4th June 2170
"ON A SATURDAY AFTERNOON,
WE SUPPORT A TEAM CALLED LIVERPOOL,
AND WE SING UNTIL WE DROP,
ON THE FAMOUS SPION KOP..." chanted the ecstatic Liverpool fans as they were getting in the Stamford Bridge stadium. The team was playing against Chelsea in the quarter finals of the Premier League. Miraculously, football, the different cups and most of its clubs survived, despite the advances in technology and the colonisation. Football proved pretty resilient in the flow of time and actually flourished. Even the colonies created their own football teams, and every 4 years the Galactic Cup attracted watchers from everywhere, even alien fans who grown fond of the sport. This time however, a certain group of red clad fanatics was the point of attention. They were the 10th Street Reds, Liverpool fanatics by day, street thugs, with a say to almost any illicit activity, by night. Among them were the 18 years old Bryce Mandrel and his, now 13 years old, adopted brother Douglas Shepard. They both became inseparable over the years, one had the muscle, the other was the brains and, secretly, a psychic. Now, Douglas was using his powers to influence the Reds to chant in better unison and with louder voices, providing a morale boost to the players. While he was doing it for the team, the Reds invested a substantial amount of money in favor of Liverpool.
Bryce got his position as associate in the 10th Street Reds thanks to Shepard's indirect help. Bryce's entry assignment was to find and steal a stash of cash from an enemy crew.
With Shepard's help, who created a distraction by causing a car crash close to the stash location and making the accident victims get angry against each other, causing a fight to break out, which lured the mobsters away, allowing Bryce to steal the stash undetected. That earned him his position, 2 pints of beer and a small stack of cash. While the cash would be useful for some time, the medical bills for their mother's disease were taking a toll. They needed more money to survive. Money that no legal work could provide.
"Hey, hey, hey, here is Brycey boy and little Doug!" greeted Finch, the one who vouched for Bryce to join the Reds. Everyone turned towards him, greeting and giving handshakes. When they reached their seats in the front rows, the match started a little later. Liverpool, despite being in what was considered hostile ground, was playing remarkably well, thanks to a psychic who was using the chants of the fans as an amplifier for his powers, providing a morale boost to the players. No one knew about Shepard's powers except his family. Douglas himself claimed that secrecy was his real weapon. For his young age, he proved to be very smart and capable. Proof was his ability at repairing and sabotaging various machines and electronics, thanks to no small part to both copying the knowledge from a few mechanics and engineers who were regulars at the pub the 10th Street Reds were using as a watering hole, the Red Carp. There was no Liverpool fan, Londoner or not, who didn't know about it.
After the match, which ended with Liverpool winning 2-0, the pub was full of overjoyed fans, drinking pints of beer and downing shots like there was no tomorrow.
"OI WILKINS! NEED A FEW PINTS HERE TOO!" shouted Finch to get the attention of the grizzled bartender.
"COMING RIGHT UP LADS! CINDY, TANYA! A BOOZEHOUND FOR OUR BEST CUSTOMERS!" Wilkins shouted to the two barwomen. When the drinks were served, the atmosphere reached a new level of joviality. They were all chanting, laughing, clinging glasses and joking. Bryce and Douglas, who only got a small can of beer for himself, were both in high spirits. They got a good amount of cash from the winning bets, enough to pay for their mother's treatment. Shepard was secretly captured every thought of the people around him. Suddenly, he caught a thought of distress that was coming closer. Someone in danger maybe? The thought belonged to a heaving, sweaty man in his mid thirties:
"OI! THE PENSIONERS ARE HERE! AT LEAST 50 OF THEM! THEY WANT TO TRASH THE PLACE!"
