Chapter Two

The feral woman hung weakly in her cell, her wrists locked and secured to heavy iron chains suspended from the old stone ceiling. Leaches and larva had laid claim to the multitude of open wounds stretching across her body, and what little water that trickled down the stone mortar she could reach was more than likely contaminated anyway, so the invading worms and insects were in good company she considered.

Her prison uniform, what was left of it, hung in taters around her emaciated body. She'd lost any concern for modesty after weeks of being stripped for her daily beating and interrogations. When she was fed, which was only often enough to keep her alive, was usually thrown all across her cell floor. If she refused to eat, it was forced down her throat. She was needed alive, just for a bit longer.

Other than screams and curses, she'd spoken very little since her capture on the mountaintop near the remote village of Mae Salong. Her compatriots had escaped, but their location and arrest would come soon enough, the warden was convinced of it. This woman would not be able to hold out much longer, no one could.

A trio of assassins had been responsible for over seventeen murders in Northern Thailand alone, disrupting opium shipments within the Golden Triangle from Ruak to the Mekong River. Poppy fields had been burned, children designated for sex trafficking released and sent into hiding. Local gangs and enforcers sent to recapture the children or punish the poor farmers who'd allowed the crops to be destroyed were found brutally murdered in cold blood. Similar stories had been reported from the Koreas to Afghanistan; three ghost like figures that had killed and murdered everyone from pirates, terrorists, to warlords, must likely in attempt to create a power vacuum for someone to move in and take over. Now authorities believed they had disrupted the plot and had one of the conspirators in custody. Most thought she was a myth, but now the authorities had her, they'd captured the Tigress,

This land region the trio had mistakenly targeted was under the protection and guidance of the warlord Khun Sa We, easily the most powerful and ruthless of all the leaders of this region, a man shrouded in reputation and mystery that few had ever actually laid eyes on, but almost all had felt his presence or wrath at some point of their lives. He owned the police; he owned the government, the prisons. Every man, woman, and child in this area was his property, and someone had now dared attempt to take that away from him. Death would be too easy a punishment for someone so foolish. He planned to see to their suffering personally.

The woman was to be kept alive until local order and organization had been reestablished. She would identify her compatriots and remain incarcerated until the two other mercenaries were captured, then after Khan had had his way with them, the sweat release of death could finally arrive.

Her matted hair hung heavily over her face, her eyes closed in either exhaustion or deep mediation. Most of the guards knew better than to startle her, too many of their comrades had lost testicles or permanent eyesight trying to surprise or intimidate her. One of the first rules the guards learned was to make as much noise as possible upon entering her cell and have plenty of back-up with stun guns and mace pepper spray on hand

Even under intensive interrogation, she'd never given her name, leaving the frustrated prison personnel to refer to her only as her Tigress or ปีศาจ สีขาว (white devil) despite her mixed ethnicity. Officially she was just designated as prisoner B24, and that suited Artemis Crock just fine.

The filth covered inmate stood still as the guards secured her wrists and dislodged them from the hanging restraints. Without the support of the chains her weakened legs gave out and she sunk to the floor. The guards stood around her fallen form, staring nervously at each other to see who would lift her to her feet. After moments of bickering the two officers with the lowest seniority nervously raised the women to her feet, placing her arms over each shoulder under the watchful eye of the remaining armed patrol. A few steps out of her cell and the prisoner fell again, the two guards barely catching her before she slammed into the floor. She was dead weight, the torture and interrogations finally taking their toll. They eased her back up and dragged her dangling feet out of the complex and into the courtyard towards the warden's office.

Artemis winced at the sudden exposure to sun as she looked into the open sky for what seemed like the first time in months. It hung between the day marks of one to three p.m. she considered, giving her some small sense of time. Beneath her tangled mane, she stared down at her sore covered feet as they passed over the rough patchy grass and smiled. It wouldn't be long now.

Inside the air conditioned warden's office she was forced violently into the steel chair, her wrists secured and handcuffed to the backing behind her. A chill ran through her body as the cool air formed goose bumps across her tortured skin. They spoke in the standard Isan dialect, but the archer could make out traces of a Burmese accent from the warden. He was articulate, educated, most likely with some military experience, nothing she needed to be concerned about. The remaining guards were poorly trained thugs, making up for their lack of experience with cruelty and gang mentality. She'd been on the receiving end of that mindset, and while mildly effective, she was not impressed. They were used to dealing with broken men and defenseless women. They'd not seen true savageness before, but they were about to.

