Caspar had long ago decided he didn't like New York. He didn't like the crowds, the noise, the people everywhere. Back home, there was only a fraction the number of people in the whole facility that he could run into on one street in New York. He didn't like the brashness of it, the way everything clashed like it was determined to be the most gaudy and garish image in a maze of gaudy and garish images. He was used to uniform, to peace, and to calm. But most of all, he hated the sheer American-ness of the city. It was a beacon of it all. The acceptance, the indulgence, the celebration of things that should not be celebrated. He wasn't sure how Kammi was able to spend so much time in such a place.

He, on the other hand, only came when he had a reason. And his reason today was a fairly pressing one. As usual, he was engaged with tracking down and killing anyone who might find out about the resurgence of HYDRA and release that information to the world. This time, however, rather than being an unlucky citizen or an overly enthusiastic journalist, Caspar was going after an FBI agent. The domestic secret police of America, and one of the few things whoever had led the country had gotten right. This one, however, while not an active threat, was tapping away at resources that might eventually give way and lead him to HYDRA, and to Caspar, that presented an unacceptable risk. 

He knew the FBI agent was due to have lunch with a contact, and there there would be a transfer of files. What those files contained, he could not say for sure, but he knew it contributed to some of that unacceptable risk. He also knew that the FBI agent would not arrive at that lunch. At first, his contact would think he was slightly late. Traffic, or maybe a meeting overrunning. Then maybe, after ten or fifteen minutes, the contact would wonder if the agent had had to come a different route or been delayed to avoid tailing. After twenty minutes or half an hour, he might get the idea that the meeting had had to be cancelled for whatever reason. Caspar didn't bother to guess how long it might take the contact to realise there was never going to be a meeting anymore. Of course, the contact would have to vanish too. Perhaps later in the day, but right now Caspar's main priority was the agent.

He was travelling light today. A handgun and his wrist blades. He'd been tempted to bring the tomahawk as well, but he thought it would be unnecessary. Sadly, this wouldn't be a very fun kill. It would be very short. No time to turn it from a statistic into a thing of beauty. Caspar was outside the restaurant, waiting. When he finally saw the agent approach, he hurried towards him, not bothering too much with subtlety as he pushed and slipped through the crowd. If anyone with an interest in what was going on was watching, it wouldn't take them long to notice.

SOmeone had information on Julius and his work and was talking to the FBI. That wouldn't do. Now Julius himself could kill the person and had close to 100 others who could do it as well. But Julius needed this to go relatively unnoticed. THat was when it paid to have a master assassin in your employ. Chari was considered by everyone in Julius' regime to be the greatest assassin. Of course a few now and then tried to disagree and were found in a very public place, throat slit and taken by surprise.

Chari killed the FBI agent quote easily. Posing as a bellhop delivering food. Well, slutty bellhop if we're being honest here. The agent was easily distracted and after a brief seduction the agent was in the bathtub dissolving and she was posing as him. She had already sent copies of whatever he was trading to her master server at her base and moved on.

She was wearing a simple light blue polo and khakis with aviator sunglasses as she approached the cafe. Yes she was running late but that was because she needed to set up some fail safes. Plus she had to make sure her girls were at the target's safe houses. If the person got antsy and ran they wouldn't live long. Chari had her fail safes in place. SHould they go to an unknown house it would be days at best before they died. Of course each 24 hours that passed with them alive would make Julius unhappy, something she didn't want. That was primarily because he knew her one true weakness, or three weaknesses to be precise.

Chari whistled calmly as she impersonated the agent and walked towards the diner. She noticed the terrified person, beginning to look around. She had taken too long and it was only a matter of time before they ran. Chari could easily out run them, it'd be simple. But it was a very public setting, she didn't like that. But suddenly changing the meeting location to a private area would be too dangerous. The person would never show and Chari wanted them dead, because Julius did. As she walked she noticed a man, a cute man, but a man approaching. This was just what she needed, some over eager assassin who also wanted the already dead FBI agent dead.

