The City- The streets

Merc fidgeted in his seat, his bleach blond hair flattened against the window of the city bus. His arms crossed instinctually, he was nervous, he knew it. What will become of Allistair and Trev? The Empress is well known as a ruthless woman, regardless of the potential worth of her prisoners. Maybe-just maybe- she will hire us he thought. Wishful thinking on his part.

He pushed the red button on the top of the seat in front of him, signalling his stop to the bus driver. The bus slowed to a halt, the two back dors swung open. Merc pused past the plethora of people between him and the door and out into the open air. well, as open as the air can be in the city.

" I'm too young to die." he sighed.

"Debatable," an amused voice responded. A woman stepped out of the shadows, tall and dark, with long braids falling below her waist. She wore all black, and had blended so well with the shadows that Merc hadn't even noticed her. That thought chilled him. She was an ally - a very attractive ally, at that - but definitely not to be trusted.

"Hello, Fabiola," he said.

Merc, genuinely unamused by her tragically cliche entrance, continued walking.

" Alistair and Trev are with the Empress," he informed her " I dont have the time, I really dont."

Merc spun on his heel and walked back towards Fabiola-- god, what a stupid name-- and grabbed her hand, dragging her along. His black converses scarcely keeping his feet warm as the freshly fallen snow made a pleasing crunch with each step. He whipped his cell phone out and pressed the number two key, after a moment the phone dialed a series of seventy-two numbers.

The phone continued to beep " Why come back now, of all times?" he asked, staring at the phone, while still pulling her along.