When Catalina walked into her office, she was startled to see Oriana already reclining on the sofa. The young Italian assassin opened her mouth to speak, but Catalina stopped her with an imperious finger.

"No. Not until coffee."

A few minutes later, cupping the warmth in her hands and inhaling the aroma, Catalina lowered herself into the chair behind her desk.

"Now... go ahead. But start with how you're up so early."

"I'm not. The opposite, really, just out late. I was wondering if you could do me a favor. I found a bounty, not nearly as lucrative as my previous one, but it has the added bonus of not being on someone you work with. I checked. Also, I'm checking with you now. Target's name is Jean Travers; he's a mid-sized drug runner. Generally stays away from coke and heroin so he doesn't wind up competing against... well... you. He mostly moves barbs, morphine, the occasional shipment of amphetamines. He's not competition, and he doesn't bring in so much money that he'd be a great asset. He pissed somebody off, though, and he wound up on the hitlist."

Oriana shrugged.

"The problem is, guy's a ghost. He's only in the city for a few hours at a time: Shows up, sells, buys, and he's gone. Except I have a friend who mentioned a potential business deal Travers is involved in that going to take place this weekend here in the city. Some sort of exclusive party in the Upper East Side. I figure with your society connections you could get us in? There's too much money involved for him to not show. If you can get us in there, I'll split it with you?"

Catalina's face remained blank as Oriana spoke. When she mentioned a 'friend' with information, her brow crinkled slightly. She caught herself and forced it to relax. She did not own this woman, and the connections she established were ultimately her own concern, whether they be business, or pleasure. 

"Yes. I can do this. Give me everything you have... date, host? I'm going to assume I don't know these people, I've simply not been here long enough. But I'm sure I know someone who does. Also," she said, pausing to sip coffee, then continued.

"Any monies gained. They go to you. You are very good at what you do, Oriana, but you need protection. I insist. Use them as chauffeurs or coat racks or boot polishers, I don't care. You're one of the largest assets to this organization, and beyond that," she shrugged, "there is the matter of appearances."

Oriana shrugged, but she was smirking when she leaned back.

"If you insist, boss. And I don't know too many more details. I just know the party is this weekend, almost certainly Saturday, and tehe guy throwing it is a stockbrocker- and he's famous for throwing these things- usually rents out a couple floors in a hotel and spends an insane amount of money. It shouldn't be too hard to get a name from someone in the financial world. I could go handle that, if you want. Or you could come with, if the office isn't so appealing today. Up to you, of course."

"Financial, you say? Let's see."

Catalina turned and picked up the desk phone. When the operator asked how the call should be directed, Catalina disappeared. 

She'd been practicing.

"First Financial, please," she said smoothly, her voice now devoid of any Spanish accent whatsoever. 

"Yes, your manager, I absolutely must speak to him," she said, once the call had been put through. She watched Oriana as she spoke.

"Ha ha, good day, Mister Fletcher! It's Ginny, we met on the island last summer. You're wife... Yes! Linda. Stunning woman. Listen dear, that party is coming this weekend, I need to fetch the pearls from the safe deposit. What is that cad's name again? Jim? George? Michael! Oh, I was way off on that one... stockbrokers, they're all the same... Oops! Ha ha don't tell him I said that! You close at 4 today? Oh, 5, of course. Silly me, I'd lose my head if it wasn't attached! Well thank you darling, I'll be seeing you!"

With a satisfactory smile, Catalina hung up. "First try. I was prepared to go down the whole list. Must be a large party," she said, throwing a heeled foot onto the desk.

"Michael Sebring."

Oriana grinned.

"When you're lucky, you're lucky. Or good. Do you own a mask? If not, I know a store where you can get one- has a lot of imports from Venice."

She sighed.

"Think I might need to get a new dress as well. Let's meet in front of the party at 8?"

By 7:30, Catalina had arrived at the hotel... in disguise of course. Two guards had come with her, also dressed for the masquerade, but the pair had been instructed to keep their distance.

By 7:45, she'd walked the hotel and gotten the layout down in her head. The floors that had been rented were the top one, and the one directly underneath. Most of the revellers would be celebrating on the balconies of the penthouse that took up most of the top floor. Caterers had set up buffet tables along the walls of nearly every room, and furniture had been moved around in a semi-circular pattern to accommodate a small band and makeshift dance floor.

At 8, Catalina made her way back down to the first floor and waited. Her hair had been left long, and the dress and mask she wore were a sequined blue. She'd left Oriana a note on her desk informing her of what she'd be wearing, so it was just a matter of time before her Right Hand spotted her.

