Ok, here it is! I've been delayed a bit by this, that and the other and the story's still a work in progress, but decided to get started with what I got so far. This is the sequel to the first Sliverballers,W2000,and Fiberwire story. Sorry to say I don't know how to do a brief recap on the events of it so...well...if you didn't read the first one, you'll be in the dark I'm afraid. If you have any questions, I'll try to clear things as best I can. Hope you enjoy and please leave some feedback.
Hitman-S.W.F. Vol.2
CH.1: After The Smoke Clears
"Let them through."
"This is a hospital, not one of your Press Conferences. We can't allow the media in here and disrupt things, even more so with the condition you're in."
"As I recall, Mulago's current funding is poorly insufficient. Only USh33.2 billion, a mere 13 million US dollars. One of the subjects I wanted to mention is about this fine hospital you run doctor, and how I wish to offer a public endorsement."
"That's…that's very generous but…I still can't allow this now. Perhaps after you've had more time to heal."
"I'm afraid there's just no rest for the wary, doctor. The sooner this happens, the sooner you'll receive my funding. Think of all the people you'll be able to help with it. Plus my announcement will boost the morale of this hospital."
"There are still other patients to-"
"Send them directly to my room. When it's done, escort them back out. That is all I require of you for now. So doctor, do we have a deal?"
"…If an emergency occurs with any of the patients on this floor, they leave."
"Thank you, doctor."
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"Can you tell us about the attack in your stadium?
"So many lives were lost yesterday…I'm not sure where to begin. My brother Basil was there and…I don't know what has happen to him."
"Do you know who was behind the attack? What they were after?"
"My career of choice has not produced many friends for me over the years. I believe the Uganda Police Force may have one of the assailants in their custody. And while I've always have faith in our local law enforcement, this is also a personal matter to me. Once I'm well enough to get out of this bed, I must take action to uncover my brother's fate and to put this matter to rest. "
"Does that mean your campaign as a Freedom Fighter has come to an end? You have sustained significant losses."
"My operations are on hold for now until this gets resolved, but the fight is never over. Those who wish me harm may believe this has deterred me, but they have in fact only achieved the opposite. I'll be dead long before this war stops but my path in life is set and I have full intentions to see it through."
"Ever the humanitarian, Serge Kayaru."
They all stopped and turned to face me. Not a shock the reporters are here. Of all the violence and death that has plagued this continent; most of these news hunting hounds have lost interest. But Serge Kayaru loses a little blood? Front fucking page. Serge shows me that shit-spiting grin of his before he fires it at me.
"Inspector General Ursula. Didn't think I'd see you until tomorrow. Or the week after."
"If you're well enough to talk to them then my visit shouldn't be a burden."
I gave him no choice but to end his interview early and send them out, much to his annoyance and my enjoyment. I walk over to the right side of his bed.
"I want to know who you pissed off enough to leave more than fifty dead bodies in your Football field."
"Inspector General, it can be any number of people who-ahhh!"
He groins in pain as I rest a hand on his shot-up leg.
"Many of them are white Serge. So is the woman in our custody and the man she's here with. Something about them doesn't strike as the usual company you keep. My guess is they're government agents of some kind because none of them have IDs. So is this one of your deals gone bad or some unhappy customers?"
I lift my hand from his leg and allow him to catch his breath.
"She…was an old partner. Her name is Diana Burnwood.
"And?"
"And I would like to press charges against her. But the bald white man…I think tried to save me. I hope to extend him my thanks but don't know which hospital he is staying in."
"Since you mention it, why were the two of you were sent to different hospitals?"
Serge broke eye contact to glance out his window. Of course he knew the reason but wasn't willing to share the story. But I will find out soon enough.
"So now this man is the hero of Serge Kayaru and all of Afrika? Strange when we pulled out bullets from some of our officers found dead on the scene and discovered they came from a sniper rifle. And last I recall, your personal guards all carry AK-47s."
"But you didn't find any prints on the weapon' did you General? It could've belonged to any of those other attackers you found on my field."
"But this Diana Burnwood woman-"
"There was a minor falling out between us. I'm just glad she's in a place where she can't do any more harm to me or anyone else."
"Is that a fact? Well I'll go make sure she stays that way."
I leave his room and make my way to my car. Don't wish to spend any more of my time with that fiend then I have to. I wasn't expecting to get much out of him which I didn't, but he has told me more the he realizes.
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I was brought and left alone in this "interrogation room" for a little under six hours, seated and handcuffed to an uncomfortable wooden chair behind fold-up table. The room is small and consisted of three dark gray brick walls made complete with a one-way mirror. There are small but noticeable splats of blood on the walls and there is a faint smell of urine. This is an intimidation tactic to loosen me up while they try to run background checks but that's not what's on my mind at the moment.
