

Guards of Doomsday

J HAWK

Copyright © 2018 J Hawk

All rights reserved. No part of this book or any of its content may be reproduced or distributed in any form without prior written permission of the author.

## ~

Raze stood by the window, his hands on the railings in front. His vision passed rows of buildings and desolate, empty streets between them. From the elevated position of the apartment, he had a wide view of the town. Misty fogs had settled on some of the streets, obscuring sight. There was no trace of people in the area.

Gazing down at the deserted town for a few silent moments, Raze stood before the large window.

Turning around, he looked down at his feet. The body of the uniformed man lay there, unmoving.

Raze reached inside of his coat pocket, and slowly brought out a small disc. He observed the small device for a moment, and his gaze moved back to the man lying by his feet. A high ranking intelligence officer in this nation. Raze had come here to get hold of this disc from the man.

Sliding the device back into his coat pocket, Raze made his way out of the apartment.

All was about to change...

## ~

Dan walked into the café with a newspaper in his hand. The room was filled with chatter, with people at every table. Waiters in white strode about the place with trays in their hands.

Taking a seat opposite to a young man, Dan ordered a medium coffee. It took less than a minute for the waiter to return with his order, placing a steaming mug before him.

Taking a sip off the cup, Dan unwrapped the newspaper and began reading.

As a CIA agent, this had been a routine he followed for the past twenty five years.

The sound of cars honking could be heard outside of the café, with the regular morning rush in Washington DC's streets. Cyclists and joggers passed on the pavement outside, along with suited men striding briskly with briefcases.

Dan adjusted the small device clipped to his shirt. While on duty, everything that he did needed to be recorded. This device transmitted whatever was happening around him live to their headquarters. This helped to keep the agency connected with their men, and also to send backup whenever needed.

Dan briefly went through the news at the front page.

At the top was something about their president's current trip to the UK, and details surrounding it.

Coming right below was a piece about Russia and its allies on the other side of the red-line, and the prevailing tension since the war...

And after this was something about minor scuffles outside a night club here in this city.

Closing the paper, Dan took another sip of coffee. His gaze roamed to the youngster across the table.

"Nothing new in the news these days." he said.

The young man ran a hand through his messy brown hair.

"Not if you don't read." he responded.

Dan gave the front pages a quick glance, before folding the paper.

"Can't survive without knowing what's going on around you, can you kid?"

He knew that being a CIA agent meant not only having to be in touch with the news, but having to be ahead of it.

Dan sat there for a few minutes, finishing his coffee while the youngster finished his. He checked his watch once to note the time.

His phone began ringing, the sound cutting into the chatter in the room. Gently setting the coffee mug down, Dan answered the call.

He recognised the voice on the line as Simon, a fellow agent in the CIA.

"Dan," Simon's voice had a grain of nervousness to it. "Listen carefully, and don't reply to what I'm going to tell you now."

Dan waited, frowning.

"We're catching whatever's going on through the camera on your shirt." Simon went on. "The guy sitting across the table is listed by Interpol as a most-wanted criminal. His name is Ron Andris and he's wanted by security agencies across the continents. You're currently having coffee with one of the most wanted men in the world."

Dan was looking out the window by his right as he held the phone. Through the corner of his vision, he could see the kid sitting as he was. Completely carefree.

Simon continued, "We're sending in a batch of our officers and cops to the café you're now in, to apprehend him. They'll be arriving anytime now. We're just calling to inform you of this."

The line cut.

Dan pocketed the phone, and sat there as he was.

Sitting across the table, Ron took another sip from his cup. He took a moment to look about the café. There were a variety of people that he could see in here. People who had just finished their morning exercise. Executives in their suits and ties, here to have their breakfast before heading to work. Teenagers, youngsters...

He glanced at the man sitting opposite to him. He was wearing a coat, and appeared to be heading for work as well. He was buried behind the newspaper that he had supposedly finished reading a few moments back.

Ron couldn't help but feel that the guy suddenly appeared reserved...

He took another sip from his cup, and waited for a few moments. Then, draining his mug in a final gulp, Ron got up and headed for the exit.

He pushed the glass door open, letting it swing to a close behind him.

He stood there, letting his gaze scroll over the street in front of him. Watching the sea of vehicles and pedestrians mingling together to form the substance of the busy street.

And then, the sound of police sirens drew from nearby... Ron looked down the road, where the sound was coming from. It was growing louder. Fast approaching.

A group of cars sped out from a lane on the right further down the road. Some of them were police cars, and some had the CIA label on them.

Ron had his eyes fixed on the sight. The CIA and police cars together rushed forward from many blocks away, the wail of their sirens piercing the air. He knew that they were here for him.

Turning over, Ron dashed down the road. The police cars were less than a hundred metres from him... He sprinted along the pavement, weaving through the crowd of people walking on it.

Behind him, the sound of sirens was growing louder. One of the men was yelling from a speaker, "Ron Andris, stop right there!"

Without thinking, Ron leapt through the open door of a car parked by the side. By the driver's seat beside him, the owner of the car stared at him, horrified.

Setting himself straight, Ron knocked the man out through with a swift swing of his fist, before sliding over to the driver's seat and taking the wheel.

_____________

Inside of one of the CIA cars, the agency's director Jim Falon watched.

The man they were chasing had just broken into a car by the pavement, pushing the owner out. The car roared to life and went lurching forward.

Falon gritted his teeth. He turned to the man driving beside him. "Faster, faster!"

He spoke into the walkie-talkie in his hand, while his vehicle went surfing down the lane.

"We cannot let the suspect escape." he yelled through the combined wail of sirens from their vehicles. "Make sure that we don't lose him!"

Together, the cars raised their speed, sailing down the street after the suspect.

_____________

Ron's car swerved into a lane by the right. He held the steering wheel firmly with both hands, his foot pressing the gas-pedal.

Through the rear-view mirror, he could see the police cars skid as they tried to make the turn. Some of them crashed into the pavement, leaving broken bits of asphalt to fly over the air. Others swung into the lane, drifting heavily. They were now farther behind Ron than they had been earlier.

Smiling, Ron floored the accelerator. He horned rapidly, bypassing any other vehicle on the road.

He was nearing an intersection at the end of this road.

Ron sent a glance back. The police were inching close to him... less than fifty feet's distance.

Slamming the brakes as he neared the intersection, he turned into the road on the right. His body was thrust to the left as the machine twisted through the corner at high speed.

Ron steadied the machine with his hands firm on the wheel. He sped down this road for a mere few seconds, before braking again and pushing the car into a narrow lane by the left.

He gave another fleeting glance back. The cops weren't here yet.

He turned into an alleyway by the left, and then stopped the car.

Throwing the door open, he leapt out and ran to the building on the right of the alley. He reached for the thin metallic door at the base of the building.

As he opened the door, he found a stairway leading downwards. Shutting the door behind him, he rushed down the stairs.

_____________

Falon watched as they followed the suspect's trail, arriving inside of a small alleyway.

They all came to a halt in the alley. The suspect's car was parked right in front of them.

Doors flew open as Falon and the other CIA officers together climbed out of their cars. They could tell that there was only one route that the suspect could have taken from here...

His blood still racing, Falon walked towards the metal door by the building on the right. The officers stood behind him, their guns drawn.

Falon pushed the door open, and found a stairway leading underground.

He turned to the men behind him, a smile now curving across his lips. "One-way road. We've got him."

He gestured for the men to remain where they were and wait.

Careful not to make too much noise as he stepped, Falon made his way down the stairs.

_____________

Falon arrived at the basement. The lights were out, and it was all dark.

Falon stopped at the base of the stairs, reaching for his gun. He knew that the enemy was in here, alone and cornered.

"I've got you now." he said softly.

The lights suddenly turned on. Ron Andris stood at the centre of the room, looking at Falon.

"It's the other way around, chief." He spoke directly to Falon. "I've got you now."

He gestured to the gun Falon was holding. "You can put that down..."

Falon felt a second of confusion, and then the realisation broke. This man had intended for the CIA to find him and pursue him. He had planned all of this just to lure Falon in here...

"Listen very carefully," Ron said, looking at the CIA chief. "There's something very important that I have to tell you, that you really must hear."

Falon stood where he was, gun still half raised. He was frowning.

"What is this?" he asked.

"There's something extremely dangerous working its way forward." Ron's tone was grim. "This concerns the security of not just America, but the whole world. If you don't take a moment to listen to what I'm saying, you're really going to regret it."

Silence fell between them.

Falon's posture was just as tense, his gun in his hands. He was scowling as he considered Ron, and his mind seemed to be at work.

Falon grabbed a walkie-talkie from his pocket, and spoke into it: "All units, get inside here, now! Suspect is cornered. Get here now!"

Ron felt his jaws clench in frustration. Turning, he dashed across the room towards the other door by the opposite wall.

As he tore across the room, a gunshot split the air. Without turning back, Ron leapt towards the door. As he wrenched the door open, another shot rang out and the bullet hit the door. Missing Ron by inches.

Ron shut the door behind him and sprang up the stairs.

As he reached the top, he found himself emerging on the other side of the building.

The sound of sirens screeching broke in the air again. The police cars would be rushing towards him from the other side anytime now.

Taking a quick breath, Ron stormed into the lane outside. He streaked down the pavement, before turning into a main road that arrived on the right.

A double decker public bus came rolling by.

Without pausing, Ron went hurtling forwards towards the bus. As he neared the vehicle, he took a leap and landed at its open front door.

Gripping a handle near him, he balanced himself and then walked into the vehicle.

_____________

After rushing across the building, the police cars sped down the lane and turned into the main road at the right.

They halted slowly, finding that the suspect was nowhere in sight.

Falon exited from one of the vehicles, gazing down the entire street. He stood there for a few seconds, carefully surveying the place. The young man was nowhere to be seen...

Gritting his teeth, Falon swore under his breath.

## ~

Raze was walking down the road, his strides measured and slow.

Lined on either side of the road were old buildings with a tarnished look. A few cars were parked by the side of the street.

Raze kept his head lowered as he made his way forth. Stretched across his face was a long scar that he knew was capable of unsettling most people. He pushed a strand of his long maroon hair off his face as he walked on.

Focus and determination filled him from within.

He was here for a greatly important task...

Without breaking his stride, Raze continued walking.

## ~

Standing about the large hall were five men. All of them were in their mid twenties.

They were in the second storey of the large villa, and there was scarce furniture spread over the place.

The men appeared to be deep in thought, some of them gazing at the floor ahead of them. All of them had large, animated tattoos spreading over their skin. Three of them wore vests, while the other two were wearing T-shirts.

Sunny, the man at the centre, had a tattoo of a dragon that stretched all the way over his torso, through his neck and onto his face. He was lean and muscular, his toned physique accentuated through his tight vest.

A few seconds of silence passed, before Sunny looked at the man leaning against the wall on his right.

"Let's do this." he told Gabriel, who stopped leaning against the wall and gave a nod.

The five of them walked across the large hall towards a room by the side. Pushing the room's door open, the men slowly walked in.

At the centre of the room was a man sitting tied on a chair.

The five men paused before the man, who sat facing the other side.

He was wearing a cloak, with long black hair that fell on either side of his face. He was completely still as he sat there, bound. A black tattoo was inscribed by the base of his wrist. A strangely designed Egyptian hieroglyph that resembled an eye.

Sunny spent a moment studying the man. "What's his name?"

"Eyra." Gabriel replied.

Sunny slowly walked across to the other side, standing face to face with Eyra. Looking down at the man, he slid his hand into his pocket and brought out a handgun. The other four followed suit, drawing their weapons as well. A sense of glee kindled within the room.

Sunny knew that men were present on the ground floor of the villa to keep a guard over this place. There were chances that the police or law enforcement agencies showed up here sometime.

Bending down before Eyra, Sunny whispered, "Time to talk."

Eyra had a tinge of gray on his skin that made him look strange... His thin figurine was sunken into the chair. He was sitting still, quiet. As Sunny stood bent before him, Eyra slowly raised his head, levelling his gaze with him.

Sunny spent a moment looking into those deep, dark eyes. There was no fear within them.

"Tell us who you work for." Sunny said softly.

Moments passed. Eyra sat as he was, his black eyes steadily frozen over Sunny's.

Feeling his patience ebb, Sunny looked at the four others.

Getting the cue, they dug their hands into their pockets, pulling out knives and razors. They were all glaring at Eyra from behind, a hunger in their eyes.

Sunny bent down over the captive again. "We've gotten a lot of people to spill their secrets. And we're going to have no problem getting you to spill yours either, scum."

A smile rose to Eyra's face.

"Clearly the men you've dealt with can't hide their secrets well enough."

Sunny paused, feeling a brief surprise. This was not the kind of response he expected from a powerless prisoner.

The thugs standing behind Eyra leered and licked their lips.

"You wanna act tough?" snarled Gabriel, walking forward. "So did the last person who messed with us..."

"Before we cut him into pieces and fed him to the dogs." finished one of the men standing behind Eyra.

"But that's nothing compared to what we're planning for you." said Sunny. "Start talking, or you'll regret crossing us."

"Let's give him some of it," said Gabriel. "Maybe then he'll understand what we're really about."

Eyra continued to sit there quietly. His eyes still on Sunny. He appeared unnaturally calm.

Sunny bent closer to the captive, feeling his patience wear thin. "Who are you, and who do you work for?"

Silence lingered for many moments.

And then, the sound of gunfire from below shattered the silence.

The five men wheeled to the entrance of the room.

"Cops..." whispered Gabriel.

Panic gripped the room.

Fierce gunfire could be felt resounding over the ground floor. Sunny stood where he was, his grip on his handgun tightening. A gun-battle was taking place on the ground floor...

It went on for some time. The explosive sound of bullets. Screams and shouts. And then silence...

Sunny and the rest of the men stared at the doorway, transfixed.

"I'll go check it out." Gabriel said. Raising his pistol, he barged out of the room.

The men waited, listening to his footsteps as he stormed outside.

The sound of gunfire erupted once more. And a loud, prolonged scream from Gabriel echoed within the place...

Terror sank inside of the room. The other four men held their guns pointed at the entrance.

"Who the hell is this?" Sunny said, feeling a shiver spread through him.

Sitting tied on the chair, Eyra smiled. "It's my apprentice."

Raze launched through the entrance, his rifle aimed and shooting rapidly.

The gangsters in the room sent feeble shots at him, but none of them managed to hit him. The explosive noise of bullets drowned out the room as Raze sprayed gunfire onto the four thugs. Howls broke within the room as the thugs stumbled and hit the ground. All of them were dead except for Sunny, who was lying sideways on the ground, clutching his shoulder. A dark stain was spreading over the spot.

Raze slowly walked upto the man with the dragon tattoo as he lay on the ground, bleeding.

Sunny's eyes hovered upwards to meet Raze's. Terror filled his eyes.

"You asked who I work for." said Eyra, sitting tied on the chair. "I work for the shadows."

Raze's gun exploded. Sunny rolled over on the ground, shuddering once before going still.

Raze lowered his weapon, and turned to his master.

He bowed once before Eyra, even as he sat bound to the chair.

"Master."

Picking up a knife that had fallen from one of the gangsters, he cut Eyra free.

Eyra rose from the chair, rubbing the region in his wrist where the ropes had been tied. "You've done well."

His eyes strayed over the four dead gangsters. They were part of a ring of drug dealers. Eyra had required something from them. This was a petty task, one that could have been accomplished anytime.

He turned to Raze. His foremost and best lieutenant. The man that Eyra knew he could trust with anything...

"Is the task that you were sent for accomplished?" he inquired.

Raze's scarred face was as expressionless as ever. He reached inside of his pocket, and then brought out something. It was a small disc...

Eyra could feel a smile gleam on his face. "Excellent."

As he took the disc from Raze's outstretched hand, his vision crossed the eye-shaped tattoo at the base of his wrist. The same one Eyra wore. The Eye of Horus, as it was called.

The two of them walked out of the room, and down the stairs. The ground floor was littered with bodies, some unconscious and some dead. They made their way out of this large house, pausing outside of the entrance.

"Now, you must be aware of an essential task that you have." Eyra told his apprentice. "One of immense importance."

Raze gave a nod of understanding. "I am aware."

Eyra took in a deep breath, and went on. "This one is crucial for us, and we cannot leave any room for failure. And I need it completed as soon as possible." Looking at Raze, he said, "I need your assurance that it will be done."

For the space of a moment, Eyra's thoughts were fixated over that name. A new set of emotions were roused within him as distant memories clouded his mind.

Raze's eyes gleamed with hunger and determination. "I can give you my word, master... within twelve hours, Ron Andris will be dead."

## ~

Somewhere in an empty apartment in an abandoned suburb of Washington, Ron was sitting on a creaky sofa. Staring out of the window.

The flat he was in had an old, tarnished look to it. Cracks spread through the wall, which was dressed in a faded grey colour. The only furniture occupying the small hall were the sofa he was sitting on and a table by the centre.

A large portion of this entire suburb was left in a similar state. Almost uninhabited for years now.

It had taken Ron a few hours to make his way out of the city and find himself a safe haven here. He knew that this place would make him harder to track.

Ron gave a deep sigh as he sat there, exhausted.

But more than the physical exertion... it was the mental burden that was taking a toll on him.

Ron closed his eyes, feeling the ebb and flow of his breath. It was a rhythmic, relaxing pattern... Through the silence, it was tranquilising.

He could feel the turmoil within him. The heavy sensations.

As he sat there, looking out the window in silence, his thoughts roamed back to his past.

The past...

Immediately, he felt as though he were sucked into a whirlwind... Powerful, sweeping.

He remembered everything that had happened... The road that had led him here.

Closing his eyes, Ron rested his head against the sofa. He shook his meanderings off, bringing himself back to the present.

Mustering his energy, he rose from the sofa and walked into the room nearby.

## ~

Ten years ago

Shivering slightly, Ron walked down the road. He had a small, tattered cloth wrapped around him to fend off the cold of the night.

The street was completely empty, and a desolate feel hung over the air. On either side, there was a row of small apartments. Some of them were broken and torn, with gaping holes and cracks that spread through their length.

Some were completely reduced to rubble.

Ron was just above ten years old. He had a small and scrawny physique, with untidy brown hair that fell down to his eyes. He was wearing an oversized shirt and a pair of old trousers.

He squinted as he looked ahead. Dense fogs cloaked the street far ahead, so that little could be seen in front of it.

Latvia, his home, was a torn country...

For more than fifteen years now, a deadly civil war had been raging here. Multiple armed factions fought for control, plunging the whole nation into devastation and despair.

Ron had been born into a time of gloom and dread. He had no home... No family. All he knew since he could remember was the streets.

He gazed by the wall next to him. There were random scribblings and etchings sprayed through the wall. Most of them were in Latvian while some were in Russian.

Occupying a prominent spot on the massive wall was a large symbol painted in red. Ron knew that it was a sign used by one of the more deadly insurgent groups to mark their territory.

This was their territory.

Ron had heard about the ruthlessness of this particular rebel group.

A blank, exhausted feeling filled Ron. He was tired... hungry. He hadn't gotten anything to eat for days now.

Wondering if he could find any food in these buildings, Ron paused and gazed down the block.

There was a window just ahead of him that led to the inside of one of the apartments.

Trudging upto it, Ron climbed through the window and found himself landing quietly in the kitchen of an abandoned flat. It was relatively small, with broken shelves and debris fallen from the walls. A refrigerator stood opposite to him. Rushing upto it, Ron opened the door and rummaged through everything inside.

He emerged with a few cans of vegetables and an old bottle of juice.

Sitting down by the wall, he placed the items before him and ravenously began eating.

He felt a relish like no other in every bite, not even bothered to care about the taste and quality. He knew that nothing he had eaten before could have brought the relief that he felt now.

Completely forgetting everything else, Ron sat there and munched through the vegetables.

The sound of footsteps came by the door of the kitchen.

Ron stopped and looked up.

Standing by the door of the kitchen was a man with a long assault rifle. He had a thick unshaven beard, and was wearing a black coat. And on the chest of the coat was the symbol Ron had seen on the wall outside... This was a member of the rebel group controlling this region.

His heart stopping, Ron pushed away the food and made to get up.

The gunman was considering him for a long moment. The most intense seconds of Ron's life.

And then, the man turned over and called out to someone Ron couldn't see, waving for attention.

In a second, five more gunmen had arrived by the kitchen. All of them were wearing black coats with their group's symbol on it. All of them were toned and muscular, with a steely origin in their expressions.

They stood by the kitchen's door and stared at the ten year old boy before them. And there was a ravenous look in all of their eyes. Ron could tell that these were not ordinary men. They had gone through cycles of violence and carnage that had de-sensitised and brutalised them.

One of them walked upto Ron and clutched him by the front of his shirt.

"What the hell are you doing in here, kid?" the man demanded, speaking in Latvian. There was a roughness in his voice that made him sound more like an animal than a normal man. "You think you can sneak in here and steal our food?"

Lifted by the front of his shirt, Ron struggled to keep his feet to the ground.

"I – I didn't know!" he squealed. "I thought this was –"

Before the words left his mouth, the man's fist smacked him across the face.

Ron stumbled and fell to the side. His head bumped against the top of the shelf. He sat there, groaning in pain... terrified.

Another man spat, "You sneak into our turf, and then crawl into our space here?" He walked forward and hurled a kick across his face. Ron felt spit fly from his mouth as he slid to the ground. His vision blurred with tears at the pain of the shot.

"He could be an informant for all we know." said the first man who had arrived at the kitchen. "Let's take him outside and deal with him."

The men dragged him outside and threw onto the cold street.

One of them held his rifle aimed at Ron, who covered himself with his hands, shivering.

"Please... don't."

"This is our territory... and you knew what would happen if you snuck in here." the man growled. "Now, you're gonna have to pay the price."

The man in front loaded his rifle and took aim, while the others stood behind him and leered...

Ron knew that this was it. He squeezed his eyes shut, braced himself to face a hail of bullets.

The sound of gunshots pierced the air.

Ron froze, waiting for the pain to come. But as he opened his eyes, he saw two of the men drop to the ground. Dead.

The four remaining gunman wheeled around to face the other end of the street, which was engulfed in fog. Gunfire burst out from there once more.

Yelling in fury, the men fired back indiscriminately. But before they knew it, two more of them had been struck down... The bullets from the other side came with a deadly precision.

The two remaining men reloaded and continued firing, but they unconsciously stepped back as they did.

A well aimed bullet hit one of them right in the face. The insurgent was thrown back at the force of the shot. He crashed onto the ground, where he lay still.

The last of the rebels looked around, terror clouding his features. Throwing his gun down, he ran to the other side.

Keeping himself on the ground, Ron watched the man reach a few feet's distance. Shots rang in the air once more. The man toppled to the ground, struck in multiple areas in his back. His body quivered a few times, before going still.

Breathing rapidly, Ron turned around and peered into the fogs in front... His heart was beating quickly, as he tried to make out who it was on the other side.

The faint outline of a man formed in the mists. His silhouette grew more solid as he slowly approached.

Ron was sitting in the middle of the road, his eyes frozen over the man.

The man's outline grew clear as he walked out of the mists. In the dim lighting of the night, Ron could tell that he was tall and thin. A long assault rifle was hanging in one of his hands.

The man's eyes were fixed over Ron as he walked forward. He stopped right in front of Ron, looking down at him quietly.

This was the man who would go on to become Ron's closest friend and greatest mentor.

Bending down, the man held out a hand towards Ron.

"You're safe now, child." he said. "My name is Eyra."

## ~

The present

Cairo, Egypt

The inside of the small room was dark, lifeless and gloomy. The only traces of light seeped in through the gaps in the door in front.

Sitting with his back against the wall was an old, frail man. He had a long white beard and was adorned in frayed, tattered clothes.

There was a hollow sensation in his eyes as he sat with back pressed to the wall.

Matt Colen had been imprisoned here for over four months. He had come to this country a year ago to conduct research for the institution he worked for. Within a few months of his arrival, he had been arrested by the government forces, charged with 'attempting to overthrow the regime' and placed behind bars.

Matt knew that there were very slim chances the US government could secure his release. They had anything but a friendly relation with this country...

Matt sat there, staring at the door. Kept in isolation and deprived of sunlight, he felt at times that he was losing his mind...

Closing his eyes, Matt took in a deep breath, attempting to shut off his thoughts.

The coarse texture of the wall prickled his back.

Loud sounds from outside the prison drew his attention. Matt looked through the gap in the doorway, wondering if he could see something.

Heated voices, yelling. And then, the sound of gunfire tore through the air.

Matt froze. The noises drew on. And panic built within him. What the hell's going on?...

A few seconds passed, and the door opposite to him burst open.

As light flooded the room for the first time, Matt squinted and covered his eyes.

Standing at the door was a young woman with long scarlet hair. She was wearing a brown coat, with a handgun in her hand.

"Mr Colen, I'm April Rhodes. I'm with the CIA." She walked forward, offering Matt a hand. "I'm here to rescue you."

Dazed, Matt quickly grabbed her hand, and she pulled him up.

"Stay with me." said April, supporting Matt with one hand. The two of them ran out of the prison and emerged into a long corridor. Without pausing, April pulled Matt forward as they raced down the corridor and turned to the right.

As they emerged there, they saw two prison guards rushing towards them from in front. Both of them armed.

The guards aimed and fired at the two of them.

Fast as a flash, April threw Matt to the ground and dove to the side. The bullets hit the ground behind them, and clouds of dust erupted. Raising her handgun, April shot twice.

The two guards tumbled to the ground, clutching their legs.

April grabbed Matt and heaved him back up. "Come on, come on, let's go!"

The two of them stormed down the hallway, turned into the stairway by the right and went racing up.

"Where're we going?" asked Matt, panting as he ran. "The exit's downstairs!"

April didn't answer, but continued running up the stairs.

They emerged onto the roof in a few moments. It sprawled out over a large empty area. A black helicopter awaited at the centre. The door was open, and a US marine stood there with his rifle.

"Come on, come on!" he yelled, his voice blocked by the beating of the chopper's wings.

April and Matt dashed across the large roof to where the chopper awaited.

The marine quickly helped Matt board the helicopter.

"We're taking off," the marine told April, as she got in.

"Yeah, go now!"

The marine gave the driver a thumb's up and jumped into the chopper.

An enormous blast of air occurred as the helicopter rose into the sky. April watched as the prison building shrunk in size, along with the streets of Cairo.

They were now airborne. A weightless sensation took over inside the chopper.

"On the mark, April." the marine said, smiling.

April was looking out into the scene below them. "Thanks, Lillard."

Lillard rested his rifle on the seat beside him, reclining on his seat. His eyes moved to professor Colen, who sat beside April, looking stunned.

"Congratulations, professor." Lillard said, nodding at the man. "You're free now. We're taking you home."

The old man nodded feebly, before looking at April by his right.

"The CIA managed to track you down in Cairo less than a week ago." she explained slowly. "They knew that diplomacy had failed, and they decided to organise a team to rescue you."

"Thank you." said Colen, sounding speechless. He looked into the skies outside, and his eyes filled with tears. He was in reverence over his newfound freedom.

April smiled. Such rare missions reminded her why she had joined the CIA. To promote freedom. To build peace.

Her smile flickered and faded.

She looked outside. The city below had now sunk into a small maze of buildings and streets. Hardly larger than toys.

"We'll be arriving at a US airbase in Turkey soon." explained Lillard. "And as soon as we do, we'll get to the airport and have both of you on the first plane home."

"Good to hear, Lillard." said April. "What about you?"

"Oh, I've gotta remain in our military base in Turkey for just a few more days. We've got a few drills to finish. Me and my boys would be coming home to our station beside Washington this Friday."

Lillard was the commander of a battalion of a few thousand soldiers. Some of the CIA's operations involved the army as well, and that's how April had gotten to know him well over the time.

"Well, great to see you again, pal." said April.

"Hell of a mission." Lillard nodded. "Haven't seen you this good in action since we toppled Umri last year."

April nodded, shifting her gaze to the window. She knew he was talking about an operation that the CIA had led a few months ago, to push an armed uprising that ousted the Libyan leader, Mohammed Umri. April had been one of the many agents working on the field, co-ordinating and assisting the rebels as they took control.

