Two Weeks Later
The Volcano
"I'll do it." said Mona as she looked at her feet, "But...Would you mind pretending that I didn't? Could we keep this between us?"
"That is what I was about to ask of you, Miss Sax." said Al-Sheikh, "It'll be a long time before we speak of this again. Until we meet again."
Al-Sheikh walked away as Mona stood at her place pondering what she had just agreed to.
"What was that all about?" asked Shaun as he walked in.
"Nothing. What are you doing here?"
"Well, this is the shooting range." said Shaun, "I thought we were supposed to practice some more."
"You already shoot really good, Shaun." said Mona, "I'm done teaching you, you can practice by yourself if you want. Or why don't you go work on your savate with Priest."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, Shaun, you shoot better than some people with years of practice." said Mona as she walked out.
"What did Al-Sheikh tell you?"
"Nothing."
"What do you mean nothing?" asked Shaun as he followed her, "I've seen him talk to Priest two weeks ago, now he's talking to you. What the bloody hell's going on?"
"It's none of your business, Shaun."
1998
Manhattan, New York City
She walked through the rain soaked streets of Manhattan, her hands tucked into her raincoat's pockets, lost in her own thoughts, too distant to notice the Lincoln Towncar that pulled up right next to her.
"Mona Sax?"
Mona stopped and turned around to look at who it was, a woman of her early fifties, auburn haired and with cruel green eyes.
"What do you want?" asked Mona wearily.
"Get in the car, Miss Sax." said the woman in a commanding voice.
"I don't think so." said Mona as she tried to walk away.
"This concerns your sister's welfare, not to mention yours."
Mona hesitated for a few moments, but knew she couldn't just walk away, not if Lisa might be involved.
"What is it?"
"Please get in, Miss Sax. At least to get out of the rain."
The woman's voice was soothing, yet menacing. Mona obliged and once she was out of the rain and sitting the leather upholstered interior of the car, the driver took off.
"Don't worry, Vincent knows your address, we'll drop you off after you have heard what I have to say."
"Who are you?"
"My name is Nicole Horne, I run Aesir Corporation, the pharmaceuticals manufacturer. Have you heard of it?"
"I've seen the ads. 'A bit closer to heaven', that's your slogan, right? What do you want?"
Horne handed her a file filled with police reports.
"There was a mafia killing one month ago in Hell's Kitchen. Peter Clemenza was shot, as was another unidentified individual, both connected to the Corleoni mob, allegedly. The witnesses identified the shooter as a twenty-something woman, Caucasian, brunette, five-six. You."
"That's bullshit. Stop the car."
"Don't worry; the cops don't know it was you. There is no way for them to find out, unless I tell them."
"Why didn't you tell them if you're so sure?"
"I have nothing to profit. Besides, I must say I was impressed. First time shooter and you managed to do it rather expertly, they say none of them saw you as you walked up to them and shot one in the head and the other in the heart... Curious thing, the second victim stood right up."
"What?"
"That's what they said; he stood right up and started yelling and demanding to know who you were. He left before the cops could get there and seems to have since disappeared. But you needn't worry about him."
"Wait, how do did learn all this?"
"Straight from the source, from Don Angelo Punchinello himself. He works for me."
"Does he?"
"Yes. When I asked he said that your father owed him money, and since his death his debt has been passed on to you. Your sister Lisa was kidnapped so that you would be more compelled to pay off your debts. She was released when you did just that.
"Funny thing, though, it seems Little Lisa and the Don have become something of an item."
"Would you mind cutting to the chase?"
"I believe you have a knack for this kind of business, Miss Sax. I would like for you to come and work for me."
"I don't, got lucky."
"You have the killer's instinct, and that's all the matters. We can train you, not to mention the pay will be handsome."
"I already have a job."