Before the authorities came to escort me from the hospital premises, I learned from a doctor that 47 had fallen from the roof of the stadium and he should have died but instead survived, no doubt a result of his genetics as a perfect human clone. He did however sustain a few fractured bones, internal bleeding and a concussion with the second likely requiring surgery.
The general care here is free but that kind of work comes at an expense, which isn't a problem for me to cover. However, should they screw up it, I'll be certain to see that's the final mistake of their careers. God, what am I saying? I sound like a tyrant.
My train of thought is interrupted when an officer of the Uganda Police Force or the acronym UPF opens and enters the door to my left. He's middle age, tall and skinny but appeared experienced. He's reading a file as he walks to my table, opposite of me.
The file looks to be perhaps 20 pages thick but I already know there's just enough information in it about me to fill two at the most. After he finished with his pretend reading he drops it on the table and glares at me.
"Diana Burnwood, I am Assistant Inspector Gyasi Kaweesi. We have the weapon you used to shoot three of Serge Kayaru's bodyguards along with two of our officers, adding to the fact that you somehow creped your way into this country with armed escorts all points to a very dark future. If I were you, I'd be pleading to cut a deal. So what brings an owner of a law firm from Britain all the way to Uganda?"
I actually do have degree in law as well as real estate, economics and some others. I always preferred multiple sources of income whenever possible. Plus I sometimes meet potential clients or targets through them as well. I suppose they can be called 'fronts' but I'm just as invested with my work outside the Agency. He only mentioned the law firm which confirms they possess less than half a page concerning my affairs. Kaweesi took a seat and continued his with his threats.
"Do you understand how much trouble you are in, Diana? I don't speak of the charges against you but that you are a cop killer trap in a department full of cops who want nothing less than retribution, and you have a pretty face Diana. Be a shame if it wasn't so pretty before you leave this room. Whatever rights you think you have don't exist. Better to accept the fact that you are not at home anymore."
"Despite how often torture is employed, it's not a reliable means of gathering Intel. Its effectiveness depends on the target, presuming you have the correct one. Some are more difficult to crack than others while some won't crack at all. Personally I think location can play a key role. "
There's a brief expression in his eyes that tells me he wasn't expecting that kind of response but he plays along anyway.
"I'm sure we can accommodate. There's still much of our country you have yet to experience."
"In my years of research, I've discovered that victims of heinous crimes most often wish to avoid the scene of the incident, especially if it's a familiar location which is a natural reaction. For example, a woman who was raped can possibly carry emotional trauma from the incident, though she may be able to recover from it and continue on with her life. But if she was raped in her own place of residence however, then that tends to have a lasting effect because now the illusion of safety behind her own closed doors has been broken. There will always be that nagging thought in the back of her mind that it can happen again when she's sleeping, showering, watching television etc. Her home has effectively been turned against her, similar to the feeling of betrayal by whom or what she holds dearest. It soon reaches the point where the only option is to find a new home. I'm sure you've witness similar incidents in your field Assistant Inspector."
"True enough, though I can't see what any of that has to do with the here and now."
"Whatever my misfortune will be here is merely a bad memory isolated only to Uganda. As you stated earlier, this is not my home…but it is yours, meaning the damage is doubled. It'll be more than just a personal violation but a complete invasion of one's privacy to an extent that may cause a person to completely uproot their entire life. Maybe even moving to another country under the false pretense that it won't happen again. But I'm not sure Assistant Inspector; tell me what do you think?"
He remains calm on the surface but his eyes appear to be slightly unstartled. Kaweesi seems to be at a loss of words for the moment. Shortly after, another officer opens the door and informs him their boss wants to speak with him. He turns to me a gives what appears to be a faint smile before leaving.
"What do you make of her General?"
"For a woman who looks like she was born with a sliver spoon in her mouth, the Burnwood lady has got some hard bark on her."
"I thought so too but we can still put it to the test."
"No. We know next to nothing about her or the bald white man with she's with so we can't tell what the blowback will be."
"She's means something to Serge. Isn't that what matters?"
"It's a piece of a puzzle Gyasi, and I want the whole set. I'll speak with her now."
"Yes ma'am."
A woman entered the room wearing a uniform that suggested a higher rank then Kaweesi. She came behind my chair and removed the handcuffs from my wrists, much to my relief, and then sits across from me.
"I'm called Inspector General Ursula. I run this department and the only thing we can dig up about you is your name and that tends to put us on edge because I don't appreciate having my time wasted, like you're doing right now."
"I would think with all the evidence against me that the process should be fairly simple. You have what Americans call 'a smoking gun' do you not?"
"And Serge is pressing charges against you."
"So what seems to be the problem?"