Oriana was usually attired for action; even if she wore fashionable pants, blouses, and boots, she was still ready to sprint at a moment's notice. Infiltration, however, was a different story. Despite the masks, Catalina recognized her immediately by the way she moved through the crowd. Oriana was wearing a black cocktail dress that seemed to straddle the line between brash and elegant. She wore an ornate purple mask- a pale imitation of the ones she'd seen during Carnivale in Venice. Oriana approached Catalina with a sigh.

"I hate these things. There's a VIP area with heavier security. Sebring mingles, but he always heads back there. I assume that's where the target will be, but I haven't spotted him yet."

She smirked.

"Can I get you a drink? And how are you feeling? Sven mentioned you've been under the weather recently."

"Wine would be nice. Must look the part, no? And I'm feeling much better, thank you. The flying... it never bothered me before, but it seems to now. Perhaps I'm getting old," she smirked, the red lips behind the mask curling up on one side. One of the bars had been set up just to their right, and they walked slowly to it, both sets of their eyes scanning the room as they moved.

"So. How should we approach this? Drunken revellers looking for the restroom? We flirt with the security?" Catalina asked quietly after they'd been handed two glasses of Pinot.

"First thing's first, then."

Oriana clinked her glass against Catalina's and sampled the wine. Pretty good- not surprising considering the wealth of their host.

"I figure we can take a leisurely stroll around the place first. Make sure we've got a good idea of security, see where all the exits are... my guess is that we've got at least an hour or two before Travers splits, possibly more, so it's probably wise to twenty to make sure we don't miss something."

Oriana shrugged.

"Besides, it'll give us a chance to talk. Things have been so crazy in the last week, I feel like we've barely crossed paths. I'm off to a good start, myself. I found a place to stay that's above a bar. I like places that are open all night- makes it harder for someone to sneak up on me without someone seeing. You'll have to come by for a drink, sometime. It's a real shithole of a place, but it's got character."

The two women drifted through the crowd, eyes scanning for information- and appetizers.

"I think I've smoothed things over, mostly, with the Mastrosimones. Haven't talked with Billy at all since the night of the meeting, but I don't expect he'll ever be a fan of mine. Aurora, I think I mostly won over. I did the favor they mentioned, trying to make things up to their daughter, Tara. And then... well, I put my foot in my mouth again. Pissed off Aurora so much that I almost got tossed from her office, but I fixed it. I'll be training Tara now, which should help keep me in the good books."

Oriana's fingers shot out and snatched a small bacon-wrapped scallop, which she popped into her mouth. Her eyes widened slightly and her hand darted out again to get one for Catalina.

"These are great. Anyways, that's what I've been up to, mostly. Spent a lot of time traveling to get some business done, but I should be mostly in the city from here on out. And I wouldn't blame your age for anything- I'm getting sick of flying, myself. And besides, I know it's a faux pas to bring it up, but you can't be that old. Surely not more than... 30?"

Catalina laughed, her hand covering her mouth while she tried to swallow the scallop before she choked on it.

"A few over 30, but thank you. Flattery gets you everywhere," she said behind the mask, which didn't hide the little sparkle in her eye. She surveyed the room once more as she drank from her wineglass, then continued to speak, but the tone had changed.

"This training you're doing... you have time for it? You can do anything you wish with your free time, but I hope you're being compensated for it. That business should be settled. You're not an indentured slave," she said quietly, but there was a note of ferocity in it. Oriana was her Right Hand, not a babysitter.

"Your... 'shithole' sounds interesting, I'd love to-" Her hand reached out and touched Oriana's arm as the host himself, Michael Sebring, waltzed across the room, snapping orders at the quartet to 'hurry the fuck up and start, already'. Catalina sighed. 

"A real charmer, that one," she muttered as they began to move.

"Flattery gets you everywhere." 

Oriana smirked.

"Plenty of time for training, and I'll be well compensated. I would have made a fortune off it, except I lost a roulette spin to Aurora. Anyways, I'll settle for a small fortune and improving relations."

She watched from behind her mask as their host moved through the crowd like a hurricane. Oriana nodded, agreeing with Catalina's assessment of the man. The two woman trailed behind casually, keeping an eye on Sebring.

"So how'd you get involved in the business, Cat? Born into it? Or did you acquire the taste on your own?"

