Chapter One
15 Years Later

A fist collided with his torso, right in the sensitive area directly beneath his sternum, so forcefully that he felt all of the breath leave his body. August Anderson groaned and stumbled backward a step, trying to regain his focus and that much needed oxygen. The cheers and jeering around him sounded blurred as he scrambled to collect himself. The only voice he could hear clearly was, unfortunately, the one shouting directly in his ear.

"Seriously, Aug, you're going to get your ass handed to you by that wimp?" it said without bothering to hide its laughter. "He's a beanstalk!"

August reached up and pressed the camouflaged microphone glued below his ear before growling out through his teeth, "How would you know?"

"I've hacked the security cameras of the hotel," the voice replied nonchalantly. "Now c'mon and get it together, August. You're embarrassing me, and if I lose money to Barber over this I'm taking it out of your wallet."

"So stop betting on me, Stuart," snapped August, but he couldn't completely hide his own amusement at his best friend's antics. They'd been close since they'd been together in the fighting rings and August had taken Stuart, a boy far too young and too small to survive in the arena, under his protection. Ten years and a computer science degree had Stuart being recruited into the CIA tech department, and it had only taken a little campaigning on August's part to get Stuart assigned to be his handler.

He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand and straightened up, focusing his hearing on the heavy breathing in front of him. A scuff to the left, a staggered step forward. August threw his right arm forward in time to catch the man in the chest before he could attack again. The man grunted and stepped to the side, giving August a chance to spin around and catch him in the other side. As he fell the man grabbed the back of August's knee, dragging him down to the ground with him.

"That's right, Aug, kick his ass," Stuart was crowing in his ear as August wrestled with the other man, trying to gain leverage over him. He had just gotten ahold of one of the man's arms and was twisting it behind his back when a new voice, sharp and demanding, joined the fray around them.

"August!" He stopped, still pinning the man to the ground with his knee, and tilted his head in the direction of the voice. "Come on."

"I'm a little busy," August replied, grunting with the effort of keeping the writhing man from escaping. "Leave a message with the secretary and I'll call you back."

There was a smattering of amused laughter from the gathered crowd. Instead of responding, the speaker approached and grabbed August by the elbow, dragging him to his feet and pulling him roughly through the crowd. "Killjoy," August grumbled at the man holding his arm.

"Quit being such a child," the other man snapped and August felt the change in the air as he was led through into the shade of the hotel.

"You know how much I don't like being led like a dog, Jai," August growled and ripped his arm from the other man's grip, crossing his arms over his chest and taking up a defensive stance. He heard the man beside him stop and take a deep breath.

"Okay, I'm sorry," Jai Anderson said evenly. "You're my little brother. Shoving you around comes naturally."

August could hear the lame attempt at a joke in his brother's voice and he smiled, relaxing his posture and holding his hand out in a sign of forgiveness. Jai took his hand and placed it in the crook of his elbow, and then the two of them set off further into the cheap hotel. "So are you going to tell me why exactly you've stolen me away from my fun?" he asked.

"Stairs," Jai warned and August prepared himself, his foot finding the bottom step and beginning the careful climb upward. "You know Dad will be mad when he finds out you've been out fighting again, especially while on a mission. We're supposed to be avoiding attention. A blind man beating people up in the streets isn't exactly subtle."

"That's why I didn't tell them I'm blind," said August with a simple shrug, letting his older brother lead him around the landing and to the next flight of stairs. "As far as they know, I was just a drunken asshole with an attitude problem."

"Oh so you just told them the truth then?" Jai asked mockingly and August rolled his eyes but didn't respond. His older brother's voice turned more sombre as he added, "Uncle Henry's here. The plans are changing."

"Uncle Henry is here?" August asked in surprise. "Why?"

"To oversee the mission," Jai explained as they mounted the last set of stairs. "And by the sounds of it he's got something important to say. I don't know what's going on exactly, but it doesn't sound like he's brought good news." August nodded and inclined his head, listening for sounds from ahead. He could hear vague mumblings from the rooms they passed; a middle aged man talking on his phone in rapid Sanskrit, a cleaning woman singing to herself, and the garbled sounds of a couple being intimate. There was nothing but silence when Jai stopped them in front of the room assigned to them.

Jai tapped his knuckles against the door and then August heard the whoosh of air as the door swung inward. "There you are," Conrad, the eldest Anderson brother, said and August heard him moving around as the door shut behind them.

The musty scent of a familiar cologne made August tilt his head. "Uncle Henry," he said in greeting, nodding his head respectfully.

"Put on a shirt, would you?" Henry growled out. August smirked at the irritable response and caught the tee-shirt that Jai tossed in his direction when it hit his chest, tugging it over his head. "Where have you been?"

"Just taking in the local scenery," August said with a shrug. He leaned back against the wall and folded his arms over his chest, holding back a wince as his bruised ribs ached. "What are you doing here, Uncle?"

"Change of plans," Henry said briskly. "I've gotten new information from one of my personal contacts. There's a group supplying weapons to terrorist groups under the cover of a monastery just outside the next town. I'll make sure your intel job is handed off. Taking down these weapons traders is our top priority now."

"What is the plan?" Conrad asked.

"Con, wait," August cut in, straightening up. "We can't just jump into this. We were sent here to get information from Colombo technicians, not raid a church. This is a massive breach of protocol, not to mention I'm pretty sure it's illegal to attack a holy ground." He turned his head to direct his next question at Uncle Henry. "Where did you say this information came from?"

"From classified contacts of mine," Henry retorted shortly. "They are assets turned back when I was in the field that I have maintained contact with. That should be all you need to know."

August nodded, accepting that answer. "And what does Dad say about this mission?"

"Nothing," Henry said. "He's in diplomatic meetings and is unreachable, but I am sure that he would not want us to sit idly by while weapons are put in the hands of our enemies."

The lighter set of footsteps belonging to Conrad came across the room and August felt a hand on his shoulder. "Jai, August, what do you say?"

"I think we would be fools to pass up this opportunity," Jai said immediately. August wasn't surprised; it was a terrorist attack in India that had killed his mother when he was seven and since then Jai had always taken whatever opportunity he could get for a little revenge, no matter the faction.

"What about you?" Conrad asked, squeezing August's shoulder.

August hesitated. While he felt in his heart that this was a bad idea, he knew that he would be overruled regardless. His family was all he had in life and it was there that he would always place his trust. "I think that I will follow you wherever you decide to lead us," he said.

"Spoken like a true diplomat," Henry said with what passed for a laugh from him. "Be careful Conrad, or he may very well sneak in and steal Arthur's job out from beneath you with that silver tongue of his." August scoffed, and although his brothers both laughed there was an uneasy strain under it. Before he could say anything more, Conrad had released his shoulder and walked towards their uncle.

"Very well, so what's our plan?" he asked. The four of them settled in to lay out their strategy. They would strike in the dead of night, using every weapon available to them to eliminate any perceived threat before turning to the weapons search. All power, domination, and aggression. It was a classic Henry Anderson plan.

And August could not have disagreed with it more.