Professor Matt seemed suddenly surprised. "Toppled Umri?... You mean you guys helped to overthrow Muhammed Umri in Libya?"

Lillard looked at the professor. "Of course. You don't think the rebels could've won without our support, do you?" He stretched his hands over the seats, relaxing. "We helped rid their country of a dictator."

And slaughtered thousands of innocent people along the way. April thought quietly.

They arrived at Ankara, Turkey's capital, where the US military base was installed. April and Matt were sent off to the US through the airport. Arriving in Washington, Matt was received by officials by the state department.

April was now back in the CIA's headquarters, sitting in her air conditioned room. The large desk that she sat before had a stack of papers by the side, and a cup with pens beside it.

A few portraits and a certificate hung by the wall on her right. Emblazoned on the door opposite to her was the crest of the CIA.

April sat reclined on the chair, taking a moment to relax following a hectic day.

She dwelled on the operation that had been accomplished. It could have gone wrong in various instances. They were taking huge risks with such operations abroad. In unfamiliar and dangerous territory.

But April had handled enough in the past to be to pull this one off effortlessly.

She had been in the field for over two years now. Working on the ground in some of the most uncharted, unpredictable and life-threatening situations.

The things that April had done since joining the agency were no ordinary feats. She had earned her name in the agency as one of their youngest and most talented operatives.

And yet, here she was. Feeling hollow. Empty. Confused.

Sighing, April rose from her chair and walked down the room slowly.

Years ago, she had joined the CIA under the belief that she would be doing good. Helping protect life and global freedom.

Just a few weeks into the job, the ugly reality came out before her.

The reality of this system that she was a part of. A system that was tearing down far more than it was re-building.

April paused by the portraits hanging by the wall. They were taken on the day she graduated from the agency's training institution. Her certificate was emblazoned proudly at the centre. April felt surreal as she stared at it and the portraits. The feeling of joy, pride and purpose that she had felt when she initially hung those portraits there was now erased.

She gazed at the emblem of the CIA. It was perched majestically at the centre of the door. April stood there for a long moment, watching the emblem that she had been living with for years now.

Everything that she had done for this organisation, both on and off the field, had been for one sole goal.

Power.

For decades now, the CIA, the pentagon and all branches of the US government had worked in the shadows to control global affairs. They worked relentlessly to identify nations in the way of their interests, and quietly eliminate their leadership directly or indirectly. Where they couldn't use open military force, they used indirect means, sponsoring military coups, rebellions and even terrorist groups to undermine their enemies' influence.

That was the only motive that the CIA, as well as the country's government, had. To solidify American dominance in the world.

Those that stood in their way vanished. One by one.

April closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her thoughts flew back to a year ago, when she had been in Libya to guide and support the armed rebellion. She was there secretly, working along with a handful of CIA operatives and special forces officers. And together, they followed their government's orders and plunged a peaceful country into violence and chaos.

Walking back to her desk, April quietly slid back into her seat. The time was half past ten. She knew she had to get to work.

As she reached for the files under her desk, the phone started ringing.

"Yeah?" she said, answering the call.

Jim Falon, the director of the agency and her boss, spoke on the other side of the line.

"Congrats on the operation. I was just briefed by the state department."

"Thanks, Jim."

"I need to have a meeting with you." Falon told her. "Get to my desk after lunch, would you?"

"Sure." replied April.

The line cut, and April gently tucked her phone back into her pocket.

_____________

A few hours later, April was sitting in her boss's office. It was empty, with Falon currently in a meeting elsewhere.

She allowed her gaze to roam about the large, posh-looking room. The walls and roof were all coloured in faint blue. The massive desk before her was heaped with stacks of papers and files. A miniature American flag was kept in a cup by the corner.

April had been accustomed to having a short meeting in this room every few days or so.

The door behind her opened, and Jim Falon strode into his office. He was holding an open file in his hand, reading it as he walked across the desk. Lifting his eyes, he gave April a nod and settled into his chair.

"How're you doin, Rhodes?" he inquired, his eyes still on the file.

"Fine, thanks." said April. "What's that you're reading?"

Falon looked up from the file, taking a moment to register the question. "This?" He raised the file he was holding. "Just a quick report about some minor upgrades needed for the ADF."

"Upgrades?" April raised her eyebrows. "So soon? This project had just been finished a few months back."

Falon flipped a page in the file as he continued to go through it. "Well, we're still gonna use every avenue we have for improvement. If a time ever comes where we need to use this new force, we need the best we can get."

The ADF, or Automated Defence Force, was a first of its kind initiative that the CIA had launched some years back. It aimed to develop an army of fully automated robot warriors that could be trusted with real-life operations in the field.

The agency aimed to maintain this army for the purpose of strengthening homeland security. In case a time ever came when they needed to protect their soil from forces foreign or domestic. The landmark project had been finished a few months back. A fully geared robotic army of more than twenty thousand units was now at their disposal.

The authority to operate the army and to use it when needed rested wholesomely on the director of the CIA. Commands were to be given through the special CIA-sanctioned phone Jim Falon carried.

"We're a different organisation now." Falon said without looking up. "A lot of changes have happened, and we're no longer just sitting on the sidelines. But we know what's going on. The war's ended but the red-line in Europe is tenser than ever. In these dangerous times, America's intelligence service needs all the help it can get."

Falon placed the file on his desk and reclined against his chair.

"I've got an assignment very important for you."

April sat with her hands on the desk, waiting.

"Just a few hours ago, something unexpected happened." Falon reached for one of the files among the stack before him. "A most-wanted criminal, one wanted by countless security agencies around the world and listed in Interpol's blacklist, just came strolling by us."

Pulling one of the files out, Falon placed it before April.

April drew her chair closer and reached for the file. She flicked it open, and saw the details of the criminal listed on the first page. A passport-style photo of him rested on the top right of the page.

"We teamed up with law enforcement to get hold of him, but he slipped right through our fingers." detailed Falon. "We need you to track him down and find him."

April spent a moment looking through the file.

Name: Ron Andris

Age: 20 – 21.

Criminal allegiance: Unknown

"There are no criminal connections pinned to him." April said, looking at Falon.

"This is all the intelligence we've got on him right now." Falon informed her.

April went through the file for a few more seconds. The target had criminal acts attributed to him, but with undefined intentions. His motives were still shrouded in secrecy.

April closed the file and looked up at her boss.

"Any leads as to where he is now?" she asked.

"Not much." responded Falon. "But we can be sure that he hasn't gotten far from where we initially found him."

"No problem." April said, nodding. "I'll take over this from here."

Falon grinned. "Good to hear that, Rhodes. Appreciate having someone I can trust important things with."

April took the file and walked out of the room, readying herself for the new task at hand.

## ~

The dark chamber was filled with silence. Placed against the walls were small bowls with a black ash-like material. Wisps of thick green fumes rose into the air from the bowls. The vapour seeped into the air, flowing upwards and spreading over the place.

Men stood by the walls of the large chamber, still and focussed. They were all wearing long brown cloaks, with hoods over their head. Their appearance and demeanour left an air of eeriness to permeate the place.

Moments passed in silence, and nothing moved inside the chamber. Threads of green drifted over the air pleasantly, leaving a rich incense within the place.

The door to the chamber slowly opened, and a tall, thin figure moved in. He was adorned in a black cloak and even through the dim lighting, the tint of gray on his skin was visible.

Eyra moved his gaze about the place. The men standing by the chamber were as just as still as ever, an extension of the wall behind them.

"I need this chamber left alone." said Eyra softly. "You may leave."

"Long live the brotherhood." the men said as one, their voices echoing within the large chamber.

And they walked out of the chamber slowly.

"Long live the brotherhood." Eyra repeated softly as they left.

He walked down the large chamber calmly. The thin green vapour surrounded him, and he slowly breathed in, enjoying the aroma that he felt in his lungs.

The brotherhood of Irus.

Eyra quietly walked across the chamber, feeling the sound of his own footsteps wear the silence. This organisation, this brotherhood, was beyond anything the real world had seen.

None knew of their existence. And yet, they were quietly shaping the world. Changing it.

Eyra stopped at the other end of the large chamber. A sole window was there on the wall. And through it, he could see a vast desert sprawl out beyond them. Mountains of sand spread over the land, dense and feral. Streaks of wind passed over the land, causing the sands to shift and flow.

Eyra stood there for a long moment, looking outside.

The brotherhood that he led had seen countless great men over the years. He personally remembered every single one of them.

But right now, he was thinking about one particular member that he had had long back... A young man called Ron Andris.

Eyra stood there, quietly watching the sands outside. While his mind continued to roam in memory.

Three years ago

A large crowd was gathered on both sides of the hall. All of them were wearing dark cloaks, their eyes fixed on the scene at the centre.

Two young men stood facing each other. A brown-haired, thin teenager on the right, and a tall, muscular guy by the left.

Ron kept his gaze anchored on his well-toned opponent across the hall. Chavis wore trousers and a black vest, his eyes focussed in front. Both of them were standing with edgy postures, ready to begin anytime now.

On both sides of the hall, a large crowd of apprentices was watching eagerly. Standing at the front of the hall, his form hardly noticeable, was Eyra. He had his hands behind his back, watching the two opponents glare at each other.

Ron's eyes moved over Eyra for a second. His master gave a slight nod.

Ron took in a deep breath, curling his fists.

Eyra's voice sounded from across the hall. "Begin the duel... now."

Together, Ron and Chavis reached for the swords slung behind them. They drew their blades as one, and spent a few seconds twirling it over the air. Chavis's sword was slimmer at the hilt and curved at the top, while Ron's was long and straight. Like all of the sabers that the brotherhood's men used, the blades were imbued with an electric current that made it easier to cut through objects.

Without waiting for his opponent to make the first move, Ron went dashing towards Chavis, who put himself on guard.

A thin, sharp sound bit the air as the two swords collided.

Chavis disentangled his blade, and swiped towards Ron from the side.

Ron blocked it, and sent a jab to Chavis' chest. The sound of blades clashing came once more.

Standing on either side, the crowd watched closely. Some of them had their eyes wide.

Chavis's blade slashed across the air, coming dead close to Ron's neck. He had jumped aside just in time...

The two of them slid back and forth in the hall. Their swords flashed as they duelled. Spinning and flying in fury.

Ron's motion was swift and speedy, while Chavis's moves had force.

Chavis stepped forward and thrust his sword forth. Ron took a step back, blocking the shot with ease. He sent a series of swift jabs and cuts at his enemy. His quick, effortless motion was too much for Chavis, who faltered.

Taking the split second advantage, Ron leapt forward, his sword in motion...

Chavis froze, looking to his shoulder. Ron's sword was placed there, hovering right beside his neck.

The crowd cheered, applauding loudly.

The two opponents sheathed their blades and made a mild bow towards each other.

Chavis winked at Ron. "Good one."

Ron nodded back as others around the room walked upto him and patted him.

Ron's eyes moved to the end of the hall where Eyra stood watching.

His master was smiling. As Ron looked at him, he gave a mild nod.

_____________

Some time later, Eyra and Ron were in the empty hall. The crowd had left, and only the two of them remained.

"Good duel, my young apprentice." said Eyra, looking sideways at Ron while the two of them walked down the hall.

"Thank you, master." responded Ron. "It wasn't hard."

"There are few that I can imagine getting the better of you." said Eyra. "You are one of our strongest members."

"I owe it all to your training, Eyra." Ron glanced at the Eye of Horus, etched across his wrist. It was the mark of the brotherhood. Forged on his hand at the age of ten. All of their members carried it.

Silence fell between them, as they strolled across the large hall.

"I remember that day, long back, when I had found you." he said. "You had been in a time of great despair. Joining the brotherhood allowed you to transform the suffering of your past into a new purpose for the future."

Ron flashed back to that day, more than eight years ago. Eyra had saved him from the murderers, and breathed life into his hopeless existence. He had offered him a chance to be a part of something greater.

A secret brotherhood that worked to bring order to the world.

Their goal was to lead humanity to peace and justice.

They wanted to take down this system, which was responsible for so much of carnage and suffering.

But the brotherhood knew that the process of liberating humanity was not going to be soft or easy.

Out of chaos comes order. Ron recalled the first thing that Eyra had taught him.

To guide the world to peace, they had to use force. They couldn't defeat this system without harming it...

They lived in an age where the world and all of its countries were held hostage. Governments were controlled by corporations and corrupt elements. Nations were plundered and robbed. Earth's resources depleted... Scores of innocent lives destroyed in violence and war.

All because the world had lost its true leadership. Its true path.

The brotherhood was here to set that right. To restore true leadership to this world.

Out of chaos comes Order.

The brotherhood had been here for half a century now, guided by this ancient and powerful master. Eyra had brought them this mystical path towards greatness and power from a land far away. And he had used it to nourish this group, allow them all to share in the elevation of their bodies and minds into higher planes...

They were lethal. Fast. Sharp.

Although they were completely hidden in the shadows, they had a secret presence that extended globally and penetrated the world. Their most trained spies roamed from East to West, keeping an eye out at all times.

Their purpose was in weakening the established system. Laying the cracks in this rigged power structure so that their influence could seep in.

And they accomplished this through many means. Eliminating figures of interest. Sabotaging corporations. Spreading fear through terror attacks.

They asserted control through such acts of violence, directing nations in the path that they needed.

The destruction that they had perpetrated was minimal in comparison to that which would ensue if they didn't. Ron kept that at heart when he conducted all of his missions.

"I've always wanted to ask you this one question, my young apprentice," Eyra turned to Ron, letting his deep black eyes caress his favourite student. He waited for a few moments as silence trailed between them. "Do you have any regrets?"

Ron stared back into those black eyes without blinking.

"No." he replied firmly. "Not one single regret."

A grin crossed Eyra's lips. He held Ron's shoulders with both hands, a serene satisfaction glowing in his eyes.

"You've left me greatly impressed." he told Ron. "And you've grown tremendously within a span of very short years. All this time, all of the missions that you've gone on have been rather trivial. Of very low significance." His gaze drifted off Ron for a small second. "But now, there is a single mission of supreme importance awaiting you. It carries immense gravity and will help us in our goal of rising above the power structures." His eyes moved back to his student. "You are being trained for this mission, as you have been since we taught you how to fight. And in good time, you will be sent out for it."

Ron gave a mild bow to his master. "When the time comes for it... I promise you, I won't fail you."

Eyra patted Ron by the shoulder. "I know you won't."

He turned and continued down the dark corridor, with Ron strolling along beside him.

## ~

The present

April stood before the café, her mind processing everything she had.

This was the place where their suspect had been found. She stood there, gazing through the glass wall of the café. There was a regular evening crowd inside.

Picking up her phone, she entered a number and held the phone to her ear, waiting.

The ringtone played for a couple of seconds, before a female voice answered.

"Linda, this is April." she said.

"April, what's up?"

"I need you to send me all of Washington's public camera feeds between six and nine today morning. I have a suspect that I have to find."

April knew that Linda, being an experienced analyst in the CIA, would help her gain some clarity in this scene.

"Okay, I'll have that done right away."

A few minutes later, April was sitting by a pavement nearby, holding her phone before her. She had received a vast array of videos captured by the city's public cameras today morning. She accelerated her process by using CIA software in her phone, which targeted specific details in the videos to streamline the search.

It took her about half an hour before she found what she needed.

Pocketing her phone, she flagged a cab on the street before her and entered it.

_____________

Marianne Silva was taking a moment to relax and rejuvenate herself.

She reclined on her large chair, taking a deep breath. This large air-conditioned room she was in represented one of the most powerful offices in the entire world right now. And also one of the most critically needed.

The mediator.

That was what they called her. She, along with her large team, worked in this huge tower in an inner district of New York.

The office of the mediator had been created and appointed by the UN just about a year ago. Marianne, who was previously in the UN's diplomacy department, had been offered the position. But she had initially been reluctant. This was definite no ordinary job. It came with a burden more immense than any other.

But Marianne had taken it, understanding the need of the hour.

She glanced at today's newspaper, placed beside her laptop.

At the front page was something about Russian activity at the red-line. Marianne couldn't help but feel annoyed at how the mainstream media was doing little to help during serious and sensitive circumstances.

But what could we expect, when the media thrives on anarchy and death? she thought.

She reclined on her chair, her gaze drifting out of the window. From the twenty second storey, they had a breathtaking view of the city below them.

The red-line...

Marianne's eyes strayed past the row of tall, glassy buildings below them. The streets way down appeared as small lines condensed within a maze of massive structures.

A year ago, war had broken between the US and Russia, with European nations siding with either of the two powers.

The world had re-lived one of its old nightmares. A world war.

The conflict raged on for many months, invoking devastation not seen for decades.

With hundreds of thousands dead and both the sides edging closer and closer to a nuclear war, the UN swung into action.

A ceasefire had been implemented which divided Eastern and Western Europe. It was called the red-line. And today, it was the most tense and most dangerous stretch of border in the world.

Marianne sighed as she sat there, reliving the dark memories of not long ago.

The war was the result of increasing tensions between US and Russia. This was further accelerated by a sense of disillusionment among many NATO countries in Europe.

The people of many countries, including Greece, Belarus, Poland, and Hungary began to question their country's alliance with the US. They viewed the US as an imperialist power that exploited its relations with countries to promote corporate interests. At the cost of the host countries and their people.

This anti-US sentiment in the world was further bolstered by actions taken by the US government over the past two decades. War campaigns to thwart opposing influence (many of which had the forced participation of NATO countries), and a system of meddling with the politics of world governments to protect US interests.

All of this together culminated a strong anti-American sentiment that led to many countries moving away from America.

Poland, Ukraine, Estonia, and similar countries with a large Russian speaking populace saw a shift in their foreign policy that favoured Russia.

Anti-EU ultra-nationalist parties began to awaken and dominate governments in Europe. A strong anti-US block was also coming to force around the world with China, North Korea, Iran and other countries isolated by the US aligning themselves with Russia.

The world was sinking back to a climate of cold war, with a great divide between the East and the West.

The tensions climbed over many years, with neither side attempting to re-build and reconciliate...

And finally, one fine day, the fuse had been lit...

The president of the United States, Harry Roosevelt, had been assassinated. The man responsible for it, a blonde-haired Russian assassin, had never been found and his only photo taken survived upto this day.

An ultra-nationalist, the Russian had left a message at the crime scene proclaiming his hatred of the US and his desire to see NATO disintegrated.

Marianne bit her lip. She remembered how she and the rest of the UN had scoured all of the data and resources they had, to help find the culprit. They wanted to prevent what they saw coming...

Walking over to her desk, she sifted through the papers and removed a photo buried within it. The photo of the man, captured as he walked down the road. It was taken from a remote public camera, and little was visible. The culprit was walking the other direction, wearing a long black coat. A black bag was slung around him and his face was obscured from view. His silky blonde hair was tied in a ponytail, catching a film of blue light from a nearby streetlamp.

They called him the man in black. For the way he appeared... and also for what he had done to the world.

Taking a deep breath, Marianne tucked the photo back into the stack of papers.

They had never found him. He seemed to have escaped without a trace left behind.

The manner in which the crime was conducted, and the swiftness of the culprit's exit, couldn't have taken place alone.

All clues pointed to a Russian government involvement in the attack.

Within a few hours, a military standoff erupted between the US and Russia. As the United States galvanised the support of the remaining NATO powers, Russia drew support from countries in Eastern Europe that had broken away from the US, as well as China, North Korea, Iran and Syria.

The world at war.

Marianne sighed, settling back into her chair.

When the ceasefire was declared and the war was over, they had averted a much larger catastrophe. A nuclear war.

With tensions still extremely high, the UN saw that there needed to be a medium of diplomacy between the US and Russia, to help restore good relations. To prevent this from happening again.

And that was when she found herself accepting this newly created role as the mediator.

Her job was to work between the US and Russia to promote better relations, and to contain tensions through diplomacy. It was no easy job, but Marianne knew that without her, things could easily go down the rough path once more.

Marianne saw a faint reflection of her stare back at her from the glass window. A thin woman with long grey hair and freckles in her face.

At age 60, Marianne had witnessed a lot in her time. And after everything that she had seen, all of the wars and conflicts, she couldn't help but wonder if mankind was ever truly destined for peace.

Taking a deep breath, she pulled herself straight and brought her attention back to work.

## ~

Keeping her steps soft, April slowly walked up the stairs. She had her handgun out in her hand.

Reaching the third floor in the abandoned apartment, she paused before the door in front.

After going through the video feeds and connecting the dots, she found a clear trail. And it had led her right here. She was sure she had come to the right place.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath to calm her nerves.

Then, she kicked the door open and stormed inside, her gun aimed in front.

She stopped at the hall, her eyes flying about the place. And she lowered her weapon slowly.

There was nobody there.

Not letting her guard down, she slowly moved from room to room, searching the entire place. The apartment was old and worn out, with cracks on the walls and dust gathered on the floor.

Having searched the entire place carefully, April walked back hall, her gun lowered.

There's nobody here.

She stood there for a long moment, still looking into the two rooms in front. She was now beginning to wonder if she had made a mistake somehow.

Taking a deep breath, she turned around.

Standing between her and the flat's door was the man she had come looking for. He seemed to have just entered.

Before April could make another move, he whacked her across her face and she stumbled to the ground, unconscious.

Ron stood there, looking down at the woman who had sneaked in here. She was clearly from the CIA. He felt sorry for having to hit her.

Bending down, he heaved her body up and walked into one of the rooms. Placing her on the sofa gently, he walked out and closed the door.

## ~

By the time Ron had returned to the room sometime later, he found the girl stirring slightly.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she slowly looked around.

She froze as she saw him standing there.

"You..." Instantly, her hand flew into her pocket. Her eyes widened as she realised there was nothing there.

Ron calmly held up her handgun.

She pulled herself up on the sofa, a mixture of shock and fear in her expression. Her eyes were on Ron the whole time.

"Let me go." It was a demand more than a request.

Leaning by the wall, Ron chuckled.

"I will." he said, to her surprise.

He stopped leaning and took a step closer to her. His voice was more serious. "But first, I want you to listen to something that I have to tell you."

The girl watched him closely, seeming to calculate what was going on.

"You would pay heed to this if you cared for your country." Ron told her. "And for the world."

She considered him for a moment, her eyebrows raised.

"Why would I trust anything you say?" she asked.

"You don't have to." Ron tossed the handgun back to her. She caught it with both hands, a glimmer of shock on her face.

"You're more than welcome to do what you came here for." said Ron. "But take a moment to think about the larger picture and ask yourself if that's what you're really toiling for."

The girl sat there, staring at the gun in her hand. Many seconds later, she inhaled and looked up at him.

"I'm giving you one shot." she said. "What's this national security threat you're talking about?"

"It's a secret organisation." explained Ron. "They call themselves the brotherhood of Irus."

The girl waited for a second. "And what do they want?"

"Control." said Ron. "And they've got the means to get it. Right now, they are the greatest threat that that we're faced with."

April gave what she heard a second.

"I work for one of the most powerful intelligence agencies in the world." she said slowly. "Very less that we don't actually know of. If there really is an organisation like this that poses such a huge threat, why haven't we even heard of it?"

"They know how to remain hidden." Ron said. "They're ahead of you. They're ahead of everyone." He shook his head. "This is nothing like you've seen before."

April stared at him with an expressionless gaze. "Where did you get all of this, then?"

Ron stopped. He allowed silence to fall between them for a moment.

"I was a member of this brotherhood." He raised his hand, showing her the back of his wrist, where a strange eye-shaped tattoo was branded. "Technically, I still am a member of this brotherhood."

April blinked, completely unprepared for that. What she had read in his file touched her memory again. Criminal allegiance: Unknown.

He had done some pretty extreme things, and yet the CIA had no way of tracing him to a larger criminal network. No way of knowing who he worked for, or why he committed those crimes. A first for the CIA.

Whatever he was saying quietly began to make sense to April.

"I'm wanted in two dozen countries," Ron told her. "blacklisted by Interpol, the CIA and a dozen more agencies. And despite all that, I remained completely out of reach all this while. I walked right across your backyard and got away with it." He leaned forward. "Imagine what a small army of people like me, people with these abilities, could do."

April looked away for some time, attempting to come to terms with this new revelation.

"I'm a one man army going up against a far bigger enemy." said Ron. "No-one else has taken this seriously. I'm all alone in this fight. You're from a powerful intelligence organisation and I could really use your help. If you want to protect your country, then trust me."

April sat there quietly for a few seconds.

All her life, she had just wanted to be a part of the solution. But all along, she had been a part of the problem. In these past two years, she had wanted nothing more than to find a place where she was doing the right thing.

Taking a deep breath, April looked at Ron. "I'm going by my gut this time... I'll help you."

Ron threw a glance down the flat. "Before we do anything, let's get out of here. I don't think we'd be safe here any longer."

_____________

The two of them were now walking down the road outside. Ron had his sword slung behind him, and his gun hanging by his side.

"There's cameras all over the place." April said. "You've gotta be careful when moving in the open."

The neighbourhood was mostly empty, but they saw occasional passers-by. A vehicle passed by the street every few minutes or so.

"You used to work for this group, and you left them?" April asked, looking at Ron.

For a micro second, Ron flashed back to that critical mission Eyra had been training him for.

As he nodded, she added, "And you're now the only one working against them?"

Another nod.

The two of them made their way down the pavement. A row of houses was present by the side. Most of them were empty, but a few of them were still occupied. They occasionally saw people sitting by the lawn or walking out of their houses.

_____________

In front of the small security room was a massive screen that was built into the wall. A large grid of screens, all of them showing different regions, was displayed on the large monitor.

All of the screens brought video feeds from public cameras across Washington DC.

The five security officers who had been in the room were all sitting tied to their chairs. They were gagged, and their hands handcuffed across the back. Their terrified eyes were fixed on the middle of the room, where Raze was standing. His posture was calm, and his hands were behind him. His scarred face was devoid of expression as he stood watching the group of screens. He was surveying them carefully, searching...

A few moments later, his eyes narrowed.

Walking forward to the control desk, he operated a few buttons.

In front, a single screen from the entire grid magnified and filled the whole space.

The screen showcased a street in a quiet neighbourhood. And walking down the pavement came Ron with another unknown female.

The region where the video was coming from was displayed at the bottom of the screen.

It was in a neighbourhood not very far away from here.

A smile curving across his lips, Raze turned and made his way out of the security room.

## ~

April and Ron had been walking for over ten minutes now.

Ron found the quiet in this region fulfilling. His hands behind his back, he walked along the pavement in a slow stride. Beside him, April let her gaze move about the place, following inhabitants of the neighbourhood that they occasionally saw.

It was late evening now. The skies above the horizon were flared in a deep pink colour. Streaks of red coloured the clouds. The sun was a deep red orb frozen at the base of the sky.

"We need to stay off the government's radar." said Ron.

April scowled, thinking. "Dodging government agencies shouldn't be too hard for now."

She drifted into thought for a moment, before bringing her gaze to him. "It really is surprising that this entity operates without anyone in the intelligence community aware of it. I've got zero intel about it."

"Don't worry, I can make up for whatever you lack in this area." Ron informed her.

She waited for a moment, and then asked, "You have a plan, do you?"

"I have something." Ron said. "But it's not gonna be easy."

They decided to sit down by a bench on the pavement for a while.

"Tell me about this group." April asked Ron.

Ron gave the question a moment's thought.

"I joined them when I was about eleven. I grew up with them. Over the years, I learned everything possible about espionage, martial arts, fighting..."

He looked across the street. The row of houses on the other side looked old and worn out. Some of them had cars by the lawn, all cloaked in a thick layer of dust. The image of a small silver suitcase briefly hung in Ron's mind.

"They're good at what they do, which is to bring chaos to the system." he continued, sitting with his arms folded. "A small portion of the scattered instances of violence around the world today comes from them."

April had her head turned, gazing down the road. A car had just parked there a minute ago, and now the driver was getting out. The man was lean, with a long scar across his face. There was a sharp quality to his features that made him look more intimidating.

Turning back ahead, April asked, "So where do we begin?"

"We need to get to France." answered Ron.

She looked at him. "France? For what?"

Ron placed a hand behind his head, resting it on the back of the chair. "I'll tell you soon enough. But that's where we need to go first."