"Born into it. The drug business, that is. My family produces the highest quality cocaine New York has ever seen. Small estate, we deal in quality, not quantity. I still make more money than any importer in the city, easily. It helps that my grandfather has government ties in Madrid," she said quietly as they walked. Another tray of scallops came their way, and they both grabbed a few.

"These cannot be good for you," Catalina murmured as she nibbled on the bacon wrap. "And you? You're a mystery wrapped in an enigma wrapped in a riddle. Are you allowed to tell me anything beyond what I know? Or would you have to kill me afterwards?" She smiled, using her teeth to pull the scallop off of the toothpick slowly.

"I imagine a family like that is quite helpful. Sounds like you could probably retire to the family villa or whatever. So why risk it all here in New York? What's the goal?"

Her eyes shifted over to Catalina, curious.

"I don't really talk about my past. Lots of shit. But..."

Oriana frowned.

"... you're my handler. My boss. You deserve to know- or at least some of it. I'll tell you what: let me grab this guy, and get me drunk after this. That'll make it a little easier for me to talk about things."

She sighed.

"I'm actually kind of a lightweight. Don't tell anyone."

As she spoke, the women noticed Sebring headed to the VIP area and Oriana suddenly flipped a switch; she was all business.

"Alright," said Oriana, "got the exits scoped out. Time to get in there and get Travers alone. Or..."

She furrowed her brow.

"I'm a bit torn between trying to sneak in and do things quietly or to cause some big distraction and take advantage of it. Could always get in there to take a look, I suppose. I'll take him quietly if I can. Flash one finger for that. Otherwise, I might need you to cause a distraction- I saw a few fire extinguishers, fire alarms, anything else you can think of- and get out of Dodge, have the car ready out back- two fingers for that one."

"Either way, you signal me if you see an opening. I'll do the same. And that might be our ticket in."

Oriana pointed to an overweight, bearded man headed toward the VIP section. His face was flushed, and he'd obviously been drinking.

Catalina followed Oriana's lead. Wordlessly, they each snugged up on a side of the overweight partygoer, suddenly his best friends.

"You don't mind, do you, Handsome? We've been just dying to see what you boys have been up to here in the VIP section!" Catalina purred, all trace of her accent gone. 

"Oh! Well... I..."

"Tiffany here said it wouldn't be any fun in here, just a bunch of stuffy old men smoking cigars and talking about stocks. See, I told you Tiff, this fella here knows how to have a good time, don't you, Handsome?"

She'd gambled that he didn't have a companion, and she'd lucked out. Catalina continued talking at the man in a flirtatious babble as Oriana excused herself to find them more drinks.

Watching her Right Hand slip through the crowded lounge area over the fat man's shoulder, she hoped their luck continued to hold.

Oriana raised an eyebrow behind the man's back; Cat had dropped her accent like she'd had the same ten years of training that Oriana had. Or at least a lot of practice. And that didn't seem to be the only skill Cat had picked up; within a minute, she had the man wrapped around her finger. Granted, he was drunk enough that he might have wrapped himself around a mailbox just for the company, but Cat still worked him like an expert. Oriana had expected to take the lead as she had for most of her life, but instead found herself playing the shy friend, demurely smiling and balancing excitement and reticence. She didn't mind the change; it gave her more time to keep an eye out. 

Within a few minutes, they were in the VIP area. Security was paying a lot of attention to who walked in, but it was almost all outward-facing. Once you were in, you were in. They soon found themselves on the party's main balcony, standing against the railing on the side. Sebring was making the rounds in the center and there, on the other side, was their target: Jean Travers.

Oriana grinned and leaned in to murmur in Cat's ear.

"Seems too crowded out here. We'll keep an eye out, but I think the best move is waiting until he goes to the bathroom and trying to hit him there. When I follow him to the bathroom, come with and keep anyone from going in after us?"

She giggled, as if she'd been whispering Cat a secret- which, in a way, she supposed she had.

Enduring twenty minutes of sweaty-handed pawing wasn't the worst thing Catalina had had to do, but it wasn't exactly fun, and drinking perhaps a bit too quickly as excuses to continuously get away from the man was not the wisest choice. 

Keeping an eye on Oriana and Travers was easier. Travers was unremarkable in nearly every way. How Oriana could tell him apart from the rest of the men in attendance was frankly beyond her. She was certain every man here used the same tailor and visited the same barber. Oriana, on the other hand, was simply a vision in black, all eloquent grace and subtle flirtation as she worked the mark. When the two finally walked down the hallway together towards the restroom, Catalina set her glass down on a nearby table. It wobbled and thumped quietly to the thick carpet underneath as she followed.

