*Several hours later*

He listened to her breathing, even, in and out. There was a slight burring of a soft purring snore perhaps. It didn't matter. He smiled at her for a moment, placing a kiss on her cheek then getting up. He was just far too keyed up over the day, the evening and the freshly finished sex to go to sleep. The smell of it was still fresh in the air darn it. He slipped out of the bed and made his way out onto the balcony, he ignored the fact he's still butt-flippin-naked and stood out there. Listening to the night and the dark rush of Brussels at night. It wasn't Paris, the city of lights or Vegas, the infamous city that never sleeps. But it still had a brazen nightlife all it's own. He smiled, standing there, looking out over the city, he turned, shutting the balcony door abit, then lifts his head to the sky and lets out a powerful, reverberating whoop. Energized and ready, and finally ready to sleep.

He slipped back into the room, slipped back under the covers, wrapped his arms around Natalie, drawing her close. Nestling his nose into her hair. A big smile on his face, and he slipped off into the oblivion of sleep.

----

*Somewhere in a Brussels metro station*

Five bodies lay on the floor of a service hall. Three of them were security guards, two of them were unlucky civilians who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Further down the hall seven people, three women, and four men clustered around a set of lockers. One of them having been jimmied open, and an odd tall thin cylinder set inside it. Blocks of C4 and Semtex taped to a tall gas canister. Two of the women were tinkering with a timing mechanism. The rest of the group was making sure no one walked in on them, silenced weapons in the form of short SMGs and carbine rifles were being swept back and forth down the hall. Their black balaclavas hid their features from first look, and would need to be ripped off before identities could be found out.

This group was just one of several teams, setting up the last bombs in the metro stations around the city. Setting up timers that would go off at noon exactly the next day. Being the opening gambit to the plan, while eighty of their number would raid police stations and the WSM tournament to blunt the response and deal the first deaths of the plan. Another twenty would go out and martyr themselves at public sites around the city to cause even larger destruction. And stop the cities response so they could broadcast their message across the world.

The women grinned as they set the timer finally, then taped the timer to the top of the IED then closed the locker, and welded it shut with a hand torch. They all then packed up. They quickly gathered up the bodies, carting them down one of the tunnels, and dropping them in a service tunnel way down the way, where they wouldn't be found for weeks most likely. The terrorists then used back passages and sewer tunnels to get to their home base. The kick off area for the attack tomorrow. Unmarked vans and trucks ready to go for the attack already. The one hundred terrorists performing final preparations before catching some sleep so they could have some energy for tomorrow. As it would be the best day of their lives. And perhaps their last, no one truly knew the future.

----

*Seven AM, the next morning. Five hours until the Strike*

Victor's back appeared above the edge of the bed, then disappeared under it, this happened again and again. Working his arms and chest muscles as he rapidly performed push ups, limbering up for the days events and going through his morning routine. A never ending regime too stave off the potential of invalidity that his biological circumstances want to force on him. He holds the extended position for abit, looking up atop the bed to see if Natalie is awake yet. But doesn't hold it long, not that he couldn't hold it for hours on end without a problem. He finishes off his fifty push up routine then rolls over onto his back, planting his feet firmly on the floor and begins crunches and sit ups, he wouldn't allow himself a shower until he finished the jumping jacks and the shadow sparring. If he had the heavy bag he usually has on the base it'd be better, but he'd make do.

Today is the day he intended to try and blow away the competition, prove yet again he has the strength, power and endurance, the top in the world, seal the WSMs for another year.

Little puffs of breath escaped his mouth as he worked, growing slightly oblivious to the world around him for a time, bent on staying fit and trim, a long and healthy life, not just that he had to start working off that heavy dinner from last night. He could still feel it. The breakfast salad, limited meat and other things in the regime he'd have for breakfast would hold him for awhile anyway. He'd go back to a less regimented plan after the tournament. But he had to keep it all clean for now. He huffed and puffed, nearing thirty sit ups by now.

Yes today is the day.