Ron glanced down the street at the man they had seen there. He was still standing by his car. His eyes were on them... Ron felt a touch of discord as he wondered what the guy was staring at them for.

He looked back ahead, bringing his attention back. "Well, whatever the case, we need–"

The loud sound of gunshots ripped through the air.

Acting out of reflex, Ron lunged to the side and shoved April off her seat. The back of the seat burst in shrapnel as a bullet tore through it.

The man across the street was now holding a gun, and aiming directly at them.

Ron dived to the ground himself, his mind racing. He's one of them...

The two of them rolled behind the seat, keeping their heads low. The man's weapon fired a string of shots. The pavement in front of the seat took a few bullets, and pieces of concrete flew into the air.

Keeping themselves hidden behind the seat, the two of them reached for their weapons. April pulled out her handgun, while Ron held his assault rifle in both hands.

Turning over, Ron opened fire at the man. A series of loud bangs burst through the air, as his rifle sprayed bullets towards the assailant and his car.

The scar-faced man ducked beneath his car, which took Ron's bullets. Bits of metal exploded from the car's metallic body.

A few bullets slammed into the windscreen in front, which shattered.

"Let's go, come on!" Ron yelled, and together, the two of them burst down the road, keeping their heads ducked.

As they darted down the road, Ron sent a glance back. The man had gotten into his car, and the engine roared to life.

The two of them continued to streak down the road without bothering to take cover.

Behind, they could hear the sound of a vehicle approaching. Ron turned to see the man speeding down the road towards them. He leaned out of the window as he drove, his gun in his hand.

Bullets blasted through the air. Ron and April dived to the side as they continued to run. The street and the pavement in front of them were struck, spraying bits of concrete into the air.

Without stopping, the two of them turned and opened fire.

The man's car swerved to the right as he tried to avoid the gunfire. One of the bullets tore through his side window and hit the seat next to him.

As the man attempted to steer his car back to control, Ron and April quickly turned into a lane by the right.

They went bounding down the lane, their chests heaving rapidly... And the sound of the car's engine hovered towards the lane.

This is not going to end easily. Ron thought to himself. We're not gonna outrun him.

He knew that the man was here for him, Ron. Halting in his tracks, he looked at April.

"What happened?" she panted, stopping in front of him.

Taking a moment to replenish his breath, Ron told April, "Get to the side of the street, now."

He gestured to the pavement by the right, and the abandoned buildings lined behind it.

As April stood there, confused, he urged, "Go, now!"

As she left the street, Ron turned and stood facing the other side. And the man's car came surfing into the lane in high speed from the street outside.

Ron stood in the middle of the road as the car hurtled down furiously. He could see the scarred face of the driver, watching him with a steely look in his eye.

On the pavement by the right, April watched with her eyes widening.

Ron stood as he was in the middle of the lane, his fists curled, while the attacker raced towards him.

The man's car slowed down rapidly. Its tyres screeching, the vehicle slowed to a complete stop... right before Ron.

Standing in front of the vehicle, Ron looked the man in the eye.

The attacker slowly pushed the door open and climbed out. His gaze was steadily fixed on Ron.

"Let's settle this with honour, shall we?" said Ron, reaching for the sword slung behind him.

The man with the scarred face steadily watched him. And he reached for his own blade.

The two of them drew their electric blades as one. The steely sound of swords leaving their sheaths filled the air.

The two of them stood facing each other. Silence had blanketed the area around them.

And the scarred man pounced forward. Ron drew a step back, blocking the guy's attack. And he struck back.

The attacker's reflexes and motion were razor sharp. He caught Ron's blade, before swinging himself to the side and slashing...

The sound of their blades clashing rang in the air again and again as the two members of the brotherhood danced in a deadly duel.

Ron felt the flow of air in his lungs quicken as he moved at peak speed. Evading death by the split second.

He jabbed towards his enemy's chest, but his opponent flicked it aside with his own sword.

The man sent a quick strike towards Ron. Mustering his speed, Ron jumped back to evade the sword.

In the split second that the attacker then took to steady himself, Ron leapt forward and slammed into the man with his shoulder.

The attacker flew back, crashing through the shattered windscreen of his own car. Ron sprinted to the car's open door by the right.

The man was lying across the front seats, groaning.

Without pausing, Ron grabbed the seatbelts of both seats and tied them firmly around the assailant, who was drifting in and out of consciousness.

He then looked across the street to April and nodded.

The two of them together ran down the place, crossing many streets. They arrived at a bus stop, where a bus had just paused to drop off a few people. Flagging the massive vehicle, they charged into it right as the doors slid shut, and it slowly rolled off.

_____________

The coastal guard was standing by the edge of the boat, sailing down the calm waters slowly. He was wearing a blue uniform, with a long coat around him.

The small motor boat that he was on had a box of tools and a life-jacket for an emergency.

Rowing his way down the waters, the man approached the large yacht that was seen ahead. It was a medium sized vessel that seemed relatively old. Three men were standing by the railings, looking at the coastal boat that approached.

"Sir," The coastal guard called, waving his hand towards the men.

A minute later, the coastal guard had climbed to the deck of the yacht, standing before the men.

"You cannot be here." the coastal guard had a heavy accent as he spoke to them. "You have crossed into our coastal territory. You must turn back now."

"Oh, we're sorry." said one of them, a blonde-man. "We weren't aware at all."

"That's fine." the coastal guard said. "Now, turn back."

"We will, right away." the blonde man said. He took a step forward, smashing his elbow onto the coastal guard's face. The guard's body toppled over the boat's railings and plunged down.

With a loud crash, it landed back on the small boat that the man had come on. The boat remained as it was, with the guard's unconscious body on it.

The three men spent a few moments looking down at the coastal boat with the unconscious body on it.

The blonde guy, whose name was River, looked at the other two and smiled.

He rubbed the base of his wrist, where the Eye of Horus was branded.

"Long live the brotherhood." he whispered.

A minute later, the ship continued moving. River and the other two stood outside, watching the vast sea that spread out in front of them.

They were here on a task for the brotherhood. A very important task.

River kept his gaze on the sea as the ship moved forward swiftly.

## ~

After escaping from the attacker, Ron and April made their way to an inter-city train station, from where they took a train to Dallas. They had just survived a deadly encounter with an agent of the brotherhood, and they knew that other forces were also hunting them down.

They needed to get out of Washington before they made their next move.

Ron looked out the window by his right, watching the scenery rush past him outside. They had boarded the train some time back. They would arrive in Kansas city in a few hours, and from there, they would plan their next move.

As he sat there in the moving train, watching the scene outside, Ron felt flashes of the past in his mind.

Guilt racked his insides, as he travelled back...

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and leaned back against his seat. For many months now, he had been unable to let go of this pain. It had consumed him...

"So that man... he was one of the brotherhood?" asked April, who was sitting opposite to him.

Ron shifted his gaze to April. "Now you know what I'm talking about."

April sank into thought for a few moments.

"How are we going to get to France?" She said.

"What do you mean?"

"You're a most wanted criminal." April said. "There's no way you'd be able to make it through an airport in this country or anywhere else."

"Don't worry." Ron told her. "I've got it all figured out."

"What do you have in mind?" April asked, raising an eyebrow.

"We're not taking a direct route to France. We've gotta take a longer route, and first go somewhere where we can fix this problem."

"And where's that?" inquired April.

"Mexico." said Ron. "I know a friend there who can produce fake travel IDs and passports. Once that's done, I'll be able to travel freely again."

They sat there in silence, looking out the window as the train sped forward, passing town after town.

"You all right?" April asked, after surveying him for some time.

Ron let silence hang for a moment, before looking at her. "Not really."

April pushed a file of scarlet hair off her face. Her blue eyes remained on Ron for a few moments, as though trying to read him. She appeared to screen out some of the emotions he was feeling.

"After reading your entire profile, I can tell you aren't nearly the worst I've seen among criminals. Trust me." she said. "Over the last two years, I've personally encountered remorseless souls who've done far more damage to the world."

Ron sat back against his seat, inhaling once.

Silence was nestled between them amidst the barrelling of the train. April was looking out the window, watching the rich scenery float past them through the window.

A deep calm now filled the entire hall. Most of the passengers were engrossed in their books or sleeping. The train continued to hurtle forward, leaving a mild shudder to linger within all through.

Looking at April, Ron said, "Give me your phone."

Curiosity flickered on her face. Pulling her slim phone from her pocket, she unlocked the device and handed it to him.

Ron spent a few moments looking through the files in the devices. He sifted through the archives of the CIA stored within it.

After some time, he halted and handed the phone to April.

April took the device. On the screen was a photo from their criminal archives.

A man in a sweeping black attire, his long blonde hair falling behind him in a ponytail. It was the man in black. The Russian ultra-nationalist who had plunged the world into war.

"I heard that the FBI had a massive team of analysts to investigate this assassination, probably one of the largest such analysis teams in history." Ron said. "Even though the government was already sure about what happened within a few hours, the investigation team took close to a week to collect data about the crime and establish their conclusive evaluation. But there were a small number of analysts who brought in differing theories, and also guessed that much of what they saw that day was deceptive." He took a deep breath. "They believed that the whole crime was far from what it seemed from the surface. That it had more to it than could be seen by the plain eye. And they also suggested that the blonde hair that they saw in the photo was actually not real hair. That it was a wig. What's ironic, is that these analysts were completely right."

April's gaze lingered on the phone for a long moment, before slowly moving to Ron. "How did you know?"

The rumbling of the train caught in the air as Ron gazed out the window. He took a deep breath.

"Because I was the guy wearing that wig." he said, looking at April. "The man you see in the photo, the infamous man in black, sits before you right now."

## ~

One year ago

The dark room was devoid of any light. On all four corners, shadows cloaked the place.

A sense of stillness and silence pervaded the air for many long moments.

The sound of a door opening came. Ron stepped into the room.

"Hello?" he said.

"Yes, Ron." came a voice from the other side of the darkness.

A pair of gentle footsteps came. And Eyra slowly walked out from the other corner of the room.

Arriving before where Ron stood, he watched him quietly for a moment.

"You have trained long and hard." He held Ron by the shoulders. "And I have watched you grow. Today, you have matured into a great warrior, my child. In my days helming this brotherhood, I have seen few like you."

His smile was visible through the darkness.

Ron gave him a gentle bow. "It has been an honour to serve this cause."

"More than your skills and prowess," Eyra told him. "it is your loyalty... and your dedication to this cause that I admire the most."

Ron strolled along with his mentor in the barren room. Echoes from the pain of his past drifted through his mind. A shattered childhood. Consumed by a human war.

"I know better than most others how vital our cause is, master." said Ron. "This is my purpose. And I shall always take pride in shaping our path towards peace."

Eyra stood there in silence, his mystical black eyes on Ron.

"It is time for the task that we have been training you for."

"I'm ready." said Ron.

Eyra turned and faced him. "Just remember that this is not the most important task given to you, but to anyone ever in this brotherhood."

Ron felt a sense of honour and pride at what he was hearing. He felt grateful to his master, for giving him the chance to facilitate something of such great importance.

A steely sense of focus emerged within him.

He looked at Eyra. "Whatever it is, I'll accomplish it with no room for error."

_____________

Ron pushed the car door open and emerged into the open. He was now in Rome.

He turned back, looking at the four men in the car. They were members of the brotherhood, who had come here to drop him off.

One of them stretched his hand out towards Ron, holding an envelope.

Ron took the envelope, and gently tucked it into the black coat that he was wearing. Another of the men in the car passed him a large black bag.

Taking it, Ron nodded at the men. They all nodded back.

"Long live the brotherhood."

Ron turned and made his way into the night time streets of Rome. He kept his strides measured and soft, his mind attuned completely to what was at hand. The wig of blonde hair he wore flapped gently against his back. A way to cover his identity from security recordings.

For reasons of high security, the mission was not known to Ron beforehand this time. The instructions for the task at hand were written in that sealed envelope. Ron would have to reach a safe location before he opened the envelope and carried out whatever was instructed within it.

The small road he was now in had cafes and eateries on both sides. There were glowing lanterns hanging by both sides of the street, and large crowds hung over the pavements, talking cheerily. There was a festive atmosphere over the place.

As Ron reached the end of the street, he paused by an outdoor café and took a seat. A few seconds later, a waitress was standing before him with a welcoming expression

"Salve, signore!" she said happily. "Cosa vuoi da bere?"

"I'll have a medium latte cappuccino, please."

The lady returned a minute later with a steaming cup of coffee.

"Godetevi la vostra bevanda!"

"Thank you." Ron said, pressing the money into her hand.

Sitting there with the cup of coffee before him, Ron reached into his coat and pulled out the envelope.

As he broke the seal, he found two pieces of paper tucked inside. He removed the first paper and placed it on the desk before him. His eyes moved across the paper slowly, reading the instructions in it.

Pressing the paper back into the envelope, Ron returned it to his coat pocket, and left.

He was to go to a particular building somewhere nearby here, to a rooftop...

He strode down the streets briskly, blending into the crowd on the pavement.

Within a few minutes, he had reached the building. It was a large condominium, rising upto more than twenty storeys.

Ron took the lift to the roof of the massive tower. He exited the lift into a large, empty clearing that was calm and quiet. Nobody there.

He walked to the end of the roof and stood there for a while. Looking down at the vast city that spread out below him. The tightly knit spread of buildings could be viewed from here. They were all delicately constructed, an image of harmony and grace.

Ron inhaled deeply, enjoying the marvel of the image below him.

He then placed his bag down, readying himself.

He had read the envelope, and he knew what his task was.

Unzipping the black bag, he drew out a long sniper rifle and placed it against the wall. From where he stood, he could see a magnificent building across a few streets. It rose higher than this, with a majestic and charming design.

Ron's task was to conduct an assassination of one of the people he saw in there. The identity of the person was not given, but he had to shoot a man from a particular window on the eight floor.

A small curiosity rose within Ron's mind, as to who his target was. He instantly blocked out the thought. Over his long time in the brotherhood, he had been trained to observe a level of unquestioning, ruthless focus. Whatever the task was, he had to execute it. Doubts and confusion caused distraction. Members of the brotherhood were not the type to tolerate distraction...

Lowering himself to his knees, Ron positioned himself behind the rifle.

A realisation passed his mind, drawing his attention.

There's supposed to be a NATO summit taking place here in this city today. They were well in track of everything going on in the world, as it was essential to what they did. The heads of the NATO alliance were supposed to be in this city today, having a discourse on the backdrop of heightened tensions between Russia and the West.

Ron looked across the building. A few moments passed quietly, as his mind processed something...

The building that he saw, across a few streets... that was the building where the NATO summit was taking place.

Ron slowly straightened up, feeling a strange question emerge within him.

Who am I supposed to assassinate?

For the first time in many years, he wondered if there was something wrong with this mission. If the instructions in the envelope had an error in them.

Or was he really supposed to kill a major Western world leader...?

The political ramifications that could bring...

His unquestioning focus now fading, Ron stood there in the rooftop. His mind at work.

There was a troubled feeling that he had right now...

He took a few deep breaths, calming himself before he could arrive at a clear judgement.

As he stood there, feeling the calm breeze of the night's wind, Eyra's words played in his mind. Just remember that this is not the most important task given to you, but to anyone ever in this brotherhood.

He took a final deep breath and made up his mind.

"Out of chaos comes order." he said softly.

Positioning himself before the rifle, he aimed directly at the window that was specified... He could see the outline of a man behind the window.

Ron squeezed the trigger.

_____________

The figure in the window could be seen collapsing.

Ron slid the gun back into the black bag. He rose and reached for the envelope tucked in his pocket.

There was a final instruction he was to follow.

Opening the envelope, he took out the second piece of paper that was kept there. He glanced at the paper. There was writing in it, but wasn't English. He could tell that it was Russian.

Placing the paper with the Russian writing on the floor where he had been standing, Ron pocketed his envelope and left.

By the time he arrived on the ground again, there was a batch of police cars rushing towards the area. Blending back into the crowds by the pavement, Ron made his way out of the region.

He kept his strides brisk, careful not to make eye contact. Within a few minutes, there were police cars rushing through many of the streets. He could hear sirens floating nearby every road.

Keeping himself composed, Ron walked across the district, arriving at a road not far from where he had been left off.

The car that he had arrived in waited by the pavement. The men who had dropped him off were present within, all of them looking through the window as he arrived.

Opening a door, he slid inside. The engine revved to life, and the car drove off.

## ~

When Ron returned to the brotherhood's base, it was early in the morning. Exhausted, he immediately went to sleep. When he awoke the next day, it was already past mid-day.

He rose to hear of news that a massive military standoff had been sparked in Europe. Between supporters of the US, and those of Russia.

The world had descended into war...

An alarmed Ron gathered all that he could about the events of the previous day.

And he realised who it was he had killed.

He stormed into Eyra's personal chamber, shaken.

"Ron, good to see you."

Ron stood there, with his life-long mentor a few feet ahead of him.

"The man I assassinated, he was the US president." Ron said.

Eyra was still, watching him with no change in his expression. "Yes he was."

"We've accidentally triggered a full-scale war!"

Eyra watched him in the same manner, nothing changed in his expression. A few moments of silence rested within the hall, and then Eyra quietly said, "There are no accidents where the brotherhood operates, Ron. Everything is going according to plan."

Ron's gaze was welded onto the man before him.

"According to plan?" His voice had shrunken to a small whisper. "You wanted to start a world war?"

Eyra now turned fully to face him. "For the cause that we have toiled for."

"We were supposed to bring peace." Ron shook his head. "But now, it's going to rain blood."

"Yes it is." Something silky now flavoured Eyra's voice. "For as the conflict intensifies, we will have just what we need... a nuclear war."

There was a moment of silence, over which the air seemed to have gone cold.

"A nuclear war?" Ron hissed.

"It is necessary." said Eyra without flinching.

Ron stepped back, feeling nauseated. "What is this?"

Eyra walked around the large table he stood behind. "Our aim is lasting peace and order. We can sacrifice small amounts of peace in the short term to achieve what we need."

"But how does this aid in achieving what we need?"

A quiet smile slid over Eyra's face. "Our of chaos comes order." He took a few steps forward as he spoke. "A nuclear war and global carnage is just what we need. This will weaken the power structures in this planet to an irreparable degree. The system that we're waging a war against would be brought to its knees... Our influence would be allowed to rise and permeate the globe." There was a dangerous glint in his eyes that Ron had never witnessed before. "And together, our brotherhood would control mankind and bring true order."

"Is that what this has been all about? Control?" Ron asked softly.

"Of course it is." Eyra said calmly. "It always has been. Mankind is incapable of self rule. Incapable of living in harmony by its own self." His voice dipped lower. "As long as weak, selfish elites remain in power, there will be no true peace. If we want to heal this world, we would need to take away their control. We will take hold of the reins, and guide them towards peace."

Ron was staring at his master, a man he had known for so long now. A man he had revered for so long. Ghosts of his past rushed through his mind with a new fervour.

"I joined you almost ten years ago, when my life was broken with war and violence. All I wanted was to end all of it. To bring peace and relief to the world. To make sure children of tomorrow didn't have to grow up on bloodbathed streets as I did." Ron could feel his breathing grow heavier. "To save them from the political power struggles that had taken away my childhood. And now, you've resurrected that very same power struggle that had destroyed my life. Latvia, the Eastern European country, had been torn apart by the US-Russia conflict. A war between pro-Russian insurgents and pro-Western government forces had been commandeered from the outside for fifteen years."

His words were just as soft, but there was something pulsing through them.

"After witnessing the horror of human violence in my childhood, I joined you with the simple aim of doing whatever was necessary to end it all. But it turns out, I had just magnified my own demons and unleashed them upon the whole world."

Eyra turned and gazed calmly at him. His dark eyes flitted with an unusual light.

"Yes... Latvia," he said very softly. "Latvia was our liberation, Ron. Both yours and mine."

"What are you talking about?"

"You are here today because of the dreadful situation your homeland was in back then. It created you, shaped you and gave you purpose. But who do you think you would be thanking if you knew the truth of how it happened? ... How Latvia descended into chaos?" A small smile caressed Eyra's lips. "The truth of how instability visited your home country. It was no accident, Ron. It was our making. My making. It was the reason I was there in your country, along with countless agents of the brotherhood, doing what was necessary to pave the road to where we stand today in US-Russia relations."

Eyra turned and briefly carried his gaze out the window. "What you see today in the state of US-Russia relations was no accident. It was a silent, patient endeavour that we had been working on for decades now. And Latvia was our cornerstone, the country where the spark had been lit, where the fire had been stoked. The beginning of the frosty relationship between America and Russia." He allowed a brief moment of silence to linger between his words. "Twenty five years ago, our agents had snuck into the nation and worked from the shadows, moulding the country's political situation... creating the conditions for the civil war that would erupt. I was there alongside our agents for years. But for me, there was another, far more meaningful goal awaiting in the rubble of the nation."

Eyra shifted, and his eyes were on Ron again.

"You personally tasted the bitterness man's violence can bring, and that was what brought you to me." he told Ron softly. "I had always known that darkness and destruction were true allies to the cause of the brotherhood. For they reveal man's true, gruesome nature to young minds such as yours. Young minds that carry the poison of war... and a fire of resolve. This was what gave us new members to train, such as yourself." He cocked his head. "You are here with us, having unlocked your true potential, doing all of these great things... because of me, Ron."

Ron was perched in that spot, as still as a rock. What he had just heard left echoes roaring in his mind. His senses were rebounding with shock.

"You created that war." he whispered, a numb feeling now sinking through his insides.

He had believed the man before him to be his savoir, the one who had rescued him from the horror of his childhood. But he now realised that he had been wrong.

Eyra was the horror of his childhood.

All this time, Ron had been part of the very affliction that he had been trying to fight his whole life.

He curled his fists, feeling all of the respect that he had for his master vanish behind a sudden, seething rage.

"You've used me." he said. "Everything here has been a lie. We never worked to bring peace, we've worked all along to destroy it."

Eyra was standing as calmly as ever, his hands behind his back. For a long time, his mystic black eyes were on Ron, studying him.

"I was wrong about you, Ron." he said quietly. "All this time, I thought that you were one of loyalty and faithfulness. I believed you would follow me in this goal until the end. Now I see that I was mistaken."

He turned and gazed down the large window at the end of the room. The desert sands could be visible outside. He seemed lost for a moment...

"No matter what happens, I will complete what we started." Turning back around, Eyra looked at Ron again. "We have worked long and hard to reach this stage. This precipice in our struggle. Now, we will not falter."

He walked towards the large table at the centre. Bending down, he opened a drawer at the lower portion and extracted something. A small silver suitcase.

Placing the case on the table, Eyra continued talking. "This case here has what we need for the final stage of this journey. Where we rise and strike when the iron is hot, and when the systems are at their weakest. With this," His hand caressed the case, as if it were a loved one. "We will take control."

Ron waited for a few moments. His mind was working to accept everything that he had heard over the past few seconds. He felt as though he had just woken from a dream.

"I won't let you."

The words were frozen in the air for a moment. Eyra was still looking down at the suitcase. He slowly rose and fixed his gaze on Ron.

"Ron," His voice was soft. "I have had great appreciation for you, and everything you've done over the past few years. But if you dare to get in my way... your fate will be the same as all those who stood in our way."

Ron was still standing where he was, gazing steadily at the man he had once trusted with his life.

"Now," said Eyra, turning to face him fully. "Turn around, and leave my chamber."

Ron stood where he was, his eyes still locked with his master's. He knew what he had to do...

Taking a deep breath, he slowly backed off towards the entrance of the chamber. Eyra was bending down and replacing the suitcase in the drawer where he had taken it.

Ron had reached the entrance. In a flash of light, he had drawn his sword and tossed it across the room. The blade sailed over the air gracefully, heading directly for Eyra.

Eyra turned around, eyes widened. He hurled himself out of the way just in time to miss the sword. The weapon buried itself in the middle of the large table. Eyra was watching the sword as it dangled from where it stuck out. And his eyes moved to the other side of the room...

Ron came dashing towards him, a look of focus and rage in his face.

Before Eyra could react, Ron had rammed into him. The man fell to the ground and rolled over. Taking advantage of it, Ron yanked his blade out from the middle of the table.

Eyra had leapt back to his feet. His eyes moved across the length of Ron's sword, and he looked up at him.

Reaching behind him, Eyra drew his own saber. It was a long, thin rapier. The silver blade flashed in the light from the window.

He launched forward, his blade flying towards Ron. Ron had to move faster than he usually did to block the attack. The two of them stood there with their blades locked, master and apprentice, glaring at each other.

"I joined you to bring an end to chaos." Ron said, a snarl on his face as he looked at Eyra across their swords. "And that is what I will do."

He threw his weight forward, catching Eyra off guard. The man stumbled back, his balance weakened. Ron hurled himself forward, smashing into the man with his shoulder. Eyra toppled to the ground and rolled over.

Without waiting a moment, Ron bent down before the table and opened the drawer. Snatching the silver suitcase, he sprang across the dark chamber towards the window at the end. He could feel Eyra gathering himself and getting back to his feet.

Reaching the end of the chamber, Ron threw himself out of the window. He felt a rush of wind from below, and the sensation of weightlessness. A breathless feeling gripped him as he plunged two storeys towards the mighty dunes of the desert.

He crashed into the soft, cushion-like surface of the sands and went rolling down. Mustering his strength, he caught hold of his body as it slid down the sand dune and climbed back to his feet.

He glanced up at the window through which he had jumped. Standing there, looking down at him was Eyra. There was a cold fury in his black eyes as he gazed below.

Ron's eyes swept about in front of him. Parked just to the right of him, in front of the large structure, was a black car that belonged to the brotherhood. His eyes swerved back to the window... Eyra stood there, a large assault rifle in his hands. He aimed at Ron...

Ron dashed forward from where he was standing, his movement hampered by the sands.

Bullets erupted from Eyra's gun, hitting the desert surface around Ron. Clouds of sand exploded over the area.

Without pausing, Ron leapt towards the car. Reaching it, he pulled the door open and swung inside, even as bullets came crashing through the windows and the roof.

The car roared to life and sped forward across the desert sands. The rain of bullets on and around the car slowly faded, as the vehicle soared away.

Ron placed the silver suitcase on the seat beside him, inhaling deep. A long moment passed, and he realised he was a good distance away from the brotherhood's building.

As he glanced back, he saw a group of vehicles depart from the large structure in the middle of the desert. Three cars and a bike... All of them were speeding towards him.

Ron kept his foot on the throttle, sending the car lurching forward. The car dived and sank as it raced across the desert. Tremors ran through the cabin.

Ron knew that he wouldn't be able outrun the vehicles fast approaching him.

The backseat of the vehicle had a coat lying across, along with a bag that appeared to have a weapon inside of it. He reached for it with one hand, keeping the other hand on the wheel.

Through the rear view mirror, he could see the vehicles nearing... the large gap between them was now shrinking.

He placed the rifle on his lap, his gaze on the path ahead. He traced the faint outline of a city far in the distance, across the desert.

The sound of a motor engine drifted closer to him from behind. He looked back through the window. The man on the bike was surfing through the sand dunes at an incredible speed... He was just a dozen or so feet behind Ron's car. The rider was wearing a black coat and a helmet, with a gun tucked in his pocket.

The man drew his gun, aiming for Ron's head.

Ron pulled himself inside the window as shots rang out. The man shot continuously, sending bullets through the rear screen. One of them whizzed just beside Ron, hitting the front panel. There was burst of sparks. Ron kept his head bent, his eyes focussed ahead. The sound of the motorbike was now closer than ever. Through his rear view mirror, he could see the bike pull forward right beside him...

Ron steered the car to a sudden right, and the vehicle crashed into the biker. The man and his bike soared over a feet, toppling to the ground over the crest of a sand dune.

The three cars behind the biker responded immediately. Fierce gunfire blasted through the air. Ron could feel the hail of bullets strike the desert sands ahead and around him. Many of them came tearing through the metal skin of his car. He kept his head as low as possible, avoiding getting hit.

Taking hold of his rifle, Ron swung out of his window and fired back at the cars behind him. Sparks flew as the hood and the bumper of the cars were sprayed with his bullets. Calmly levelling his aim, Ron sent a bullet at a driver behind one of the cars. The car swung to the side, smashing into another by the right and sending both of them flying over the desert sands.