Once she was secured and strapped down, the group of men gathered in the warden's office watched nervously through the window for their employer's arrival, only occasionally looking back at the broken woman barely able to sit up right. The last time Khun Sa We had had visited the facility years ago, the warden in charge then had been shot and hung in the center courtyard for all to see. No one knew exactly what the man had done, perhaps nothing, but it was seen by all that he'd wronged the warlord and had to be made an example of. The current warden prayed he'd not suffer the same fate.

Off in the distance, a dust a storm of black SUV's made their way to the remote facility at the bottom of the mountain. Frantic guards ran like scared children, opening the tall barbed wire gates to let the warlord and his entourage in. The warden and his lackeys scurried down the stairs leaving one fearful young guard standing watch over the semi-comatose woman that hung limply from the chair. The skittish guard was nervous being around prisoner B24 alone, but he was terrified of the man about to enter the office.

For the first time in weeks, the prisoner spoke, barely able to lift her head, her husky strained voice surprising the skittish officer.

"What time is it?' the blonde prisoner rasped.

"One…one thirty," the nervous guard stuttered distracted, briefly forgetting prison protocol regarding inmates, instead staring down to the courtyard, watching the warlord exit his vehicle while the warden and gathered personnel respectfully bowed and cowered.

After what seemed like an hour of formalities and pleasantries, the warlord and his bodyguard made their way up the stairs, leaving his patrol outside and entered the office. The warden pulled chairs from around the room and surrounded the prisoner, as the warlord sat down in front of her. The warden stood tensely behind him, watching as Khun violently grabbed the women's hair and jerked her head up to face him, her matted mane falling away from her face. The blonde's eyes were half shut, and what part of her steel blue irises that could be seen, rolled up inside her head.

Khun Sa We smirked and released his hold, the archer's chin slumping back down to her chest.

"This is who's been killing my men? This is who's been disrupting my shipments?" he laughed, "this weak pathetic broken woman. Tell me warden; are you ignorant or do you believe me to be?"

He glanced at his bodyguard who just shrugged his shoulders in agreement. The warden's throat began to close, worrying that now he wasn't just considered incompetent, now he was a liability.

"Sir she was found outside the village in the drainage tunnels, her satchel laden with crossbows, arrows and other weapons. There was literally blood everywhere," he pleaded his case.

"You're a fool," Khun responded angrily. "She's nothing more than some petty criminal; just an errand girl sent to swim in the lake but has now found herself lost at sea miles from shore. What has she shared under your mindful interrogation?"

"She won't talk," the warden hung his head defeated.

"Then perhaps you haven't given her the proper motivation. Get her out of the chair!" he demanded.

The bodyguard and the warden grabbed the limp woman and released her cuffs, dragging her violently to her feet. Artemis immediately knew what was in store and struggled against them to no avail. The two men slammed her against the wall, pinning her against it as the few pictures that hung in the office fell shattering to the floor. Khun Sa We turned away from the prisoner and looked out the window as he removed his jacket, he was going to enjoy this. Behind him the sounds of struggle continued for a few moments before finally ceasing, followed by one small glass breaking chime

The warlord turned and smiled preparing a grotesque violation the woman would not soon forget when his blood turned cold. His bodyguard lay slumped on the ground, a bullet hole centered perfectly through his head, the remains of his skull plastered over the wall behind him. The warden stood with a shard of glass pressed to his throat as the archer held him in a choke hold, slowly approaching the militant.

Khun attempted to yell for his security patrol waiting in the courtyard just as the archer, sliced the warden's throat and tossed him aside, spinning and landing the point of her elbow directly into the warlord's throat. Khun's eyes grew wide in panic, unable to speak, barely able to breathe. The archer kneed him in the sternum and then in the groin for good measure, before catching him and quietly lowering him to the ground. His body lay spread across the office floor as the blond assassin knelt over him.

She whipped her hair out of her eyes and placed one palm of the man's mouth, ensuring if by any minute chance he could make a sound, it would never escape her grip.

"You were right, I just needed a little motivation," she smiled coldly.

She reached behind her and grabbed the long slender shard of glass she'd disposed the warden with. Her hand shook slightly in anticipation or relief, she wasn't sure which. In a few moments it would be over, or so she hoped.

With her free hand she took off the man's shoes, placing them onto her bruised and lacerated feet. "You should never have wronged him Gon, He was generous with you all things considered, and you got greedy. Big mistake."

"You have the wrong person," the man rasped through her grip over his mouth.

"I don't think I do. You're Zhenli Ye Gon, or at least you were until you betrayed your employers. Did you really think adopting a new identity would keep you safe, that the Shadows would just forget?"

She took one more strike at his throat, rupturing his larynx. His eyes remained open, staring at her in terror as he slowly suffocated. She grabbed his wrist and cheeked the time on his watch.

