Python

PREFACE

Anne looked around. It was dark, pitch black. She tried wriggling her fingers in front of her face. She didn't see them until they hit her nose. She sighed, even if Mosa was comimg he'd have the whole gang hiding and she was just too tired. Anne slunk home in the shadow of the night... with no idea what she was about to start.

At home she melted into her bed and was asleep before her head touched the pillow. Meanwhile, Mosa shook his bald, scarred, ugly, tatooed head. He was convinced she'd walked away because she didn't have it. He turned to Grizzle, his best mate;"Grizzle", he muttered,"I fink The Vipas 'ave their next target." They both laughed, gestured to The Boys and walked away smiling, it had been along time since they had something for themselves, it would be fun.

CHAPTER ONE; A KID AND AN ITALIAN

The Boys slowly nodded. A real target, for them, it sounded good and fun. Mosa looked at Grizzle then at The Kid. Two of the three out the front were grinning evily but not The Kid;" But, but, but, boss, won't it be a little, uh, hard," he stuttered. Mosa laughed and shook his head, "One girl," he said, "It will be anyfink but hard!" "Yes boss, I just fought that, uh, ummm, what wiv operation Python, don't we 'ave, you know, enough on our 'ands?" Mosa leaned in close; "Nufink is EVER too much for us, kid!"  He angrily spat the words out. Grizzle chuckled, "look 'ere boss, he's blushin', I fink it's young luv,". The Boys all burst out laughing. All except one.

Roberto shook his head. He'd had enough, he'd come from Italy, where he'd killed a man, looking for money. He knew that if he hadn't killed that man he wouldn't have been accepted here. He liked the work of assassination, in fact he loved it. But the dumb, thick British accents were driving him mad and taunting a kid? Even letting a kid in was madness. 'Whats next?' He thought, shaking his head again. The man next to him leaned in, " Come on Robby, boy, join in wouldcha?" "My name is Roberto." And in seconds the man was slumped, dead on the floor.

After the meeting The Kid shuffled off to his blankets, replacing the threatning tears with a string of very coulorful swearwords. He dropped down and sighed. From the moment he had first played Assassins Creed on his PS1 in 2007, when he was 12 years old, he had known that this was he what he wanted to do. But maybe, once he was trained, he should go solo, ditch the gang. He slowly shook his head, not possible, he knew what happened to desserters. They were shot, hung, blown up, stabbed, drowned, burnt or injured and left to die. He smiled grimly, hung, burnt? In the mordern, 2014 England only The Vipas would that. He burried himself into his pillow and let the quiet tears go, 'After all I'm only 18,' He thought. He knew that at the age of 20 there would be no tears, just laughter at the newbies, like him, and grim satisfactory at deaths.

Roberto woke with a start. Over to his right a strange sobbing was reaching his ears. "Hello?" He whispered. "Rrrobbbeerrto?" Came the stuttered reply. "Yes, you are The Kid? Are you not?" "Yeah, thats me. I've 'eard of you." Roberto sighed and wondered what to do with a crying 18 year old. 'Hmmmm, I'll just voice thoughts.' "Now," He murmered, " I have no idea what to do but why the hell are you crying?" "Because The Boys all laugh at my American accent, I try to sound like them, they make fun of my age, they make fun of me at every possible oppurtinity, I don't fit in. I have to get out of here." "I understand" Roberto smiled. He'd just found a new partner.