Without turning back, Ron continued to fire at the last remaining car. The driver steered to the right, saving himself from the shots. Gritting his teeth, Ron lowered his aim and squeezed the trigger...

One of the car's front tyres exploded. Hurtling forward over unequal desert sands, the car flipped over and crashed loudly. The vehicle continued to roll forward violently, spewing debris around it. It rolled a dozen times, sheared metallic parts spraying from it, before slowly coming to rest.

Ron looked back ahead, placing the rifle down on the seat beside him. Ahead of him, the outline of the city was now clearer. He slammed the throttle as hard as he could, and the car went sailing forward.

_____________

Reaching the city in a few minutes, Ron continued driving and got to the airport. From there, he boarded the first flight that was available at the time, not even bothering where it was heading... His priority right now, was to get as far away from the brotherhood as possible.

He was now sitting within a plane with the briefcase beside him.

Ron knew that this silver suitcase was something of dire importance. It was something that Eyra and the brotherhood needed greatly.

He knew that as of this day, he would be the brotherhood's primary target. Their principal foe.

They would hunt him down...

Ron took a deep breath, steadying himself after everything that had happened. His gaze slowly moved out of the window. The clear blue skies were an entrancing sight from up here. A massive field of clouds hung far below, spreading all the way to the horizon where the sun was.

Far below this quiet, peaceful scene... a massive war was raging.

A wave of sadness and guilt washed through Ron.

Madness had descended over the world because of what he had done.

Ron glanced at the Eye of Horus tattooed across his wrist. It had once been a proud mark. And now, it had turned into a scar.

His thoughts flowed back to the past. To when he had initially joined the brotherhood, and his memory roamed through everything that had happened in the past few years...

He closed his eyes.

He had made a mistake. A great, costly mistake.

He drew his mind back to the present and looked at the suitcase beside him.

Hidden inside of it was a plan for the brotherhood to bring the human race under its control.

Ron knew that his task right now was to keep the suitcase far from the reach of his enemy. He knew that its safety could be compromised if he kept it with him: He was now a foe of this group, and they were going to hunt him down relentlessly. He had to hide the suitcase somewhere far away, and then go into hiding.

Leaning back, Ron looked down the hallway within the plane. There were three columns of three seats that stretched through the hall. Young air hostesses strode briskly up and down the place, attending to passengers.

The plane would be arriving in the capital of France in a few hours.

Ron knew that travelling between countries too much would involve risk for him. Authorities were on the hunt for him as well. He would hide the suitcase somewhere in France. That would reduce chances of anything going wrong.

Taking a deep breath, he reclined against his seat and eased his mind. As the plane continued to fly, he was looking out the window the whole time.

## ~

The present

It had been hours since their encounter with the coastal guard. The large boat was now sailing through the waters, its speed just as swift as ever.

River was standing before the boat's railing, watching the sea before him. The other two men were sitting nearby. Both had laptops before them, and were silently working.

Inside of the yacht, they knew that there were more than two dozen more men. Members of the brotherhood, who were here for this task along with them.

River looked at the two others, as they worked before the laptop.

He knew that they needed some time to seek out and to reach their destination.

Bringing his gaze back to the waters outside, River stood there quietly. There was a silent air of resolve that suffused the place.

Anytime now, they would have located the place they were looking for and fixed onto it.

As the vessel rode forth, River watched the vast sea around them.

_____________

The train stalled at the large station for ten minutes. Large crowds of people emerged from it, and new passengers entered.

After that, the doors automatically closed shut, and the train gently started moving. It gathered speed as it moved away from the station, eventually vanishing behind the line of buildings.

Sitting on a seat by the platform was a young man with messy brown hair. He had a distant expression in his eyes as he sat there, alone.

Ron let a few minutes scroll by as he remained there by the station, his gaze far away.

After April had learnt the truth, she had left. Getting down at the very next station... disgusted.

For a few quiet moments, Ron remembered the past. With a sigh, he turned back to the present.

He could feel the anger, the rage, within him. And it was all directed at a man who had once been a mentor and a friend.

He would never forgive that he, Ron, had been used as a tool to bring such great harm around him.

There was only one way Ron would avenge himself.

And it was by stopping Eyra and the others. By putting an end to their madness.

And that was the sole mission of his life.

His jaws clenched, Ron thought over the path before him now.

He needed to get to France. There, he would recover the suitcase that he had hidden months back.

The last time when the war broke, it was hurtling towards a full nuclear showdown. But it had been prevented with a swift intervention by the UN. Eyra's plans had partially been thwarted.

But Ron knew that it was not the end for the brotherhood's grim plan.

They had succeeded in stoking the fire.

The US and Russia were now in a tense enmity, and the entire world remained in a volatile condition. The red-line in Europe was considered dangerous and unstable... Ron knew that a war could be re-ignited between the two sides any time now.

And the brotherhood was working towards it right now...

This time, a nuclear standoff would be inevitable if a war did break.

Ron took a deep breath, mentally constructing a map for what lay at hand now. He knew that the silver suitcase had something very valuable that the brotherhood needed to complete their plan and to take global domination. Now that things were moving in a dangerous direction again, his priority was to recover the suitcase before it fell to his enemies' hands.

Ron also knew that the details of Eyra's sinister plan were stored in the case. He had to get hold of that plan, to see exactly what the brotherhood was plotting. So that he could then stop it.

He took a moment to muster his resolve. His thoughts flashed to April, and a sombre feeling stirred within him.

Ignoring the bruised sensation, he rose and left the place.

## ~

Sitting across Falon's desk was a curly haired man in a suit. He sat with a file in his hands, peering at the CIA director through his glasses.

"Anything to be highlighted from your team's analysts, over the past few days or so?" Falon asked the man.

"A few," replied Seers. "But nothing out of the ordinary."

He placed the file on the desk and opened it. "We been able to track and monitor the armed faction that's fighting the government in Ethiopia. It's not something that's supposed to affect our national security and interests." He opened the file on the desk, glancing down at it for a moment. "We've received intelligence self-styled militias here in Texas are planning to occupy government buildings. Not really a national security threat... more of a protest. We're sure the law enforcement agencies can handle it."

Moving his glasses upwards gentle, Seers continued. "Our latest update from the situation in Burkina Faso that is that a militant Islamist group would be targeting US embassies. We're gonna convey this to the state department right away, have them beef up security there as soon as possible."

"Regular stuff." Falon said, stretching his hands behind his chair.

"Regular stuff." Seers repeated, nodding. He closed the file and looked across the table.

"We're also monitoring the situation in Maldives, where a military coup looks to be building." Seers added.

Falon spent a few silent moments thinking.

"Any new intelligence on SkyBlazer?" he asked, sitting straight on his chair.

Seers was rubbing the area in between his eyes where his glasses rested. He reached into his file and flipped through the pages for a moment.

Pausing, he carefully extracted one particular page and looked into it.

"We picked up on something that was reportedly found on a Russian blogger's website." he told Falon. "It's not really big news, it basically just gives us some very small details about the missile."

Falon reclined on his chair slightly.

SkyBlazer was a warhead that Russia had recently added to its stockpile of nuclear weapons. Right now, it was the single most powerful nuclear weapon on this planet, and its impact range could extend beyond three cities the size of New York. Here was something that had surpassed all known and tested boundaries to the world of nuclear warfare.

It was a project announced by the Russian leadership a few months ago. Since then, the CIA had been scrambling to gather as much intel about it as possible.

Seers turned the page over and passed it to Falon.

Falon drew himself straight and peered into page. It was a report put together by Seers' analysts. It outlined some functional elements of this deadly new missile.

"Slightly larger than regular warhead size parameter," Falon mumbled to himself as he read from the page's description. "Weight – twenty thousand pounds. Size – hundred and fifty megatons. We already knew all of this." He frowned. "After the announcement of the weapon, we had more bloggers and web-zines hunting for details of the weapon than people in American intelligence."

"Well," Seers shrugged. "nothing sets off the media like some good old weapons of mass destructions."

Falon grunted. "And SkyBlazer's the best that they've gotten to sink their fangs into in a century, perhaps."

Bloated over the right hand corner of the page was a small sketching of the warhead. A crude approximation that was drawn about clearly by the analysts here. Falon knew it held no significance in their intelligence discussion.

"SkyBlazer was added to the Russians' nuclear shelf months ago," Falon lowered the paper. "and yet, we're unable to find much about it."

"As of now," Seers said. "we're unable procure too much of details about the weapon given the resources we have. We know the size and range of the weapon. And we know that it could be stored in an underground base somewhere in their country, or in a submarine or a warship on the Baltic sea."

Falon nodded slowly, processing the information. His eyes floated out of the window behind Seers. "The Russians and their bombing capacities have always scared the heck out of the CIA. But with a weapon like SkyBlazer, I think we're entering a new level in the nuclear arms race right now."

He brought his gaze back into the room, nodding at Seers. "Well, I guess we're done then."

Seers gathered the file and looked up at Falon. "We'll keep you updated if we do find something new anywhere."

Seers walked out the office, leaving Falon in here alone. Falon spent some time organising the files placed on his table, before walking out himself.

He strolled down the large hall that had countless desks, with people at work behind most of them. He paused by one of the rooms, surprised.

April was there inside, sitting behind her work desk.

Pushing the door open, Falon walked inside.

April didn't immediately notice him come inside. She continued to gaze into the wall, appearing to be in a daze.

"Rhodes, you're back!"

Breaking from his reverie, she looked at him. "What... oh, yeah. I – I am."

Falon tucked his hands into his pant pockets and waited for a moment. "What happened to the assignment? did you get more intel on our guy?"

The expression on April's face changed. After a moment, she said, "They were cold leads. I found nothing."

Falon felt surprised at hearing that. He looked at April for some time, before nodding.

"Okay, then."

There was a sense of disappointment within him, as he stood before his top cadet. She was the type that rarely ever came back empty handed. Rarely ever disappointed.

Sighing, he nodded at her and walked out the door.

Sitting before her desk, April watched her boss exit the room. She ran both hands through her head, feeling disillusioned.

After having heard the shocking truth, April couldn't bring herself to stay with Ron and work alongside him. She had never imagined... She knew that he was wanted for various other crimes around the world. But she was never prepared for what came at the end...

She came back here, honouring an unspoken agreement not to sell him off.

A few moments passed before the daze cleared, and she was able to focus again.

Inhaling deep, she turned to the computer, getting ready to start work again.

Switching on the monitor, she began to check her email and attend to some reports that she had received. Some time passed while she sat there working, before a familiar disenchanted feeling began to stir within her.

Her focus slackened, and she looked away from the monitor.

She was back here, working for the machine again... the same structures that were holding the world prisoner.

## ~

After arriving at the city, Ron had searched for a way to reach Mexico from here. He knew that he had to make the trip through illegal routes, and there were many that he could easily avail.

He was now on a bus that was heading there, with a dozen more passengers along with him. Most of them were people who had sneaked across the border illegally, and wanted to visit relatives in the other country.

Ron looked out the window, watching as the bus thrashed its way through the road. On both sides were large fields that seemed to run for miles. They would pass an occasional house every now and then, built in the middle of the sprawling greenlands.

They were expected to arrive at a small town in Mexico in a couple of hours. The man whom Ron was travelling to meet lived in a village close to the destination town. Upon arriving, Ron would make his way to his house, and have a fake ID and passport produced from him. He knew that this man was the best at manufacturing fake passports. And Ron would need this to travel without catching the eye of the authorities.

When this was done, Ron would begin his journey to France...

The old bus shuddered as it made its way through these rural roads. Ron folded his arms, keeping his back rested against the seat. The loud noise of chatter filled the air as the rest of the bus's occupants exchanged conversation in Spanish.

_____________

The mediator, Marianne Silva, was sitting cross legged inside of a plane with a book in her hands. The small private jet was owned by her office, and the regular trips that she was required to make in them were funded by the UN.

The seats in here were well spaced out, leaving enough room for the whole of her team. Sitting by the row on the left was her secretary. The most important members of her team were with her on this trip.

She was now travelling to Poland, to have a meeting with the nation's leaders. The trip was aimed at bridging a better relationship between Russia's allies and NATO. She knew that this was easier said than done, but she was confident that with her persistence, she could bring some ease to the current tensions.

Thankfully, she did hold a great amount of influence in the state of relations between Russia and the West. Her diplomacy was pivotal in keeping this quarrel from becoming deadly.

All of her efforts, all her attention was aimed at preventing the world powers from heading back in the path they had a few years back. A path that could have very nearly been catastrophic.

In fact, they had come so close to the brink of a nuclear war in the previous conflict that under the climate of uncertainty at present, countless leading biochemical organisations such as Energize and Parkson's claimed to be developing chemical toxins which, if dispersed into the air, would clear the radioactivity in case a full thermonuclear war did actually occur.

Marianne thought it was both alarming and humouring at the same time. It was surreal that there were corporations that were actually preparing for a calamity that she was struggling to avert.

She looked out the window, watching the plane glide over mountains of large, smokey clouds. Resting in the middle of the sky by the distance was the sun, now magnified in its splendour and aura.

She watched the rich rays of the sun stream into the jet, breathing warmth inside.

A minor turbulence brushed past the inside of the craft. A faint sound escaped from the luggage area as baggage apparently toppled over.

Marianne turned away from the window, her attention coming back inside.

"How's the schedule going for today?" she asked, looking at her secretary.

"Pretty tight." said Cecile, her secretary. "We're going to land at Warsaw, and then head to meet Prime Minister Roland. We'd be spending some the rest of the evening with him and his cabinet."

Marianne nodded. "So when is the plane to land?"

Cecile glanced at her phone to check the time. "It's now ten. We're expected to get there by noon."

"Great." said Marianne. She looked down at her book, allowing her mind to sink into it.

She had no way of knowing that her time here on this plane would be her last few hours as a free person.

## ~

The bus reached its destination, and Ron made his way to the village where his friend was. He walked for some distance and then availed an auto, a three-wheeled vehicle which was used in this rural area as a cab.

He was now in the village where the man was. He strode down the unlevelled roads that were filled with potholes. On both sides of him were humble two or three storied buildings. He could tell many buildings in the place were deserted and empty.

Ron knew the way to the where the guy he had come for lived. His gaze on the road ahead of him, he made down the rural region quietly. His sword was slung behind him, along with the black bag where he kept his gun and some ammo.

In a few minutes, he had reached the house where the guy lived. He knocked on the door and waited.

A few seconds later, the door swung open and a chubby-faced man stood there.

The man's expression bloomed in a smile as he saw who stood before him. "Ron! Good to see you, Amigo."

"Great to see you too, Buck." Ron said, as Buck pulled him into a tight bear-hug.

"So what's brought you all the way here, man?" asked Buck, as Ron broke free.

"I need your help getting a fake passport." Ron answered, as the two of them walked into the house. Buck's house was simple and tidy. There were two rooms and a kitchen. Apart from a TV set at the front of the hall and a large sofa, nothing else occupied the hall.

"Well, you came to the right place, man." Buck looked sideways at Ron. "I've been spending my time putting together as many of those as I can. Just gimme a photograph of yours, and it'll be done right away."

"Good to hear." Ron said.

"So how're things coming along, man?" asked Buck, as the two of them settled onto the sofa. "You still on the run from the authorities?"

"Always will be." Ron said.

Buck gave a hearty laugh. "The good life. You've gotta teach me some of those tricks you've got, brother. Running from the cops."

"Anything changed in the village?" asked Ron. "Seemed more deserted than usual."

"Oh, yeah." said Buck, a more serious expression on his face now. "We've got a Marxist militant group that's in control here. People have left for other parts of the country. In fact," He scowled as a thought crossed him. "you'd better get your passport and leave this area as fast as you can. They usually take hold of foreigners, suspicious that they're working for the CIA or something."

"Yeah," Ron said. "I'll be out of here quick. I've gotta get moving anyway."

Buck stretched his arms, yawning. "All right, let's get to work."

He rose and made his way to one of the rooms, and Ron followed him. The room had shelves on the wall, most of which were cluttered with papers and other junk.

Buck sat there for some time, examining the papers on the shelves. Ron stood behind him, patiently waiting.

The two of them rummaged through the junk in the room for many minutes, before Buck finally found what he was looking for.

He extracted what looked like a small handbook, and handed it to Ron.

"A passport." said Ron, holding it.

"Yup." Buck beamed. "Your new identity. And it's 100% foolproof. There isn't a chance the authorities would be able to detect that it's fake."

Ron looked at Buck, grinning. "Knowing you, pal, I'm sure they won't."

He opened the booklet and flipped through the pages. It felt authentic, completely genuine.

"All we need now is to add your picture to it, before it's done." Buck said. "But it has to be done through the computer." He glanced at the old laptop on the desk by the room's corner. There was a scanning machine, a Xerox machine and some strange looking machines that were cluttered about the table.

"I know about that," said Ron. "I got a photo of mine sent to your mail account some time back."

He looked at the desk with the laptop and the range of strange devices. Ron knew that this hardware helped Buck with his job when fabricating these IDs.

"Great, then." said Buck. "Let's do this."

The two of them sat, taking the online copy of the photo and digitally sewing it into the passport. Ron knew that Buck had a lifetime's experience in doing this with perfection...

About an hour passed, before Buck had the passport readied with Ron's photo. He took the small booklet with the American crest at the front page, and handed it to Ron.

Smiling, Ron flipped the booklet open. "Perfect."

He looked up at his old friend. "You never disappoint, pal."

"Now let's get you some other ID, for just in case." said Buck.

The two of them continued the same process over, rummaging through Buck's untidy shelves. They finally found a driver's license and some other IDs lying there. Like the passport, all of them also required a photo to be digitally inserted in.

They returned to the table with the laptop and other equipment, doing what they did for the laptop. It took about half an hour before all three of the new IDs were perfectly printed with Ron's photo. A driver's license, a social security card and a passport card. All of them were now genuine.

Buck handed them to Ron, smiling. "Enjoy the new identity."

Ron examined the IDs, feeling some of his anxiety now quelled. He turned to Buck and nodded. "Thanks a lot, buddy."

"Don't mention it, amigo." Rising to his feet, he gave Ron a thump on the back. Ron slid the passport and the three new IDs into his black bag and zipped it close.

The two of them walked out of the room. They froze as they reached the hall...

The house's door, which they had forgotten to lock, was wide open... and five militants holding rifles stood within the hall.

One of them raised his gun and pointed at Ron. "There he is... the American."

"Get him." said another of the Marxist militants. Before Ron could so much as react, the five men had launched onto him and had forced him to the ground. His hands were tied, and his face was scarfed...

Ron could hear Buck screaming.

"No, wait!" he roared. "You're making a big mistake! He's not the CIA! He's just–"

"Shut up." said one of the men, holding his gun towards Buck. His voice dried.

Helpless and tied, Ron was marched out of the house by the men. Through the scarf wrapped over his face, he could see nothing of what was happening in front, except for a blurred impression.

A few minutes of marching... and he found himself entering a large house. The men made him sit on a chair, before finally removing his scarf.

He was in a dimly lit room. The five men who had captured him were standing in front, and a few more were also present here. All of them stood spread over the room, holding guns and watching him closely.

A man slowly walked up from behind. He had a toned and muscular physique, and trimmed white hair. There was a ruthlessness in his eyes that Ron could feel, as he walked forward.

Standing before Ron, the man was quiet for a few moments. He turned to a militant by the right and asked, "Where did we find him?"

"Just a couple of blocks down the road, General Mordo." the other replied.

General Mordo turned back to fix his gaze on Ron, who stared back calmly.

"What's your name?" he asked Ron.

Ron allowed the question to loom over him for a few moments, before deciding to answer.

"Ron."

"Which intelligence agency do you work for, my friend?" Mordo said, bending down towards Ron.

"Work for them? I'm wanted by them." Ron responded, his tone furious. "All of them. The agencies you're hiding from are hunting me down as well."

"That's a good try." said Mordo stubbornly. "But we don't see any reason to believe that."

Ron shook his head, feeling tired and exasperated.

"We don't allow anyone to enter the region we control." Mordo went on. "For security purposes, but we keep a very close watch to make sure Americans don't get in. And if they do, they usually are from the CIA or the government." A small frown settled on his face. "Americans just have to meddle everywhere for their own interests."

Ron allowed silence to drop over the place, before inhaling deep and speaking in a slow tone.

"I came here to fix myself a fake passport. So I can travel without being detected by the authorities myself. If you want, go on and check my bag."

Mordo continued to look at him, the same stubborn look in his eyes. And then, he turned to a man by the right and gestured towards Ron's bag.

The other guy nodded and hurried to where Ron was sitting. Removing his bag from his back, the man unzipped it and searched through the contents. He brought out the fake passport and the IDs that he had just manufactured along with Buck.

The guy looked between the three IDs, examining them himself for a moment, before walking upto Mordo and handing them to him.

Mordo surveyed the passport and the IDs, while Ron and the rest of the men waited in silence.

After a few moments, he looked up at Ron. "Fake. We know that there's a guy just down the road who makes this type of stuff. Some of our men have used him too."

He handed the passport and the IDs back to the guy who had brought them. The guy walked back to where Ron's bag was to replace them.

Mordo stood with his hands behind his back, his eyes on Ron for a long, quiet moment.

"This cause is important to us," he said softly. "but we try our best not to harm civilians." He walked to the back of the room, his form growing dimmer in the bad lighting. "Seeing as you're not lying, it makes little sense in holding you prisoner ... I suppose we will have to let you go."

A faint sense of relief streamed into Ron.

Mordo continued, "You will remain here for the rest of the day. Tomorrow morning, my men will take you to the outskirts of the area we control and drop you there. From there," His eyes paused over Ron for a moment. "leave, and don't ever come back here."

Mordo nodded to the men in the room. Together, they all turned and walked out of the room. They shut the door behind them as they left, leaving Ron alone in here. The anxiety within him slowly faded.

## ~

Some time later, General Mordo received a call.

"Hello?" he said, holding his phone against his ear.

"Greetings." said a cold voice. "My name is Eyra. I'm calling you for I came to hear a while ago that your group took in a prisoner by the name of Ron." A moment of silence fell, and the man's breathing was heard over the line. "This person is of great value to us, and we are willing to pay you to hand him over to us."

Mordo was thinking for a moment, the phone placed against his ear. He then asked, "How much are you willing to pay?"

He could sense a smile through the voice breathing across the line.

"As much as you want." replied Eyra.

Mordo drifted into thought again, considering the offer he was given. He thought about the prisoner they had just taken, Ron. He was now locked up in a room, awaiting release the next morning.

Smiling, Mordo told the man, "All right, we'll do it."

The man on the other side of the line chuckled softly. The sound made a light ripple course through Mordo's skin.

"Excellent."

## ~

Warsaw, Poland

Five members of the brotherhood were sitting outside of a cafe. It was mid-day here and the traffic on the street beside them was optimal. The four of them were wearing black coats and jeans. Three of them held newspapers before them to blend into the environment. Just further down their street, a massive private airfield could be seen. The four of them were paying attention to the movement from the airfield. Anytime now, the mediator, Marianne Silva, would be landing in that airfield.

The four of them were here on a mission. And it was to abduct the mediator.

She was essential to their plans.

One of the men checked his watch. It was almost time. Marianne's plane was supposed to be landing anytime now.

_____________

The next morning, Ron woke up in the same room where he had been held captive. Golden sunlight streamed in the room through circular openings at the top of the walls.

In a brief while, his door had opened and a group of militants walked into the room.

"It's time to go," one of them told Ron.

They escorted Ron outside, where a Jeep was waiting. General Mordo sat in the driver's seat, along with two others behind. Ron boarded the vehicle, along with the men who had escorted him to it.

The engine rumbled to life, and the large machine drove down the road.

Ron had his bag by his side. He checked the contents of the bag, and saw that everything was the way it was. The passport and the IDs were safe in the front compartment.

He looked outside, watching them pass rows of small, humbly designed buildings. A deserted and quiet air permeated the region. Occasionally, Ron would spot someone moving down the road, or a vehicle emerging from a lane.

Ron couldn't help but notice that General Mordo, along with everyone else in the Jeep, were silent all through the way.

They drove for less than an hour, before they reached the outskirts of the village.

The jeep stopped in the middle of the road, and Mordo turned to Ron.

"We're here." he said. "This is where we're going to drop you."

Ron nodded, and then pushed the door open. Getting down from the vehicle, he looked ahead and considered the scene before him.

The long stretch of road was flanked by small one storied buildings. They appeared to be shops and restaurants, with signboards and banners atop them. Old vehicles were parked by the pavement, some of them with windows cloaked with dust. There were no signs of life nearby.

Ron let his eyes travel over the scene for a moment, before slinging his back around him.

The doors of a red car parked a few feet ahead of him opened... and a group of men in black coats emerged. All of them had their eyes on him.

Ron slowly turned around and looked behind him. Men in black coats were emerging from a dust-ridden car parked behind as well. All of them were looking at him, the same steely glint in their eyes.

The Eye of Horus was branded on all of their wrists.

Ron's eyes moved to Mordo, who was looking at him through the jeep's windscreen.

"Sorry... But we need the money."

The jeep spun around and went driving down the road the way it had come.

The trail of dust behind it slowly settled back to the ground. Ron watched the men standing on both sides of the road. All of them were focussed and still, guns ready in their hands as they watched him.

Ron pulled out the sword from behind him, and then dashed to the side of the road. He could feel the men react instantly, their guns rising towards him.

Ron had launched himself into the window of one of the shops when gunfire roared in the air. His body crashed through the window and landed on the ground. Bullets came streaking into the place, shattering the glass windows. Ron kept his head ducked as he raced down the empty shop. Broken furniture and debris lay all over the place, and Ron pushed them off his way as he ran.

Two of the men appeared by the door opposite to him. As they raised their weapons, Ron dived to the side. Heavy gunfire burst through the room. Clouds of dust sprayed on the floor and the furniture hit by the bullets.

Rolling over to the side, Ron took cover behind a broken table and reached within his bag. Pulling out the assault rifle, he waited for a moment. As the men stopped shooting momentarily, he sprang out and fired. The two of them were thrown back at the force of the bullets that hit them. They slammed against the wall behind them and fell over.

Ron reached the exit, his gun raised. As he emerged, he saw the men charging alongside him by the street outside. He aimed and fired, bringing down two of the men. Before he could continue, one of them hurled onto him from behind. Ron was thrown forward as the man's weight collided onto him. His gun slipped and went skittering on the floor in front of him.

Ron crashed to the ground, rolling over a few times. As his body came to a stop, he felt his vision swim...

He felt the world around him growing dimmer... In his final moment of consciousness, he saw the men's feet as they walked towards him from around.

## ~

Somewhere far away, a group of men from the brotherhood were on a boat. River stood with his hands on the railings, looking down the sea. There was a faint smile on his lips.

The two men who had earlier been working on the laptop now stood by either side of him.

They had successfully located their destination. They now knew exactly where it was.

The boat was ploughing through the waters, faster than it was before.

River inhaled deeply, enjoying the fresh seawater breeze as it streamed through his lungs. Identifying their destination on a radar had been the first step, and it was now complete.

In time, they would be reaching it...

_____________

Ron opened his eyes.

He found himself hanging upside down, his head dangling a few feet from the floor. The long chain bound around his legs was anchored to the ceiling, which was higher up than normal.

The room he was in had faded, dark walls with no windows. A few tiny holes on the walls allowed the only light to trickle in. A mild incense lingered in the air that Ron was too familiar with.

The sensation of hanging upside down was unnatural to him, who felt a weight grow within his head. He couldn't move his arms, which were tied behind his back.

Ron closed his eyes and attempted to regulate his breath. Inhaling slowly, before letting the air out.

Some time passed before the sound of a door opening came from behind him. He couldn't move, to see who it was...

A pair of feet could be heard approaching him slowly.

Eyra walked before where Ron was hanging, his cold black eyes on him.

The two of them were face to face, a foot's distance between them. Through his inverted vision, Ron could see the smile on his enemy's face. The sight of it made his blood boil.

"Fiend." he spat.

Eyra laughed softly, his teeth showing.

"And so creator and creation meet again."

Ron felt a stinging hatred give way through him.

"Creation?" he said, his jaws clenched. "Is that what I am to you?"

