“Mercenary work can be perverse and cruel, no mercy, no morals. What better monster to do the job?”
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Slade did what he did best, his movements bleeding through the cracks like a light whisper.
It wasn't difficult to find his only daughter, and it wasn't difficult to make entry into her supposed hideout.
It was far too easy to break in, in fact.
Did he teach her nothing?
He -
@ProwlingPoison - frame-up. Slade was semi-sure she did too. It's been a while.
"It's about thirteen, or fourteen million."
He lowered his phone, cold gaze now cast on the woman. She was wise to be wary. The years had only hardened his senses, not weakened. Slade wasn't one to take lightly.
Boots propped up over the coffee table, Slade leaned back in his seat, index finger gliding across his phone's screen.
He's close to beating his high score in Angry Birds.
@ProwlingPoison "Hm. I figure a plain assassination would work better for you. Although, I do have one assassination and frame job. Big companies involved, so the 'evidence' left behind must be rough yet perfect in framing the other."
He knew better than to make it look too obvious of a -