The vicious curs that had been responsible for destroying vast cities were collaborating deep beneath Europe underground. They had confined themselves to the grottos deep under the earth where the temperature was cold and their clothing would keep them warm despite the temperature. All of the members had their faces masked. Not even their fearless leader knew anyone in the group, so anyone within the organization could be a traitor and not know it.
"What's our motive this time ?" one of the henchmen questioned, facing the leader, who was of stocky build. The younger henchmen paled in comparison in size to him and was probably the youngest member of the group. He had a submachine gun draped behind his back, and a starry-eyed look to him.
"What it always is, dumkoff. Do I have to explain everything to you morons ? As usual, we will cipher money from world banks. Gold is going up and using that to fund our 'Operation: Cut-Throat', we'll be the richest thugs in the history of mankind. All we have to do is use destructive force. The people that get in our way, mere casualties. We're just taking care of what nature can't do herself, it's only logical," the leader said.
Just then, his second in command walked up behind him. His code name was Cobra. He was dressed in a black ninja attire complete with a black bandana on his head. There was also a small splatter of blood on his face. "Sir," he said, bowing.
"Ah, back so soon? Fashionably late as usual I see.", the German commander responded with a sly grin.
"They're all dead, just like the last ones that you sent to fight me." Cobra then sighed. "Is there not an opponent worthy to stand more than twenty seconds against my blade?"
The others, muttering amongst themselves, dared not to challenge him. Not even the more impulsive members of the syndicate wanted to take that death sentence.
"So boring to kill so many people so quickly…without even scratching me."
The commander was at a loss for words, unable to think of a response. He shrugged, going back to his blueprints for Operation Cut-Throat
"Whats our next target sir?"
"The Beijing Olympics.", the commander sneered, his blue eyes manic. His lust for power was palpable.
"Why?" asked Cobra.
"Why not ? Do you realize how many souls will be there ? The vermin of the Earth will flock and be ripe for the plucking if you get my meaning, my friend.", the German chuckled in the back of his throat.
"How much do you think they'll pay us?"
"Pay? To live? Trillions, possibly more. But it won't matter...They'll all die. We escape, Scott free...Doubtful anyone can stop us."
Cobra shook his head. "What's the point of killing someone if they won't fight back?" He then walked away to 'practice' some more.
The Commander shook his head wearily. Sometimes he wondered whatever went through the assassin's mind but rubbed his hands together greedily. He summoned the other henchmen around him, explaining which of them would be responsible for what duty.