Rage of Fire
By Half an Inch
Chapter 1
A black-haired, twenty five year-old man walked briskly down the sidewalk, all while pulling his wool overcoat tighter around his slim form.
To the causal observer, he looked like a normal pedestrian making his way home after a long and cold winter day.
However, this man was anything but normal.
If asked, he would claim that he hadn't killed the young man laying in an alley near Cuerdan street.
He would say he had been visiting a professor who taught in the University of Liverpool. If someone was to take a closer look at this professors background, they would have found out that he didn't exist.
But the problem was that no one had even thought to ask the young man. To the world, he was another ordinary face in a crowd of millions.
To the underworld, however, he was the most experienced and feared bounty hunter to have ever been hired.
Rumors had flown, claiming that this mysterious man had once worked for MISO. After two years, he had rose to claim the title of top agent. Always the best. Always on task.
He was the perfect agent. Loyal, lethal, and charming.
Then, he had been exposed to the cruelty of the government.
He would often compare it to a gargoyle.
Ugly, monstrous, and hideous.
Now, the man battled the ongoing snow storm just because he had a meeting with a client in five minutes.
This was a usual occurrence, considering he was always being called to do the difficult jobs others had failed to complete.
He was supposed to meet him at a restaurant. The name: Fleur dé Falafel.
It was a French/Arab restaurant. He could've cared less, but his training had forced him to remember things. Even if they weren't the least bit important.
Moments later, the food joint loomed into view. The man reached up, brushed the snow from atop his head, and walked in like he owned the place.
A waiter offered to direct him to a table, but he waved the waiter away. "Thank you, but I'm in no need of assistance." He said coldly.
The shell-shocked waiter just nodded mutely and went back to her post at the front door.
Experienced eyes raked his surroundings for any sign of a sniper or eavesdropping spies. After making sure that all threats were eliminated, he walked over to a table in a secluded area near the end of the restaurant.
He sat down without any invitation. A plate had already been placed in front of him. His clients often bought him dinner as an extra token of gratitude, even though he rarely, if ever, touched the food.
"Hello, Mr. Felix, if that even is your name. How are you?" The man, Hamilton, said warmly from his side of the table.
'Felix' waved to a waiter and ordered a glass of water. He wasn't going to drink. He was on duty after all.
"I'm fine. Thank you for asking. How are you?" He responded in a Liverpudlian accent. 'Felix' was supposedly from Liverpool, after all.
Hamilton's cheery demeanor slid off his face, the weight of it causing his mouth to turn downward into a frown.
"Quite the contrary, actually. Someone's been bothering me."
'Felix' raised an eyebrow and pretended to act interested. He was a very good actor. "May I ask who?"
Hamilton sighed. "I'm afraid I can't disclose such information in a public place. People these days are so unpredictable. Don't know who to trust anymore."
'Felix' removed the hand that had been resting on top his handgun. Patience, he told himself. Don't shoot the old man no matter how annoying they are.
"Oh?"
Hamilton slid a folder over the table. Felix reached out with a slender hand and grabbed the folder.
He recognized the dismissal and stood up, pocketing the file in his coat. Hamilton looked upset that had had just wasted over fifty dollars on food that hadn't even been touched.
Felix smirked at the mans expression, and walked out the door, into the biting cold outside.
Upon arriving at his home, he immediately opened the file.
It contained only one leaf of paper. That paper contained three words:
Kill Alex Rider.