The hallway silenced almost all sounds from the party. Catalina steadied herself with a hand on the wall as she moved down it, then stopped at the door.

​​​​​​Dead silence. Was that good, or bad? Her hand touched the handle, then let go. She'd been told to wait, stand guard. Fidgeting now, Catalina bit her lip.

Oriana was in the middle of mentally calling Travers a god-damned camel when the man finally decided to head to the bathroom. She'd been standing where she could see both Travers and Catalina, who was enduring their companion. When Travers finally made his move, it set off a chain reaction: Oriana followed him, and Catalina followed her. 

The hallway killed the noise from the party, so Oriana waited for Travers to turn into the men's room before picking up the pace. She entered the men's room cautiously, unable to completely hide the sound of her heels on the floor. Didn't seem to be anyone else in here, and Traver's wasn't... must be in one of the stalls. Oriana reached the the knife taped to her thigh and ripped off the tape with a grimace. With her knife in her hand she kicked off her shoes and moved silently over toward the stalls- only to have it kicked open and connect with the side of her face. 

Wincing, she found herself knocked back to the sink, with Travers about to rush at her. Oriana moved first; a slash with the knife forced him to dodge backwards, and she launched herself into the stall after him.

The next twenty seconds were chaos. In the small, enclosed space, it was impossible to dodge. Traver's couldn't dodge the knife- but she couldn't dodge his punches, either. Two in the ribs hurt, but the one on the same side of the head where the door had hit her almost knocked her out. She jumped on Travers, wrapping her legs and her left arm around him as the knife flashed in her right. He tried ramming he back against the sides of the wall, but as he seemed to try to run her out to the mirror, his wounds caught up with him and he dropped; Oriana dropped with him. Breathing heavily, she looked down at Travers. Exerting herself much more than her wounded body wanted, she managed to leverage him up to a sitting position on the toilet. Then, using her knife, she cut off Travers' thumb and slipped it into her bra.

Someone really should invent formal dresses with pockets...

Leaving Travers on the toilet, Oriana slid under the door of the stall. She needed to bail, before she got caught with the body. Her dress was stained with blood, but it was only obvious if you got close and looked. That's why she wore black in the first place. Her skin, though...

She quickly grabbed paper towels and wiped off as much of the blood as possible from her face. Still had trace amounts on her hair.. and fuck, that bruise was starting to look bad. Oriana quickly fixed her hair so that her left eye was covered. Not her favorite look, but at least it covered some of the bruising. 

Exiting with the knife behind her back, she practically ran into Cat.

"Done. Do I look clean enough to walk out? Do I have to steal someone else's dress? Or do I have to try to get into a hotel room or something to fix this?"

"Well, I-"

"What on earth is going on here?! Is that... is that blood??" Spat out a displeased female voice from behind them. Catalina turned and eyed the newcomer quickly. High-society type, with arrogance wafting off of her like an offensive perfume. Catalina sized her up quickly- the woman seemed more concerned that someone would dare soil their gown at a function she was attending than of the fact that it was actually blood on Oriana's dress. 

She was also almost exactly Oriana's height and dress size.

Catalina took a long stride backwards, lifted her arm, and elbowed the woman directly in the face. There was a squawk, a wheeze, and a thump that followed. When Catalina turned around, she looked down at the heap on the floor.

"I did not think that that would actually work," she said, then laughed. "Come on, lets get her into the bathroom before another snooty broad arrives. They seem to travel in pairs," she said, leaning down to lift the woman's arms. Oriana grabbed her feet, and through the bathroom with her they went. 

"No lock on this door, we need to hurry," she said, kneeling down to find the woman's zipper. "Careful, don't smear her blood on this dress, too," she added with a smirk.

In a normal situation, stripping for her boss would have brought back a torrent of negative memories. This, however, was far from a normal situation; as she had so many times in her previous life and this one, Oriana focused on her mission. As soon as they got the woman in the bathroom, Ori wriggled out of her dress like an eel and tossed it in the trash. By that time, Cat had unzipped the other woman's dress and dragged it off her. They deposited the semi conscious woman on the toilet, and Ori quickly put on the new dress.

"Zip me?"

Catalina did so with a smirk, then used a paper towel to wipe some blood out of Ori's hair.

"Good enough for now. Let's get out of here, quick."

Checking that Travers' thumb was still where she'd left it, Oriana followed Cat out of the bathroom, down the elevator, and out into the night.