In the neat office, Pete Allison was sitting in his light blue jacket and red tie. The Emblem of DynCorp on the right side of his chest. He was looking out on the rain that was poring down all 104 floors to the darkness. He never ever notice the darkness anymore, it was just there. He cards in his hands was been reshuffled again and again and his mind was racing toward Rachel, the little bartender on 73 floor that he was sweet talking into going home with him. He smiled, it was such a easy game and it was so easy to get her all with his looks and of course power.<br/><br/>A little beep on his chest sounded and he slowly turned around and pressed the button to the intercom to his secretary:<br/>"<strong>Yes?</strong>" he almost snarled.<br/>"<strong>Mr. Black is here to see you sir.</strong>" came the metallic voice of his secretary. Pete sighted<br/>"<strong>Let him enter!</strong>" he sad heavily, another problem was the words that raced through his human head.<br/><br/>The man that was called Mr. Black was not a man, but a heavily muscled dwarf, old battle scars made a crisscross pattern over his face and he his left eye was a replaced with a black metallic one.<br/><br/>"<strong>Mr. Allison we have a situation that needs taken care of.</strong>" the dwarf was never rude and he never seamed to show any emotions, at least not what Pete had noticed.<br/>"<strong>It seems that our little informer had turned on us and we need to take care of that problem ASAP sir.</strong>" Pete hated these kinds of small problems, so he just turned around his chair and looked out the window turning his back towards the dwarf.<br/>"<strong>Then take care of it, I don't care how just do it. If he can't keep his tongue, I want it here in a little purple box.</strong>" he turned the chair around again, just so he should see the dwarf out of the corner of the eye.<br/>"<strong>Use some runners, we don't want anyone to look at DynCorp as a troublemaker.</strong>" with a small twist he turned back to look out the window and said.<br/>"<strong>Music, let me hear some nice romantic tunes.</strong>" immediately music filled the room. Mr Black thought he recognized the tunes as some 20th century music, not that he knew stuff like that. It wasn’t because of his music skills that DynCorp paid his pay checks. Mr. Black bowed and left the room, very silently so he wouldn’t disturb the music.<br/>