"Yes, I know. A dead end job as tech support for a middle-sized auditing firm. I'm offering you a new lease on life, Miss Sax. I'm offering you ten times you measly pay, a chance to travel on the job, have new experiences all the time, answer to no one but me, not to mention setting your own hours. All to squeeze a little trigger every now and then."
"I can't." said Mona as she hung her head, "I can't kill people for a living!"
"You can. You will."
"I'm not that kind of person."
"Yes you are. Once you've felt that jolt run up your arm and smelt the aroma of cordite and blood, there can be no turning back."
"There's something wrong with you, lady."
"If you're not going to help yourself. Think bout Lisa."
"What about Lisa?"
"As you know she and the Do have become and Item, what if they continue seeing each other, what if they marry? Do you think she's going to be treated decently by him? Punchinello is an animal, only I can restrain him. If you want Lisa's safety, you will-"
"Fine." said Mona as she raised her head with closed eyes, "I'll do it."
Three Weeks Later
The Volcano
"Sure thing, boss!" said O'Brien as he stood before Al-Sheikh with a beer bottle in his hand, wearing an unbuttoned Hawaiian t-shirt, "Sound's like a hoot!"
"Keep your voice down, for god's sake. They're not supposed to know."
"Okay. Just as long I do more than hang around Caracas for six months with nothing to do... I mean I will get to do my thang, right?"
"My good man," started Al-Sheikh, "You will be doing you "thang" so often that you will beg me to kill you."
"Awesome!" said O'Brien, and then his jaw stretched out and he poured the contents of the bottle into his throat. Al-Sheikh drew an expression of disgust.
"I'm sorry, did you want some?"
Shaun looked on from where he stood as Al-Sheikh walked out of the gym.
"Come on!" yelled O'Brien as his hand morphed into the shape of one of those foam gloves sworn by American spectators in sporting events, "Let's see some bloodshed!"
"Shaun."
Shaun merely looked at the door through which Al-Sheikh had just exited.
"Shaun!" said Priest as he held on to a punching bag.
"What?"
"I'm not holding this heavy bag because its fun. You're supposed be training."
"Who the hell is that bloke and why does he keep talking to everyone and swearing them to secrecy?"
"He's a spy, Shaun." said Priest impatiently, "Secrecy is key. Now kick the fucking bag."
Shaun stepped back then aimed a pair of martial arts kicks to the bag then paused.
"Why did you stop?" asked Priest, "Those were some sloppy kicks, man. You were better three minute ago."
"BLOODSHED!"
"Shut up, O'Brien!" yelled Priest. O'Brien merely quieted and sat down.
"I knew he was talking to you, over a month ago."
"Maybe he did."
"I saw him talking to Mona weeks ago."
"What? Are you jealous?"
"I just want to know what's going on."
"Maybe you will, right now you won't. Deal with it."
Shaun walked away, leaving Priest to let go of the bag.
"Where do you think you're going?"
"I'm going to find a drink."
"We're supposed to be sparing."
"I don't particularly care. I've been in this place for over a month and I have no idea why. I'm so sick of all this. The secrecy and the dishonesty"
"Shaun, come on."
"Piss off, you wanker." mumbled Shaun as he headed to an exit.
"Ummm. Guys, are you okay?" asked O'Brien, Shaun and Priest simply ignored him.
"What did you call me?" asked Priest angrily, "After all that I've done for you, this is how you talk to me?"
"What exactly did you do for me?" asked Shaun as he turned around, "Beside getting my wife killed?"
"Ooooooooh. That's friggin' bad."
Priest turned around and shot O'Brien a fiery stare, so intense that O'Brien instantly stood up and headed for the nearest exit.
"This is it, then?" asked Priest, "You blame me for what happened to Liz."
"Who else is there?"
"I dunno, the bastards that did it?" asked Priest, "Or maybe the one man who was supposed to be protecting her, but didn't...you."
"What?"
"Did you even try to save here, Shaun?" asked Priest, "Did you even try to fight them off? Or you too scared to fight anyone who isn't already dead?