"You were once my great triumph. Now, you've become my greatest failure." Eyra was silent for a few long moments, his gaze fixed on his prisoner.

"You were very fortunate to have evaded my forces for so long now." he said. "But there isn't a place you can hide, Ron." Eyra's voice dropped to a hiss. "I am everywhere."

Their eyes were fastened around each other.

"You betrayed us and fled many months ago, thinking that you were capable of stopping what was meant to come." said Eyra. "But you are a pawn in this game. Your little rebellion ends here. Now tell me, where is the suitcase that you stole from me?"

Silence lingered after his words. The air remained still as the two of them glared at each other.

Eyra remained as calm as ever, but Ron could feel something dangerous flickering within the depths of his dark eyes.

"There are many ways in which we can do this, Ron."

"Suit yourself." Ron said.

Eyra stood where he was, nothing moving in his features. He then took a step back and nodded.

"I know you're going to enjoy your stay here... old friend."

His smile growing, he vanished from Ron's sight, walking back to the room door behind him.

The sound of the door shutting resounded within the room. And then silence fell.

Ron took a deep breath, collecting his calm.

He knew that whatever was coming wasn't going to be pleasant. A faint tension brewed within him.

I need to get out of here.

Hanging there helpless and restrained, he mentally searched for any way through which he could escape. Any remote avenue through which he could get himself out of this place...

After a long time, he felt his eyes widen. He realised there was a way.

_____________

It had been hours since April had started work. And yet, she had finished very less today.

A sense of exhaustion tugged at her as she sat before the laptop, working through the reports.

She decided to take a short break and get herself a cup of coffee. Massaging her temples for a moment, she then rose and headed out of room.

She was in the cafeteria a minute later, looking out of the window with a steaming mug in her hand.

Her gaze was lost in the vast city she saw below. Massive buildings rose around them, their glass walls gleaming in the light of the evening sun. Streaks of pink animated the clear blue skies, with large clouds that drifted past peacefully.

April gazed at the scene for a long while, drinking her coffee. A calming feeling arose within, quenching some of the discord.

The sound of her cell beeping broke the peaceful silence.

Frowning, she pulled out the slim device and held it against her ear. "Hello?"

"April... Listen closely, please. This is Ron."

_____________

Ron had used his tied hands to slowly extract the phone in his pant pocket. He had then dialled for the only person whom he knew he could approach in this situation for help.

After a long second, April responded.

"Ron," she said, a small stiffness in her voice. "What is it?"

"Listen," said Ron. "I've been captured by the brotherhood."

A long silence followed.

"What?" April's voice was soft, but Ron could sense the shock.

"I'm hanging upside down at their lair. They're going to extract the location of the suitcase from me."

He could feel the effect in April as she breathed through the line.

The strain of hanging upside down while holding his phone to his ears with his hands tied was too much. He felt the device slip mildly in his sweaty hands.

"Listen," Ron said, gripping the phone tighter to prevent it from sliding. "I know that what I revealed to you had shaken you. It should have. But I had never imagined that what I was doing would impact the world like this. I was only working for peace... and that's the only reason I'm still fighting. Because right now, the world's heading for a bleak place and I'm the only one with the tools to stop it. I need your help."

_____________

As the phone hung up, April looked at the screen for a few seconds. She pocketed the device and stood there with the mug in her hands. A quiet trepidation was building within her.

A sense of powerlessness struck her, as wondered what she was to do...

The coffee had almost gone cold as she stayed as she was, looking outside the window. The sun had almost set now, and the lavish city was beginning to dress itself in preparation of the night. Lamps were beginning to turn on in the street below, as were offices.

For a long time, her eyes were frozen on the scene, watching. The sight made a strange sensation well within her all of a sudden.

This was her home.

God bless America.

She realised what she was going to do.

This game that she was in had never been for her. She was driven by a desire to protect the ideals of this great nation. Freedom, justice... democracy. And right now, neither the CIA nor the government were fighting for those ideals.

But she knew someone who was.

Placing the cup back on the table, she turned and strode out of the room.

## ~

The large hangar was consumed in darkness. It sprawled over a large area, with a massive machine resting at the centre of it. This was a place that was restricted, and only a few authorised personnel could visit it.

The lights blazed on. Standing at the entrance of the place was April. A nervous look occupied her face, as she stood there in the top-secret facility.

She had passed through the door using a stolen ID left on a superior's table.

This place was somewhere close to the CIA's headquarters, and she had rushed here in a cab.

Walking forward, she gazed at the massive jet that sat at the centre of the chamber. It was large and bulky, with wings that spawned for a few metres. She knew that it was built to be able to carry a few passengers... but the important feature of this machine was its speed. It was among the fastest jets built, capable of flying at mach 3. It was guarded for critical missions involving their top operatives.

The immenseness of what April had done hit her. She had just backstabbed the CIA, and was about to steal one of their most precious assets. She knew that once they came to know about this, she would become a top enemy of this organisation.

Going from one of the top members to a despised foe.

April felt a brush of humour at the thought.

Without waiting any more, she made her way to the centre of the chamber. A ramp was raised to the side of the jet, leading into it. She mounted it, and found herself in a small room that would provide comfortable space for two people. At the front was a large desk spread with controls, a digit-pad, and a few screens. Taking a seat behind the control system, she turned the computer on.

She gave her first command to the computer, which was transmitted to the hangar's system through Bluetooth. And the roof of the hangar slowly slid open in two halves. April was looking through the windscreen, and she saw the star-lit night sky come to view as the roof parted.

She turned to the controls and entered the co-ordinates where she needed to go. It was somewhere in a country far away. Ron had given her the exact location when he had spoken to her.

Registering the co-ordinates, the plane braced itself to begin. The engine burst to life, and a blast of air issued from below them as the plane lifted off the ground. It gently hovered upwards, moving out of the hangar through the roof. And then, it went shooting into the vast night skies.

_____________

Ron spat out a paste of blood, feeling the side of his face burn. Jeers and laughter filled the air around him as the men standing about relished in his pain.

Biting back his anger, Ron turned and looked at the man in front who had just punched him. He was toned and muscular, wearing a blue vest and long shorts. Standing behind him were others from the brotherhood, all enjoying what they were doing to their enemy.

Eyra quietly stood at the very back of the crowd, a gleeful light in his eyes as he watched.

Ron was sitting on a chair in the same room, with his hands still tied. He maintained a completely calm expression as he watched the brutal men in front.

The man in the blue vest sent another blow, this time to Ron's stomach. A loud smack was heard as his fist collided, and Ron felt the air blown off his system.

The jeers and laughter boomed louder. Ron panted, feeling a stinging pain spread through his insides. He allowed a few seconds to pass before he gathered himself.

Looking at the man with the blue vest, he said, "That the best you got, you little wuss?"

The man's sneer melted. He stared at Ron without anything in his expression. He then chuckled and said, "No, this is the best I got."

He stepped forward and swung his leg across. Large and muscular, it smashed into Ron from the side, and he hit the ground on his chair.

A wave of cheer erupted from the crowd. Claps resounded within the room.

The man with the blue vest said, "You're got spirit, boy. We appreciate it. We'll tell you what... we're gonna savour our time with you. We'll leave you today with a soft opening session."

And with that, they turned and slowly trickled out of the room, their rugged voices fading along with them. Eyra stood as he was at the back of the room.

His eyes were frozen on Ron, watching as he lay on the ground, bruised and bleeding.

As quiet returned to the room, he strolled upto where Ron was.

"I once thought that you were an intelligent young man. But I now see that I was blinded by my attachment to you... you're a fool."

Blood trickling down his nose, Ron slowly raised his head and stared Eyra in the eye. He felt a putrid sensation that he had never felt so strongly before.

"I swear to you ... I will kill you."

Eyra laughed softly. Sweeping around, he walked out of the room, and the door shut behind him.

As silence fell, Ron remained where he was on the floor...

His limbs seared with a tired, exhausted sensation. And his eyes yearned for sleep.

Without resisting the urge as it swept through him, Ron closed his eyes and drifted into a calm, black world.

Hours could have passed as he lay there, wrapped in the tranquility of his sleep... or even days.

_____________

April watched as the plane slowly lowered in altitude. The ground below her grew clearer with the jet's descent. They were now moving over a vast desert. The pale light from the moon spread illumination on the sands below.

She kept her eyes peeled as she flew through.

A few moments later, she could see a large structure somewhere far ahead. Standing lonesomely in the middle of the desert.

The plane descended slowly, and in a few minutes, it had landed on the coarse terrain.

The ramp emerged from the exit, and April came striding down it.

She looked at the lair of the brotherhood, which lay sprawled a few hundred metres away. She was carrying a small bag with her, which she placed on the sandy ground and unzipped.

Reaching into the bag, she removed a handgun which she slid into her coat pocket. Plunging her hands into the bag again, she unearthed a large assault rifle and loaded it.

She brought out a few cartridges of ammo, which she stuffed into different areas of her coat.

Grabbing a quick breath, April began jogging across the sand dunes to the large structure that rested ahead.

_____________

The vibration of his phone woke Ron up.

With his tied hands, he extracted the device and held it between his shoulder and his head.

"Hello?"

"Ron, this is April." came a familiar voice. "I just wanted to call to tell you to stay away from the wall."

The haze of sleep hadn't cleared for Ron, who struggled to process what she meant.

"What? what do you mean?"

He turned sideways and looked at the wall by the other end. He noticed that there was a strange object that was squeezed into the hole that was there for sunlight.

"What is that?" he asked, squinting.

"Just stay away!"

A loud blast swallowed the air, reverberating through the room. Dust erupted, and debris went spraying across the place. Ron covered his ears and kept to the ground. A few bits of concrete hit him.

As the dust cleared, he slowly looked up. What the hell?

April's figure could be made out, approaching through the dust.

"That was C4." said April, jogging towards Ron.

"How'd you find me in here?"

"I traced you." she explained, as she bent down and cut him free with a knife.

Ron rubbed his wrists, lying there with his bonds cut free. Rising, he looked April in the eye and nodded.

"Thanks."

"Thank me after we're out of here." said April, turning to the wall that they had blown up.

_____________

The two of them ran across the desert, towards the parked plane. They were halfway towards the jet when they could hear gunfire resound across the silence.

Ron threw a glance back and saw men emerging from the blasted wall of his room. They were armed and firing at them.

"Let's go, come on." said Ron, hurrying April forward. The two of them bounded across the mountains of sand, sinking and rising along with the dunes. Far behind them, the men fired relentless into the massive desert, trying to bring down the two small dots moving in the distance.

Some of the bullets buried into the desert sand nearby where April and Ron were, a deadly accuracy despite the large distance.

They were almost the jet when the sound of engines roaring came from behind.

The two of them looked back to see the men now boarding vehicles and racing forward towards them.

Turning ahead, the two of them propelled themselves forward. They reaching the plane's ramp and went sprint up towards the cabin.

Shots rang out again, as the men in the vehicles leaned through the window and fired at them.

By now, Ron and April were inside of the plane. April rushed to a seat before the control desk, and quickly operated the plane's command.

Through the windscreen, they saw the vehicles rushing towards them.

"Time to go." April said, and a shudder ran through the inside as the plane lifted into the air.

It slowly floated upwards, the thrust of it leaving a heavy whirl of sand in the ground below them. The plane continued to levitate above the ground for a moment. And in one swift motion, it blasted off into the skies.

_____________

"Thanks a lot, Rhodes."

Sitting before the controls, April nodded. She was quiet for a moment, appearing to teeter at the edge of something.

"I'm sorry for storming out the last time." she said without turning to him. "I allowed my emotions to get in my way."

"You've made it up to me." said Ron, stretching his arms as he sat in the seat beside her.

They sank into the silence, watching through the windscreen as the jet streaked through the air. The vast darkness of the night sky cloaked their surroundings, with glimmers of silver starlight spread over it. Clouds were frozen around them as large dark masses.

"So what's the plan now?" April asked, frowning as she focussed ahead.

Ron stopped reclining and sat forward with his arms folded.

"Now, we've got to get to France, where I had hidden the suitcase months ago. It contains this key component to a master-plan that they have for taking over the world. We need to recover it before the brotherhood does." He scowled, following a cord of thought. "And we need to get it also to know what their plan is, so we can stop them."

April fell silent as he finished, appearing to be deep in thought for some time.

"So here's what we'll do." she said finally. "This is a jet that can get us somewhere fast, we don't wanna lose that advantage. We'll take it all the way into Europe. We'll land by a boarder close to France, and then get in by some other means. To make sure that the CIA can't track us through the jet."

Ron nodded. "Yeah. The new passport and ID that I've got should let me move through the border without trouble, and you can use your CIA pass."

They sank back to silence, contemplating the task ahead as the plane journeyed to Europe.

_____________

His eyes surveying the entire scene in here, Falon stood still with his hands behind his back. A dozen or more high ranking officials from the CIA, as well as law enforcement agents, were here with him in the hangar. Where the plane was which had just been stolen.

"So we know for certain that it was her?" asked one of the CIA executives, looking at Falon

Scowling as he looked about the place, Falon nodded. "It was April Rhodes."

Just a minute ago, all of them had reviewed the security recordings stored in the place. To find out how this highly guarded facility had been breached, and how one of their most valuable assets had been stolen.

What they saw shocked them.

"April Rhodes," said another high ranking CIA executive. The man was standing beside Falon, the look of shock still on his face. "One of our finest agents... why did this happen?"

Falon took a deep breath. "It doesn't matter."

He turned to fully face the man beside him, keeping his face expression-less as always. "What matters now, is that Ms Rhodes is no longer on our side. Here on, she's a wanted criminal."

## ~

Through the darkness, nothing was visible.

The quiet was shattered as a tense voice called, "Hello! Who's there?"

Many moments passed and no answer came. The silence continued to linger, and a shiver of emptiness emanated through the air.

A minute or so passed, before the lights glared on. Sitting tied to a chair in the middle of the room, the mediator looked up. There was a mixture of confusion and panic in Marianne's eyes as she looked about.

She seemed to be sitting inside some sort of abandoned construction factory. The large hall had broken equipment and old tools lying about by the floor. The old metallic walls were tarnished with a deep red coloured rust.

Walking into the large chamber came a group of four armed men. The same men who had intercepted her vehicle at Warsaw and abducted her. They were wearing the same black coat and had their searing gazes on her.

Marianne's panic mounted as the men slowly approached her from across the large hall.

They paused some feet before her, all of their eyes boring into her.

"What do you want?" Marianne asked, allowing a note of anger to animate her voice.

Silence followed her words, as the men continued to stare heavily at her.

"We want peace." said the man in front. "And our peace... is your chaos."

Marianne felt the anguish deepen within her. She shifted her gaze, looking at each of the men.

"Why've you done this?" she asked.

"Because you provide a gateway... to something we're after."

"What do you mean?" asked Marianne.

The man's smile widened. "Your job comes with a lot of power and influence, Madam Marianne. You have the capacity to change everything on the global scale."

He walked forward slightly, now a couple feet before Marianne. His voice was now quiet.

"We want you to call the Russian president... and tell him that the United States is planning to attack his country in its home soil."

A few seconds of silence followed, as Marianne stared with her jaw half-open.

"You're mad." The words came as a bare whisper.

Chuckles rode through the room from the rest of the men. The man in front continued to look at her, nothing changed in his expression.

Marianne felt her pulse speed up. She understood what was going on. A sense of shock and anxiety came surging up within her.

"You want me to help you plunge the world into anarchy?" she said softly. She shook her head. "I won't do it."

The men stood as they were, but a quiet menace crept into their expressions.

"Co-operate with us, Madam Marianne." said the man in front, his arms folded. "Because you know you don't have much of a choice."

A rush of anger arose within Marianne, blocking out her fear. "I do... I would rather die."

The men remained where they were, all of them looking at her. The man in front of her stood with his arms folded. He was quietly staring down at her for many long seconds, his face expression-less.

And then, with a deep breath, he turned and walked back down the hall. The rest of the men slowly followed, leaving Marianne sitting tied as she was.

As they reached the exit, the man who had been speaking to her paused and glanced back. His voice carried across the hall.

"Even if you choose not to co-operate with us, Marianne... we will still find a way to have what we want."

With that, he disappeared through the door, along with the rest of the men. The lights turned back off, and darkness flooded the room once more.

Marianne felt a sudden, seething fear. But now, it was not the fear for her life or this situation she was in... It was more.

She realised that there was a force that was working to sink the globe back into war... The thought of it made chills slide down her spine. Marianne sat there in the silence, breathing slowly.

_____________

April and Ron walked down the ramp slowly. Around them was a wide grass field, with a calm lake far by the right. They had arrived at Belgium, close to the border with France. The journey had taken less than three hours, far lesser than what a normal flight would have taken.

Standing at the bottom of the ramp, the two of them gazed at the scene surrounding them. A line of trees could be seen at the end of the grass field. They knew that this region didn't have anyone living nearby for miles.

Ron slung his bag around his back, while April held hers between her hands.

"Well, let's get going." said April. And the two of them trotted forward across the vast grass field. They knew that they would be reaching a small town in a half hour's walk. From there, they would take a bus across the border into Paris.

## ~

Eyra stood inside of the dark chamber in this building that was home to the brotherhood.

His mind was murky and disturbed. The events of the past few hours had left him slightly annoyed.

Closing off the thought, he turned and faced the window outside.

Wisps of green dangled about in the air. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and the incense of the green vapour flowed into his lungs. A fresh sensation awakened within him.

Eyra stood there, looking out of the window through the shifting sands.

A serene feeling slowly moved over his thoughts. Through the clarity and the peace, Eyra felt himself connect to the long-buried, dark corners of his mind.

Memories of the past... from decades back.

Eyra closed his eyes and inhaled deep again. The fresh smell of the vapour trickled into him, and the wide abyss within him slowly stirred.

As he opened his eyes, he felt images from another world flash before him.

A twenty-one year old Eyra sat in a large truck. Dozens of other uniformed men were here along with him, all of them wearing uniforms and holding weapons. They were members of the Syrian army... and they were embarking on a major combat operation against a powerful insurgency.

Eyra was standing where he was, back in the present. A deep silence had settled around him. Seconds passed as he continued to gaze out of the window.

Eyra was in the middle of a fierce gun-battle inside of a building. Hiding behind a pillar, he fired at the militants across the place. The air was bombarded with the sound of intense gunfire. Eyra felt a bullet pierce his shoulder. His mouth open in a loud scream, he sank to the ground...

Eyra opened his eyes, breathing deep.

The scent of the green vapour touched his breath every now and then, spreading warmth into his system.

It happened more than fifty years ago... and it changed him completely.

Eyra felt his fists tighten as he kept his hands behind his back.

It was from the wreckage of his life, so many years back, that something new and powerful arose. And it had shaped him, laying the path to where he was now.

Out of chaos comes order.

Years ago

A group of five men walked down a long desert. All of them were wearing black cloaks and their faces were covered in scarfs, leaving only a small strip for their eyes. Their gaze shared the same fierce gleam as they made their way down the desert quietly.

The five of them were together carrying a large object wrapped in a white cloth. It was covered all the way, so that nothing was visible of what lay within it.

The men walked for a long time before stopping and throwing the white bag on the desert floor. They stood there for a second, all of them quietly looking down at it. Then, turning over, the men nodded at each other... and they made their way back the way they had come.

The body in the bag was drifting between life and death...

Eyra could feel the heat of the desert eat into his already depleted soul. He slowly unwrapped the cloth covering him and looked down the lifeless lands. The sand dunes flowed on for as long as he could see. Mirages flickered in the distance.

A fading sensation was in Eyra's mind. His vision blurred and he lay there, completely still... waiting to die.

After being hit during the gunfight, Eyra had been taken by the insurgents.

For almost a week now, they kept him in their possession and tortured him. Physically, mentally. Through all means that they could think of. For one week, they broke him day after day, attempting to extract every bit of information that they could about the Syrian government and military.

After sucking all of it out of him, they decided to dispose of him.

Eyra felt the wounds dig into his soul, as he lay there. He had a couple broken bones. He could feel dried wounds all over his body.

For a week now, he had craved any mode of escape. Even death. And now, it seems that life had granted it to him.

His helplessness and powerlessness turned to bliss as he lay there. Waiting for it to end.

Many minutes passed, as his thoughts slowly hovered in and out of consciousness.

Suddenly, the shuffling of feet came from nearby. The noise was slow and steady, with a calm rhythm to it over the desert's silence.

Feeling pain burn in his neck, Eyra slowly looked around. From over the sand dune, a short man wearing a brown cloak appeared.

He paused, his serene eyes halting over Eyra. The man slowly descended towards where he lay, broken and helpless.

Bending down over him, the man studied Eyra with his calm eyes. There was a deep aura of peace that the man had around him. His hands gently traced the wounds running over Eyra's skin, examining them. Nothing changed in his expression, but his eyes met Eyra's, and it was clear that he knew what Eyra had been through.

"You have been through pain, my child." he said, a soft and tender tone in his voice. "Let me help you release it."

As Eyra lay there, watching, the man rose and walked over to the other end of his body. Holding him by his feet, the man dragged Eyra across the desert with him.

_____________

The apartment was small and dimly lit. The hall was large enough for just one person. Eyra was sitting on a group of pillows, while the man sat on the floor nearby him.

There were small bowls filled with a black material. A tender green vapour emitted from the bowls, spreading a strange aroma over the room.

It had been a month since the mystic healer had brought Eyra to his house here. It was somewhere near the border, far from any area with people. He was one of the last of his kind. A remnant of a far earlier, more primordial tradition.

Over the past month, the man had used some of his ancient knowledge to cure Eyra. He had used a variety of herbs, potions and numerous other substances, applying them on Eyra to stitch together some of the most grievous wounds. He was sitting here now, almost completely healed. All his bones were now healed, and all the scars were gone.

But Eyra knew that the inner scars would never go... He stared across the wall, feeling like a completely different person. It felt to him as though he had seen things that the rest of humanity was oblivious to.

He had seen the truth... the real darkness behind the human race.

And he knew that would always haunt him. Always reside within him.

The silence passed for many minutes.

Eyra slowly looked at the man beside him.

"Master healer, I... can't thank you enough." he said. "I was close to death. You saved me, and healed me completely."

The man slowly turned his head, the stillness of his gaze seeping into Eyra as well.

"I did not heal you," he said in his slow calm voice. "You healed yourself. It is the nature of wounds to heal. I merely facilitated it."

"How can I ever repay you?" Eyra asked, feeling indebted to the man.

The mystic was quiet for a long time, continuing in his meditative posture.

He picked up a bowl on the floor beside him. The black ash-like material leaked green fumes into the air as he stared into it.

"This ancient herbal art carries within it powers drawn from times of old. A mystical tradition that the world has forgotten and a power that nothing of today's medicines could possibly replicate."

Sitting across, Eyra listened quietly.

The healer spent many seconds gazing down at the black ash in the bowl. Strands of green vapour slipped into the air quietly. The healer spoke in a softer voice without lifting his gaze.

"Mankind has been lost." he said. "For ages now, they have wandered off their paths... drifting aimlessly like a traveller in an endless desert."

He raised his eyes and looked at Eyra. "A man lost in a daydream can only be recovered with a hard blow to the head... And the same applies for humanity today."

The healer stretched his hands slowly, offering the bowl to Eyra.

Clasping the bowl with both hands, Eyra stared down at the ash-black contents for a second. The green vapour rose into the air in thin streams. He took a deep breath, feeling the incense of the vapour flow into his system.

Immediately, a powerful, refreshing feeling cleansed him from within. His mind grew clearer, and agitations rested.

The effect was strong.

"I am passing to you an ancient and powerful herbal secret." he told Eyra as he held the bowl. "It cured and repaired your body from the most grievous ailments, and it holds the power to make men stronger, faster and greater in their capacities.

"The potion brings calm and focus to the mind. And calm and focus alone grant man access to the greater powers resting within him." The healer's warm eyes were struck with a dab of seriousness. "Use this as a tool in bringing order to this world. You have glimpsed the true evil in men's hearts. It is now upon you to guide humanity back from the depths... at any cost."

The words seemed to hang in the vapour-cut air for a moment. Eyra was still staring at the ash-like material in the bowl. The clouds in his mind cleared slowly, and a new light began to dawn.

A new fire.

Eyra's gaze wafted through the small hut, feeling his vision sharpened under the effect of the potion. He noticed a small marble stone lying against the wall by the corner. Its smooth surface was etched with a symbol. One Eyra had never seen before, and yet felt a sudden drawing connection to...

"It's called the Eye of Horus," the master healer said calmly, seeming to have screened Eyra's thoughts without even looking at him. "It is an ancient and powerful symbol that permeated the history of these lands."

The healer now gazed at Eyra. "It represents the evolution of humanity... The birth of a new age."

Eyra placed the bowl down in front of him and lifted his eyes to meet the healer's. The chaos he had experienced suddenly came together in harmony, directing him towards his future. Towards his purpose.

A flame of resolve stronger than he had felt anytime before was ignited within him.

He gave a gentle bow to the man who had saved his life.

"I vow to you, your efforts in saving my life would be amplified a thousand fold in its impact on the world. I will change humanity... and accomplish what you've asked."

The present

The birth of a new age.

Eyra felt the memories wash through him as he stood there before the window. That day, as he sat with the man in that small apartment, a new mission had been ignited.

He had just glimpsed the true darkness that resided in the corners of men's heart. Years earlier to that, when he had joined the army, he was driven by a proud goal to destroy evil and free humanity. But that experience had changed everything. It exposed him to a very ugly truth.

Humanity was inherently evil... inherently cruel, brutal. Destructive. For as long as they had existed, there had been violence and brutality. And for as long as they continued to remain on this planet, there would continue to be chaos.

That day, as he sat there in the healer's house, reflecting on what he had heard, Eyra had come to a realisation. For as long as men were allowed to thrive under freedom, this world would not have peace.

There was only one path to order. Mankind needed to surrender control. And allow a greater force to guide them.

Eyra breathed in the fragrance floating about him, from the green fumes.

Bring humanity from the depths... at any cost.

Decades ago, he had set out on this goal to bring order to the world. To destroy all that was wrong with humanity, and to force them into the right path.

And so, he had begun to build this great brotherhood. They would be a foundation for the change that he wanted to bring in the world. Together, they had set out to tear down the structures that controlled this planet, and to bring true guidance to the world.

He had used this potion that the healer had given him to empower this brotherhood. To give them strength and clarity, so that they could be better at what they did.

And together, over decades of training, they had risen to become a powerful force in this planet. Soon, they would accomplish what they had set out to do.

Heaving a deep breath, Eyra turned from the window and strode off.

## ~

Javiere, the head of the French police department, was standing in his room in office. He had a phone pressed to his ear, listening with a silent look on his face.

On the other side of the line, Falon, the head of the CIA, was speaking to him.

"We have reason to believe that a criminal from our country, an ex-CIA operative, is somewhere around your country. She's travelled there on a jet that belonged to us, one which we can track. From what we can gather, she must be travelling into France... or already be inside of it."

Javiere nodded as he listened, frowning.

Falon waited for a long moment, and then continued. "There's another, more important thing. We've gathered a lot of information over the past few hours... and we're able to conclude that the person we're talking about isn't there alone. She's with someone far more dangerous. He's a most wanted criminal in the blacklists of Interpol and several other countries, including your own."

Javiere could feel a serious expression settle over his face.

"His name is Ron Andris, and we'll have both of their information sent to you right away so you can put yourselves on guard."

Javiere nodded. "The information that you've passed is truly critical, and we're very grateful that you brought it to us."

"No problem." replied Falon. "Just make sure that you put the entire country on a state of alert, and increase security and surveillance all over."

"We'll do just that." Javiere said, feeling a new seriousness channel his thoughts. "Thanks again, boss."

"Just doing my job, Javiere. Have a good day." With that, Falon disconnected the call.

Javiere lowered the phone, feeling the frown on his face as he looked ahead.

_____________

The bus that April and Ron had taken had crossed into France and reached Paris in an estimated three hours. The two of them had gotten off somewhere at the outskirts of the city. They were now making their way forth through foot. Ron had a clear picture of where he had hidden the suitcase, and how he needed to get there.