Where is she? the archer cursed.

She slid to the fallen bodyguard and retrieved his automatic rifle, waiting for the sign. She hoped she wouldn't have to shoot her way out, but was prepared for anything at this point, she was too close.

Artemis gingerly knelt down one final time over the warlord, taking the glass shard from the floor and lining it up with his carotid artery.

"No one escapes the Shadows; Ra's al Ghul sends his regards," she hissed as she severed the side of his neck.

Blood pooled around the warlord's head as Artemis rose to the window. In the distance she caught sight of a metallic glimmer shining from the rocky terrain just below the mountain. It was time. The archer ducked for cover under the desk just as the first explosion went off in the courtyard. In the ensuing chaos, Khun Sa We's men stormed the office and one by one they fell to the ground, victims of a faraway assassin's sniper rifle. Artemis recognized the loud wine of an RPG heading towards the building and prayed the desk would be strong enough to hold back the roof in the event Cheshire's aim was off. In the end she had nothing to worry about. Moments later the far side of the room shattered and the mid-day sunlight burst in.

Artemis ran to the opening to see the guards below lying in bloody heaps. She scaled down the rubble and made it to the ground just as the final detonation went off, knocking down the outer guard wall and opening her exit to freedom.

The prison was in chaos. Guards were being overpowered by inmates, tear gas filled the courtyard and holding cells, and the few who even noticed blond scaling the broken walls were either dispatched by sniper or quickly consumed by the mass frenzy of prisoners with a score to settle.

A helicopter waited off a few hundred yards in the distance. A giant of a man stepped out from cockpit, his rifle still smoking and met the archer halfway, literally carrying her into the aircraft. She was running on pure adrenaline and willpower, but even she had her limits

"What the hell took you all so long?" she smirked weekly as he placed her in the cockpit and belted her in. Moments later Cheshire surreptitiously appeared from nowhere, discarding the spent RPG on the ground and closing the door of the aircraft behind her.

"Let's go handsome," Jade ordered to the hulking mercenary, and the helicopter rose quickly to the sky, heading towards the mountains. Artemis rested her head against the glass, watching the smoking ruins of the prison disappear into the distance until it was nothing more that terrible memory. Despite the load roar of the rotors overhead, she smiled peacefully. The adrenaline rush had left her body and weakness and exhaustion had taken their rightful place. She closed her eyes and sighed. It was over, it was finally over.

xxx

Artemis slept for the next thirty-six hours, waking only momentarily when it was time to take the painkillers and antibiotics Jade had set aside for her. Her sister and their partner had treated her wounds around the clock, thoroughly disinfecting each open sore, suturing and bandaging each wound. There would be scars, there would always be scars, but they paled in comparison to the ones she carried inside.

Days later she awoke to the soft sounds of birds singing over the rushing river their safe house stood near. Artemis found it odd that her body ached more from actually sleeping on a mattress then it did the cold stone floor of her cell. To her right the sleeping form of her partner draped over her. Zane was mountain of a man, 6'5, ruggedly handsome, good in bed but better in a fight. He'd lived up to that reputation not only the night before, but throughout the time they'd been together. Their nocturnal activates probably added to her soreness, but she wasn't complaining.

It had been a little over nine years since she had left the states. Looking back to that life, it seemed more like a dream than a reality, an act of fiction much like the Alice in Wonderland chapters her mother read to her as a child.

Since she'd left, the only important thing in her life had been the debt, now that debt was paid. In accordance with the violation that she and her sister had committed against the Shadows, their choice had been simple. Work for us or die slowly and painfully.

They had killed a Shadow operative, and if it had not been for their lineage or the fact they owned certain talents that might be of service to the Shadows, they would have died as soon as they'd been captured. But they were the daughters of two well-known, well respected assassins. Both had unique skills that could be useful, oddly enough thanks to the man they had disposed of to end up in the situation to begin with.

Paula Crock's murder could not go unanswered, and for two sisters that had battled each other for years for their father's approval, they'd finally found common ground and forged a relationship they'd thought lost long ago. Sportsmasters' death was not nearly as satisfying as Artemis had hoped, but it was the last of a chapter of a book she could now discard, or so she thought at the time.

Long ops, infiltrations, and assassinations had all run together in her mind over the years, she honestly couldn't imagine another life outside of this one anymore. The three of them had become a dangerous team. Zane was equally disgraced in the eyes of the Shadows. A successful mercenary on the rise who'd failed the League at the most impromptu of times. He never spoke of it, but for a man as arrogant and brave as he was, she could read the fear in his eyes whenever the name Ra's al Ghul was mentioned. He may have been cocky, but he wasn't stupid. By either happenstance, good fortune, or just blind luck the trio had been paired and given a new lease on life, a chance to repay their debts and show their gratitude, The League of Shadows was not known for second chances, but their offer was truly never a choice.