The scream belonged to Fraser O'Leary. He was warning that the enraged Chelsea fans wanted to cause trouble. While many called him a 'Paddy fuck' because of his Irish heritage, he actually was a loyal and dedicated member of the Reds. Tough as nails, strong enough to break the face of anyone but ugly as sin. However, his warning made everyone jump in response. All present members of the Reds immediately got out and in front of the pub, ready for a brawl. Bryce and Shepard weren't strangers to the scrap. They both had experience from their gang infested school and Bryce also had to roughen up fans of opposing teams. But this wasn't just a scrap. This would be closer to a gang war, except the only weapons used would be bottles, sticks, billie clubs and anything else that could cause blunt trauma. An unwritten rule of every british gang quoting that: 'No one must bring a gun, knife or any lethal weapon to avoid drawing too much attention from the coppers.' It's been almost 250 years and very few broke the rule. Those who did usually ended up imprisoned and then murdered in the can or dead in a dark alley. This wasn't the case this time. Still, nearly 100 people ready itching for a fight wasn't an everyday occurrence. The Reds formed a wall in front of the pub, waiting for the Chelsea fans to arrive. Bryce and Douglas were in the right flank of the human wall. Protecting what was considered home territory was about reputation, something more important than money and favors. Reputation makes people respected and feared, reputation could provide lucrative job offers and reputation could earn favors. Finally, the Blues arrived and formed their own human wall opposite of the Reds. Their leader, a man named Nelson, a bull of a man with a violent streak started taunting first:
"The boys here are thirsty. Empty the pub and maybe we will pay for the drinks. Now beat it!"
The leader of the Reds, Theodore Ingram, a shrewd but dangerous man, who preferred to leave violence as a last resort but was very capable at dealing it, retorted:
"We just did. But you still have to pass through us. And the only drink we can provide is as bitter as your loss."
The Reds laughed at it, while Nelson looked ready to burst a blood vessel:
"Well, I tried to be civil. But if you're looking for a beating, who are we to let you down?"
It was the round of the Blues to hoot and laugh. Theodore was unfazed. He made a stroke with his fingers and then the Reds started swearing, shouting and taunting. Despite their status as a hooligan gang, the 10th Street Reds were remarkably disciplined and well organized, courtesy of Theodore's training and Shepard's unseen psychic help. In order to make the Reds more focused and less prone to rage, Shepard put a mental barrier to the minds
of every member of the Reds, unknown even to his brother. After the round of insults and taunts came the throwing of projectiles and then started the brawl. All hell broke loose. Punches, kicks, headbutts, grapples and strikes with blunt weapons. Shepard avoided the fight, instead watching from behind a dumpster. He saw Bryce swinging a chair leg to the face of a bald Chelsea fan, a trio of blue clad figures trying to overwhelm Travis, the big guy of the Reds, Finch pinning down and headbutting a downed Blue, Nelson charging and hitting 2 Reds like a bull, Theodore smashing someone in an advertisement post and so on. Shepard admitted that directed violence is sometimes the only way to achieve your objectives. In this case, protecting home turf from an enemy gang. Right after he finished his thought, a blue clad figure spotted him. He had a sadistic grin on his face and his right hand held a metal rod. Shepard knew that guy. It was Thomas Arlington, a real nasty piece of shit. Apart from his sadistic tendencies, he was also a pyromaniac and a complete whack job.
"Well, well lookie here. A little carp out of the pond. Makes me hungry." Thomas said with a threatening tone and licked his lips as an added effect. Shepard was unfazed. He heard so many threats and insults he barely paid attention to them. That didn't stop him from retorting however:
"OI! Go back to your cave you mental defective. Your stink is making me sick." Shepard said and then spited on the ground. Thomas immediately lunged at Shepard, trying to hit him with his rod. Douglas grabbed the dumpster's lid and used it as a shield to defend himself. But still, he was outclassed against Thomas, a 13 year old against an adult wasn't really the best chance. Eventually, the lid was knocked away from his hands and Thomas pinned him down, pishing the rod against Shepard's throat while laughing.
"Hahahaha, come on little fish, keep struggling, more fun for me." he said with a low growl. Shepard knew he had to act. He couldn't use his powers because that would attract too much attention, but he couldn't call for help either, the others were too busy. So, he started punching the maniac in the throat and kicking him in the nuts until he collapsed on him. Then he heard sirens. The cops came! Everyone scattered away. He heard his brother Bryce shouting for him, but eventually he had to bugger out too. So, here he was, pinned under a bloody corpse, covered in blood and drool. Only one phrase came to Shepard's mouth before the coppers took him:
"Bloody hell."
A few hours later, an officer was in the interrogation room where a chained Shepard was sitting:
"So, your name is Douglas Shepard, born in January 1st 2157 if the tattoo is to be trusted. You're adopted by Keith and Nancy Mandrel. You have no records of other relatives, not even distant." the officer stated.
