finger, one side to the other as he spoke. "Out for a guy I work with, one 'Solid Snake', with a kill on side order. Or as I call him, 'Old Snake.' He's the guy I've been tracking. Can send you his way if you need it. Now, that's the bad news."

She sighed. Probably a protagonist, but with the firepower she assumed that one had...really? "Perfect. Now, the good news?"

"Word on the street says that beneath those ugly-a** suits, the B&Bs are real babes... Drop-dead gorgeous."

A further frown. "Excuse me?" That didn't qualify as news to her, just information. And unnecessary at that.

"Yeah, yeah, you're good too." To her grunt of annoyance, he just looked to Ezio. "Any questions?"

Chuckling softly at the exchange, Ezio glanced at Azumi, "He is not necessarily lying." He said, before facing Drebin. He already had a clear idea about his question.

"Who is 'Solid Snake', and why are these B&Bs trying to kill him? I assume he has done something significant to make certain people angry?" Ezio asked, and his curiosity beckoned him to take Drebin up on his offer. The mere mention of Snake's name seemed to give off a hint as to his significance on this world.

There was a slightest twitch of an eyebrow from Azumi to Ezio's approval. Aside from being a Master Assassin, the Florentine Assassin was also a master of not. Helping.

Drebin defused the situation by redirecting attention to the older man's question. "Right. Snake... He's a legend in the intel community. Special operations, standard spy stuff, you know the deal. From how you two are going nonlethal, sounds like your kind of stuff. Not that you aren't starting any fires, but this guy's been in the business for about a decade at least. CIA, especially. Don't really care what exactly got him in this position, but the real deal is the Beasts." On Little Gray's continued chatter, he flicked the quarter over, letting him pay for a NARC.

"Same people who say about their looks talk about their minds." On this, he pointed to his own head as a pantomime before letting the hand down. "Each one of them's been traumatized by war. Badly." His expression turned sour with his tone, as did Azumi's, her annoyance going away for a while. She knew what it was like. "They weren't even soldiers to begin with, you know. More like victims of war."

On this, Azumi's head lowered, a sigh escaping her lips. More she could identify with, though in her own way. She'd hidden the pain of what the Spartans had done on her world deep, didn't really bother to think about it. Beside her, Ezio merely nodded. He was all too aware of fighting a war, not by choice, but by losing something dear.

"They suffered shell-shock on the battlefield... Post-traumatic. It damaged their minds pretty much beyond repair... So the only way they could cope with the reality of battle was to become war machines themselves. The remnants of their human side are buried deep within. The beast... That's what you see on the outside. War transforms us... Into beasts."

"...I can relate," she finally said. "I... I don't think I'll kill them if I can help it."

Ezio nodded in agreement, "Nor will I."

A nod. "That's on you two. But deep within that shell, something human survives. A fragile, scarred heart. Without a shell to protect it, it's like the yolk of an egg. Word going around is... Their natural, flesh-and-blood bodies can't survive in the open for more than a few minutes." He looked to her, just letting that hang. Maybe it was impossible.

She wasn't having any of it. "Continue."

A nod. "And they've been convinced that by killing Snake, their minds will be cleansed. They think it's gonna free them from all the pain... And all the fury... And all the sorrow. Which makes these babes pretty much obsessed... With killing him."

A slow nod of the ODST. "Names? Abilities?"

He nodded, pointing to the wall again, to one exoskeleton at a time. First to the birdlike one. "The one you just saw is Raging Raven, aerial attack and demolitions." Then to a quadrupedal one, one that looked a bit like a wolf. "Crying Wolf. Scout, sniper, and brute force. She runs on four legs." Then to the next, one that looked like a hovering mantis. "Screaming Mantis, the mistress of mind control." And lastly, one that looked like it was an octopus, with four mechanical tentacles. "And Laughing Octopus, a master of mimicry."

The two looked them over, Azumi staying on the last one. "Octopus? Like Octopus Armaments?" She asked.

A nod. "I'd think. Maybe you'll find her around here. Ease her pain."

The sergeant nodded slowly. "I'll... I'll try my best. I'm sure Ezio will, too."

Ezio nodded, "We will." He said, "One last question, however. Is there a way to adapt this... OctoCamo onto my robes?" The Master Assassin had no preference for a bodysuit, it would only prove a mobile liability for him. To have his robes blend into the surroundings, however, would be extremely useful in his line of work.

Drebin shrugged. "Could happen, I guess. We don't even need System nanomachines for it if you get the tech. Problem is, I'm a gun launderer, not a tailor. If you can find someone who specializes in that kind of thing and can work with the tech, be my guest. I just deal in weapons."

Azumi again. "Think you can get me a nonlethal, close combat weapon? Something strong, but that I can use for lethal and nonlethal blows."

A nod. "Yeah, actually. Got one special made, a leftover from older ops. Call it a high-frequency blade. I think this one's wakizashi length. Blade resonates at high frequencies, raising the temperature and cutting ability. Good for slicing, stabbing, and clubbing if you use the blunt sides. Probably can fit a taser charge activated in the hilt for you for those nonlethal takedowns, though it'll need recharge time. Think that works? Gonna cost you."

Azumi looked to Ezio on that. "I think so, but I might need some training with it. Ezio, do you think you can help me pay for it? I'll get you someone to tailor some of that OctoCamo."

Ezio searched for his money bag, "What is this world's currency, Drebin?" He said, and the weapon salesman raised a hand in response.

"Currency won't be an issue. I deal in... Drebin points, and I'd imagine your cash would convert easily. If you get my drift." He said, and Ezio raised an eyebrow in response.

"...Drebin points?" The Master Assassin had never heard of such a currency, and he glanced at Azumi, as if silently asking her if she knew anything about this man's form of payment.

Azumi shrugged to Ezio's look. "I'd imagine it's unconventional. Kind of need to have a different currency, what with dealing under the table like this and probably internationally."

Drebin nodded. "Even without the war economy." As Azumi opened her mouth to ask what that was, he walked over to the driver's seat, Little Gray closing the door with his soda in hand. "Don't you worry, guys," he said, looking at them over his shoulder, left arm out. Two fingers pointed to his eyes. "Eye." They curled into a fist with the fingers up briefly. "Have." And then pointed them toward his customers. "You."