Paris's streets were wide and on both sides, a row of buildings was laid in a tight-spaced manner. The design of the buildings reflected a style of elegance and richness. Across the street on the right was a row of two-storied apartments. Ron could see a few people standing by the balcony.

It was now mid-day, and streams of people walked down the pavement along with them. Most of them were dressed casual, while some were wearing suits and ties as they rushed between work. They could hear chatter in rapid, confident French all around them. Some were speaking English with a heavy accent.

"How far have we got from here?" asked April.

"We've gotta get to the centre of the city." answered Ron.

April considered the information. "That's a couple dozen miles from here, I think?"

"Yeah."

April nodded to herself.

Ron frowned, taking a second to recall the exact address. "The exact location is Road No. 5, Roseau Avenue."

"Right." April said. "You do remember the exact way there, right?"

"Perfectly."

On the street by the right, they saw vehicles drive through freely, devoid of traffic. The lane they were in merged with a larger street at the end, and they turned right into it.

Across the street was a large lake, with benches right before on the pavement. Crowds of people hung by the pavement, watching the lake and talking among themselves.

Ron was thinking over the task at hand. His mind drifted to the scene, almost a year ago, when he had rushed here over the plane with the most valuable object in the world. He had been in a bad condition... confused, traumatised and in disbelief. His life had turned over completely.

As he walked down the same city now, almost a year later, Ron felt resolve and determination within him. He was here to finish what he had stared back then, when he had made the choice to right something he had done wrong...

Drawing in a deep breath, he strode down the road alongside April as they made their way to the centre of the city.

_____________

The small room had a dozen or so men, most of them standing behind and watching. Sitting at front, before a row of computers, were the organisation's top analysts.

Javiere monitored the analysts, watching as they hurriedly worked to bring results...

Behind him, the senior leaders of French intelligence, along with the French law enforcement were present. All of them were waiting.

"We've searched all of the cameras in the southwest of the city," one of the analysts said in French. "And the two of them are not there. We did a face-match according to the photographs provided by the CIA."

"Okay, what about the other regions?" asked Javiere, strolling down the row of computers as he studied each of them. They were all showcasing scenes from different security cameras all over the city. The analysts were struggling to co-ordinate data from all of the cameras to locate the two criminals who had entered their city.

"Sir, we've got something." said a woman sitting by the corner.

All attention in the room turned to her.

Walking upto where she sat, Javiere slowly bent before her computer.

Displayed on the screen was a video feed from a camera somewhere in the city.

A small stream of people were walking down a pavement... and in between them, two familiar faces. Javiere could recognise them from the photos provided by the CIA. On the right was a brown-haired, thin looking young man. Ron Andris. And striding along beside him was a scarlet-haired young woman. Javiere guessed that she must be the CIA lady who the Americans were looking for.

The camera was stationed just beneath a street-lamp, showcasing the people on the pavement from a slightly elevated position.

"Wait," said Javiere. "We need to be sure it's them. Let's see if they're speaking French or English ... and listen to their accent."

The video feed captured them as they slowly walked past.

"That's a couple miles from here, I think." said the girl, speaking English in a strong American accent.

"Yeah," answered the boy, also in American English. "The exact location is Road No. 5, Roseau Avenue."

Javiere straightened up instantly. "It's them. We've found them."

He turned over to the group of men waiting behind him. "Send the information immediately to every police base in the city," He could feel the urgency piercing his voice. "I want a large police force to mobilise and surround the entire district where this video was taken from. They couldn't have gotten far, but we need the police to move right away if we want to corner them. Go, now!"

Without wasting a moment, the leaders of the police department rushed into action...

_____________

For about five minutes, April and Ron were making their way down the streets. They were now on the sidewalks of a main road, with robust buildings dominating the scene on either side. A few offices could be seen lined by the streets, large glass-covered structures that rose over the others.

The traffic was heavier on this street, so that the constant rush of vehicles and growling engines blocked out everything else.

Billboards and large banners animated the long stretch of road. A variety of different brands were showcased, from fashion brands such as Levis and Forever 21 to real estate corporations, online websites and many more businesses...

A mixture of colours dressed the streets as pedestrians streamed down on both sides, most of them chattering merrily.

The city bustled with activity... with life.

Ron couldn't help but consider the inherent danger that all of this was in at the moment.

The precariousness of their current situation.

If the brotherhood won, if they had their way, there would be nothing to save them. Ron even doubted that the toxins that some biochemical companies were developing to dispel radioactivity from the air would redeem their planet.

"This road goes all the way upto the next district," he told April. "And from there, we'd be able to catch a metro or something."

April nodded.

As they continued walking, the sound of sirens came from behind... Ron halted, turning around. Racing forward from the back of the large road came a pack of police vehicles. He turned to April, whose eyes were wide.

The sound of sirens caught them from the right as well. They looked to a lane between two buildings across the road on the right... and police vehicles could be seen rushing out as well.

"God," whispered April. "They've found us."

Ron gave a sweeping look around him. He spotted a mall just ahead in the line of buildings.

"Time to go." he said, gesturing to April, and the two of them sprinted down the pavement. Dodging everyone in their way.

As they leapt towards the entrance of the mall, they could feel the police vehicles come to a stop further down the street. Loud voices yelled at them, commanding them to stop.

Without bothering to look back, the two of them dashed towards the entrance of the mall. Gunshots rang out from behind them, shattering the calm. At once, screams split the air as the crowds on the pavement dove to the ground or rushed to safety. Panic and confusion racked the scene.

Pulse racing, April and Ron rushed through the entrance of the mall, keeping themselves at peak speed. The large foyer of the mall had packs of people lingering all over, crowds blocking their way.

Ron glanced back, and saw a group of police officers barge into the mall. All of them were wearing blue uniforms and carrying guns.

Turning back, Ron pushed himself faster through the crowded floor even as loud voices called from behind. A few gunshots rang out here as well, and screams pierced the air as the crowds rushed to the sides.

Keeping their heads down, April and Ron turned into a hallway by the right and hurtled forward. They could feel the stomping feet approach the hallway from behind them...

_____________

Javiere rested his head by the wall as he stood there. He was in the same room, with analysts sitting in front. The other chief figures from the police department were present as well, all of them keeping track of the situation that was developing.

Javiere felt a weary feeling press upon him. He had been quite busy over the past few days, and this sudden crucial situation had been completely unexpected. Sighing quietly to himself, he walked out of the room and down through the long hallway. He pushed the door of the washroom at the end of the hall, and walked inside.

Bending down before the washbasins, he pulled the tap open and allowed water to gush out. Placing his hand on the mirror on the wall, he stood there, watching a pool of water gather in the basin. And then, scooping up some of the cool liquid with both hands, he splashed it against his face. The sensation felt refreshing. Looking down at the basin, he scooped another cup of water and splashed it against his face.

He spent a minute or so there, washing his face until the dull feeling was gone.

Taking a deep breath, he closed the tap and looked up at the mirror.

Standing right behind him was a man in a black coat, with a strange eye-shaped tattoo on his right wrist.

Javiere whirled around, his hand reaching for his gun. The man moved faster than normal, smashing Javiere's head against the basin. The French police chief slid to the ground, groaning in pain. His head seemed to swirl at the force of the blow.

As he opened his eyes, he saw the man in the black coat bending down towards him.

He gripped the front of Javiere's shirt, pulling himself closer to the police chief.

"Who the hell are you?" demanded Javiere, speaking in English. "What do you want?"

The man reached inside his coat pocket and produced a gun, which he levelled at Javiere's face. "I want you to use the public cameras you've got in this city to find out where those two criminals were attempting to go."

"What?" Javiere struggled to focus, his hand rubbing his head.

"Ron Andris and that other girl!" the man growled. "They came here to reach a particular place in this city. Tell me where they're heading!"

He cocked the gun, aiming for Javiere's head.

Javiere fought through panic and confusion. He squinted for a moment. "Road No. 5, Roseau Avenue. That's where they wanted to go."

The man's eyes narrowed, and a gleam leapt to it. "So that's where the suitcase's hidden." he said softly.

"Who are you?" asked Javiere, his heart racing.

After a second of thought, the man looked at Javiere. "You're the commander of the city's police forces."

"So what?"

The man smiled. "I want you to send a large force of your men to this exact location – Road No. 5, Roseau Avenue. There's something hidden over there. A silver suitcase. I want you to send a large batch of cops to find it, and to bring it back here."

Javiere's eyes focussed on the gun hovering inches before his face. He then looked at the man and gave a slow nod. He brought out his phone from his pocket, and made the call.

_____________

A group of vehicles came roaring out of a police station far away. The cars went surging down the road, their sirens blaring. The officers in the vehicles had just been given a task by their chief.

They were now on their way to Road No. 5, Roseau Avenue to find a small suitcase that had been hidden there, and to take it back to the headquarters.

## ~

Ron and April were running down a corridor on the ground floor. The sound of feet stomping carried behind them, and Ron saw the police-men appear from a turn in the corridor.

April and Ron swerved into a hallway that came by the right and stormed down it. An exit door awaited at the end. Just as the police barged into the hallway from behind, the two of them smashed through the door into the street outside. They were at a large junction, with large packs of crowds moving through the place.

A group of police vehicles awaited on the other side of the street. As Ron and April stood there, the men aimed their weapons.

April and Ron ducked their heads and pushed their way through the crowds. The air erupted in gunfire and panic swept through the crowded junction. Ron and April shielded themselves behind the mass of people that rushed out of the way.

Behind them, the cops chasing them from the mall exited and looked about. Ron and April were now many feet down the road, and had hid themselves behind an empty taxi.

Chaos had gripped the entire junction, as the crowds ran for cover. The police standing in the junction aimed their guns and began firing towards them.

Bullets crashed into the taxi's metallic skin and windscreen. The window at the back exploded, sending shards of glass around where April and Ron were.

The two of them had already gotten their weapons out from their bags. Ron leaned out and shot at the officers. The sound of his assault rifle blasted in the air as it showered bullets towards the enemy.

Standing by their cars, the officers took cover. The cops who had exited from the mall leapt behind vehicles right in front of them. Dust-clouds burst about their vehicles, and their windows shattered. April joined in, leaning out from the other side to shoot. The cars parked down the road took the hail of bullets, and sparks erupted as the bullets struck the firm metal skin. The cops responded by leaning out from the side and firing back at them.

April and Ron ducked behind the taxi again. The street and pavement on either side took the storm of bullets, and plumes of dust emerged where the bullets hit.

They knew that they were outnumbered...

Gunfire came from the junction, where the pack of cops hid behind their vehicles. The group of officers ducking behind the vehicles in front of the street joined in. A flood of bullets hit the taxi.

Ron leaned out and fired a few short rounds, before turning back in again. The street just beside him was struck by bullets, spraying bits of concrete around.

Ron sent a glance back. The cops in front of the street were moving forward, while their comrades back at the junction gave them cover. He sent another few shots at them, but they ducked behind a large SUV in front. With the two of them cornered, the officers at the junction moved forward swiftly.

Ron and April kept cover behind the taxi, knowing that the cops were advancing. The two of them slid out and sent a few feeble shots at the officers, but it made no effect. Police gunfire pounded the street and pavement right beside them, and they had very little space to retaliate.

Within a few seconds, the police had surrounded Ron and April, standing in front and all around them. More than a dozen guns pointed at the where the two of them sat behind the taxi.

The two of them looked up at the uniformed men in helplessness. Throwing their weapons to the ground, they raised their hands in surrender.

## ~

Javiere walked through the hall at the ground floor of the police headquarters. The man in the black coat came walking a few feet behind him. Sweat glistened at the back of Javiere's neck.

A bomb was strapped beneath his shirt. He glanced back and saw the man in the black coat give him a casual grin. Held in his right hand was the trigger, with his thumb just an inch over it.

If Javiere did anything that he shouldn't, the man would press the trigger and blow him up. Javiere walked down the hall of the police headquarters, a terrorist walking right behind him... totally helpless. He was held hostage.

The two of them stood in the hall in silence, with Javiere in front and the man waiting a few feet behind. They were facing the glass wall at the front of the hall, with a sliding glass door at the centre. Some minutes passed, before they heard the sound of cars approaching.

A group of police cars came to a halt outside. The officers exited the cars and marched into the hall. One of them was carrying a small silver suitcase...

Javiere stood where he was, watching the men march towards him. Unable to do anything, he took the suitcase that officers handed to him. Turning around, he slowly walked over to the man in the black coat, and gave the suitcase to him.

The man stood there, looking at the silver case over the silence. There was a look of quiet triumph in his eyes as he gazed at the object.

He then raised his eyes and looked at the police chief.

Through the silence, they heard the sound of police cars approaching again. Javiere turned over, as did the rest of the officers.

A fresh pack of police cars came to a halt outside. The doors opened, and uniformed officers emerged along with a handcuffed man and woman. The cops walked through the glass door, with Ron and April amidst them.

As they entered the building, Ron and April froze... Their eyes were fixated ahead of them, at the man in the black coat with the silver suitcase in his hands.

The man stared back at them. Over the quiet moment, as they stood frozen with their eyes locked, recognition passed between the two sides.

In a second, Ron had pulled his sword out with both hands and ripped his handcuffs through the blade. He grabbed the gun of the officer beside him.

The brotherhood's agent fired across the hall, sending an indiscriminate wave of shots at them. The police in the hall ducked to the ground, as confusion swept over them.

Carrying the suitcase, the man turned and sprinted towards the other end of the hall.

By the time the cops rose from the floor, Ron and April were already tearing through the place behind the man with the suitcase. Reaching the end of the large hall, the man hurled himself out the window. His body crashed through the glass and vanished.

As Ron and April neared the window, the police behind them were yelling and rushing towards them. Without sparing a second's thought, the two of them leapt out of the window, landing on the street outside.

Straightening up, they looked down the road. The man had just entered a car parked in front. The vehicle's engine roared to life. Its tyres screeched as it went lurching forward through the road.

Ron's eyes zipped up and down the road. He saw a bike parked just behind them, and looked at April. She handed him a small pin. Sprinting over to the bike, the two of them broke its lock with the pin, and then climbed over it. The engine growled to life and the vehicle shot down the street.

As the machine cruised down the road, a current of air gushed at them from in front. In front of them, the car the man was in vanished into a left turn. As the bike reached the turn, Ron let go of the throttle, letting the vehicle slide over the curve effortlessly.

The man's car could be seen many feet ahead of them. Their slender bike weaved in and out of the stream of traffic, moving closer to him.

The man leaned out of his window and fired at them. Ron sent the bike sideways, just missing the spray of bullets. April raised her gun and shot back at him, putting holes in his rear window.

The car slowed down and went drifting into a lane by the right. Smoke issued from the tyres.

"Darn," cursed Ron, applying the brakes. The bike leaned sideways as it carried into the lane, just edging past the sidewalk.

The man leaned out of the window and fired at them once more. They could hear screams emanate from people in the sidewalk as they dropped to the ground in terror. Ron allowed the bike to effortlessly dodge the stream of bullets, while April shot back at the man. A bullet hit one of the rear lamps, which exploded in shards of glass. The lane they were on was nearing an intersection, and Ron braced himself to turn either way.

The car in front was speeding forward towards the intersection. In a sudden move, the vehicle broke speed, and then went sailing into the right. Ron leaned sideways as he carried the bike along with him, gritting his teeth.

The car was gaining speed slowly on the clear road.

"We've gotta end this." Ron said.

April raised her gun and waited for a second. She fired a single bullet, and the car's left tyre exploded. Lunging forward at high speed, the vehicle flipped over and went soaring into the air.

"God," Breathless, Ron broke the bike, trying to avoid the vehicle in front.

The man's car crashed to the ground loudly, sending shards of glass and debris flying into the surroundings. The speed in which it had been travelling sent it rolling over the asphalt floor for a few feet before coming to a halt.

Ron brought the bike to a stop a few feet in front of the man. All around them, people were gaping towards the car crash. The two of them jumped off the bike and hurried upto the devastated vehicle. Ron wrenched the door open. The man was sitting on the driver's seat, a thread of blood running down his face. There was a swollen patch on his forehead, and he seemed ready to collapse. Lying beside him was the suitcase, and it was open. At the centre of the case was a small slot for a pendrive, which was empty.

The man's face cracked with a smile, as he slowly raised his hand to show an iPad he was holding. The pendrive that he had taken from the suitcase was attached to the iPad... A message flashed on the iPad's screen:

"File transfer complete."

Ron's eyes slowly moved back to the man, who was now laughing softly.

"You're too late." he croaked. "I've already sent the contents of the pendrive to Eyra."

With that, he slumped forward, his head hitting the steering wheel.

Ron and April looked at each other, their faces mirroring the same disbelief. They could hear sirens blaring somewhere at the distance... they didn't have much time.

Bending into the vehicle, Ron snatched the pendrive from the man's phone. Then, he pulled the man's body out of the driver's seat and slung it over his shoulder.

And with that, the two of them went bolting down the road.

_____________

The two of them knew they had to get off the streets if they wanted to survive. Reaching a lonesome alleyway, they had opened a manhole and climbed into the sewer below them. They knew it was where they were safest right now.

They were now walking down a wide tunnel beneath the city, with a small stream of water passing by their feet. A putrid stench hung in the air. Ron and April slowly moved through the dimly lit place, with the body of the unconscious man slung over Ron's shoulder.

Silence pervaded in the air, broken only by the sound of trickling water by their feet.

"We came so close," April sighed. "but we lost it."

Ron looked sideways at her. "Not wholly. The purpose of us getting the suitcase wasn't just to prevent Eyra from having it. It was also so we could find out what their plan was. The plan which was held guarded inside." He raised the pendrive that they had taken from the car. "And we now can."

The two of them continued down the large tunnel for a few minutes, walking past openings that led to other tunnels.

"So what now?" asked April, looking at him.

Ron glanced up at the roof. They knew that a few metres above this was a city in lockdown. An intense manhunt would be going underway for them... the two most wanted criminals in the country right now.

"We're gonna have to lie low, whatever we do." Ron scowled as he spoke. "But we really can't remain here without moving for too long either. We're bound to get caught."

"Yeah." agreed April.

"We'll stay here and keep ourselves hidden for a little while," Ron said. "And then get out and start to move again."

April nodded her approval. "We'll have to see where we're heading, as we walk down here. We'll try getting to the outskirts from down here, and then emerge there. There's probably going to be a lesser security presence over there."

She brought out her phone and activated a mapping application that allowed them to know their position in the map of the city. April used the device to guide them through the network of tunnels, as they moved away from the heart of the city to the outer region.

## ~

Somewhere far away, a boat was rushing through a vast sea. It was carrying agents of the brotherhood of Irus.

River stood by the railing, his eyes narrowed as he peered ahead. A thin cloud of fog obscured sight at the distance. There were calm waters here in Russian territory.

Standing behind River were four others from the crew. All of them were facing the direction he was.

They had reached their destination. They were almost there.

As River gazed ahead, a sense of triumph lit his mind. Whatever the batch of men were now going to do would have been impossible for ordinary men. But not for them.

The group of men gazed across the misty sea, waiting for their destination to appear.

A few minutes later, they could see something through the veil of mist. River was frowning as he peered through it.

Their boat went racing forward through the mists, and clarity slowly built in the scene in front.

A massive warship was parked in the middle of the sea. River's lips creased in a smile. Everything will be changed.

This warship was Russia's single most important one. It was currently carrying SkyBlazer, the most powerful thermonuclear weapon on this planet.

The brotherhood had now found it.

A ripple of excitement passed through the men behind as their sights met the ship.

This location of the vessel had been stored in a disc held with a Russian intelligence officer. Hours ago, one of their agents, Raze, had procured that disc from him.

River closed his eyes and drew in a long, deep breath. The chilly sensation in the air flowed into him, sending a bristle of energy through him.

Exhaling slowly, River opened his eyes and turned around.

"Bring out the whole crew." he told the men behind. "Tell them we're here."

The man nodded and walked off.

A few seconds later, a group of two dozen men stood behind him. All of them were carrying fully loaded weapons, and some of them had long sabers attached to their backs. A sense of powerful resolve bound the men together as they stood there, watching their boat draw closer to the vast warship.

"Long live the brotherhood." said River, smiling.

The pack of men behind him echoed him loudly, raising their weapons.

"Long live the brotherhood!"

River reached into a bag on the floor and brought out a powerful assault rifle. "It's time to get to work."

In a few seconds, the small boat halted by the skirts of the massive warship. Five of the men brought out a long, strange looking gun and aimed at the top of the warship.

As he squeezed the trigger, a long rope shot into the air. Three pointed blades were present at its tip, and as it reached the top, the blades clutched the wall automatically.

River looked about the group of armed men as they stood there, ready.

"Let's go, come on." River said, sending the men up before him. One by one, the men climbed up the rope. They caught hold of it with both hands and went dashing up in a quick jog. River ascended the rope after all of them had. By the time he had reached the top, the men had already dealt with a large pack of soldiers in the ship who had apparently attacked them. The men were lying groaning on the floor, clutching their shoulders or knees where they were shot. Loud alarms rang through the vast place, sending an alert to everyone that they were under attack.

But River knew that nothing could save them now...

The group of lethal warriors spread over the vast ship. All of them heading in a different direction.

Within half an hour, they had taken down every security personnel in the ship. The disarmed and restrained Russian men were all hounded and locked up in a large room in the ship.

River and the rest of his men were now gathering at the front of the ship. Making their way towards a special room in the premise.

They were striding as one down the vast, levelled floor of the ship. And in a few minutes, they had reached a large dark room with a group of screens at the front. They flicked on the lights. The room had a control panel at the front, and numerous laptops attached to the desk. Branded on the wall were guidelines in deep red colour that would catch anyone's attention as they entered the room.

"This is the room with the controls to the weapon." said River. "The most powerful seat of command in this planet."

This was the task that the brotherhood had sent them for. To take control of the most powerful nuclear weapon on this planet.

And now, they had it...

Now, the entire game was changed.

## ~

The car's engine rumbled as it drove through the roads. Sitting on the front seats were Ron and April, and lying at the back was the unconscious guy who worked for the brotherhood.

The two of them had snuck out of the sewers some time back, into a quiet district far from the city-centre. Without wasting anytime, they had broken into the first car they found nearby, and quickly driven off...

After driving for more than two hours, they reached the outskirts of Metz, a town close to the border with Germany. Night time had fallen, and a serene quiet embraced the entire place.

"France is no longer safe for us." said Ron. "We'd better cross the border into Germany before they alert the EU or Interpol."

"What're we gonna do with this guy?" April asked, gesturing to the man behind them.

His eyes on the road ahead as he drove, Ron said, "Disarmed and helpless, he's a great asset. We could use him to get more information out about our enemies. When we get to safety across the border, we'll interrogate him to extract everything he knows."

They drove down the empty streets with occasional cars and scarce groups of people on the pavements. A faint nervousness remained in the air. They knew that the French authorities were still on alert and looking for them intensely. But they kept themselves composed and drove forth, hoping to evade ill luck.

"We've got the pendrive," said April. "We can now know what it is that these guys are planning. What their grand master-scheme is."

"Yeah," Ron nodded. "As soon as we get out of this country, we'll take a look into that."

_____________

They escaped again. Falon thought, feeling mildly irritated. He sat in front of the small table in the meeting room. Other top executives of the agency were seated about it. They were here to discuss the top issue that Falon had at hand – their search for Ron and his new accomplice, April.

"It's unbelievable that they got away even after we informed the French authorities." said Lenon, one of the men sitting by the table.

Falon sat straight on the chair, placing an arm on the table.

"We need to strengthen our search now." he said, looking about the table. "I want us to expand our reach, and connect with all agencies that we know around the world. We need to get the maximum information and intelligence about the two of them. This would make our task easier."

The men about the table nodded.

"We'll get that done."

Falon added, "We also need to be prepared to deploy our agents anywhere around the world in case the two of them are found."

The men about the table nodded once more.

"We'll stay ready." one of them said.

Falon gathered the files in front of him.

"Sir," said McKane, one of the executives sitting opposite to him. "I can't help but wonder why we're devoting so much of our energy on two thieves, at a time when we're under more pressure than ever."

Falon halted and looked up. His eyes steadied over those of McKane, and a moment of silence drifted past them.

"Just follow orders." Falon replied flatly.

With that, he gathered his files and walked out of the room. The others slowly followed.

## ~

It took less than an hour for the car to reach the border and enter Germany.

The vehicle was now moving down the serene roads of a town in the country. April and Ron could feel a small relief in the air now that they were off the radar of the French authorities. They knew they weren't wholly safe anywhere, but the risk of getting caught was lower here than it was in France.

April was now plugging the pendrive into her iPod and trying to access the top secret content that the brotherhood had stored within it. One of the most important things at hand now, was finding out what the secret group was planning in the broader picture.

April spent a few moments reading whatever she saw in the files stored in the pendrive.

"Found anything?" asked Ron.

She nodded slowly, appearing absorbed in whatever she saw on screen.

"Found everything." she said.

Ron continued driving through the quiet streets of Germany. They all about were wide and clean, with greenery surrounding them. The buildings were lined in an organised manner on the sides of the street, with large amounts of space between them. It was early morning and the roads were most deserted. Occasional vehicles passed by, and rare instances of people. Ron spotted a group of early joggers on the sidewalk by the right.

April finally lowered the iPod and looked up. Her face was unreadable, but Ron couldn't help but sense a bit of shock within her.

"What is it?" he asked, glancing at her. "What's their plan?"

She took a deep, calming breath. "You mentioned that their ultimate goal was to take complete control."

"Yeah, that's what they want."

"A nuclear war provides the right ground for them to have just that." April explained, frowning as she looked ahead.

"How?"

"You're aware that there are bio-tech companies formulating compounds to fight radioactivity in the event of a nuclear war?" April asked, continuing as she saw him nod: "Among those corporations, there's a leading company called Energize. They're working for the brotherhood. They claim to be formulating a compound which can repair the atmosphere if a nuclear war ever happens. One that needs to be released into the air to do this job."

April gave a moment of pause.

"But this compound that the company is formulating also comes with a secret special characteristic." She turned to him. "It's designed to effectively turn the human race into slaves for the brotherhood. It can alter the bio-chemical composition of everyone who breathes it in. And it weakens them physically, mentally and intellectually. The compound has the capacity to subvert people and undermine their will to fight back. Once the compound's released in a large scale, the entire human race would be biochemically altered. Our mental resources would be diminished and destroyed, making us all easier to control through brute force." The quiet alarm in her voice grew deeper. "The brotherhood are immune from this compound because of a particular potion that they've been exposed to and inhaling for years now."

Ron felt as though something had hit his head from behind. He slowed the car down, bringing it to a stop by the side of the street. "The green vapour...The entire lair of the brotherhood was permeated and spread with this strange green incense. We used to breathe it in everyday." He slowly turned to April, feeling the look of shock tighten over his features. "We were told that this green vapour enhanced our physical and psychological ability. It shields us from the effect of this compound, while the rest of humanity loses whatever power it has..."

"Allowing Eyra and his men to rise over mankind, crushing any opposition before it even begins." finished April.

The silence inside of the cabin seemed to thunder, as the two of them sat there. Exposed to a deadly master-plan.

"Energize needs to disperse the toxin on a massive scale." April went on. "For this, it needs both the authorisation of governments around the world... and their help in creating large-scale aerial distribution channels. And the only excuse for that would be..."

"A real nuclear war." Ron stared in front, unblinking. After a long moment, he asked April, "So what was it that Eyra needed from this pen-drive?"

"The pendrive stored a top-secret key formula that was needed to finish this compound." revealed April. "Based on what I read from the notes stored in the pendrive... apparently the brotherhood had a team of chemists in a secluded region somewhere working on the formula for some time, before the team finally managed to crack it. For reasons of secrecy, they created only one copy with the final formula and transferred it to Eyra that day in this case."

"Before Eyra could send the formula to Energize for production, I got in the way." Ron's voice came as a whisper.

April nodded. "And they now have it."

Ron slowly turned his head and stared at the street outside of them. The genius and the deadliness behind the plan that he had heard... it left him speechless.

For many long moments, the two of them sat there in the stalled car. Attempting to collect themselves after what they had discovered.

