As I stood there, waiting to receive my uniform, gear and be assigned a contractor, I thought 'I'm finally done with all their shit. No more tests, no more drills and no more doubters' "Jason Demetri!" That's me. Name: Jason Demetri, age: twenty-one, height: five foot eleven inches. My best friend, Tucker Gersburg, nudges me and I go up the stage. Headmistress Annabelle Hicks hands me a trademark suit, a katana with my calling card, a raven carrying a rose, on the hilt and sheath and no doubt on the blade, a set of ten throwing knives and a Berretta .50 cal pistol with a silencer attached. When I nod in acceptance of the equipment, my friends and classmates cheer. As I turn to face the crowd gathered in honor of this years graduates, a hand falls upon my left shoulder. From the feel of it, it was the left hand of a female. I glance over my left shoulder and see none other than THE Natalie Betton. I can not believe they chose the tall, blonde and beautiful Natalie Betton to be my contractor. She graduated five years ago at the age of sixteen as the youngest assassin to ever leave the Academy alive. She is not only one of the deadliest women in the world, she is also a world renowned hacker with the alias Black Cat. She was, is and will forever be my idol and now she's my partner. 'Holy fuck!' I thought while keeping a straight face, 'I am officially the luckiest man alive! I wonder though.... if I do extremely well, will she let me in her panties?' The a voice penetrates my thoughts like a knife through the heart. "Wake up daydreamer." Natalie whispers in my ear "Time to head to our new headquarters." I nod slowly and head to the changing room. After a brief shower and a quick change, I head out to the garage. On my way, I notice Natalie is nowhere in sight which is customary but unsettling for sure. Losing sight of Natalie could mean losing my life. I shake off the feeling as I approach my black 2010 Kawasaki Ninja, mounting it as soon as I reach it. As I insert the key into the ignition and start the vehicle, I pat the right side gently like I always have. It's sort of a ritual, almost as if the bike would ride smoother or turn easier. I had only ever not done it twice. One of those times the engine wouldn't start while the other resulted in an accident. Neither I nor the bike were damaged badly but it required a new paint job and I needed some gauze bandages. The bike starts with a purr that would give any mechanic wet dreams and I back out of my spot, stopping abruptly as a black 84 Camaro flies past, horn blaring until it was roughly fifteen yard away. It was Natalie! She had gotten to her car first and now the race was on. I back out completely and rev my engine twice before starting off in hot pursuit. Roughly two hundred miles, a pit stop and two states later, I arrive at an abandoned mansion in the middle of nowhere up in Colorado. I knew it was the place because there were two and a half dozen heavily armed men all over the place. I draw my pistol and eject the clip, whispering to myself. "Let's see how much they loved me...."