"He's not doing the same for your friend who you had sent to another hospital. You see, what I've come to understand about people who practice organized crime is they have their own law and code of ethics that punishes whoever breaks them in their own ways that don't involve the police. We got more than enough evidence that says you were behind the attack in his stadium. What gives me pause is the fact that Serge wants to press charges which leads me to suspect you're not the one responsible. If you were, he'd deal with you himself instead of handing you over to us."
Hmm…Inspector General Ursula is quite astute and seems to have a disposition regarding Serge which may indicate she's an honest cop. Despite the oldness and roughness of her name, she's a nice looking woman with a shaved haircut and dark smooth skin. She's shorter than Kaweesi but has a somewhat more muscular build. This woman will be either a potential ally or a hindrance though it's a bit too soon to determine which.
"Inspector General Ursula, if you don't mind me inquiring, you don't seem…disgruntled over the deaths of your officers."
"Those were Kayaru's lackeys moonlighting as cops. Any friend of Kayaru's is not a friend of mine. A shame some of them manage to escape. So tell me where exactly you and that banged up companion of yours fit in all this."
I suppose it's time I place a bet, however I have no intention of placing all my chips on it.
"Serge doesn't want me harmed but he does want me out of his way so he can try to track down and murder my associate before he can leave Uganda."
"He's the one behind the assault?"
"No. The real culprit is long gone and despite the chaos he caused, he's not important to Serge at the moment."
"And he's one of yours?"
"No. We're not associated in the slightest. Can't tell you much about that man but from what I've witness inside the stadium, I can say with certainty that he should be shot on sight."
"What does he look like?"
"His face is almost entirely covered with scars. Believe me; you will not mistake him for anyone else."
"What about the other man? What's his name?"
"He doesn't have a name…and let's just say Serge has a far greater interest in him than finding his missing brother."
"And what happens if Serge gets him? You'll still be placed in prison."
"Then he'll suddenly retract his statement against me and do whatever he can to ensure my release. What I can tell you right now is that I'm most likely the last person he wants to see dead."
She exhaled in annoyance and stood up.
"I told you that I don't appreciate having my time wasted. So I'll waste yours and let you rot in a cell."
Another policeman came and escorted me to a holding cell which I have to myself. I find this Ursula woman to be interesting. We seem to share a similar disgust for Serge but are hesitant to trust one another, for the enemy of my enemy isn't necessarily a friend. She wouldn't believe it if I told her the whole story anyway, at least not yet.
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At approximately 7:30pm Phylicia Elliott and her entourage of seven bodyguards are crossing through the underground parking lot towards her limo, exactly on schedule. They first inspect the limo before opening the door for her to enter first and then seating themselves. As they're driving I pull up directly in front of them and come out the passenger side so in case they start shooting, I'll have some cover. Her people swiftly came out with their weapons drawn, positioning themselves behind their car doors. I slowly raised my hands high revealing a detonator in my right with my thumb resting on the button.
"I'm here to speak with Phylicia Elliot of the ICA and nothing more. Afterwards I'll leave in peace. " I stated.
After contemplating for nearly twenty seconds she steps out. Elliot is a short woman with slicked back blonde colored hair, wearing oval style glasses and a light blue business suit. Despite her guard force, she brandishes a CZ 75 Compact and speaks.
"The true 47 would've never contacted me in this manner. You're obviously one of the few surviving Ort-Meyer clones. Since you've found your way here, I presume he informed all of you about the ICA before his passing. If you're carrying out a contract, you've chosen poorly. Only thing you'll get from me is a bullet in the head."
"If this were a contract we wouldn't having this conversation. The detonator in my hand will trigger an explosive in the parked car to your immediate left, which is close enough to eliminate most if not all of you."
"That doesn't exactly put me in a talking mood."
"The easiest means of killing you would be to take advantage of your habits. The brand of cigarettes you smoke is Virginia Slim Light Menthol and I know all the areas where you purchase them. It'll be a simple matter to lace them with poison. An alternative would be to wait until you leave your apartment at 8:00am in the morning for an ideal sniping opportunity. There's also-"
"I've heard enough. Say what you came here to say."
"I seek employment with the Agency."
"I don't know what class clone you are but we don't accept second best."
"The only difference between 47 and I is that I'm available and he's not. There are still contracts coming in from clients, a business to run. Therefore we should stop wasting time and get to work."
"Be that as it may, the Agency doesn't work alongside its enemies. Now I suggest you show yourself out unless you want this to get past words. While you might be ready to handle me but it won't be as simple dealing with the Agency."
"I've never been your enemy."
With nothing more to add, I get back inside the car I came in and drive off. I have to allow her time to let my proposition sink in but with their top assassin no longer at their disposal, it won't be long before she reconsiders her stance on the matter. Still, I'll be staying closer to Elliot then she'll realize. There's a demand for 47's skills in the market and I intend to fill the role.