_____________

Sitting opposite to Eyra in this small air conditioned room was the president of Energize. His name was Don Langdon, and he was a lean middle-aged man with a trimmed brown beard. He was wearing a well-ironed gray suit and a tie that matched the colour of the suit.

Eyra smiled at the handsome man sitting across the table. Years ago, the brotherhood had initiated this company, Energize, and had appointed Don Langdon as its head. They had directed him all these years, knowing that this corporation was vital to the plans that they had.

And now, whatever they had been working for could be seen bearing fruit...

Eyra raised the glass of water in front of him and took a mild sip. Placing it back on the table, he heaved a deep breath.

"A while ago, we received the final key to create the compound." he told Don. "The formula that we had stored, hidden, for so long."

"We have the key formula?" asked Don, his voice soft. There was a quiet excitement bubbling underneath.

"Yes," said Eyra. "We can now go ahead with the full-scale production of the compound."

Don gave a confident nod. "After imbibing the formula, the compound would be available for mass-usage in less than a few hours. All other components have been kept ready all this time. Now that we have the key to complete the compound," He smiled. "we can have the entire process finished within a few hours."

"Excellent." said Eyra, a smile rising to his lips. "Everything else is in place. We have a nuclear warhead now in our command, the most powerful one in existence. All we need now is the right climate to push the trigger in." He could sense the smile on his face grow longer. "Soon, we would have that as well."

_____________

Ron and April had gotten off the car, and were walking down a park just nearby. They needed to re-vitalise themselves, and work on their plan from here.

The large park had benches by the side, and leaves were littered on the ground. Massive trees were planted on both sides, with branches that expanded overhead. The jumble of leaves blocked out the sky, so that during the day, sunlight from the top would be filtered on its way down.

"We've got the whole picture now." A shudder passed April. "The extent to which these men are willing to go..."

"They're not like ordinary men, Rhodes." said Ron. "They have a vision, a purpose that makes them far more dangerous than normal criminals or terrorists."

As Ron spoke, a thread of thought connected to the memories of those days. He drew in a slow breath.

He went on, "The brotherhood always stays ahead of everyone. Always three steps ahead. We now need to know what they're doing, what they're planning next."

"We know that their current short-term goal is to push the red-line back into war." April said. "After working with the CIA and having analysed the condition at that border," She looked at Ron. "I can tell you that's not a hard thing to do."

Ron's mind raced forward. Trying to work out what they needed to do now.

He turned and faced April.

"We'll get back to the car and drive to some place safe. There, we'll interrogate the guy we've bagged. We've got to know what the brotherhood is planning next."

April nodded. "All right."

Turning, the two of them went strolling back towards their car the way they had come.

_____________

Somewhere in a dark room far away, Raze stood along with a group of other brotherhood men.

All of them were standing in line before Raze, attentive and still. They wore the same black coats.

There was an atmosphere of purpose around them.

On the table beside Raze was a clutter of items. He let his eyes drift over them. Russian ID cards, Russian soldiers' badges... and Russian military uniforms.

All of this was for them to wear in just some time.

Raze gazed down the line of men, all of whom stared back at him with serious faces. They were ready... for what they had to do. A vital task awaited them.

They were going to stage a massive terrorist attack on US soil. And they were going to portray it as an attack perpetrated by ultra-nationalist Russian soldiers.

The intent behind this was to re-ignite tensions at the red-line, and send US and Russia back into war... This was just what the brotherhood needed to facilitate their goal – a full thermonuclear exchange that would spread chaos around the world.

And from the ashes of this world, Raze through to himself. a newer one would rise.

"Get ready, men." he said, turning to the men. "We're brushing through the final details of the attack and then leaving."

## ~

Ron and April were driving towards the outskirts of the town they were in. They knew that they had to take shelter somewhere secure. A safe spot where they could lie low and stay off the radar of police forces here as well.

Lying on the seat behind them, the man from the brotherhood was still unconscious. They heard him stirring faintly now and then.

As they drove down the road, they looked down both sides of the street, observing the region to see if there was any secure place that they could use.

They moved down a quiet neighbourhood for some time, before moving into a less inhabited region of the town. Lone houses were spaced far apart on large green fields. Buildings were rare to come by.

After roaming this region for nearly an hour, they passed a completely abandoned airbase with a group of empty jets resting outside of it. Upon driving for a few more minutes, they found an abandoned warehouse in the middle of a large field. The area surrounding it was almost empty, with a row of houses visible only far out at the distance.

Ron and April parked the car near the warehouse. Carrying the unconscious body of the man behind, they made their way into the empty structure.

_____________

The mediator was sitting alone in the dark. Marianne struggled to fend off the panic and keep herself calm. She had been here for hours now.

Sitting alone, bound and helpless, she felt herself face the darkest corner of her own heart. Confusion, fear and panic churned within her as one...

Marianne could feel the peril in the global fabric right now... The chaos brewing under the surface, waiting to be unleashed by the dark force that was now holding her here.

She took a group of steady deep breaths, composing herself as best as she could.

Whatever happened, she needed to keep herself focussed and calm. For she had a job to do... and she wanted to find a way to do it, no matter what.

If only I could help to alleviate whatever's going on, somehow.

The thought felt feeble and weak in the situation that she was in. Imprisoned and helpless.

Marianne forced back the hopeless feeling, keeping her spirits mustered. She was a woman of resolve, and she had to keep fighting no matter what...

As she sat there, engulfed in darkness and gloom, she kept herself together. Trying to sort out the mess she was in now.

_____________

Eyra was holding the phone to his ear, speaking quietly.

"In what condition is the operation?" he asked.

"Me and the men are just skimming through the details of the plan one last time." Raze responded. "In just a little while now, we'll be carrying out the attack."

"Excellent." A smile rose to Eyra's lips. "We have worked for this for very long, Raze."

Raze's breathing was heard over the silence. "I know we have, master."

Eyra nodded and said, "Make us all proud."

A soft laughter issued from the other side of the line. "I certainly will."

And the line was disconnected.

Eyra slowly lowered the phone and gazed at it for a moment. He tucked it into his pocket and stood there, facing the window.

_____________

Raze and the rest of the men were now dressed in the Russian military costumes. Wearing the Russian badges and IDs that had been on the table. They were now ready to conduct the attack.

Raze was standing before the table, with a large chart placed on it. The rest of the men stood across, watching with attention.

Displayed on the chart was a map of the city of Chicago. Where they were going to perform the attack.

Raze pointed to different locations and encircled areas in the map, showing the men exactly where they were going to attack.

"The centre-stage of the attack is going to be at a military base by the south of the city." Raze pointed to the region in the map. "This is the heart of this entire operation."

He looked up at the group of men, who were listening silently. "Our plan is to spread in groups and strike at various parts of the city," He gestured to the regions that he had circled in the map. "This will spread chaos through the system. As regions of the city descend into anarchy, a core team would infiltrate the military base... and bring it to the ground."

As he finished, he moved his eyes over the group of men. They all had the same focussed looks on their faces.

Raze closed the map and rolled it over.

"The American armed forces are well trained." he said to the men. "They've always been prepared for attacks from Russians, Chinese and Islamists," A smile tugged at his lips. "But never have they been prepared for us."

A wave of laughter awoke within the room.

_____________

April and Ron stood in the large warehouse, looking down. The man had just awoken, and was lying by the floor of the warehouse with his hands tied.

He slowly looked around the place, before fixing his eyes on the two people in front of him. Despite having just emerged from unconsciousness a few moments back, his gaze was steady. Hard.

"Welcome back." said April.

"We're here to ask you some questions," said Ron. "And we wanna hear some answers."

The man stared back at him coldly. A smile twitched at the corner of his lip.

"You're too late... The wheel has been set in motion."

Ron bent down over him, wearing a look of grim seriousness.

"What are the brotherhood planning to do? Tell us now."

The man's teeth showed as he chuckled softly. Ron sat there, his gaze pinned to him motionlessly.

The man finished chuckling and took a deep breath. Opening his eyes, he levelled his gaze with Ron and spoke.

"Raze and the others are going to attack the US. And leave Russian fingerprints all over it."

The words seemed to echo in the air through the silence. Ron stared ahead of him for many quiet moments. As the statement and its implications settled in his mind, he felt a sudden rush in his blood.

_____________

The men were loading their rifles, readying their gear. Raze bent down and stuffed a pack of powerful explosives into his bag, along with a load of other equipment. Around the room, the two dozen men were also loading up. From the most powerful explosives to guns and ammunition, they were taking all they could into this mission.

This was an attack like the country would have never seen before.

A minute later, they were all geared up. The two dozen men slung their bags around and strode down the dark room. Pushing the door open, they emerged in an empty stretch of road in front.

A truck was parked right outside. The group of them climbed onto the back of the vehicle. The machine shuddered to life, and began moving down the road.

Here in Poland, the brotherhood had managed to infiltrate much of the government. The state was already weakened with the aftermath of the war and a bad economy. They had taken advantage of the situation to creep right in, so that they could use the facilities here for their goals.

An abandoned airfield was at the edge of this city. Raze and the group were now driving towards the airfield. Form there, they would take a plane right down to Chicago.

And there, they would begin.

_____________

They had forced the man to reveal everything about the attack. He did so without much hesitation. He clearly wanted to enjoy the helpless state they would find themselves in despite knowing the whole plan.

When they finished listening to it, Ron and April quietly stared at the man. There was a silent ring of alarm in the air.

"We've got to stop them." whispered April.

"The men are in Poland right now." Ron was staring into the distance, his mind at work. "We need to get to Poland, fast."

Ron glanced at the man lying tied on the ground. He had told them where Raze and his men were right now, and how they were planning to reach Chicago. They were currently heading towards an airfield near the north of the nation.

"They're going to take a plane from there and fly to Chicago, right?" he asked the man.

Still smiling gleefully, the man nodded.

Ron took a deep breath, running his hands down his hair. "We've got to stop them."

"There was an abandoned ground with two fighter jets on our way here to this warehouse." April said. "Just a mile away from here."

Ron had seen it too, on their way to this warehouse. He assessed, "German fighter jets go at mach 4. Poland's just next door. If I fly one of those, we could reach the airfield in fifteen minutes."

April nodded. "So we get to that ground now, get hold of one of the jets and get to the airfield in Poland. We'll stop them before they board their flight, and confront them. If this works, we might be able to stop what's to come."

Ron gave a nod. "We're short on time. Let's move."

They restrained the man heavily, ensuring that he wasn't able to escape. Gagging his mouth, they left him by the corner of the place.

They then took some time to spread their guns and ammunition from their bags on a table. Working as fast as they could, they organised their weapons and their equipment, ensuring that they had enough.

They then loaded it back into their bags and slung it over their shoulders.

The two of them looked at each other, ready to depart on what well could be the most important task of both their lives.

"Time to go," said Ron.

Across the hall of the warehouse, the door blasted open. A group of uniformed men rushed in, all of them wielding guns and yelling:

"Hands up now! This is the CIA!"

"CIA! Put your hands up!"

The dozen or so uniformed men rushed into the warehouse, their weapons pointing to where Ron and April stood.

The two of them stood rooted to the ground, overwhelmed with shock and disbelief. In one second, time had been gushing forward with a relentless force. And in the very next second, it had stopped completely.

Before they could do anything, the men had surrounded them. Ron and April were both handcuffed, their weapons seized from them.

Ron stared across the room, feeling the gaunt look stretched upon his face. Beside him, April appeared the same.

Restrained and helpless, they walked out along with the CIA agents... A sense of disbelief and panic had swallowed both of them.

They had just been backstabbed by fate... At the worst possible time imaginable.

_____________

The truck had reached the airfield.

Raze and other men now stood before the large plane which would take them to Chicago. It was shaped like a fighter jet, curved and graceful. It was among the fastest jets present in this hemisphere.

Raze spared a moment to turn and look at the group of men. They were all gazing up at the plane in front, and a rigid military focus could be felt emanating from them all.

Turning back with a smile, Raze boarded the plane through the staircase placed against it. And the rest of the men followed.

A few minutes later, a loud rumble shook the air as the plane's engine came on. The machine slowly rolled down the runway. It steadily gathered speed and went thrusting down the massive stretch of road.

The jet peaked at an incredible speed before lifting off gracefully. It glided upwards, its wings balanced as it shot into the air peacefully.

A few seconds later, it was visible as a mere speck moving high up in the sky... before vanishing completely.

In some time, the jet would reach Chicago. And then, everything would change.

_____________

The pack of CIA agents surrounded Ron and April, marching them outside of the warehouse. As they emerged into the vast field, they saw a private plane waiting out there. It belonged to the CIA.

The CIA officers walked alongside Ron and April as they crossed the large field and arrived before the plane.

The two of them were marched up the private plane, and they found themselves entering a small hallway.

Sitting there in one of the seats with one leg over the other, was Falon.

His face was expression-less as the two of them were brought into the plane.

"And so, the chase ends." he said, watching the two of them escorted through the hallway.

They were made to sit opposite to the man, their handcuffs still on.

April noticed that there were other members of the CIA here in the flight. They were looking at her rather than at the most-wanted criminal sitting beside her. She saw the disappointment and betrayal in their expressions as they quietly gazed at her.

"Welcome home, fellas." said Falon, looking the two handcuffed individuals seated opposite to him.

Turning over, he looked at the driver's cabin at the end of the hallway.

"Time to take it off." he called.

The two drivers nodded. One of them responded, "Affirmative, sir."

A few minutes later, the plane was in the air.

Silence shrouded the scene within, as Ron and April sat there along with the other CIA executives. Through the window outside, they could see the city drop as they gained altitude. The large houses that they had earlier seen were now shrunken to mere dots. Clouds floated about along with them, spreading the rays of the sun that streamed in from the other side.

Falon placed his newspaper beside him and sat watching the two passengers across. His eyes halted over Ron, boring into him for many moments.

"You've been quite a pain, Ron Andris." His voice had a mixture of anger and annoyance. "It's good to finally have you in the bag."

His gaze now shifted to April, and something quiet swirled beneath his features.

He was silent for many seconds, before taking a deep breath and picking up the newspaper from beside him.

"I can't express how disappointed I am, April." he said, and his eyes sank back to the newspaper.

April felt a stinging pain as she heard the words. The realisation sank through her slowly... that she was now a criminal. And she would most likely spend her life behind bars.

"Listen, Falon," Ron's voice had a stab of urgency. "I tried to tell you something a few days ago... something that I mentioned was important, but you never listened to me. Right now, that problem has reached a climax." Ron sat forward and inhaled deep. "Falon, if you love your country, you will listen to me right now."

"Shut up, Andris." Falon said flatly.

Ron gritted his teeth, feeling anger seethe beneath him. Ignoring the man, he pressed on, "There's a force working to plunge the world into war... We're going to see a terrorist attack, and the red-line's going–"

Without even bothering to look at him, Falon had gestured to someone behind him. Ron had then felt a taser pressed to his back.

A current of electricity now shot through his body, making him go rigid as he sat there. Pain coursed through his nerves for a few seconds, so that he could hardly move. And then, he slumped against his seat, panting.

"Not another word." said Falon, staring at him. "You can babble all you want when you're taken to court."

_____________

Raze and the men were seated within the plane, waiting. The sound of the jet's engine drummed in the air all through the way.

Raze had his eyes closed, watching as the minutes slowly rolled by. He knew that they'd covered two thirds of the distance. He patiently waited for the remaining time to pass.

He inhaled and exhaled as slowly as he could, keeping his mind on his breath. The sound of the loud engine drained from his earshot and all he could now perceive was his own breath...

Some time passed, before the plane's altitude could be felt dropping.

Raze opened his eyes, feeling a renewed sense of calm and focus through his breathing. Through the windscreen at the front, they could see the flight lowering in height.

They were there...

A few minutes passed, and the vehicle was aiming for a landing on what appeared to be an old airfield.

The massive stretch of road was cracked and spersed with greenery. The plane angled towards the airfield... and in a few seconds, a tremble flowed through the hall as the wheels hit the asphalt. The machine went rocketing forward at high speed, before slowly slowing down. It came to a stop at the end of the large road. The men inside unbuckled themselves and made their way out.

A few seconds later, Raze and the men were standing on the ground below.

All of them were looking beyond the airfield. Vast towers could be seen rising at the distance.

Chicago...

A sense of purpose flared in the air. Raze turned and looked about the men.

"Men, spread out to the different locations as planned," he said. "Time to commence the attack."

## ~

Ron and April were sitting in silence. A grim air suffused the plane's hallway all through the journey.

Before they knew it, they had landed and were escorted out to a large police station. Falon and the other CIA executives made their way into the police facility behind the officers escorting April and Ron.

Ron spotted a formally dressed woman waiting inside the hall of the department. Falon greeted her.

"This is Madeline from the state department," he explained to another CIA executive. "She's here to supervise and take note of this new arrest. She'll be here for some time."

As Ron and April walked past the large hall, they saw the woman from the state department, Madeline, glance at them. Apparently having a look at the two wanted criminals she had been brought here for.

Ron and April were placed in separate prison cells with their handcuffs still on. Their bags, which contained their weapons, had been confiscated by the cops.

Ron sat there inside of his cell, feeling a haze envelope his thoughts.

He looked through the metal bars of his cell, and saw a group of uniformed officers sitting by the area outside. A large TV hung by the opposite wall and the officers sat watching it.

Ron could feel a pulse of agitation within him. He walked to the back of the cell and sat with his back against the wall. Closing his eyes, he took a few moments to breathe slowly. Allowing the anxiety to wash off through his breath. He inhaled and exhaled in a rhythmic, calm pattern.

Ron allowed the process to carry on for many minutes, until his inner chaos drew still. And clarity began to glisten in his thoughts.

The last shreds of discord in his mind had dried, and he was now able to focus on the present.

Taking a final deep breath, he opened his eyes.

Whatever happens, I'm gonna keep calm and face it.

He looked through the bars of the cell, and saw that the cops hadn't moved a bit. Their attention was fixed on the TV and whatever was happening within it.

Ron's eyes moved to the screen on the TV. For a few quiet seconds, he was absorbing what he saw on screen.

The calming effect of the breathing withered away, and his eyes widened.

_____________

Times square, New York

Packs of crowds moved through the massive junction. Large lights glittered and flashy ads hung over them. The sound of chatter filled the air.

Amidst the buzz, a pack of people was standing before one of the large screens displayed on the buildings. Unlike the rest of this bustling street, the crowd here was silent.

A news channel was showcased on the screen, and it was bringing news of a terrorist attack in the city of Chicago.

Chaos had engulfed the whole city, with multiple strikes at different parts of the town. And at the heart of the chaos, a powerful attack on a US military base at the outskirts of the city.

The screen was showcasing the base from a helicopter overhead... Thick black smoke rose into the air. One of the buildings in the base was razed to the ground, lying in a heap of rubble. Massive fires raged in many other buildings.

A shiver went through the crowd that watched. A few of them gasped.

Altogether, nearly seven hundred civilians had been killed. Including more than a hundred military personnel.

While the rest of Times Square continued to bustle with life, the large crowd standing before the screen were robbed of a single sound as they watched the news.

_____________

In a dark chamber far away, Eyra was gazing out of the window. There was a contented feeling within him.

He had just heard the news.

The attack had been successful. And the evidence had been perfectly planted.

He heaved a deep breath, allowing the fresh green incense to stream into his lungs. He knew that Raze, among others, hadn't survived... they were martyrs for the cause they had worked for.

And now, thought Eyra, that cause was now all but fulfilled.

Eyra gazed down the waves of sand outside the window, relishing what he knew was now going follow.

_____________

The large meeting room was immersed in silence. Tension hung in the air, along with multiple other emotions. Shock. Grief. Fury.

President Malcom was sitting at the end of the table, his arms folded. His eyes were on the screen at the very end of the room. Sitting about the table were the rest of his office, all of them staring quietly at the screen as well.

The news described the horror that had finished unfolding in Chicago.

They had come under attack from more than twenty soldiers whom, all evidence seemed to suggest, were Russian...

Altogether, seven hundred lives lost...

Malcom closed his eyes and kept focus, as emotion threatened to overwhelm him.

He picked up the remote in front and switched the TV off.

The attention in the room now shifted to him. The members of the White House slowly turned and faced him.

"So, no doubt that they were Russian?" Malcom asked, sitting straight.

Paul Daniel, the defence secretary, answered. "No doubt at all. The law enforcement from Chicago had gotten hold of some of their IDs... they were all members of the Russian military."

The proclamation left a pulse of tension in the air.

President Malcom ran his hands through his tidy brown hair, and inhaled deeply.

"Before we begin to come to any firm decisions, before we respond to this," Malcom let his eyes float over every person in the room. "we all need to silently acknowledge... that we are now at war."

## ~

April could feel a sinking sensation within her, as she sat there in the cell...

In the hall outside, a large TV screen hung by the opposite wall. Her eyes were fastened over the screen, as the news described a horrific terror attack in Chicago.

Whatever they had dreaded all through, what they had tried to stop right from the start... was now coming to life.

Standing about the hall were a few police officers, along with the woman from the state department, Madeline.

They were all frozen where they were, staring at the screen. April could hear some of the cops exchange curses about Russians.

The effect was already beginning... April knew that in no time, the world would have gone down an irreversible path. There was no time left...

She rose and walked upto the bars of the cell. Her hands were handcuffed, but she could still move about within the place.

She saw Madeline, the woman from the government, briefly look at her. Their eyes met, and the woman slowly strolled up to April's cell.

"Listen, Madeline, there's vital information that I have, concerning what's happening right now." April said. "Something neither the government nor the intelligence are aware of. And something that they very urgently need to know. Can you give me a minute and just listen to what I have to say?"

Madeline's eyes swam with confusion.

"You must already know that I worked with the CIA," went on April, the urgency pressing in her voice. "I was one of their top agents, and I've got my country's interest at heart. All I'm asking of you is a minute."

Madeline heaved a quick breath, and then glanced about the hall. One or two of the cops were looking at them, wondering what was going on.

Turning back to April, Madeline gave a nod. "Okay."

She turned over and gestured two of the cops over.

"Yeah, Ma'am?"

"Can I just have a brief word with her, please?" Madeline asked the officer politely. The two officers looked inside the cell at April, appearing confused for a moment.

"Certainly." one of them finally said.

They punched the password on the digitpad outside the cell, and the bars slid open.

Madeline walked into the room, standing right before April.

"Okay, go on." she said.

April explained everything to her... She told her the entire story, starting from when she had been sent to chase down Ron, through the long, treacherous journey that the two of them had taken. Everything about this powerful secret group that bore influence over the entire world.

As she explained, Madeline looked at her with an inscrutable expression. Her eyes were unreadable. April felt a flutter of fear, as she wondered whether this government official would also wave this away as rubbish as Falon did.

When she was done, Madeline stood there, watching her unblinkingly.

Their eyes were clasped for a long moment. April felt her spirits sink...

"I don't know whether or not to believe this." Madeline heaved another deep breath. "But I will get to the white house right away, and convey the entire story that you've told me. If there is even the smallest chance that this is true, then we could be looking at something catastrophic."

With that, she stormed out of the cell with an urgency in her stride.

The officers walked forward to April's cell door, and punched the password in the digitpad. The cell door slid shut once more.

_____________

Madeline strode down a hallway in the large police headquarters.

She couldn't deny that she was mildly shaken. Whatever had just transpired had been surreal. And surprising.

When she had listened to the CIA agent, April, she had initially felt confused. What she was hearing was outlandish, close to silly. But it was the manner in which the young woman had conveyed the entire story. Madeline could tell that she wasn't lying. In either case, there was nothing to be gained in this for her. She truly believed whatever she was saying...

A secret organisation was pulling the strings, weaving everything that was going on...

April didn't come across as mentally ill or delusional.

For the tiniest moment, Madeline's thoughts strayed across the line ... wondering if this really was true.

She realised that she needed to reach the White House as fast as possible, to tell them what she had heard. To let them decide for themselves.

Reaching the end of the corridor, Madeline pushed the door open and emerged at a large car park.

She stood there for a second, wary of her breathing grow laborious. Before taking another step forward, she inhaled deep and allowed some of the tension to flow out from her system.

And then, she strode forward towards her car, which was parked across the area.

The exit door behind her swung open again. She paused and looked about. Falon, the CIA chief, emerged.

Madeline felt a surge of relief as she realised there was someone in this very building that she could convey this information to.

"Miss Madeline, is everything all right?" he asked gently.

"Falon, something happened that you really need to know of."

Without waiting, she quickly told him what she had heard from April.

Falon stood where he was, his face unreadable for a moment.

Madeline added, "The girl mentioned that proof of what she said lay in the fact that all members of this evil organisation wear an identical tattoo by their wrist."

"This may sound strange to you, Madeline," Falon finally said, his voice as calm as a river. "but evil and good are mere points of view to the human mind."

He rolled back both of his sleeves. Branded across the joint of his right wrist was an eye-shaped tattoo. An Egyptian hieroglyph.

"And in our view, it is you that is evil." Falon pulled out a handgun and shot Madeline in the shoulder.

Screaming, the woman dropped to her knees, clutching her shoulder. She slid sideways and hit the ground, her face crumpled in pain.

Falon bent down over her and whispered, "And just for your information, we've got a far deeper reach than you think."

Madeline's eyes were widened, and a mixture of shock and terror left her lying there rigid.

A nasty leer crawled across Facon's face. "There will be nothing that gets in our way, as we bring the world to order."

As Madeline stared at the man above, horrified, Falon rammed the back of his gun into the woman's face. She rolled over, passing out.

"We have crushed greater forces that came in our way than you, little Madeline." Falon's thoughts flashed to something that had been threatening their cause right from the start. Something that he had committed himself to pursuing. Ron Andris... an ex-member of the brotherhood. A traitor.

But he was also dealt with now.

Smiling to himself, Falon lifted the body of the unconscious woman and walked over to a dumpster by the corner of the street. He shoved the body into the dumper and shut the lid.

Dusting his hands, Falon whispered to himself, "Long live the brotherhood..."

And with that, he opened the door through which he had come, and walked back into the police building.

## ~

Somewhere in a US military camp by the western side of the red-line, Commander Johnson was speaking on the phone. He was in his room, a desk spread with items in front of him.

Johnson was frowning as he listened to the person on the other side of the line. A few moments later, he nodded.

"All right, Mr Secretary." With that, the call ended and Johnson placed the phone on the table. He sat straight and heaved a breath.

He had just been speaking to the defence secretary, Paul Daniel.

Johnson was looking across the table for many silent moments. They had just received their instructions...

Reaching across the table, Johnson picked up a walkie-talkie that connected him to every captain here in this camp.

Turning on the walkie-talkie, Johnson spoke into it.

"Captains, ready up and alert all of the men... it's time to get to work."

_____________

The buildings here were almost completely deserted. The entire street was empty, with a few vehicles and equipment lying about. Spread over the area in small groups were men in military uniforms. The Russian soldiers were all alert and focussed, positioned behind the buildings in the area. They were all staring ahead of them, at a fence that cut across the land. It was the red-line, the line that separated Europe. And this was the side that was dominated by Russia.

The men had a nervous demeanour as they gazed across in the darkness. Ever since the attack in Chicago, which their government had clearly denied having any connection to, there was a heightened tension all across the red-line. The troops here were put on alert.

The soldiers stood around the buildings with their weapons in hand, ready. They peered across the fence, onto the region where they knew NATO soldiers were.

Through the darkness, very little was visible.

For many quiet minutes, the men continued to stand as they were, waiting and watching. They were standing within a cloud of darkness and silence.

And then, gunfire burst out from the other side...

As the sound lit up the night, a fuse seemed to have been set off.

Without hesitating for a second, the Russian troops returned fire. The combined sound of machine guns blazing erupted in the air.

The tension that had been in the air seemed to have exploded. Intense gunfire rocked the place as bullets rained across the border from both sides.

In the light flashing from all of their guns, the Russian troops could see the American soldiers across the border... They were leaning out from buildings and cars, dozens of them spread about the region. They were all mobilised and ready, with a heavy military presence across the border.

The Russian soldiers fired on through the mayhem, feeling the madness of war slowly descend back over them all...

_____________

In a quiet house somewhere, a family sat having dinner. The sound of spoons and forks clinking was all that was heard.

All of them were watching the TV fixed against the wall. A grim atmosphere had settled around them, as they listened to what was happening in the news.