"I also have me brother and a sister. I have a family." Shepard added.
"Yes. Bryce and Janet Mandrel. Janet is studying to become a doctor. Bryce is working in the Red Carp pub as security. Too much of a coincidence for you to just be there when there was a fight, right?" the officer asked, trying to squeeze for information.
"What is so bad about wanting to see me brother? I already told you I didn't see him. I heard a lot of people fighting and then that crazy bloke tried to crush me bloody wind pipe. I didn't have any other choice but to off him. It was self fucking defence."
"Ah yes, the dead body of Thomas Arlington. A real piece of work that bastard, no one will miss him. However, this murder was in self defence, as you said and you were unarmed against an armed psychopath. Let alone the fact you are barely a teenager. My real question is, what did you see there? The road close to you and the Red Carp pub is full of broken glass, planks and covered in blood. There was a huge fight there, like 2 other witnesses said and I want to learn from you who was there. You were the one closest in the area so, you tell me what you saw and walk away." the officer forcefully offered. Shepard read his mind and saw that there were no other witnesses about that brawl, only suspects, his brother included, but no hard evidence.
"I didn't see a bloody thing. I was pinned by that wanker you call Thomas. I heard voices and noice, but I couldn't see anything. So let me go because me parents are worried and I have school tomorrow, sir." Shepard said the last word sarcastically. He was truthful about school, he really was attending, despite his affiliation with the Reds, and was actually a good student. His powers could absorb knowledge like a sponge and his father and sister taught him to be stealthy and cautious to avoid detection. The officer was angry at the teen, but he couldn't keep him in without evidence or wittnesses. So he huffed and exited the room. On the other side of the glass panel, Shepard detected 3 presences. The police officer who interrogated him, a police detective who obviously wanted to solve the case of the gang brawl, but the third individual was the one who nearly made Shepard cringe. That individual was David Anderson, one of the best of the Hunter division and also a Londoner. It took a lot of willpower from Shepard not to show his shock and surprise.
"Shit must have got real bad for a bloody hunter to come here sniffing like a godamn bloodhound." he monologued as silently as possible.
From the other side of the panel, Anderson took an interest in the brat with the jet black, straight and very short hair, the grey eyes and the chin scar. The boy managed to kill a stronger and armed foe and stayed coherent afterwards. He also kept his mouth shut about what he knew. He could make a good hunter someday. Anderson's real interest in London was actually to relax because he was in shore leave. After he heard about the brawl close to the Red Carp and hearing that a boy managed to survive and eliminate a vicious arsonist without weapons or tricks made him want to see what Douglas Shepard was really capable of:
"Detective, I want to talk to the boy." he said. The detective nodded and escorted him to the door of the interrogation room.
Shepard immediately raised his head, hiding his anxiety about the figure who got inside, and quipped:
"Well, you sure don't look like a copper. You are no suit or lawyer either. What the fuck are you?"
Anderson was unfazed by the insult and calmly answered:
"My name is David Anderson and I am a soldier, a lieutenant commander to be precise. I find your skill and wit extraordinary. So, I am interested to persuade you to join the army."
Shepard's eye twitched at the answer.
"NO BLOODY WAY YOU FUCKING ZULU CUNT! I will not abandon me family! Me mum is sick and me dad told me about the army. All he earned was a leg injury and a miserable pension after he was injured in the 3 warlord rebellions. So, no godamn way you can make me join." Shepard answered.
Anderson just amirked and retorted:
"I knew your real father kiddo. And you remind me of him."
Shepard stood shock still and silent to the revelation. His mind was in the verge of going berserk. It took all of Shepard's willpower and training to keep it together.
When he calmed down, he used his powers to read Anderson's mind and found that he was telling the truth:
"What the bloody hell you talking about?" Shepard asked.
"Your father was Sebastian Shepard, one of the best CISP operators and his family, YOUR family, was in the service for more than 2 centuries. Here, I have this dossier for you, take a look." Anderson said and offered a thick dossier filled with papers. Shepard was intrigued and started reading. He read about Gregory Shepard the peacekeeper, Delilah Shepard the veteran of the rebellions, Warren 'Mad dog' Shepard and many others. War was literally in the blood of Douglas Shepard, if what Anderson was saying was true. Of course, his powers said that Anderson was telling the truth, but what if the information was mistaken? Shepard had to investigate further:
"Why me? There are others with the same surname as mine, how can you be so sure?" he asked
"A few years before your father disappeared, he made me an offer. He said that he was going to have a son and he wanted me to train you. He gave me something to help me identify you in case anything happened to any of you." Anderson said and pulled out a small, transparent case. Inside it was a black revolver. Shepard was almost mesmerized by it. The weapon looked ancient, but it was in pristine condition.