The leadership had set their terms and if the trio was successful, they would gain their freedom. Few among that criminal organization thought they'd make it out alive, but the Shadows always kept their word. In some rare instances their actually was honor among thieves.

Artemis rose from the bed, and found Zane's shirt on the floor, stiffly reaching down and draping her naked form. She looked down at him and smiled. It was good to see him again; many times she doubted she would again. They'd saved each other's lives more time then she cared to count. She wondered if her attraction to him mirrored those of her mother's and the psychopath that would one day become her father. Much like Lawrence Crock, Zane could be so brutal to his enemies, while also having a certain softness about him when his guard was down and vulnerable. That was a side of her father she never saw, but Paula assured her had once existed.

Artemis cared for Zane, probably more than she should, but that was as far as she was willing to go. Zane was a girl in every port type of guy, not that it bothered her. What they had between them worked; a partnership with benefits, purely physical, no emotional ties, no verbal commitments. They both had needs and he was more than willing to scratch that itch if and when she required.

They never spoke of it, matters of the heart were strictly forbidden in their agreed upon partnership, but every now and then, particularly after incredibly stressful missions, he would call out to them at night. Two names, two women, must likely a wife and daughter, stolen from him like her mother had been from her. His obligation to the Shadows was no doubt related to the person or persons who had murdered his family, the same group that the mercenary had taken his vengeance upon, unbeknownst to who they might be working for. It was all conjecture on her part, but over the years she'd learned to read him quite well. One thing was assured, he'd never be allowed in heart, no one would. Never again.

The archer walked out unto the creaky wooden deck and inhaled the fresh mountain air; it tasted of freedom and new beginnings. A voice behind her appeared from nowhere, but by now she was used to her sisters catlike approach.

"Good morning Artemis," Jade spoke softly, handing her sister a hot cup of Vietnamese tea. The archer inhaled the drink's aroma and moaned. She took a sip and smiled. It tasted like home.

"I forget how good Lotus tea tastes; you make it just like mom."

"The trick is in the blend," Jade smiled softly and stood by her sister as they looked out at the sun rising over the mountains. Artemis leaned in and rested her head on her siblings shoulder. "We really did it didn't we?"

"Yes we did," Jade sighed, taking in another sip. "So…. did you have fun last night?"

"I'm not complaining," Artemis half laughed, looking around and finding a chair to sit in. She eased her aching body gingerly into the old dilapidated Adirondack and raised her feet on the ottoman. There were very few parts of her body that were not blistered or bruised, and she stared curiously at her abraded knees and shins, wondering if one day the pain of this life would actually go away and heal, but deep inside she doubted it ever would.

"So what's next dear sister?" Jade asked, "As the saying goes the world is our oyster. We can go anywhere, do anything. People with our skillset can make a very comfortable living, or so I hear," Jade smirked.

"Oh I know," Artemis rolled her eyes sarcastically, thinking back at the many capers she'd tried to thwart of Cheshire's over the years. It seemed ironic to be on that side now, but it's not like she'd had much of a choice.

Artemis pondered the question for a long time. She'd never acquired a taste for killing, not like Jade or Zane had. She hoped to God she never would. It was always just a means to an end. She'd felt little comfort knowing that most of the people she'd dispatched had done terrible monstrous things. All of them had blood on their hands in some form or fashion, just like she did now. The idea of making a living that way didn't thrill her, but she wondered if somehow she could convince herself that in some twisted way she was dispensing a kind of justice. She was no hero anymore, and thanks to the last few years, could never be again, but that didn't mean she didn't care about punishing the guilty, her version had the chance to be a little more…permanent. It was something to consider at least.

They sat in silence for the next half hour, reflecting on the last few years, her mind ablaze with the feelings of wanderlust and freedom. Now with her debt paid she could give in to that desire and start anew. Nothing was holding her back anymore. The world was now about opportunities, but something still gnawed at her, it had since the night she'd left the states almost a decade ago and had never left no matter how hard she wished it would.

"I have a few things I need to take care of first." Artemis disclosed, breaking the silence.

Jade studied her sister carefully after that remark, recognizing that look; even as a child she'd been able to read her so well. Cheshire sat down on the edge of the chair and took her sister's hand.

"You can't go home again," Jade said thoughtfully, "you know that."

The archer let those words sink in for a few moments before she replied, "I know," she sighed, "I know."