Caspar didn't really have any need to be subtle here. The agent was probably distinctly past his prime, being more one for investigating than for doing any real legwork. And besides, Caspar was better than other people. If the agent tried to run, he'd simply chase after him, and it would only take him one or two more minutes to bring him down. He didn't even really need to be stealthy. New York was an ocean of faces, and, while his height and bulk were identifying factors, assuming he took off, he could blend in somewhere else. If things turned ugly, he had a mask to hide his face and prevent identification, but he doubted he'd need it. It was a simple job.

The agent was already approaching the cafe. It would be easy to interrupt him and prevent him from reaching his destination, if it weren't for all the people between them. Honestly, it was amazing that Caspar hadn't already been noticed. Some detective. If a man, especially one in such a high-risk career as this man, wasn't aware enough of his surroundings to spot an assassination attempt, he deserved everything he got. Honestly, it probably wasn't worth the risk to even take down such an incompetent American officer. Surely all the information he had gathered had to be down to luck. Such a man would have been drummed out of HYDRA, and most likely executed. But still, for Kammi, Caspar wouldn't take that risk.

Caspar was getting rougher as he pushed his way through the mass of Americans, sending more than one to the ground. Several people cried out indignantly, but Caspar ignored them. With how America was these days, they almost certainly had at least one characteristic that made them undesirable, and thus not worthy of his time on a good day, let alone during a mission. If any of them tried to push the issue, well, he wasn't able to kill them, not yet, but perhaps he'd stop to indulge himself while fleeing. It wasn't like the American police posed much of a risk to him. 

After a few seconds, the pushing and shoving opened a gap towards the agent, and Caspar seized the opportunity, his gauntlet blade sliding from his wrist as he ran forwards. It took him all of two seconds to tackle the person who he thought was the FBI officer, hopefully slamming into him. As he did so, Caspar pulled back his arm, the blade still protruding, and went to stab it through the sternum of the agent. While he was doing that, Caspar's mind jumped to what would happen. The blade would likely crack the bone as it went through, and would then puncture the left ventricle. Oxygenated blood would spurt from the gap, furthered by the man's own ventricular systole, and less of it would go round his body, leading to eventual brain death from oxygen starvation. Perhaps he would sever the Purkyne fibres, accelerating death. But either way, another blow would be needed if this one connected.

She watched the man speed up and approach. She sighed calmly as he made such an obvious mess. The more people he shoved and knocked out of the way the more memorable this was becoming. A good assassin would've either fired a simple bullet from a roof or even come up behind and sever the spine with a quick stab and it'd be game over. Or if you're going extra hiding, one syringe full of air to the neck. They'd think a mosquito bit them or something and have a heart attack. But no he was going for the brutish method, boring. She probably could've dropped him right away but the people being startled could help her. The wrist blade was cool, she'd give him that. As he tackled her she wrapped her legs around his waist and suddenly her chest was pierced by the blade. He was good, he knew anatomy. His stab would've been fatal, provided she could die. It did however temporarily slow her down. Meaning she reverted to her natural form, pale, no face and now with no clothes aside from her boots.

As he pulled back for the second strike she came back to life. She switched to her usual form and wearing a pair of tight black jeans, whip belt and a tank top. She grabbed him by the wrist and wrapped her legs around his arm. She could turn it into a triangle choke if she wanted, but he was not her target. Although after stabbing her she was heavily debating letting him live.

"Sorry dollface, but you're not my target."

She pulled a 9mm from her boot and saw her opening. She fired in a gap and only hit the target in the shoulder. They took off running and she groaned.

"See, this is why boys shouldn't be allowed in the assassin world, I don't care how cute you are."

She attempted to throw him to the side and roll away, going to chase the target. She had to get them. Sure someone had figured out HYDRA and she didn't care. But they were following trails that led to Julius, not an option. But now she had to deal with some over eager half assed assassin.

Caspar had been expecting this to be over quickly. He'd been expecting to tackle the agent, stab him through the heart and them, assuming he had time, stab him again to hasten his inevitable death. Perhaps through the eye as, contrary to popular belief, a person could live for several minutes after having their throat slashed. So it was much to his surprise when, instead of stiffening, and then perhaps spasming, his target changed form. The face wasn't an issue. Caspar, living on a HYDRA compound, had seen all manner of grotesqueries. Mutants, experiments, alien parasites and perhaps worse. So, while Caspar was surprised to see a faceless woman, it wasn't that which caused him to panic. No, apparently clothes had been part of her disguise, for when she changed form, she was naked. Caspar's hand was already pulled back for the second strike, but alarm and surprise flooded his brain and he stalled for a second. Mercifully the girl was wearing clothes by the time she stopped his strike and threw him to one side.

