Chapter 2: A Meeting of Beasts

The taxi pulled in just outside what appeared to be an estate of some sort. Shrubberies and beautiful flowers of all sorts adorned the place. A young girl in a maid's outfit stood at the entrance, ready to explain the situation. The Wolf flung open the door of the taxi, tossed the driver the fare and strode up to meet the girl.

"Fabiola?" he asked. The letter they had sent him said the girl would meet him at the gate to escort him inside. He was still baffled about how they had pinned down his location to get the letter to him. But he also knew who resided here. Though it was Garcia Lovelace that had signed the letter, Wolf was far more interested in the woman that stayed by his side, the woman, rumour had it, who was now wheelchair-bound.

"You're the Wolf, I assume," Fabiola surmised, looking almost uncomfortable to be dealing with him. That was discouraging to say the least. "Please, allow me to escort you inside." He did not argue. He was both anxious and eager to meet the woman he had heard countless stories about during his training as an assassin. In the business of being paid to kill, you often heard about the best of the best. And the Bloodhound was certainly a legend among even the fiercest of assassins across the globe. Fabiola led him through the gorgeous courtyard as the sound of birdsong reached his ears and a light breeze sifted through his hair. The sunlight bounced off his sunglasses and made him sweat beneath his jacket.

"Mister Lovelace was rather vague," Wolf piped up as they neared the door. Fabiola came to a stop. Apparently, they would not be entering the building. That was disappointing, given the heat of the outside. "All he said was that he wanted to speak to me. And that he might have a proposition for me. I don't mean to be rude, but I don't normally follow up on job offers as unpromising as this one."

"I understand," the girl told him. "We were not sure you would even come. There is a bit more to this than the Young Master disclosed in his letter to you, Mister Wolf." Mister Wolf, that was amusing. The assassin had to suppress the urge to laugh at the mere sound of that. "Please, be patient. He will tell you the details himself." They waited in the courtyard for a few moments until finally the door opened steadily. First, there was only shadow followed by the unmistakable silhouette of a leg until finally the Bloodhound was wheeled out by a young boy with blonde hair. He came to a halt ten feet from Wolf. Fabiola joined the others, then. Wolf removed his sunglasses and stuffed them into his duffle bag. He looked upon the woman he had heard so much about with his own eyes, at last having the honour of being in her presence without being in any immediate danger. Despite the fact that she was missing her left arm, much of her right leg, two fingers on her right hand and her right eye Wolf suspected the Bloodhound would still be quite formidable with a gun. Her last outing had been too much for her, effectively retiring her. His eyes went to the young boy, then.

"I was told I'd be meeting with Mister Lovelace," he said, confused. He had no knowledge of the family and assumed the boy's father was the one who had penned the letter. It had been written well and coherently, after all, not how you would imagine a child would write it.

"I am Mister Lovelace now," the boy replied, extending his hand. "Garcia Lovelace. Nice to meet you." Wolf was taken aback for a moment but shook the boy's hand so as not to seem rude. "I assume you have questions."

"Not many," Wolf answered. "You said you wanted to speak with me. It sounded fairly urgent."

"Ah, yes. To business, then. Tell me, what do you know about a mercenary group known as the Black Marchers?" At the mere mention of the group, Wolf's encounter with a man named Ladarius flashed before his eyes. By killing Ladarius and assassinating his cohort, Rex Huntington, Wolf had effectively wiped out the organisation. However, seeing as how Garcia was asking about them now suggested otherwise.

"They were well-trained," Wolf began, beating around the bush concerning his assassination of its leaders. "And dangerous. Their leader used to serve in the American military."

"A man named Ladarius, if I'm not mistaken," Garcia confirmed. Indeed, he was not mistaken. That was the second time this boy had shown knowledge of things he should have known nothing about. He was well informed and resourceful, apparently. "Well, it's come to our attention that you were the one who killed him. That is what you do, isn't it? Assassinations?" And a third example of knowledge he should not have. Wolf cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"You know a lot of stuff I didn't think you would," Wolf said straight out. "But, yes, I killed him. Why do you ask?"

"Wolf, isn't it?" the wheelchair-bound woman spoke up. Her voice immediately caught the assassin's attention. "My name is Roberta." I know who you are. "I serve the Young Master. Just four days ago, a man let himself into our home and confronted us, asking what we knew about your whereabouts. He claimed to be in charge of the Black Marchers."

"He asked about me?"

"He did," Roberta confirmed. "He told us of your exploits, warned us that if we wished to stay alive, we would tell him all we knew about you. We fear he is out for revenge."

"So what is it you want from me?" Wolf asked. If they wanted this man assassinated, they were going to a lot of trouble to explain the situation carefully.

"I want to hire you," Garcia said. "Not as an assassin, but as a bodyguard. I know it's not what you normally do, but I'm willing to pay. Roberta was injured during a…mission." That brokered scrutinising expressions from the Bloodhound and Fabiola. "If she was able, she would protect me herself. But I'm worried this man will return and when he does, I would rather have someone here who can keep me and my family safe." Seeing as there was nobody else here, Wolf assumed the boy considered Roberta and Fabiola family. This was highly unorthodox, not something he was used to. He had never been hired as a bodyguard before. But the boy was wealthy, that much was obvious. If he was willing to pay, the assassin would make an exception. He accepted the offer, much to the relief of the Lovelace boy. He and Fabiola turned to go back inside, though they had left Roberta. Wolf assumed the Bloodhound had asked to be left with the assassin. She seemed as though she wanted a word.

"You…know who I am?" she asked nervously. Wolf smirked, both amused and humbled by her timidity.

"I do," he answered. "I heard a lot of stories…never thought I'd ever see you and live to tell the tale." That provoked a smile from the woman.

"I have heard of you, also," she admitted, much to Wolf's surprise. "An assassin who came from nothing and made a name for himself out of nowhere. I have heard 'the Wolf' spoken across the globe on many occasions. People speak volumes about your formidableness." That was mad, hearing the most dangerous, prolific, ferocious assassin in the world speak praise about him. Compared to her, he was a very small fish in a very large ocean. He considered it a privilege to have her speak so highly of him, though 'formidableness' was not necessarily a compliment. Still, in their line of work, it was as good as. Noticing his silence, Roberta took his gloved hand in hers. She looked him in the eye. "Please, keep the Young Master safe. I fear for his wellbeing. Do all you can to keep him out of harm's way. I beg of you." Wolf hesitated before nodding and patting the Bloodhound's hand softly.

"I promise you, any who would harm him will have to face me. I will tear them apart."