Filled with anger, Shaun spun around with tremendous speed and aimed a kick at Priest's chest that knocked him off of his feet.
"Yeah, that's what I'm talking about." said Priest as he got up to his knees, "That was a fine kick, you've actuall-"
Shaun came at him with another kick, hitting him in the jaw and knocking him onto his back.
"Hit first, hit hard and keep on hitting. Don't let the other bastard up, isn't that what you taught me?" said Shaun as he was kicking Priest in the ribs.
Priest grabbed Shaun's heel and twisted it, sending his protégé spinning in the air and falling down.
"Let's get rid of some pent-up aggression, eh?" said Priest as he got up and raised his fists.
Shaun was quick to recover, and fast to come at Priest with a pair of kicks to the jaw, managing to duck when Priest attempted to aim hi own. His streak ran out a few punches and kicks later, when Priest caught his wrist.
"We're done." said Priest and then head-butted Shaun in the face.
Shaun dropped to his knees nursing his nose, and did not resist as Priest's knee collided with his jaw.
" Consider this your graduation day." said Priest as he mended his broken nose, "I'm not going to break your arm because I understand your pain. But next time you decide to get uppity, you'll see how big a bastard I can be."
1968
Vietnam
CIA Agent Felix Leiter stalked through the darkness, screwing the silencer to his gun, slipping the clip of silver bullets in. He had to be quick about this particular business, pull the trigger before the target got wise and be on his way home.
He slipped through the slit in the tent's side and looked at the cot where Lieutenant Priest was covered with a blanket from head to toe, while an eight-track player nearby played The Rolling Stones' Paint it Black.
I see people turn their heads and quickly look away,
Leiter fired twice at the body, at where he thought the heart was, and then fired a few more rounds across the body in case he had missed. Even if he did miss, that many silver would weaken him enough. He didn't seem to miss, though, as the body didn't move. If that were anyone else, he'd have been satisfied, but of what he had been told, the body was supposed to combust and turn into ash right about then.
Leiter inched closer toward the cot and pulled the blanket off, gasping as he noticed who it was. It was not Priest at all, but an army major bound and gagged, his throat was ripped open and bled dry.
I look inside myself and see my heart is black
"What in the Sam Hill..."
Before Leiter could fully realize that Priest had somehow anticipated this attack, he felt tremendous pain below his knee, the agony traveled upward and he buckled down to the ground.
"Mister Leiter, we haven't been properly introduced."
Felix tried to scream, but found a rag being crammed into his mouth, and someone crouched on top of him cuffing his hand. He tried to kick, but it hurt him to do so, and then he realized what had happened.
Leiter's right leg was three feet away from him, severed below the knees he was standing over the major's body wondering what had happened.
Priest was standing nearby, dressed in civilian clothes with a bloody machete in his hand. He dropped it on the floor and picked up Leiter's leg. He took a massive bite of the bloody stump prompting Leiter to scream in anger, or at least try to.
It's not easy facing up when your whole world is black
"I'm Judas Priest, I was the boogeyman of Scottish highlands for decades. I have fought the Nazis and the Koreans, evaded the KGB fourteen times and lived for two-hundred and eighty-nine years, during which I have racked up a body count in six high figures. I'm not proud of it, but that's something you should have known before you accepted this assignment. That man sleeping in my bunk had approved the massacre in My Lai, him and two others whom I have killed and will be found in the morning. The My Lai massacre was covered up, hushed up by the top brass, but won't be for long. I'm going to make sure people know about it. I'm sorry for cutting off our leg, especially since you were just doing your job, but then again you tried to kill me in my sleep, and that's not the American way, not my America."
Leiter's screams were muffled by the rag in his mouth, he thrashed and tried to get out of his cuffs, earning a kick in the chest.
