Chapter Four
A Surprise to All
26 Jan 2026
5:41 p.m.
Marked Brotherhood Headquarters
Unknown Location
John began to reform, back inside the golden room. Though he had only been there once before, he felt like he had returned home from a long journey. He stepped forward to Marcus, standing at attention. Marcus knew he was serious, and said, "At ease, Brother."
John relaxed his posture very slightly, as Marcus turned away from him, and reported, "Mission Accomplished. The man named James Pierson is now dead. No evidence, no witnesses, no cameras. It was perfect, as always."
Marcus whipped around, facing John dead in the eye. "No," he seethed. "It was not perfect. Yes, the death was, but it was too late. You were sent to kill him, in order to prevent him from telling anyone. You couldn't even do that."
John was speechless. "I...I...I couldn't--"
"You couldn't get him alone. That was the whole point. That was what he was trying to do. He was making sure he couldn't be killed. I'm glad you took the first chance to kill him, but it was too late. In case you were paying no attention at all to him, he told his best friend, Patrick Lindquist. Now, Patrick knows the story, and he's not as paranoid about it. In fact, he's much the same, only using the same strategy James used: he's refusing to be alone."
A muscular Assassin stepped forth. He was in his late twenties, with muscles that would suggest he was once a bodybuilder. His hair was trimmed to a military cut. A fairly dark tan gave him the appearance of an Egyptian guard, and the piercings alog his earlobes supported that theory. John knew he was to never mess with this guy.
"Clearly, he is not cut out yet for such a job as this. Allow me, Your Excellency."
Manners, huh? John thought, in amazement. Impressive. I thought he was more of the fearing type than the respectful type.
"Very well, Horus," Marcus replied. "Kill that man, and any and all who hear him." As he said this, he glared into John's eyes. John bowed his head, in failure.
Horus was pleased, but he remained calm. He flexed his muscles, saying, "This shall be easy, Your Excellency."
With that, he turned. As he faced John's direction, he growled at the inferior Assassin. John was still in shame. Horus then walked out the exit, and onto his next mission.
30 Jan 2026
6:00 p.m.
Town Square
Albany, New York
Patrick was, indeed, calmer than James, upon knowing the truth. He wasn't frantic to stay within eyesight. He didn't make himself the center of attention. He barely even walked into large crowds. He was nearly the same person as before. He simply was more alert.
Now, there is a significantly monumental difference between alert and paranoid. Paranoid is to suggest that you can trust no one, and become afraid of everything. Alert simply means you make your body ready for anything. No matter the cause, no matter the consequences, you simply keep your guard up for anything at all. Nothing more.
That was how Patrick was. He stayed alert. If he felt threatened at eany moment, he would calmly scan his surroundings, and eliminate the possibilities, until none were found. He didn't kill anybody; he simply calculated the odds that they were an enemy. He made the four following steps to determine a threat:
1. Eyes on me-Is the possible threat staring me down when he thinks I'm not watching?
2. Stalker-Is the possible threat around, everywhere I go?
3. Weapons-Can I see any weapons the possible threat may carry?
4. Mark-Do the possible threat bear that Mark James showed me?
If the person does not fit all three categories, he (or she) is not a threat. Plus, if the Assassin wanted him dead, too, he would have killed him with James. There were plenty of oppurtunities. Maybe they didn't know, just yet, that he knew. Still, if they could figure out a betrayal, they could figure out James told someone. That someone would eventually be narrowed down to him.
That eventuality was narrowed down to today, just a few days following the incident. He was wandering through the town square, when suddenly, he felt threatened. He couldn't explain it, but it was as if he somehow knew he was being watched. He couldn't tell where, he couldn't tell how, but he could tell why: an Assassin had to be nearby.
He gave a quick 360, analyzing the situation. None fit all four steps. A few fit one or two of the steps, but none hit all four. That is, until he saw it: one man, a large, tan man, full of piercings, and a bit frightening to look at, was a definite match. And, if that elimination process wasn't enough, he watched as a group of teens passed in front of this guy, and he was gone by the time the group finally walked by. He had to be an Assassin.
He was starting to hyperventilate, but quickly calmed himself. Get a hold of yourself, Patrick, he thought to himself. James said they can't strike with witnesses. So, just stay within eyesight of the crowds.
This wasn't an impossible task for Patrick. He simply started chatting with a lot of the groups. Most of them knew who he was, as he was a fairly popular kid in school. He chatted with them, all the while looking over his shoulder. After a few hours, he figured he was safe. He saw no sign of the Assassin, and thought that he could not possibly kill him. He waved goodbye to the groups, and headed for home.
Because of this, and because he had not looked over his shoulder, he did not see that as a bird flew overhead, a shadow passed from the nearest building's shadow, to the bird's shadow. When the bird's shadow approached Patrick's, the figure passed on to the next shadow, waiting to strike. Patrick kept walking, not a clue as to how dangerous his situation was.
He had walked right past an alleyway, as Horus rose to kill the oblivious man. He was inches from piercing through, when out of the alleys, a shadow stabbed through him.The shadow formed into a man, one Horus had never seen before. It was only because he cried aloud that Patrick realised their presence. He whipped around, to see the Assassin stabbed by someone else. The Assassin quickly spun around, punching the other in the face.
The fight had begun. Both floated in and out of their surroundings. Both were equally skilled. Both had clashed numerous. However, the other was better in the end, as he moved to snap Horus' neck, before Horus even knew what was happening. He was dead, instantly. The other popped his own neck, though the dark alleys hid his body from Patrick.
Patrick was aghast with fear. "Y-Y-Y-Y-You're one of them, aren't you?"
The other slowly stepped out of the alley shadows. He was definitely African, a tribal member. He wore bravery upon his face, courage upon his breast, and responsibility within his eyes. He looked to Patrick, with very honest eyes, and said, "No. I am one against them. I am a Protector, a new race of people. When God saw the extent of the Assassins, he showed himself to a tribe. He told them they would be given the same powers if, and only if, they would devote their lives (as well as the lives of their children) to destroying the Assassins, down to the very last one. Only then shall he take back the gift. My name if Michael. I will be your Protector."