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 [b]Title: Man of Conviction
 
 Characters: Cheryl Mason, Isaac Zivaku, Samuel Fisher, Sarah Fisher, and three unnamed burglars.
 
 Situation (Context): In the year 1991 (prior to the first game in the [i]Splinter Cell[/i] franchise), Isaac and Cheryl have a run in with the retired Navy SEAL in a tenuous situation. This takes place before "Gateway to Ruin" for Isaac and after "Edge and Flight" for both Interferences.[/b]
 
 
-It was a dark, but not all that stormy night. This was good, because they really were both sick of rain in general.
+It was a dark, but not all that stormy night. This was good, because they really were both sick of rain in general, and at least they still had their gear this time.
 
 Beaming into a world behind a two-story sub-urban house in the middle of the night was, in hindsight, not really one of their smartest maneuvers, yes. But it wasn't like they knew what the world would be like beforehand.
 
 Isaac had his Collector assault rifle on his back, but no weapons out. His wings were tucked in under his shirt, his eyes crimson. That was enough to show that the world was indeed a powered one. He heard some commotion near the front, but didn't move toward it, not wanting to wake anyone in the streets. Instead, he looked to a pipe nearby, one that could presumably be used to climb up to a higher window. He looked to his companion.
 
 "Want to try out our training, Cher? Ladies first."
 
 Cheryl Mason rolled her eyes. She had heard of what happened in Sinnoh from Isaac, yes, and she did respect him more for that, but the only reason she was agreeing to break into a random house was the rather shady figures they saw going inside as well. Protection, not theft. "Alright, but I get free reign to kick you, then." Before she could grab the pipe, he apparently made his reaction to the message, taking the length before her and putting one foot on the side of the house, proceeding to climb with a grumble.
 
 "I didn't even mean to look, though I still say it wasn't bad."
 
 "Just climb, demon," she retaliated, taking it after he was up a sizable length. "And try not to bring too much attention to the eye thing; we have enough getting beaten up lately."
 
 The way up was rather quiet, considering the night. He thought he could hear another person going inside again. Still, he focused more on climbing than whatever was inside.
 
 Cheryl, on the other hand, took a glance in through the window on the second floor once they had reached it, grabbing the one to the right of the pipe while Isaac had taken the one on the left, gripping the edge carefully before slowly sliding it up and open.
 
 The upper floor consisted of a hallway leading to three rooms, one of which they had approached, an entertainment room. A pair of french doors led off to the entertainment room, which she surveyed along with the demon. It had two couches, with one to the left and another near the back wall. A small cabinet between them held a record player/VCR combination and a television. A framed newspaper with an article showing an American flag was beside the window on the back wall. The carpet was in a checkered pattern. To the left of the french doors from their angle, there was a small table and another padded chair. The entire room seemed a little messy, with a wine bottle resting in the middle of the carpet, and a noodle bowl, bag of chips, and beer bottle all resting on the table. A potted plant rested near the same table, a box of tissues on its side underneath the same table. One of the couches looked recently slept in, with a blanket draped over the seat in an untidy manner.
 
 There was a staircase leading down into the first floor that was blocked by a child safety gate, a wooden panel floor at the bottom of the staircase. The room at the far end from them seemed to be a bathroom, the half-open door showing a toilet within. A white door behind some glass doors was also present and visible from this angle, perhaps the child's room.
 
 Cheryl frowned, hearing a commotion inside, the men now definitely up to no good. She and Isaac nodded to one another and, with him raising the window as well, slipped into the room as silently as possible, crouching low.
 
-The noise was closer from the intruders, barely audible as they walked around in the hallway.
+The noise was closer from the intruders, barely audible as they walked around in the hallway and came into the entertainment room, though unaware of those watching them.
 
 "Are you kidding me, man?" one asked.
 
 "Come on, we didn't have enough time before, right?" a second responded, coming into view. He had shaved brown hair, a small mustache, and light skin, and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Very subtle indeed.
 
-"Ugh, whatever," a third grunted, as the two Interferences crept to the side, behind one of the couches, getting a better look. They winced as they heard the sound of breaking glass, but watched nonetheless. The one who had talked third spoke. He was fair of skin and had a baseball cap on. "Wha'd you got, man? You got anything good?"
+"Ugh, whatever," a third grunted, as the two Interferences crept to the side, behind one of the couches, keeping out of sight. They winced as they heard the sound of breaking glass, but watched nonetheless. The one who had talked third spoke. He was fair of skin and had a baseball cap on and a green shirt. "Wha'd you got, man? You got anything good?"
 
-The other robber pulled his elbow out of the glass of the window he had broken, annoyed as he dropped a baseball on the ground. "This place is [i]sh**[/i]."
+The other robber pulled his elbow out of the glass of the window he had broken, annoyed as he dropped a baseball on the ground. He was bald, with dark skin and an orange jacket on. "This place is [i]sh**[/i]."
 
 A shrug. "You picked it, a**hole. You said we'd get a couple of thou' easy."
 
 The angry one turned on him. "I heard there was medals and sh** we could fence in here! The lady who lives here is hot. Maybe we can wait for her to come home."
 
 Isaac and Cheryl traded deadpan looks from their vantage point. Robbery apparently was not exactly a profession necessitating even the slightest bit of kindness in speech. Not exactly unexpected, but still depressing in a minor degree. They looked back as the other answered again as they each drew their weapons, Cheryl her handgun, Isaac his assault rifle, ready to take aim.
 
 "Take 'er out and trade..." the disagreeing robber still grinned at the thought.
 
 "Now you're talkin'!"
 
