HITMAN: The Anthology

Contract 9: Olé!

"Here they are." Clera left a stack of papers on Diana's desk. "The target profiles and a floorplan of the Plaza."

Diana took and sifted through them. Satisfied, she gave the slightest nod. "Thank you."

"If that's all, I'll be going. There's been a lot of contracts coming my way from the Middle East, and I've been knocking them out like no tomorrow."

Clera had only touched the doorknob when Diana spoke. "Actually, would you mind staying for a bit?"

Hesitantly, she let go of the knob. A biting chill set on her nerves. "Sure. Did you want to talk about something...?"

Some of her anxiety melted away at Diana's smile. "I'm aware we haven't been speaking as much. I have a habit of zoning in too much on my work, I realize, and I'm sorry. I hope we're still friends."

"Of course!" Clera nodded energetically. "You don't need to apologize. I know you get a lot more work than I do. That comes with being the best."

Diana planted the papers on her desk with a surprising amount of force that made Clera flinch. "Then, as friends, when were you planning on telling me about this experimental chip you had inserted into 47's brain?"

Clera froze. Her mouth ajar, only dry croaks of the word "I" escaped.

"I wasn't informed about an experimental program. More or less that Agent 47 was part of it--especially after the fact that he already took part!"

"It wasn't my call," she finally responded, much less chipper than moments ago. "Myung gave the order--I just passed it along."

"And you didn't think to tell me?"

Clera winced. One little thing, and she was being talked down for it. Clenching her fingers, she took a breath. "Why are you so cross? It was 47's choice."

Diana scoffed. "I don't buy that. You know as well as I do what procedure dictates. It's chain of command--what goes to the agent must go through the handler, first." Diana sat calm and composed, keeping her hands in her lap. "As it is, I don't know any other handler in the Agency who would be willing to bypass that. Not with me."

Clera curled up on her seat, fingers writhing. "I don't like what you're getting at..."

"And what do you think I'm getting at?"

Clera looked at the ground.

"Ever since you covered for me in the Sidjan killings, you've looked at me in a different light." The air grew tighter for her peer. "Where you would ask me how my work is coming along, you started asking how 47 is doing. I've seen the way you interact with our co-workers; you've become easy to irritate. When you--"

"Not everyone is perfect like you, Diana!" Clera jumped from her seat, covering the ground between them in an instant, even stunning Diana. "Any normal person would see their agent die again, and again, and again! Not everyone gets to have an Agent 47! You have no idea what it's like to always play behind someone's shadow! I have to put up with everybody talking down to me like I'm some kickable puppy. In the few seconds I held your earpiece, I was more significant than in the past 30 years of my life..."

The room fell silent, save for the ever-running air conditioner and Clera's heavy breathing. It was Diana who broke the pattern. "I know. I know that I'm more 'fortunate' than many others. I also know what it's like to see forces beyond my power ruin my life."

The breathing slowed.

"I may not understand the type of person you see me as, but you cannot let others dictate your life, indirectly or not. Had I let myself be driven by revenge on others before the Agency found me, I'd likely be dead and stuffed in a barrel courtesy of Blue Seed."