"But then again, America has changed, hasn't it? And I am not willing to change along with it, I will not play this sick kind of game, nor will I be played by the likes of you... Felix Leiter, as an Agent of the United States of America, I hereby tender to you my resignation from the United States marine corps and the Initiative. Good night, and good luck."
And then Priest walked out of the tent and disappeared, leaving Leiter on the floor, trying to scream and on the verge of losing consciousness.
I want to see it pained black, black as night, black as coal, I want to see the sun blotted out from the sky.
I want to see it painted, painted, painted... painted black.
One Week Later
The Volcano
Shaun sat alone on a bench in the shooting range fidgeting with a lock and two tiny instruments; he didn't notice as Al-Sheikh walked in and stood behind him.
"Mister Collier, is it?"
"Yeah." said Shaun as he turned around to see who it was, then returned his focus to the lock he was trying to pick, "Can I help you?"
"We have not been properly introduced; my name is Naif Al-Sheikh. Former head of the Saudi Arabian Secret Service and current intelligence coordinator of the opposition."
"Yeah, I know."
"Might I ask you what are you doing?"
"I'm trying to pick this bloody thing."
"Is it part of your training?"
"I guess so. Mona stopped teaching me to shoot, Priest basically washed his hands of me. I'm trying to expand my horizons, you know. What do you want?"
"Mister Priest tells me you were upset when he did not give in to your demands of telling you what was between myself and Priest, or myself and miss Sax."
"Did he, now?"
"It was none of your business at the time; it was simply between me and them. Of course, I wasn't sure about you then."
"What are you talking about?" asked Shaun as the lock clicked open.
"As part of the opposition's effort to confront the league, I have been authorized to assemble an elite unit." said Al-Sheikh as he took out a cigarette and stuck it between his teeth, "This unit will consist of a finite number of operatives and will perform highly dangerous, top-priority assignments, blacks ops. Mister Collier, I'm here to recruit you into this unit."
"What? Are you serious?" asked Shaun.
"I never jest about my work. For two months you have been undergoing a crash course in hand-to-hand combat and firearm handling, a highly painful one, as I hear. You've endured what many would buckle under. I don't have to be Sidney Reiley to figure out that you seek vengeance for what happened to your wife. I feel your pain, by the way."
"What, did the League kill your wife too?" scoffed Shaun.
"Yes, they did." said All-Sheikh as he took a drag of smoke and exhaled, "You won't get far if you decide to act on your own. If you want justice, this is your best chance."
"But why me?" asked Shaun, "Priest can kill ten gorillas with his bare hands, Mona can out-gun an army by herself, O'Brien can become anything he can imagine... What makes you think I'll be any use?"
"Because you've felt it." said Al-Sheikh, "The others have their moral codes and convictions that drive them to oppose the league, but you... You know exactly what they are capable of. I want you because you know what they're like."
"I don't know the first thing about them!"
"Yes, you do. You know of their sense of superiority, their arrogance, their hubris... You know that that they know they can do what they see fit and get away with it."
"Alright, so suppose I accept, what will I have to do?"
"I won't lie to you, It won't be pretty. You'll have to hurt people you've never met, steal and destroy. Sooner or later, you'll have to kill."
"But not innocent bystanders, right? We're only fighting the League?"
"Mister Collier, if that was not the way we operated the opposition would not exist."
Shaun hung his head.
"Okay... I'll do it."
"Excellent." said Al-Sheikh as he put out his cigarette, "You should-"
"Yea, I know, keep this between us, you'll tell me when its time. I know."
"No, that's not it." said Al-Sheikh as he walked away, "There's a set of stairs down the corridor, walk down them as deep as they will take you. You will reach a vacant sublevel. Go there room at precisely 12 am tomorrow night, head for the second door to your left."
"What for?"
"Its time you met the rest of the family."
Next Chapter: The opposition's League convene in the bowels of the opposition's bunker where they will learn of their first assignment that will pit them against the most powerful man on earth.