She moved to take off, but Caspar rolled from the throw and came to his feet again, and pulled out a handgun. All he knew now was that he had two targets. Not only was the girl interfering in his assassination, but she had insulted his skills while she did it. He was quick enough to see that contact take off, bleeding from an arm wound, and so resolved to kill the two of them. Perhaps the strange faceless girl was strong enough to survive her heart being ruptured, but a bullet to the brain would end her all the same. Cheeks still hot from the incident, he ran after her, firing three shots in her direction while he could. With his free hand, he pulled the hood over his head. The police were no threat to him, but as one of the sheep people had presumably called them, he could do without his face being known.

"Get back here!" He called, his German accent not helping his anonymity, but he didn't have the time to fake an American one. The crowd couldn't melt out the way fast enough, and he encountered very little resistance as he chased after the pair. The fools were making this a very easy chase. With the open space, Caspar raised his gun and fired all the shots in the clip except one. He didn't have time to reload, and it would be helpful to have one to fall back on. He only had to hope he'd wounded the girl.

With the would be assassin out of the way she turned her attention back towards the target. The guy had a fun little hidden blade, a blade that had likely ended many lives for sure. But still he was no threat to her or really anyone in Julius' group. She would figure out where he came from later. Once she'd killed the mark she'd get some answers from the little assassin boy...eventually. He looked like he could take some serious damage before giving up anything, fun. As she ran she heard him begin to open fire behind her. She did her best and listened to her training and began to move side to side. Yes she was small but a decent assassin could end her from where he was. She let out a laugh as she ran, waiting till she got closer. The target was slippery, impressive though. They were used to being on the run, however not from someone like her apparently.

"You're a terrible shot Boy Toy!"

She yelled behind her as the guy fired at her. She felt a few bullets here and there hitting her in the left shoulder and grazing her right thigh.

"I'm surprised you even managed to stab me while you were on top of me."

She said with a laugh. The target threw a few plates at a nearby bistro at them which she mostly avoided.

"I hear the tiramisu here is amazing."

She yelled as the target took a sharp left and began running down an alley. He was frantic and began knocking over garbage cans and anything else to slow them down. As she heard him yell she couldn't help but laugh at that again.

"Did you actually expect that to work Herr Boy Toy?"

She raised her gun to fire before feeling a bullet hit her in the back of the head, dropping her in a heap. It was basically the equivalent of her restarting. Luckily he'd missed the one spot above her spine which shut her down completely. It did however hurt like hell getting shot in the head.

With a groan she pulled herself up and went back to her true form. She spit the bullet out onto the asphalt and shook the cobwebs from her head. By now the other two were further ahead and she sighed. This would be tricky. But she also knew where he was likely going, his nearby safe house. He was going a round about way, hoping to lose them and keep the safe house safe. She could go a short cut and meet them half way there.

"I was gonna kill him, now he's gonna suffer for awhile, a long while."

It was quite possibly the most bizarre chase Caspar had ever participated in. He'd been on both sides of chases before, both from the police, from his parents, brother and HYDRA guards in his training, and also as the hunter. Even in his short time on the Serpent Squad, he'd run down and killed dozens, relishing in the power. Over the course of his childhood, he'd often been barely able to walk, let alone run, and his brother had only served to make him unable to do that on occassion. But now, with the raw power Kammi had given him, he was by far more than any man, and it was glorious. But this chase was different. He was split between killing the strange faceless girl and possibly wasting time on the contact, or going after the contact and leaving himself open to an attack from behind. He only had one bullet, not enough for one each.

It looked like emptying the clip had done the job, however. A bullet struck the strange girl from behind, in the head it seemed, and Caspar left her in the dust as he carried on after the target. She had taunted him and stolen at least one target from him, and had been in the process of stealing another. He didn't care if she was dead or merely injured. He'd eliminate the target, and then he'd come back and finish her off. He wouldn't have time to get creative, but he was confident, as tough as she seemed to be, that he could do the job. 