-The other was coming out of the bathroom when they saw the newcomer approaching from the side, with his black hair and black T-shirt, apparently the owner of the place. According to Isaac's heart scan... Samuel Leo Fisher, retired from the "Navy SEALs", whatever they were. Something military, not a lot of time to check.
+The other was coming out of the bathroom when they saw the newcomer approaching from the side, with his black hair and black T-shirt, apparently the owner of the place. According to Isaac's heart scan... Samuel Leo Fisher, retired from the "Navy SEALs", whatever they were. Something military, not a lot of time to check. He seemed young, about in his late twenties, early thirties or something.
 
-The one from the bathroom immediately noticed his mistake. "Sh**!" He charged, aiming a black handgun at Fisher, but was no match.
+The one from the bathroom immediately noticed his mistake. "Sh**!" He charged, aiming a black handgun at Fisher, but was no match as Fisher turned. The ex-SEAL reached out with his left arm, the punch taking the robber in the neck and forcing him back as he grabbed the gun from his hands. He turned it in his hands before the stagger even stopped, and shot, the resounding gunshot hitting the intruder straight between the eyes, spraying blood and brains behind him as he collapsed.
 
-==========
+Even as the two Interferences kept their guns out, it was no matter. The two other robbers seemed to notice something wrong... for the moment. The one with the orange jacket couldn't even react as a bloody headshot took him as well, the last of them trying to run for cover to avoid it, but not making it more than half a step before he met the same fate.
 
-Robber 2: I heard there was medals and shit we could fence in here! The lady who lives here is hot. Maybe we can wait for her to come home.
+"[i]Sh**[/i] that was fast..." Cheryl couldn't help but blurt out. She wished she could get that kind of precision and speed. Although the entire issue did merit the call, it did not help them.
 
-Robber 1: Take 'er out and trade...
+The gun was aimed their way through the doors. "Out," Fisher said flatly, frowning. Not wanting any trouble, both of them stood, a bit of blood on Cheryl's shoulder and Isaac's gun.
 
-Robber 2: Now you're talkin'!
+Cheryl held her hands up at shoulder height. "We saw them coming and wanted to try to help out," she said.
 
-Robber 3 (running out of bathroom on seeing Fisher): Shit!
+Isaac agreed, putting his gun back on his back carefully. "There's no need for any more blood than necessary, so just put down the gu--" He was cut off as the sound of a creaking door was heard.
 
 "Dad?" came the sound of a little girl, about eight or so. She came into view, with dark hair and pigtails. Fisher turned to face his daughter. "What did you do to them, dad?" She was obviously very upset, looking at her father and back to the dead bodies, then to her father.
 
 Fisher sighed, putting on the safety on the gun and walking around to his daughter, crouching down and holding her shoulders, turning her away from the carnage and to his chest, holding her close. "Sarah, baby, don't look." He looked to the Interferences, then to their weapons, saddened by Sarah's distress, but not without curiosity about what those were.
 
 Sarah cried into his chest. "What are you doing, daddy? What are you doing?"
 
 Isaac sighed. "We can talk later. I imagine you have a lot you want to talk about with us. Just take care of your daughter, then we can talk after."
 
 He nodded slightly. "Is there something else?" he asked, his voice quiet.
 
 "There's the driver. We can get him downstairs," Cheryl said, crouching down and touching Sarah's shoulder sadly. "Your dad is going to make sure you feel better. Just try to calm down and we'll explain." To Fisher's nod of thanks, she stood, knowing that he was probably wary of them anyway, and with good reason.
 
 Isaac motioned to the stairs as Fisher led his daughter in her room again, holding her. When the door closed, they both moved toward them, looking down at the red-haired man with another pistol. Isaac whispered something to her at that. "His name is Sam Fisher. Ex-military."
 
 She nodded, and made her move. Vaulting over the banister, she grabbed the side, sliding down the railings before grabbing the edge. It wasn't too dangerous of a drop, and she could probably get behind him, not sure about a straight up drop down to knock him out just yet, needing more practice for something of that caliber. Sure, she didn't need to be quiet, but it never hurt to practice, especially when she had the more figurative drop on him. She looked up at the Silver Tongue, mouthing, 'you'll know when I'm done', then dropped.
 
 The Holy Mother landed in a crouch, then stood, creeping up behind the man as he looked around, trying to find the source of the gunfire. Before he could react, she grabbed him from behind and grabbed the gun still in his hand
 
 "What the--?" he blurted out as he turned.
 
 But she was ready for him. Stomping on the back of his leg, she kept her hold as he fell to one knee in pain, and grabbed the arm with her other one. Yanking, she threw him straight over her, slamming him on his back in pain as she snatched the gun away from his weakening grip. She stepped back, ready to fight again...
 
 [i]Pulp.[/i] The bullet caught him in the neck, causing him to start choking... when another burst took him in the face, killing him. She looked up, seeing Isaac with his assault rifle, wincing at the brutality, but knowing that was just how he did things, quickly as possible to get the job done. She had gotten what she wanted, though, and did recognize that they had to finish the job that Fisher had started. Still, she had to say something. "[i]Warn[/i] a person."
 
 "And let you blame me giving myself away on me somehow? I think not," he reacted. "Come on, let's finish talking to him. I think we're probably done here, or at least did enough trouble for him."
 
 She grunted, but nodded, ascending the stairs once more and dropping the gun beside the messy corpse, opening the gate.
 
 This was going to be a tough explanation.
 
 (This is where we will end, but one can assume that as of the end of this scrap, Sam Fisher is aware of Interferences, semi-Enlightened like anyone else who's been told. The guns the two have seem to be enough to at least let him consider their way of thinking.)