Out of the pan...into the fire

So day one out of official field training sees me in The Director's office at three fucking AM. Graduating top of my class as a SIN (Synthesized Investigative Neutral- a type of gentically enhanced mercenary) officer candidate is starting to seem less prestigious by the second. I shoulda know some shit like this would happen when the war between the East and West factions began to escalate (Let's face it, dictated democracy and totaltarian communism were never meant to work together).

Erg, I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me start from the beginning. My name is Requiem....well that's actually a code name, but Requiem sounds way better that l23-qu1-3m, which is my serial number. Says so on the barcode tattooed on the right side of my ribcage. I am a genetically engineered mercenary, created and trained to be sold off to the highest bidder for whatever nefarious plan he might have. Effectively - and yes, I know how cheesy this sounds - I am a superhuman perfect soldier.
I just recently completed training as an officer SIN, capable of doing field work on my own and leading large groups of other SINs. I graduated top of my class in combat, espionage, recon...the whole nine yards.
The reason why I'm standing at rigid attention in the Director's office is because I have just been sold to a high bidder. Maker only knows what the hell they're going to do with me, but it seems some dictator playing the role of a "president" in the West decided he HAD to have me.

I barely noticed The Director discreetly nod as he watched my icy gray eyes (standard issue to all SINs of my generation) flick rapidly around the room, scanning it for any signs of threats. With a quick flick of my eyes I switch the bionics in them into thermal mode, scanning the room again and this time noticing two large male shaped heat signatures outside a secret door built into the left wall. I tell the bionics in my brain to mark them as armed and dangerous and dedicate some of the internal memory in the cybernetic part of my brain to keep track of them.

"Satisfied?" The Director finally asked, his disinterested tenor ringing through the small office. I made no move just locked my eyes on his, he took that as a sign he had my full attention. "Good," he turned back to his desk and picked up a data chip, tossing it over his shoulder in my general direction. My wrist flicked up automatically to catch it and I was back to my disciplined pose before The Director could turn back around. "That is the dossier for your current assignment, you will be able to process it fully when you wake up on the cargo plane in four hours."

'Wake up'...what a totally innocent sounding phrase...at least for anyone who isn't a SIN. The nice thing about the SIN project mercenaries is that you never have to worry about them coming after you for revenge, letting priveledged information about missions get loose, or anything like that. See we come equipped with the relatively annoying failsafe that wipes our memory about our missions and conviniently knocks us out. How does it work? Well someone who has the right passwords says them out loud...

"Viper, aegis, seven-niner-two..."

Yeah...exactly like that...and then we...we....

-Transmission Terminated-