With that business concluded, Caspar increased his pace as he closed with the target. He was a fit man, there was no doubt, but he was almost a foot shorter than Caspar, with much shorter legs. A dustbin was kicked over, and Caspar almost failed to jump it. The contact was clearly trying to make up for his disadvantage. It just irked the assassin that he lacked the bullets to cripple him before killing him.

There were sirens in the distance, and Caspar knew that he had to end this. The only issue was closing with the man, who was deceptively good at escaping. For a second, it looked like the man had disappeared, but he had only taken a right that Caspar hadn't even seen, slamming a gate shut behind him. For the briefest of moments, Caspar evaluted his routes, and then hauled himself over the gate in a matter of seconds, leaping and overshooting his target just briefly, rolling as he hit the ground. Evidently it had been an attempt to lose his tailer, but seeing no other option, the man wrenched open a door Caspar hadn't even seen, and made to slam it after him.

It was poor luck, really, that he was being chased by somebody with the strength to grab a metal door and twist it so it would never shut again.
"Not quite," Caspar said, smiling almost pleasantly, "Almost, but not quite." He slammed the door into the man's face and, as he fell, followed him inside, leaving the door open.

She jumped through a window and began running through an apartment, before smashing through the door and eventually hitting the street. She hoped she was right as to where he was going but this seemed to make the most sense. Namely since the other ones were much further away. Chari was taking as many short cuts as she could. Running through a variety of alley ways and side streets she eventually ended up in the safe house's back yard. She took the form of a house cat and slipped through an open window. She rarely took the form of animals, since she didn't have their abilities. However she could move like a cat and no one paid much attention to a stray cat.

She moved through the kitchen just as she heard them some in the front door she knew she only had a few seconds before the German ended this guy. Yes she wanted him dead, but she also wanted his intel. Meaning she'd likely have to go and search the entire place for any information he had. She took her usual form and blew out the pilot lights on the stove and cranked the gas up. That meant no guns, even though she could probably survive it, but it's not something she felt like testing. She came out of the kitchen, Bowie knife in hand and smiled.

"About time you showed up Boy Toy."

She said with a smirk as she approached the downed target. She noticed the blood on his face, likely from a broken nose. Now he truly seemed terrified. She ignored Caspar and began searching the man's pockets before pulling out his cell phone and a flash drive. She began flipping through his contacts and messages and shook her head.

"You are the worst spy I've ever seen. You probably stumbled upon some secrets and now you're going to die for it...eventually."

She placed her foot on the man's throat and looked at Caspar, looking him up and down.

"Sorry Boy Toy, but he's mine. This is far more important than you could imagine. So whatever Nazi crap you think he stumbled onto can be forgotten. Now leave before his fate is the same as yours."

As the man fell into the safehouse, Caspar pulled out his gun. Only one shot left, it was true, so he'd have to make it quick, but it was enough to get the job done. Afterwards, he'd have to make his getaway quick. There were already sirens in the distance and while the last leg of their chase had been done without eyewitnesses, they'd left enough of a trail for it to be followed eventually, and Caspar didn't want to have to explain to Kammi exactly why he'd killed or crippled half of the "NYPD". Such a stupid name for the body that kept the populace in line.
"I am sorry for your discomfort," Caspar told the man, who was desperately pulling himself away from the assassin. Caspar dealt with that with a swift kick to the knee, snapping bone. The screams were unusually loud. What was the point of being a secret agent if you couldn't die like a man?

Spies and assassins were few of the people who had the potential to gain Caspar's respect. Even the American ones, if they did their jobs as living weapons well, had some merit to them. Not this man. This man was a pathetic waste of a position that could have gone to a more competent man. Still, Caspar's tone was polite as he continued to speak.
"You see, this is necessary," He said, "Certain topics, when explored, lead to unfavourable outcomes. Your work would appear to comprise several of these topics." He was referring to the earlier hitman - hitwoman, he'd dealt with.

