This car ride could be his last. Max persisted on
finding out what was going on, but the men would not
give him an answer. As the truck moved along the street,
Max could feel the bumps it ran over. It was the closest thing to find out where he was.
"Who am I?" Max asked.
The man stared at him. So did the others. Nobody moved.
"Stop the truck," the one man said as he fixed his black tie.
The back opened, and then they threw Max out onto the street. It sped off before Max had a chance to read the lisence plate. He stood up and saw he was on an old barren bridge. Which would explain the bumps. He looked out into the ocean, but the fog forced Max to only see a couple yards out. He didn't know which way to go, so he made a choice to follow the truck on foot. He thought about what was going on. Things like this have been happening for as long as he can remember. As he walked down the bridge, he felt something square and hard in his pocket. He reached in and pulled out a wallet.
Max hoped it would explain something to him. In the wallet, was a picture of a women. She had black hair,
with simple blue eyes. A smile which would stay in the back of his head for ever. Max tried to remember her, that's if she was in his memories. However nothing came up. It drew a blank. Max was devestated. He put it back in his pocket and continued walking.
Meanwhile in an airplane flying above the US, two men discussed one man's actions.
"He is known only by Max," one man said as he showed the other one a simple black and white picture of who he was talking about. The picture showed every single detail, and made the smallest things stand out.
"What is so important about him?" Asked the other man.
"He is a known assassin. A killer. From what I hear, he has never lost a client. Who he works for, we don't know. All we know is that he is somewhere in London as we speak."
"Then, why don't we set up a sting? Who has he killed so far?"
"Basicaly, just people that the world doesn't even know.
I'm trying to figure out the pattern, but it gets more random everytime. There have been sightings of him, but I want to find him. Order your men to go back and pick him up again. Don't let them kill him. I want him alive when he is brought to me."
Max could feel the bumps it ran over. It was the closest thing to find out where he was.
"Who am I?" Max asked.
The man stared at him. So did the others. Nobody moved.
"Stop the truck," the one man said as he fixed his black tie.
The back opened, and then they threw Max out onto the street. It sped off before Max had a chance to read the lisence plate. He stood up and saw he was on an old barren bridge. Which would explain the bumps. He looked out into the ocean, but the fog forced Max to only see a couple yards out. He didn't know which way to go, so he made a choice to follow the truck on foot. He thought about what was going on. Things like this have been happening for as long as he can remember. As he walked down the bridge, he felt something square and hard in his pocket. He reached in and pulled out a wallet.
Max hoped it would explain something to him. In the wallet, was a picture of a women. She had black hair,
with simple blue eyes. A smile which would stay in the back of his head for ever. Max tried to remember her, that's if she was in his memories. However nothing came up. It drew a blank. Max was devestated. He put it back in his pocket and continued walking.
Meanwhile in an airplane flying above the US, two men discussed one man's actions.
"He is known only by Max," one man said as he showed the other one a simple black and white picture of who he was talking about. The picture showed every single detail, and made the smallest things stand out.
"What is so important about him?" Asked the other man.
"He is a known assassin. A killer. From what I hear, he has never lost a client. Who he works for, we don't know. All we know is that he is somewhere in London as we speak."
"Then, why don't we set up a sting? Who has he killed so far?"
"Basicaly, just people that the world doesn't even know.
I'm trying to figure out the pattern, but it gets more random everytime. There have been sightings of him, but I want to find him. Order your men to go back and pick him up again. Don't let them kill him. I want him alive when he is brought to me."