This story is not intended to make comment or fun of any belief or religion. It does not reflect the beliefs of the writer nor does it profess to accurately describe "the other side". It is a work of fiction.

My thanks as always to Brook for her unending support. And to Angie, Jan and Nelleke wo, as always, drive me on.

Chapter 1

The tall, blond haired, blue eyed man stood before the assembled group. He was blindfolded and tied by the wrists, which were anchored in the small of his back and he had been standing in the silence for about five minutes now, while the semi circle of man stood around him. He'd been brought to the factory blindfolded in this way by the man who'd said he would introduce him to the Bay City cell of the Northern Stars, a gun running organisation selling arms to the highest British bidder. Niall O'Farrell had met with the bound man, Kavan Healy, at a bar on the east side of the city a couple of weeks ago and they'd talked about the NS cell and Niall's beliefs.

The blindfolded blond was sweating now although the factory was quite cold at that time of night. The pale shirt he wore showed sweat stains down the ridge of his spine and his balance was beginning to falter from the time he'd spent in the dark. He swallowed hard, trying to keep his fear under control, although the silence was unnerving and he wished someone would speak. He could feel that there were other people in the room and he had been warned by Niall that there would be an initiation ceremony of sorts, but the young man had not enlightened him further, saying that the leader of the group would not allow it. All initiates were to come to them with no prior knowledge, so that they could be tested.

Finally someone spoke and Healy jumped, his heart renewing the hammering in his chest.

'What is your name?' a deep male voice asked him.

'Kavan Healy' the blond said, proud that his voice held no hint of a tremor.

'And what do you come here for?'

'I come to serve' Healy said, as he'd been told, the initiation ritual having now begun.

'And how will you serve?'

'In whatever way the leader asks of me' he said feeling the weight of his words in his heart.

'And how far will you go to serve?'

'I will serve with my mind, my heart and with my life' his voice broke on the last word with the emotion of it all.

'And for how long will you serve?'

'I will serve until God takes my final breath' he replied, pleased he'd gotten through the questioning without a mistake. But that was only the beginning. Niall had been permitted to tell him there would be the initial questioning, the answers being ritualistic and prescribed. Then there would be the bravery test, and finally, if he passed the other tests, the official joining.

Healy felt hands on his arm and he was turned and guided forward for several paces, hearing a door click behind him. He tried to calm his breathing as the hands took of the blindfold, although his hands remained bound behind him. Blinking in the dim light, he saw he was in a small office like room. The hands on his arms kept him facing forward, although he was aware there were people behind him. He stared steadfastly forward and through a door to his right, a small, cringing man was pushed. The man's arms were held by a second man with a black woollen mask over his face, so that all that could be seen were his eyes and his mouth. Silently, he pushed the captive forward, placing him against the wall with his back to the room.

The blond could see that the captive's shoulders were shaking although he remained quiet. A voice at the back of the room started to speak.

'William Flaherty, you have been charged with the crime of betrayal against the group. How do you plead?'

Flaherty started to turn, but the masked captor forced his head back to the wall. Healy heard him gasp and then a weak voice said 'guilty'.

'And do you know the penalty for betrayal?'

A whispered 'yes'.

'Are you prepared?'

'I am' the tremulous voice said and Healy saw the man brace himself.

The voice behind him gave the final order.

'Carry out the punishment'.

Carefully, the masked man took out a large pistol. Curiously, he knelt at the back of the captive and as the big blond watched, horrified, he pressed the muzzle of the gun against the man's right leg, just above the knee joint. Steadying the captive with a hand at his back, the masked man pulled his trigger and the report of the gun deafened the assembly as the noise was accompanied by a gut wrenching scream. Before the captive had time to fall, the masked man repeated the exercise on the left leg. His victim crumpled to the floor in a pool of blood with a final gurgling cry as the masked man stood to one side.

Kavan Healy swayed where he stood. So, this was the bravery test – to watch the ceremonial kneecapping of a traitor to the cause. He closed his eyes against the horror of it, desperately trying to keep his dinner in his stomach and not on the floor. He was no stranger to violence; he saw it every day of his life. But this? This was so cold blooded that he felt the impact of the bullets as if they'd punctured his own flesh. The sweat beaded on his tanned brow and his hands, bound behind him, balled into fists as he struggled to regain his composure. He breathed heavily, but refused to look away. The victim was not unconscious. He lay moaning on the ground, clutching at his mangled legs and looking from Kavan to the men behind him, but he never swore, never asked why. He took his punishment like a man, knowing that he'd sinned and had now paid the price. The same voice behind him spoke again.