Caspar turned his gun in his hand and pointed it to the head of the sniveling man.
"Now I'm sure you're about to tell me that you'll drop your work, or disappear, or become my man, if only I let you live," Caspar said, raising a hand to silence the man as he spoke. "But you see, those deals would all be well and good if I had any intention of let-" He paused as a smell hit him. Gas. Or rather, the chemicals added to the gas used in houses in order to inform an owner if they had a leak. Was this purely bad luck? Or had the man had the sense to break a gas pipe on his way in?

Even without a gun, it would be trivial to kill the agent, but Caspar froze as someone walked into the room. The hitwoman! She had survived several bullets to the back, somehow. But then again, she'd survived a puncture wound to her right ventricle earlier, perhaps he should have stopped to double-tap, as Americans put it. There was something to say in response to the woman, Caspar knew, but as she set to work, he couldn't remember for the very life of him what it was. He almost felt awkward and out of place as she set about searching the man, like he didn't belong.
"I will not," He told her, finally finding his voice as she demanded he give up his kill, "Fraulein, this man is HYDRA's. I do not need a gun to kill a woman. Especially one of your....kind." Of course, he didn't think poorly of all women. His mother and mother had been and were women of frightening competence. But they were exceptional, and one average hitwoman on her own, even an unusually tough one? Caspar felt like he could handle that.

Not to mention that his parents had taught him well. Which people were superior and which ones were dregs. He fit into the first, as did his family and every soldier of HYDRA. This assassin most definitely did not.

Chari knew she didn't have much time. Sure the German was weird but he was no slouch. Some people had hesitation when it came to killing, not him. Were this another situation he'd have her respect. But in this scenario she was surprised he was still alive. She was tempted to just shoot him and assume she survived the blast. However she was fairly certain the phone and flash drive wouldn't.

"Listen here Herr Boy Toy, the only reason you're still alive is because you intrigue me. However with your little snarks here and there, pretty soon I'll be feeding you your own bones."

She couldn't help but laugh though at him claiming the man for HYDRA. She eased off her foot for a second, letting the guy get some more air before pressing down again. Yes she could easily kill him right now, but that would be fast. She wanted to enjoy her time with him.

"HYDRA? Adorable. Now there is a truly terrible secret society. For starters everyone knows about them, kinda defeats the purpose. Then there's your stupid salute. I could keep this going if I really wanted but the police are nearly here. Think they'll fire into here or just send in some tear gas? Either way it could get messy for us."

The cops had to be no more than a block away. It was only a matter of time before they showed up and things got really bad.

"So either we sit here and argue and the police make things worse, we kill them too or we slip out the back with our target and settle this in a more quiet area. Personally I'm not above blowing everything up and just seeing who survives, but my sanity can be...questionable at times."

Caspar bristled slightly at the threat. Perhaps it was a result of his years at Johann's mercy, but he didn't like threats. It wasn't like he was afraid of being harmed - the very thought of it was laughable, but they filled him with a rage like few things did. People insulting HYDRA or threatening Kammi, perhaps. While he was prone to annoyance and frustration as often as most people on a job, he rarely did it out of anger. He was usually more composed than that. 
"There will be no feeding of bones, Fraulein," He snapped, the words twisting his German accent to sound more bitter than usual. 

Still, he could recognise something of himself in the woman as she allowed their mutual target relief - some physical but a great amount emotional - before dashing it instantly with her foot back on his windpipe. It would seem that, like him, this girl was professional and calculated about her actions, but she enjoyed to play somewhat. The spark of sadism lay within her eyes. He recognised it well. There was no amount of similarity, however, that would make him permit a direct insult of HYDRA. Generations of his family had gone into founding and preserving the organisation, making it great, and he would not accept near sub-human people to mock it.
"You will please watch your tongue," He said, speaking the idiom as if it were another language entirely from the American, "Or I will tear it from you." If she could survive death, it would not surprise him if she could regrow a tongue as well. At the very least, however, it might silence her for some time.