"This is a Ruger Redhawk 8 shooter .357 caliber. Modified by Sebastian himself to chamber specialised ammo and with enough punch to break almost any sort of shielding or kinetic barrier with only one shot. I saw him using it. He could draw, shoot and holster in less than 0.3 seconds. Also, to answer your question, there was some of his DNA on the gun. It matches yours." Anderson said to Shepard. He was telling the truth.
"Do you know what happened to me father?" Shepard asked.
"All I know is that he disappeared somewhere here in London. No traces, no witnesses, no evidence, no footage. Except you." Anderson answered truthfully.
"Do you know anything about me mother then?"
"I asked the same question to him myself. He didn't answer. All he said was that she was really good, if you know what I mean." Anderson said.
"Yeah, I understand, he screwed her really well. Anyway, I am not persuaded to join the army despite my history. My family is here and I am not leaving them." Shepard finally decided, his Londoner accent breaking. Anderson shook his head in disappointment and said:
"Well, you are still young and passionate. One day you may take things a little more seriously. Here's my card." Anderson said as he raised from his chair and left a black card with white letters on the table. Before he opened the door however, he turned and smirked to Shepard saying:
"I really believe it's a total waste to use your gifts for a bunch of hooligans however, don't you agree?" Anderson winked and exited the room. Shepard was agitated at the answer. Did Anderson really know about his powers? Or he just said it because he was impressed from his prowess? Shepard thought against using his powers to avoid possible detection. Then an officer came to unshackle him and in half an hour, he was back home. He didn't talk with anyone, he didn't eat anything, he just directly went to bed. In his pale fingers he held the black card. He was debating what to do.
"When shit is bad, just go to sleep bruv."
The voice belonged to Bryce. He understood the ordeal Shepard went through. Or so he thought:
"I know it's nasty to kill someone little brother, but better him than you." he tried to calm Douglas out.
"I don't give a rat's ass about that cunt. I didn't say anything about that godamned brawl. Me real problem is that sheep fucker who gave me this card." he said and showed the black card. It only had a phone address and a symbol. Two crossed rifles and a wolf head above them. Around it was a phrase. 'Alone or together, we hunt'.
"A hunter visited you? What the hell for?"
Bryce asked in disbelief.
"He said that he was impressed by me killing someone and said that it is a waste to be part of a gang. He also said he knows about me real parents." Douglas answered. Bryce raised his head at that:
"What? Was he telling the truth?"
"Yeah. My father apparently was a CISP operator, one of the best. The wanker who told me about that actually worked with him. My whole family actually served for more than 2 centuries. He also knows that my father disappeared somewhere in London, ghost like. Then he made me this offer to enlist and train under him." Shepard recalled.
"Shit bruv, what a mess man." Bryce said, putting his hands on his head at that revelation.
"Right, and this isn't even the worst part. He also said that it is a pity to waste my gifts for a gang. He probably knows I'm a psychic. I am royally fucked bruv." Douglas said, his anxiety and desperation obvious as day.
Bryce thought for a bit and offered a possible solution:
"He is likely baiting you bruv. Listen, keep close with us and keep using your abilities as stealthily as possible. Also use your tech knowledge. If that bastard is really watching you, I bet me right arm he is, he will try to spot changes in your routine and habits. That's how spies and even hunters work. So, try to act as normal as possible and be cautious for anything suspicious."
"Alright. That may work. But what about this card?" Shepard asked.
"Eh, put it in a drawer. Not many can say they got a visit from a hunter and lived ." Bryce recommended.
"Alright then Bryce. Thanks for listening."
Shepard said with gratitude.
"Anytime little brother." Bryce said and patted Douglas to the shoulder. Unknown to them all, someone heard everything from the card, which was actually a microphone with an antenna.
"Even fewer can say they were trained by a hunter Douglas." Anderson said to himself, a few kilometres away in a hotel room.
