Investigatory project. (Keyla Cross)

[Uriel Mikhail]

You are Uriel. The Alpha among the assassins, the fastest, strongest and smartest among them. You are great. You won't let some Mossad Agent get the best of you. You are one of Russia's finest! The left hook Uriel landed at the punching bag caused it to get pushed back. His hand , wrapped in a white bandage. The assassin jumped, his feet lightly brushing at the floor as he kept on switching from left foot to right foot. The determination on his face was apparent. he felt his anger dwelling up as he once more continued speaking in his mind.

You are to focus, no more extravagant operations. They are demoting you to a weakling. You are not a weakling. You are a weapon for Mother Russia. And a weapon needs ot keep his rage in check! You will not punch a guy's head off his torso. Nor will you burn a guy to crisps. Remember what your master told you about your temper! Instead of weakening, Uriel could feel his punches getting stronger as each of his problems were intercepted in his punches. he could feel the bag swing harder after his punch. His rage was just exploding, his punches got faster and stronger. He'd give Manny Pacquiao a run for his money. The bag swung after his left hook. And instead of preceding it with another punch, he felt his whole body tense in anger. He could see the faces of his enemies in the bag. And he couldn't help himself. he jumped up, swinging his foot in an arc as the bag descended , it was visibly beaten up. a huge "SPLASH!" Was enough to make the conclusion that the bag fell down to the side, almost ripped in half.

He was beaten, angered.He could feel his anger slowly dissuading as he let it out on the poor bag, thousands of flattened pieces and a huge gash on the middle cause of his kick. Uriel panted, feeling his chest rise up and down as his stomach muscles tightened. . His eyes looked around. He could feel it. Uriel shook the thought of the anger dwelling in him. And instead sat back down. He closed his eyes. Mikhail hated the fact that everything thrown in his ways were problems lately. Pursued by a Mossad agent, the ball, and Oceaniana. Sometimes, he could classify his soft heartedness for pretty little women as a weakness. He was supposedly going to be a fake father. And what of his woman, Sapphire? Is it going to be over since he needs to take the responsibility of fatherhood just cause? He had half a mind to bust a bullet on to her stomach and hit her over the head so she'd forget about her baby. But alas, she wants to keep it. Uriel crossed his arms and stared at space, up until he heard his phone ring.

Raising ab row, Uriel grabbed the phone and saw the blocked number and the text message "LIBRARY. PHOTOGRAPHS AND DOCUMENTS THERE." Grabbing the phone and texting back, he replied

"God bless."

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Walking in front of the table, Uriel's eyes scanned the room under the aviators. Up until he noticed a distinct brown folder. Two actually. Right at a far off table. Walking towards the table, he pulled a chair off and sat at the table. Grabbing the envelope and opening it, taking out a few pictures . The guy looked like he was in his mid fourties and all that. While the document identified him as "Nik Kovoloz." Interesting. Shoving hte pictures and document back in the folder, Uriel opened the smaller one, and what do you know, cash. A smile crept on his lips as he began to take the cash out. But a familiar figure came to view. Putting the cash back in and tossing the brown envelope at th e side, he crossed his legs and raised a brow.

[Admin Sydnee]

She'd followed him. Okay, so Keyla knew it was wrong. You don't follow practically complete strangers, especially ones that seem dangerous, but Keyla wasn't really one to listen to that inner voice she had. She knew it was there at least, but she threw everything to the wind when she wanted to know something. She was flattened against a wall, hearing the sounds of Uriel Mikhail, an older RUSSIAN boy from Veritas that she'd heard about from Byron at the ball., furiously hitting a punching bag. She'd seen what he'd done. Hadn't everyone? Why didn't he get punished for it? Why was he allowed to do whatever he wanted? Even at Veritas there was rules.

He seemed to be letting out a lot of bottled up anger, or stress. At what, she wasn't sure. Maybe he was just an angry person, but she hated how he'd treated her like a little girl. So what if she was a freshman? That didn't matter. She was cunning and clever and actually quite sneaky. Being short and light on her feet helped, although her red hair didn't.

She figured that he'd just been going to the public library in Cranbrook for his own amusement, perhaps to read as she sometimes did. But somehow, she couldn't picture him curling up on an armchair with a classic novel.

She flinched when she heard the punching bag hit the ground and then after letting out his seemingly insurmountable rage on the bag, he slumped back in a chair. Shortly after, his phone sounded and he tapped some keys before crossing to a table with a folder on it. Her eyes narrowed as she watched him, wondering what the hell he was doing. She began to see the green of cash and stepped out from behind the wall, confidence in her step.

She crossed her arms, glowering at him as he put the cash back in the bag, finally noticing her. He only sat back in his chair and crossed his legs, as if waiting for her to say something. He did not yell at her for following him, or anything of the sort. He just sat there.

And that made Keyla angry.

"I see you murdered the punching bag," she said, gesturing to the torn material on the floor. "I guess I should be glad it wasn't an actual person you were destroying, huh?" She raised an eyebrow in return, wondering just how dangerous he really was and also wondering why she was willing to test it.

"What's with the cash?"