Caspar knew she was right about the police, however. They could not be far, and while he had little to fear from them, if he was recognised it could prove bad. Even with the mask, he could not deny that if too many reports cropped up of a tall German at murder scenes, even an American might be able to make the pattern.
"Then we shall leave presently," He told her, keeping his gun with one bullet trained on her. "But, while we may have some fun, this man is not to live long. He has been irksome, and it is fitting that his last moments on this earth are unpleasant, but he should not have too many moments left." It was a somewhat clumsy way of phrasing it, he knew, and that irked him. He loathed to think that an American could do something as simple as crafting a phrase better than him.

Somewhat roughly, Caspar attempted to shove the woman aside, purely so he could grab the man by his collar.
"Out the back," He snapped, "The police will be wary of the gas, it will give us time to find a secluded spot and see what we are to do with this coward."

"Well it is still early, let's not take anything off the table Boy Toy."

She said with a smirk and a wink in regard to him mentioning there would be no one feeding someone their own bones. Yes she wasn't taking it serious, at least to first appearance, and was making jokes but that was far from what was happening. She was trying to keep him on edge, keep him moving mentally while also appearing to diminish herself in appearance. It was a simple way to better learn about someone and how to read them. So far he seemed smart. He was keeping her at a distance, recognizing a threat when he saw one.

"Tearing my tongue out? Well I do enjoy some mild foreplay from time to time but perhaps now is not the best time. I am free tonight however."

She said with a laugh. She was actually enjoying this back and forth. It wasn't often she met someone as cold blooded as her. If this kept up and it came out he had a girlfriend Chari would truly pity her. No one told Chari no, with the exception of Julius.

"We may not agree on a lot Boy Toy. The best country, preferred firearm, ideal blade, favorite How I Met Your Mother character, but on this, we agree. He will die, and his last moments will be truly terrible. Now let's..."

She was cut off as he roughly shoved her aside and began dragging the man away. She smirked and crossed her arms before beginning to follow. She whistled calmly as she heard the squad cars begin turning the corner. By now the gas was filling a lot of the first floor, should be good for a decent explosion.

"I do love a man who simply takes what he wants. Well within reason of course."

She said with a smirk. She was still just mostly playing with the guy, trying to see what he was made of.

"We'll need a car. I know of a place a couple miles from here. An abandoned factory, lots of fun things to play with. I usually grab some homeless people from there for experiments."

Caspar wasn't entirely sure exactly what the girl was trying to hint at with her words, but he was starting to think she was trying to flirt with him. Boy Toy was evidently trying to indicate that he was some sort of plaything of hers, which made him bristle, but the way she was saying it, in addition to everything else, made it seem somehow sexual. But she was merging it with such violent imagery. Was this a girl who found enjoyment in being maimed and hurt? He found particular joy in causing harm himself, but the thought of doing it to this girl and her enjoying it left him feeling somehow....unclean. It seemed that she was trying to indicate that perhaps they would do something she enjoyed later on, but with this girl, it seemed like it could mean sex or finding somebody to butcher. She really did confuse Caspar like nobody he'd met before.

He felt his cheeks heating as the girl continued to speak, which infuriated him. She had no right to make him feel uncomfortable, a girl of her type. 
"Later tonight I will be gone and you will be doing whatever amuses you," He told her in a quiet voice, "And if your tongue being torn out intrigues you, I will make a point to leave it intact, whatever I do to you." He was trying to make a point there, but his own unsureness combined with his somewhat lacking grasp of the subtleties of the English language might have somewhat marred his intent. But still, a part of him hoped whatever he said continued to amuse her. Or frighten her, as unlikely as that seemed now.

The body weighed almost nothing to him, and he lugged it without effort, until he stopped in response to her words.
"The fatherland, a Mauser, these," He twisted his arm, releasing the blade on his free hand, and then his next words were quiet, "Robin Scherbatsky is Canadian, and the Canadians are a great people. The Fuhrer himself held them in high regard." It was something of a shame of his, but she didn't need to know that. "But yes, he will die, and he will not enjoy his last moments. I'm not altogether sure both of us should enjoy his last moments either." He tried to project a threat into that sentence there. 

"I wouldn't assume someone as limited as one of your kind knows how to hotwire a car," He told her, stumbling over his own slightly awkward phrasing, "So if you find me a suitable one I shall do it myself, Fraulein." It was one of the many things he'd learnt as a child, and a skill he put into practical use more and more these days. "But if this warehouse is a trap, I will ensure my revenge is long and painful."