'Take him away and have the doctor see to him. And bring the initiate'.

The unseen hands replaced the blindfold around Healy's eyes and once again he was propelled through the factory, back, he thought to where he'd started. Once there, the material was removed from his head and he got his first look at the six men of the group he was about to join.

'Kavan Healy. Welcome to the Northern Stars' a tall dark haired man was saying to him. The unnerved blond dragged his mind from the horror of what he'd seen to concentrate on what the man was saying.

'My name is Aidan Ryan, I am the number two in this organisation and you will take all your orders from me. Is that clear?'

Healy nodded slowly.

'You have passed the first two tests and you have seen the punishment meted out to those who do not obey. Do you wish to take the final step to become a full member of the Northern Stars?' the speech was made in the same ritualistic manner and the bound man felt as though he was in a church or some other such institution.

He cleared his throat. 'I do' he said clearly and steadily.

Aidan turned away and said to the man on his right 'Prepare him'.

Healy felt the bonds on his wrists slacken and his arms fell slackly to his side, the circulation having long since gone from them. Painfully he massaged his wrists and stood in the middle of the room looking at the activity going on around him.

Two men had gotten a brazier from a corner of the room and had placed wood in it, setting it alight with a set of matches. Flames licked up from the fuel until the wood was well alight and he could feel the heat coming off of it. Another man had set a table out at the side of the brazier and had draped a white cloth over it and ominously Aidan came back into the room carrying what looked like a metal fire poker with a flat round end. He placed the metal into the bright white flames of the fire and left it there, so that the poker started the glow deep red. Turning to the blond Aidan stared him in the eye.

'Take off your shirt and lie face down on the table'.

Healy licked lips that had suddenly gone dry. 'Why?' he asked carefully.

Aidan nodded at one of his fellow cell members. 'Show him' he said as the man took off his own shirt and turned to show the initiate a brand on his right upper back in the shape of an N with an overlying S.

Eyeing the raised scar and taking a deep breath, Healy slowly unbuttoned his shirt, laying it down on the foot of the table. Goose bumps rose on his tanned and muscled torso and he stood for a moment, looking at the glowing metal in the fire. Calming his hammering heart, he slowly eased himself down onto the table. Quickly one of the other men grasped his left wrist, slipping a loop of rope around it before looping it under the table and tying it to the right wrist, so that the supine man was unable to get up or move from the table.

He saw Ryan move to the brazier and take out the brand, watching in sick fascination as the end glowed deep red. As the cell member walked towards him, Healy took a deep breath and tried to prepare himself, his muscles bunching under his skin. He took one final look at the man then closed his eyes tight as the hot metal came down onto his skin. There was a muted hiss and the sickening smell of barbequed meat and an almost indescribable pain as Aidan pushed the brand firmly against the bound man's back, high up near his shoulder blade, watching as the body beneath him writhed.

The blond man gritted his teeth, the breath whistling through them as beads of sweat beaded on his brow and he fought the impulse to scream. After long, murderous seconds, Ryan took away the brand and looked in satisfaction at the raw and blistering wound, seeing clearly the mark of the group. He watched as Healy's jaw muscles worked, impressed that no sound had come from his new member, then slowly cut the rope and held out his hand to help the sweating man up.

As the blond stood on shaky legs, Ryan wrapped his arm around the man's neck. 'Welcome brother' he said. 'Go home now and rest and come back here tomorrow. We will begin then'.

Slowly, Healy put on his shirt, gasping as the material brushed against the burn and walked unsteadily towards the door without a backwards look. He walked out of the factory, looking left and right, unsure where he was. Suddenly he caught a shiny reflection from across the main road. To anyone else, it was the reflection of headlights on a window, to the new initiate it was his salvation.

Quickly, and making sure he wasn't spotted, he ran across the dark road and got into the red and white striped Torino, easing himself back against the seat with a grimace. His curly haired partner looked at him in concern, noting the pale face and the haunted look in his friend's eyes.

'You ok buddy?' he asked softly. 'What happened?'

Hutch cast a sideways glance. 'Between the kneecapping and the brand, where d'ya want me to start? Just get me home huh? I need a drink'.