Fenrir's Fangs

((Gona stick with "James" for my descendent's name, I don't like anything else. >.>

Also, I'll do something about advancing the story in the next post, this one is dedicated all to me. ^_^))

James moved swiftly but almost silently through the hallway's of the Dusk HQ, the only sound that could be heard was the slight flapping of his Black leather Trenchcoat and the soft clicking type sound that his .50 calliber revolver made as is shook in it's holster, the same features that always adorned his face were present, the bored look in his cold, grey eyes, the unsmiling thin lips, the unkept hair that hung just over his eyes.

James had worked his way up the ranks of Dusk through sheer determination and unwavering loyalty, he assumed his heratige had probably helped some, though he hated to admit it to himself, he never cared much for trivial things like familly or friends, he cared even less for stories of the past, he would coldly brush people off as they tried to show him the very few pictures that existed of his father, he just did not care.

He swung the door open on a seventh floor room, this room was currently in use to track the movements of Fairview Guard patrolls and troop movements, this was where Agent's went to gather intel after they recieved a mission, the Engines and Settler's in the room stood to attention as he entered, James didn't bother agknowledging then, he meerly picked up a folder on the table with his name on it and walked out again, people were used to this by now, James would never talk to anyone unless he needed to, and even then it was short, and to the point, the man did go to the bar still in operation on the top floor, frequently, but he always drank alone.

The folder contained details on the mission he was to carry out, apparently there was a squad of Fairview guards transporting weapons and ammunition very close to their territory, James was in charge of eliminating them and destroying the cargo, Dusk didn't need it but they didn't want them to have it either.

James was supposed to take along a squad of his own of his choosing, but, although the man was an exeptionally skilled tactical commander, he preferred to work alone whenever he could, he didn't like dealing with other people.

He made his way downstairs and out the steel door, coldly ignoring everyone on the way as he read the remainder of the file, when he reached the outside, he took his lighter from his pocket, burned the doccument and scattered the ashes, there would be no paper trail, he then light a ciggarette from his seemingly infinite supply and dissapeared into the semi darkness.