She felt like she had him on the ropes. She figured he didn't really encounter women like her, then again most didn't. After all she was a sort of rarity. Sure a beautiful woman into strange things? Yeah they existed, the internet was filled with that. But a beautiful woman who enjoys experiencing and giving pain? That was a rarity. She actually had some connections to a few particular women particularly Irma Grese, the Hyena of Auschwitz. She however refused to acknowledge the similarity. Sure she may be evil, cruel and downright terrible, but she was adamant that she wasn't like the Nazis, despite the obvious similarities.

"Keep my tongue in tact? Oh you are such a tease Boy Toy."

She said with a smirk. As they debated countries and favorites and so forth she raised an eyebrow. She'd mostly been joking about the How I Met Your Mother part but he had a little secret.

"Ugh, I knew I never liked Canada."

Yes she didn't like the Nazis, so there was that. But the man who'd created her had been Canadian and he was a terrible man. Of course he was a true father to her in every sense of the word. It was a shame she'd killed him, he could've proven useful down the road. Oh well, the impatience of youth.

"Hmm, predictable, mostly. I would go Australia, .38 snubnose revolver, a tie between a Bowie knife and a scalpel and Lily. She was sweet, cute, innocent but she could also destroy you if pushed to the right place. Personally I felt the finale was bullshit and that Robin should've stayed with Barney. Well until they ruined Barney."

She raised an eyebrow as he mentioned them not enjoying the man's last moments. He was so sweet and adorable. Sure he was tough and there was a cruelness underneath, but he hid it. Someone had told him it was bad long ago and he locked it away. Shame, he could be so fun.

"This is your last warning Boy Toy. Don't ever assume anything about me. I am far more capable than someone of your limited skill set could possibly fathom. But if I ever need to commit genocide, I'll give you a call. Stay here, I'll get the car."

She said walking away mumbling under her breath before shifting into a cat and slipping under a fence.

"sh...she's gone. Maybe we can come to an agreement."

There was the sound of tires screeching and suddenly she came to a stop in front of him. The driver side window was shattered and blood had dripped down the side of the door.

"Good news Boy Toy, I found one someone had left running. Silly people."

Caspar had made the resolution that if ever met anyone like this girl again, he was to kill them on site. Yes, it had proved awkward and difficult with her, but he was sure there was a way. A sweet spot. And, if he got the leisure, perhaps he'd take her apart piece by piece to find it. Unless she'd enjoy that. In which case he'd probably tip her into an incinerator and be done with it. A pity, yes, to be deprived of something both intriguing and enjoyable, but it sounded much less embarrassing than her telling him where he should be cutting next, or whatever she'd do. 

He remained resolutely silent at both her seemingly flirtatious comment and the joke, he was assuming, about the show. He had only seen bits, and all the characters were vapid, stupid Americans, other than Robin. Perhaps she was mildly entertaining, but he didn't really know. Could he be sure she was flirting? His interactions of that sort were....limited, to say the least. But why? They were on a job. A job they both apparently enjoyed, yes, but there was something to be said for dignity and professionalism. 

There was a noticeable tightening of Caspar's jaw as the woman walked away. She had dared to insult him. Her. A barely human, job-stealing assassin? The urge to chastise her strongly for her words was growing. Perhaps he could not kill her, but if he were to remove some of her organs, perhaps, she might have a bad time of it. He looked down as the man tried to bargain, and stepped harshly on his wrist.
"The only deal we will have is one where you tell me everything you know and I stop torturing you, sir," He informed the man helpfully, "I hope you find this agreeable." He shifted his weight, and there was a scream and a crunch of bone. 

The sound of the car reached him quickly, and he looked up as the clearly violently commandeered vehicle came to view.
"I take it you made the owners an offer they couldn't refuse?" He asked her as he lifted the man bodily and threw him into the backseat. He then reached in through the woman's window and activated the backdoor locks.
"I'd hate for this to become unpleasant just yet," He said, sliding into the passenger seat. He then turned to the girl. "Insult me again and the last thing you will ever see is my knife going into your eyes," He threatened quietly. "Now, tell me your name."