Yeah, the title's a bit cheesy. But hey this fic was written in
an hour and I had no other title idea.		

************

                              The man was waiting for someone. A man like him 
was always waiting for someone. A  cigarette glowed it's weak light in the 
dark alley from the man's lips while he waited. He was dressed in what he 
called the 'ordinary man' clothes. White shirt , black blazer, black pants,
topped off by a red tie and a slightly battered brown fedora. 

                             He heard the footsteps. He didn't look up from his place. 
He waited until the footsteps stopped right across him and a figure leaned 
back against the wall. He saw the patent leather shoes and the edges of  
a black coat. He knew that the man across him was wearing a tuxedo and 
was probably quite pissed off. 

' This better be good. The opera tickets cost me a whole bundle.'

The man snickered as he took a drag from his cigarette.

' If GENOM completes it's current project , the opera ain't gonna be worth much.'

' What do you mean ?' 

' GENOM retrieval units found one of our little trinkets. '

' Good God ! Who did it belong to ? '

' It was Max's before he got offed.' 
                                                 
' If GENOM ever finds out what that thing can do? we're in deep shit.'

' If that were'nt bad enough, it seems GENOM is going to find out our little 
secret even without one of our playthings.'

' What !?! You don't mean Project Charon has been approved ?'

' I tried to stop it. But, hey,  I ain't no James Bond.'

' This is bad , kid. Really bad.'

' You're tellin' me.' He said before he went into a coughing fit.       

' You know those things are gonna kill you.' 

' Heh ! Been smoking since sixteen and I'm still strong as an ox. Anyway, 
I called in an expert.'

' What for ?'

' For dealing with our little problem with GENOM.'   

' What's  he gonna do ?'

' Everything. Even blowing up GENOM tower. But he'll try every thing humanly 
possible to keep this low profile and nothing traced back to us. ' 

' They're that close aren't they ?  You sure this expert can do the job. '

' Don't worry. He's gonna do fine.'

' I'm still uncomfortable about this. I say we move out and leave the expert to 
handle this. That way we got nothin' to lose.' 

'  Fine with me. '

' Let's get outtta here. The stench'll seep into my clothes.' 

 With that the two men walked out of the alley. One went out the other side and 
went into a rusty old car. The other chose the direction he came from and entered 
a stylish black Porsche. A smirk was on his face as he considered what sort of 
trouble their little expert would cause GENOM.

GENOM was going to be in a world of hurt for the next couple of months and the 
best thing about it was they didn't even know who hit them.

***************  

                         In a sleazy bar on the other side of town a woman entered. 
She was a beautiful woman , early twenties, short black hair , wearing a 
businness suit that didn't fit the atmosphere of the place and an icy demeanor 
that could freeze your socks off. Everyone in the bar ignored her probably because 
they were all passed out or they were busy looking into their mugs of beer. 
All except for one. That person was in a niche in the far wall, the obscuring 
shadows hiding him , nursing  a bottle of beer. She spproached the table and 
took a seat.

' Good evening , Ms. Stingray.  I see Fargo has informed you about the disk in your
possesion. I am quite sorry if I cannot let you know my name. Business like the one 
I'm involved in is quite risky with names. Did you bring the retrieved disk ? ' 

' Yes.' 
    
' Well  then , this should be easy.' He said as he brought out a suitcase and set it out 
on the table. An audible click and a quick open and close, just enough for Sylia to see 
the money.

' 500 million . Cash. Enough to let you live a very long, happy life.' 

Sylia brought out a small DVD disc and laid it out on the table. Her campoanion's hand 
reached for it.She covered it with her hand. 

' How am I sure that the money in the suitcase is real ? And what's inside the disc ? ' 

' Ms. Stingray, me and my associates deal in good faith. We never welch on deals. It's a 
matter of principle.'

' Good faith isn't something you see everyday in the business we're in '

' Ahhh. But we are an exception.' He said as he pulled a wallet from his pocket. A badge 
and ID were on it. 

' Interpol. Badges can be faked and IDs forged.'

' Then we just have to trust each other won't we. Besides the security on the disc you have 
in your possesion can only be from either government sources or a big company. Namely 
GENOM. If GENOM knew about your little mercenary group, You'd probably be dead by now.'

' I still don't trust you. But you can have the disk. The encryption program and the security 
measures on it could'nt be cracked even by our hacker. It may as well be a paperweight for us.'

' I applaud you decision , Ms. Stingray. I think we must leave separately so as not to incur 
suspicion.'

With that the man stood up and took the disc and went out the back door. 

Moments later Sylia's Porsche moved out of the parking space in front of the bar.

Behind the bar, the man was holding his cellular phone to his ear.

' Madigan, a message just arrived for you. '

***************
There. At least three conspiracies are about to hit Megatokyo and I've got two 
down already.

BTW, I need Priss' dead boyfriend's name. 

C&C is welcome. Hey, MSTs are begged for.
__________________________________________________________
' Writers are the torchbearers of civilization. We're set in a corner only we
can illuminate.Some of us are searchlights, able to cast a beam into the 
far reaches of the human soul.Some of us are candles , barely able to 
sustain a glow against the darkness. Nevertheless the words I write 
are important, because light is additive. Another's light  doesn't diminish
 my own. Our lights together make us stronger.'   
                   - (After much paraphrasing and reaaranging) Roger Martin