Heavy fighting had broken out between NATO and Russian-allied forces across the red-line. A military standoff had been ignited across the border separating Europe.

The two sides were at war again.

Their eyes on the TV screen, the family continued to eat in silence.

_____________

There was a sense of panic that was building within Ron. Everything was falling apart slowly... He knew that he had to do something. The cost would be too great for the world...

Outside, a small group of police officers were sitting about the hall, looking into their own phones or watching the news on TV.

"Hey, fellas!"

The officers turned and slowly looked at Ron, who stood before the cell bars.

"There's something I have to show you." Ron said, having gotten their attention. As the cops rose and looked at him cautiously, Ron showed them his hands... They were uncuffed.

"There seems to be something wrong with your cuffs." said Ron, displaying his hands to them. "Wasn't hard to free myself. You sure this is the best your department's got?"

"Little scum," one of them growled. Together, the four officers rushed towards the cell, two of them ready to bring out their guns.

The man in front punched in the password on the digitpad, and the bars slid open. He stepped inside, his eyes boring into Ron.

"Put your hands before you, now." he snarled. Ron held out his hands, with the handcuffs hanging over one of them.

The man reached for the cuffs, attempting to buckle them together again. Keeping both fists together, Ron rammed them into the man's face as he reached down. Groaning, he stumbled behind and fell.

The three other officers standing outside drew their guns, snarling.

In a flash, Ron had dashed out of the cell, leaping onto the officers. He slammed into two of them, bringing them to the ground. As the third one tried to aim at him, Ron rolled over on the floor and sent a powerful kick to the man's groin.

The man gasped. His knees buckled, and he sank to the floor.

As the officers remained on the ground, groaning, Ron bolted down the hallway. He knew he needed to get to his bag, where his weapons were. As he ran down the hallway, he glanced back and saw no-one behind him. But he knew it was only a small matter of time before more officers came after him.

He arrived at the main hall, with computer systems on the opposite side. A group of three cops sat before the computers. Their eyes moved over Ron and they stood up in alarm.

Before they had reached their weapons, Ron had sprinted across the hall. They opened fire as he rapidly approached.

Ron dropped to the floor and slid across, as bullets flew into the room behind him. He grabbed a small table in the middle of the hall and flung it across towards the cops.

Their eyes widened as they stood with their guns raised. But before they could move, the table had crashed over them, and they hit the ground.

Ron leapt over the computer screen and searched through the cameras that were all over the building. Falon and the other CIA executives were nowhere to be seen, and Ron guessed that they'd returned to their office. He found a room with his and April's bags placed in them. Searching through the camera system, he also located the room where April was. There was a significant police presence nearby both of the rooms, and he knew that he couldn't get there now.

He disconnected all of the systems so that the police here couldn't track him inside this building.

Voices came from the corridor across the hall, along with the stomping of feet. Ron turned and tore down into a hallway by the left. He could hear the pack of police officers charging into the hall outside, and then approaching the corridor he was in. A stairway was present at the end of the hallway, and Ron went flying up it.

He climbed to the third floor and found himself in a long, empty corridor. There were rooms on both sides of the walls. Ron ran down the place, turning into another corridor at the end. Some time later, he was hiding inside of the janitor's closet in an isolated corner of the floor.

He knew that he couldn't wander outside for some time, until the coast was clear.

As he sat within the small dark room, panting, Ron's thoughts wandered. He was thinking about everything that was happening in the outside world right now. A war had broken along the red-line. US forces were advancing into Eastern Europe.

Ron closed his eyes, continuing to pant for some time. Panic seared within him as he wondered if there was enough time left to stop the madness descending over them...

_____________

The small room had a table at the centre with an old TV on it.

Standing by the corner was Eyra, holding a phone to his ear. The phone was ringing, and he waited.

Eyra's eyes were on the TV screen, watching the news showcased within it.

Flashing at the bottom of the screen were the headlines:

Russian-allied forces face heavy casualties as NATO troops advance into Eastern Europe – Sources suggest that more than two thousand soldiers as well as civilians on the Russian side have been killed in the intense fighting.

Eyra felt a smile liven on his face.

The ringing in his phone stopped.

"Hello?" said a voice on the other side of the line.

Eyra was quiet for a moment, his eyes still on the TV screen

"It's time." he said softly.

A second of silence passed between them. The man on the other side of the line could be felt smiling.

"Indeed it's time." he said finally.

"Long live the brotherhood." Eyra said.

"Long live the brotherhood." The voice on the other side of the line repeated.

And the call was disconnected.

_____________

Resting peacefully on the seabed was the Russian warship that stored SkyBlazer, Earth's most powerful nuclear weapon.

Standing inside of the control room were River and the brotherhood's men who had taken hold of the ship some time back.

The men were looking at River, who was pocketing his phone back into his coat. He had just received a call from the boss, Eyra.

It was time for the Russians to vent their fury at NATO aggression.

Looking up at the men, River gave a quiet nod.

Two of the men turned and walked to the controls. They sat there, working on the system for a minute, before giving River a thumbs-up.

"Everything's activated," said one of them. "SkyBlazer is all set for launch."

River carried his gaze over the other men who stood about the room. He then turned back to the two guys before the controls and nodded.

"Launch the weapon."

Without a second's hesitation, one of them pressed the launch button.

_____________

At the rear portion of the warship, a large door slid inside. And a gush of white smoke came from below.

A powerful missile blasted into the sky from below, leaving a trail of smoke behind it...

SkyBlazer soared into the air, its tail lit in bright orange. The nuclear missile streaked through the cloud-gorged sky peacefully, a road of thick fumes behind it. Computer programmed precision guided the missile forth as it propelled over the earth at an unprecedented speed.

It was surrounded by the scenic beauty of the heavens, with seas of misty clouds and a tranquil blue sky above it.

For many minutes, the weapon ripped across the skies, crossing the distance of thousands of miles... And then it sank down in a graceful arc towards the ground.

It sailed down into a vast urban stretch... and a few seconds later, it hit the ground.

A cataclysmic shudder blew across the earth. The sound of it seemed to roar through many hundreds of miles.

An explosion engulfed the entire city of San Diego. Buildings, streets, alleyways and everything dissolved behind a fiery orange blaze. The thundering sound left the entire earth to shake, as a massive mushroom cloud rose into the skies.

_____________

April was sitting with her hands wrapped around her legs in front. She stared at the walls of the cell, feeling a mixture of boredom and disinterest. The hall outside her cell was empty and the TV was turned off.

As April sat there, she felt a very faint shiver awaken within her.

Her posture straightened, and she sat where she was, still, for many seconds.

## ~

President Malcom was sitting in his office, a laptop before him. He rubbed his temples, feeling many sleepless days' toll weigh on him.

Shaking off the weariness, he brought his attention back to his work. After the attack in Chicago, there was too much work to be done...

The door to his office banged open, and a group of his senior advisers rushed in. Malcom stared at them, slowly rising from his chair. The man at the front was holding a phone, which he handed to Malcom.

Malcom held the phone against his ear and listened.

The advisers paused and stood silent around him.

The look on Malcom's face slowly changed as he listened. All emotions seemed to quell in his eyes as he stood there, completely still.

After a few seconds, he lowered the phone and stared out of the window.

Silence had clutched the air in the room, as the men watched the president. A mixture of numerous emotions churned through the air.

"Mr Malcom," said one of the advisors, taking a step closer to him. "What is your next move?"

Malcom's eyes were still outside the window. No emotion was visible in his gaze. Not the deep, swelling grief or the shock and horror he felt. There was just a blank sensation.

Turning to the table, Malcom took his jacket and slipped it around him.

"We're going to have an urgent press conference," he told his advisors.

With that, he turned and walked out of the room, with the rest of the men striding after him.

_____________

The group of men made their way up the old, rusty stairway. They were agents of the brotherhood.

The stairway creaked and strained as they ascended. A few minutes passed and they arrived at a large steel door at the top. The men pushed the door open and found themselves in a massive, dimly lit chamber.

All of them were looking at the centre of the large chamber. And there lay an empty chair, with torn chains lying by the ground around it.

For a long second, the group of men stood where they were, staring at the chair. Shock stabbed at the air.

That chair was where the mediator, Marianne Silva, had been sitting...

She had escaped.

_____________

Falon was in the back seat of a taxi, making his way back to the CIA headquarters.

As the vehicle drove through the busy roads, he looked out the window. There was a scowl on his face.

Within ten minutes, the cab had reached the massive building where they worked. He strode into the building briskly, reaching the elevator.

He looked through the glass wall of the lift as it rose steadily, bypassing many storeys before finally pausing. As the elevator's doors opened, Falon made his way into the large office spreading out in front. The entire office was abuzz with phones ringing, people rushing about, and urgent voices shouting.

Falon strode through the place calmly and reached his air conditioned room.

He called on the top leaders of the agency to his room. An emergency meeting.

Some time later, seven suited men sat in front of his large desk. The most powerful men in this organisation.

"We have a significant presence of Russian agents and militants in this city right now."

As Falon finished, the men stared at him, expressionless.

"In Washington?" asked Jeremy Derek, the deputy chief of the organisation. He peered at Falon through his glasses, surprise flashing in his eyes.

"That's right." Falon nodded. He carried his gaze across all seven of the men, allowing the urgency in his words to press into them.

Falon sat back on his chair, his serious gaze still on the executives in front. "Men, there has never been a more critical moment in our country's history... a more unbearable one. But right now, our task has just gotten much more complicated. Our enemy has infiltrated the heart of the United States. And right now, we have lost more than enough."

"What do you plan to do, sir?" Julian Gomez, the intelligence manager asked. "If they've infiltrated Washington, then we're dealing with a very serious security threat. And at this moment, with the two nations at war, we've got to take this with an unprecedented seriousness."

"I intend to." Falon said, looking across the table. "Men, I think it's time we used something that we've been keeping at bay for long."

Falon drew a breath and went on. "Right now, I am authorising the deployment of the Automated Defence Force. I want our machine army to be brought out into Washington, to barricade the entire city."

He had a letter on the desk before him. Picking up the pen, Falon signed the letter at the bottom. He then picked it up and handed it to Jeremy Derek. "This is the letter with my signature, authorising this move. I'm invoking my powers to call the ADF into action." He raised his gaze, looking at the executives. "We need the army to take control of the entire city. I will send in commands through my phone."

Falon's eyes focussed on Jeremy Derek, who was reading the letter. "And I want you to contact the government, and tell them to impose a curfew as well. We need Washington locked up completely, right now."

Derek gave him a nod. "I'll have it done right away, sir."

Another of the men said, "We'll have the orders passed, and we'll have the ADF seal the entire city as soon as possible."

The men rose and left the room, all of them wearing the same look of seriousness. Falon sat there for a few minutes, reclining in his chair.

And then, rising, he walked out of his room.

_____________

Within minutes, the Automated Defence Force was deployed onto the streets of Washington. The army of robots slowly spread over the large city, marching with a mechanical grit in their motion. The machines were all tall and lean, with gleaming black metallic skin. They were built in the image of the average man, with muscular torsos and toned arms. Their heads were built in the form of helmets, with a large strip at the face that took in visual inputs. All of them were carrying the same assault rifle, fully loaded and ready to use.

The army of machines moved into every street, every lane... surrounding and securing hold of the United States' capital.

_____________

Ron was sitting in the small, gloomy room for a long time. He had his back against the wall, looking at the door opposite to him. Some of the equipments used by the janitor were stored here, including mops and buckets.

Since getting in here, he had heard noises and voices bustling outside for some time. The sound of yelling and footsteps rushing past had been coming from other areas of the building. But for a long time now, it felt to him as though a complete calm had fallen... Ron got a distinct feeling that there was a weaker police presence here for some time now.

Rising, he warily moved to the door. He kept his ear pressed against the door for a long moment, but could hear nothing of the corridor outside. He slowly twisted the door knob and pushed the door open.

The corridor outside was empty. Ron steadied himself and prepared to get to the room where his weapons were held. He knew the location of the place, having seen it in the video data just some time back. He quietly snuck his way to the stairs at the end of the corridor, keeping his back pressed to the wall in case a cop appeared at the end. He reached the storey below this and made his way to a room by the other end. Keeping his eyes peeled for cops, he made his way into the room and recovered the bags that belonged to him and April.

As he exited the room, he sensed casual voices at the other end of the corridor.

Without panicking, he quietly made his way to the other end before the officers could appear. He knew now that the only thing remaining here was April...

Keeping both of their bags slung across his shoulder, he descended the stairs back to the first storey. He arrived at an empty corridor. April wasn't very far from here.

He quietly crept down the hallway, reaching the cell where April was.

As he neared her cell, his eyes strayed to a TV screen on the wall. The news was on, and Ron froze as he watched what it showcased.

For a moment, he forgot where he was, as he discovered what had happened. A nuclear attack in San Diego.

A petrified sensation gripped Ron. This can't be.

Shaking himself back to the reality, Ron quickly made his way to April's cell. She was sitting by the corner, and her face flashed surprise as she saw him appear.

Ron pulled out his saber from his bag and sliced off the bars of the cell. April rose to her feet and ran outside.

She stepped outside the bars and Ron handed her bag to her.

The sound of loud voices somewhere caught his attention... A spike of panic occurred within him, and he looked to the other side of the hallway.

A moment passed, and then the sound of hurried footsteps came from the other side of the hallway.

"Cops," Ron whispered.

"Let's go, come on." April called to him. The two of them turned and went thundering down the hallway as police officers came charging from the other side.

## ~

The usually abuzz café was doused in a heavy silence. About the large space, a significant crowd of people sat by the tables. All of them had their eyes on the large TV screen by the corner of the room.

"I know right now, that every single man, woman and child in this country is hearing me." President Malcom was saying in the press conference that was showcased. "And there has never been an instance in history when we have stood as shattered as we are right now. Today will be a day that shall remain engraved in history."

One or two of the people in the café were quietly sobbing. Everyone else merely sat where they were, hardly touching their plates as they watched the press conference.

"At this hour," President Malcom said. "at a time darker than any other, my message to the American people is this: Our minds are reeling. Our hearts are bleeding. But our spirits are not broken."

He took a deep breath, carrying his gaze across the camera.

"In this darkest hour, may we remember who we are." Malcom's voice was softer now. "May our spirits come united as one force... and together, may America rise."

Through the gloomy silence in the café, a small voice came from the corner:

"O say, can you see... by the dawn's early light."

Every head in the place turned to the back. A young boy stood there, his innocent eyes watching the TV screen in front.

The boy's beautiful voice rose once more as he stood where he was, still:

"What so proudly we hailed... at the twilight's last gleaming."

The melody faded into silence once more. Everyone was looking at the boy, while the press conference continued in the TV.

"Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight... Over the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming."

His voice fell and the cold loneliness occupied the café again... A noiseless quiet lingered.

And then, through the shattered silence, a slow huddle of voices gathered to take the song forward:

"And the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air, gave proof through the night that our flag was still there."

The voices in the café collected and strengthened as, one by one, they all joined the chorus. Soon, everyone in the place was singing. The gloomy silence melted, and warmth and hope spread over the air.

"Oh say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave... over the land of the free, and the home of the brave."

## ~

Falon walked down the pavement briskly, his eyes across the street. Arriving at the signal, he crossed the road and made his way towards a black SUV parked by the side.

Through the dark windows, he could see a group of men sitting inside. All of them were wearing black coats, with guns by their side.

As he approached the large car, a door by the front opened. Without looking about, Falon slid onto the seat beside the driver.

"Start driving." Falon said.

The vehicle began moving and the agents of the brotherhood sat in silence.

Falon was looking at the street in front. The crowds that they usually saw here in this part of Washington were beginning to thin. A curfew had been imposed.

"What we're about to do is very important, men." Falon said. "Let's keep that in mind, while we go."

He could feel the men behind nod quietly.

The car continued to drive down the road, while they sat inside and watched in silence.

_____________

The sound of feet thudding echoed within the hall. Ron and April were dashing down the corridor in the third floor without bothering to glance back.

"Stop right there!" one of the officers called from behind. About five or six of them were pursuing them, sprinting down from the other side of the hallway.

A gunshot rang out. Ron ducked, and saw the wall ahead of them struck with a bullet. Turning back, he fired a few shots from his rifle. The cops threw themselves off the way as bullet holes struck the floor and the walls. Turning back, Ron hurried up the stairs along with April. They were now reaching the terrace...

They barged towards the door at the top of the stairway, ramming through it. A wide open area spread out before them. Buildings from nearby could be seen from here, the taller ones dwarfing them. Without pausing, Ron and April pelted across the wide open space as the officers arrived behind them.

April turned over and shot twice into the air, causing the cops to pause and duck for cover. They recovered quickly and returned fire at them. Ron and April heard the bullets hit the tarmac around them, while some whizzed off into the air.

As they hurtled forth towards the edge of the roof, Ron felt a rush of blood. He knew that this was the only way...

As they reached the edge, the two of them together launched over...The large car-park that spread out below seemed to magnify as they plummeted.

Wind gush around Ron's body, leaving his clothes to buffet. The line of police vehicles parked directly beneath them came rushing up towards them, and within half a second, the two of them had crashed through the roof of one of the cars. The impact crushed the entire vehicle, shattering its windscreen and all windows. Ron and April lay in a pool of glass shards, panting.

Twisting around as he groaned, Ron slid off the roof of the car and landed on the ground. April followed as well, and the two of them gathered their breath in a second and went dashing through the car park.

Ron glanced back at the roof, and saw the cops appear there. Their gazes fixated over the two of them as they went tearing through the car park. They raised their weapons and fired. Ron and April ducked to the side, keeping themselves hidden behind a line of police cars as they ran. Ron raised his weapon and returned fire, distracting the officers. Reaching the wall of the police complex, the two of them threw themselves over it, landing on the pavement of the road outside. Gunshots continued to ring, and the two of them ducked behind the wall for a moment. As a very small lull landed between the shooting, they made a dash across the road without pausing.

Within seconds, they were charging through a lane on the other side of the road, glancing back nervously. They were now outside the reach of the officers.

"They'll come after us," said April. "We need to put as much distance between them as possible."

"We won't be able to do it on foot." said Ron.

As they emerged on the other side of the lane, they saw a car parked by the side. They ran towards it, and Ron halted before the driver's door. There was a man sitting inside of it, apparently waiting for someone else. His eyes roamed to Ron, who stood outside with a machine gun. Panic clouding his face, the man pushed the door open and emerged with his hands up.

Ron leapt into the driver's seat and April took the seat beside him. The key was already inserted, and Ron let the engine churn to life.

The car's wheels screeched, and the vehicle leapt forward. Ron floored the gas-pedal, sending the vehicle ripping through the street at a dangerous speed. April glanced back nervously before turning ahead.

"Keep driving." she said. "Let's get as far away from here as possible."

The engine roared as the machine went streaking through the streets

_____________

President Malcom slid into the back seat of the car, shutting the door. He had just finished the press conference, and was now heading back to the white house... This was where the serious game began.

The United States had been attacked with a nuclear weapon. Malcom knew that there had to be a retaliation...

The car began moving, making its way back to the white house. Malcom's phone rang, the sound shattering the silence.

He dug his hand into his pocket and slowly brought out the device.

"Hello?" he said, holding the phone to his ear.

_____________

"President Malcom," said the mediator. She was standing in a deserted alleyway, a few miles away from where she had been held. "This is Marianne Silva, the UN's appointed mediator."

She could feel the president of the United States' attention sharpen slightly at that.

Marianne took a deep breath. "Mr Malcom, the conversation that we're having right now could be the most important one ever. Please listen to what I'm about to tell you very carefully."

## ~

As the car drove, Malcom was sitting at the back with the phone held to his ear. His eyes were outside the window, and there was an unreadable look on his face.

Complete silence pervaded within the car for about a minute, as the president sat with the phone to his ear. Saying nothing.

As the long silence passed, Malcom took a deep breath, bringing his gaze back to the vehicle.

"My God... This is unfathomable." he said softly.

Deep down, Malcom felt quietly flabbergasted. It was as though the boundaries of the world that he knew had been re-defined. All of this time, we were manipulated...

"Mr Malcom," continued Marianne, the urgency deepening in her voice. "Whatever happens right now, you cannot respond with nuclear weapons. You would be falling right into the trap."

Malcom closed his eyes, taking a deep, steadying breath.

"I absolutely will not." he told Marianne. "I had no idea of what was going on. But now I do. Marianne, thank you for bringing this to me. You've done us all a great service."

Hanging up, Malcom stared at his phone for a few long seconds. He put it back in his pocket, and sat there with his eyes ahead of him.

There was a dizzying feeling within him. He sat there with his arms folded, looking out the window in silence as they drove on.

He knew that everything was now changed. The entire narrative. All of this was happening because someone wanted it to. A powerful organisation working in the shadows.

A few minutes later, they had arrived at the white house. The car was parked inside the large compound, and Malcom strode into the massive building. He turned into a stairway by the right and made his way to the second floor.

He reached a grand hall at the second floor, with a row of rooms by the right. Malcom walked across the hall, pausing by a desk on the other side.

"Hello, Mr President."

Malcom spun around, stunned.

Standing by the other corner of the massive hall was Falon. The chief of the CIA. His form was half draped in shadows, but Malcom could sense the smile he wore as he stood there watching the President from across the hall.

"Falon, what're you doing here?" Malcom asked.

The suited man slowly stepped forward from the dark corner. And as the shadows receded, Malcom saw the handgun in his right hand, aimed directly at the President.

Malcom's body went rigid, a chill spreading through him.

"What is this?" he whispered, looking at the head of their intelligence.

The leer on Falon's face stretched longer.

"This is the birth of a new age."

The confusion was replaced by shock as the realisation blossomed within Malcom. He felt a rush of air in his lungs.

"You're... one of them." he whispered. "This secret group that had abducted Marianne. The one responsible for this carnage."

Falon laughed softly. Those calm eyes now carried a dangerous fire.

"What do you want?" Malcom asked, his jaws clenched.

"I think you already know, Mr President."

A hollow sensation caved within Malcom, as he looked at the CIA chief. The man he held as a trusted friend for so long.

"I want America's nuclear codes." said Falon. A mad gleam awoke within his eyes as he said it. "The keys to this country's nuclear weapons... All of them."

Malcom stood where he was, rooted to the spot. His eyes were locked with those of Falon for a long second.

"You madman." Malcom whispered.

Falon seemed to revel in the alarm and horror that President Malcom was tasting.

"It's time for the world to start over, Malcom." said Falon. "Give me the command codes to America's nuclear missiles."

His gun hovered before Malcon's chest.

Malcom shook his head very slowly. The peril he was feeling was blocked out by the anger and determination.

"I won't do it." he spat.

Falon's expression was just as calm as ever. He stood there over the silence, watching the president with a smile on his face.

"You don't have a choice, Malcom." he said, snapping his fingers.

One of the doors by the right of the hall opened, and two armed men in black coats slowly walked out. They stood by either side of the door, their eyes fixed on the president. And then, emerging from the darkness within the room came Malcom's wife Georgia and daughter Bertha. Both of them were gagged and tied, with four more armed men walking along behind them.

The two of them stood before the door, surrounded by gunmen in black coats. Their eyes were helplessly watching President Malcom.

Malcom felt as though he was in a different reality all of a sudden. He gaped at his two loved ones, who were now bound and held hostage. A wave of horror and panic came crashing over him.

He turned around, looking at Falon. The man was standing as calm as ever, smiling.

"Like I said, Mr President," Falon said, his gun still held before Malcom. "You have no choice."

_____________

Inside a police station far away, a group of officers were sitting about the hall. Some of them were watching the news playing before them.

Some time passed as the uniformed men in the large station worked silently. And then, the sound of marching came from the street outside.

The attention in the room stirred as the men turned over and looked through the entrance.

A line of robotic soldiers marched into the large station, all of them armed with heavy assault weapons. The police officers in the large hall froze, staring.

The machines were all lean and muscular in their build, with helmets for heads that came with a large glass patch at the front. Speakers were present at the base of the helmets.

The batch of robots spread inside of the hall, while the confused cops gaped at them. The police-men knew that the city was under lockdown, and that the Automated Defence Force was called in for security purposes. But as the machines stood about the large room, pointing their guns at the police, something else slowly dawned in the air.

A loud mechanical voice issued from one of the robots' speaker: "Drop your weapons and stand where you are with your hands in the air," The machine's voice boomed over the hall, so that everyone could hear. "If you resist us, you will all be neutralised instantly."

A silent sense of shock rushed into the air. The police officials in the large hall did as they were ordered, rising and dropping their weapons to the ground. They all held their hands up, with the large batch of robots aiming their guns at them.

A minute later, all of the police-men were sitting by the corner of the large hall, their hands and feet tied. Their eyes blindfolded. The robots stood about the room, watching over them through their cold glass patches.

_____________

At Washington Police Headquarters not far away, police chief Mitt Arnold turned and stared at the entrance.

About the large hall, the rest of the officers were looking too. A group of robots from their Automated Defence Force marched through the entrance without permission, and spread inside of the large hall.

The officers in the hall wore a look of confusion and surprise as they watched their CIA-sponsored army move into the police headquarters.

The machines had now spread over the massive hall, their guns raised.

Mitt Arnold felt something unusually provocative in what he was seeing.

He stepped forward, addressing the group of mechanical soldiers.

"Robots," he took on a loud voice, letting all of them hear him. "You are not authorised to enter this premises. This is under the authority of Law Enforcement agencies."

A few seconds of silence followed his statement. The man-like machines all turned to face him, their helmet-screens looking directly at him.

And then, the robots standing near him raised their guns, aiming right at him.

Mitt Arnold stared at what he saw, a shiver creeping through him.

"Attention, officers," one of the robots called in a loud, mechanical tone. "You will lay down all the weapons currently in your possession and stand where you are with your hands raised. Make any sign of resistance... and you will all be neutralised."

A thunderstruck silence pervaded the entire hall. Mitt felt a dawning, terrible realisation.

We've been deceived.

The entire office did as they were ordered, placing their weapons on the floor and raising their hands over the head. The robots walked upto each of them one by one, tying them up and blindfolding them.

Mitt Arnold felt a swirl of horror as the seriousness of this situation slowly sank into him.

Right now, the United States' capital was effectively taken over by an enemy force... and there was absolutely zero resistance to stand in their way.

## ~

As they drove through the empty streets, April and Ron were listening to the radio. The news described to them everything that was going on to them. Washington was under lockdown, and the CIA's Automated Defence Force was brought out into the city.

As they drove through the deserted roads, they saw groups of black machine soldiers guarding the place. They were present in every third or fourth street, but Ron guessed that there was a weaker presence in this region, which was further away from the heart of the capital. There would probably be a much heavier presence near the centre of the city.

"What is this for?" asked April, appearing perplexed.

As they warily drove through the streets, Ron flicked from channel to channel among multiple news channels in the radio. Gathering all the information that they could receive.

"Sources say that the CIA has intelligence about a suspected Russian terrorist presence in Washington," a voice in one of the channels was explaining. "which was the reason for this crucial response."

Ron scowled, bringing the car to a stop by the side of the road.

"What is it?" asked April.

Ron looked ahead, his thoughts zooming.

Far ahead, at the other end of this street, they could vaguely see a line of black robots. They were carrying powerful firearms, all of them emanating focussed demeanour that humans could rarely showcase.

"Do you see that?" April pointed ahead through the windscreen.

"The robots? Yeah."

"No," April's voice had surprise in it. "Look closer to the bunch of robots out there... there're two men in black coats standing amidst them."

Ron waited for a moment, staring at her. He then narrowed his eyes and looked ahead, examining the group of black soldiers at the end of the street.

His heart-rate spiked as he saw it.

"Yeah, I see them too." he said slowly, sitting back. "God, those are –"

"Members of the brotherhood." April completed for him.

A long silence fell as the two of them looked at each other. The same shock reflected off both of their faces.

Ron turned back ahead, scowling. "The CIA put this city under lockdown, having received some intelligence that there was a Russian militant presence here."

"Which we clearly know there isn't."

Ron's scowl vanished, and he was expression-less for a while.

"Oh, no... why didn't we see it right from the start?" he asked himself softly.

"See what?"

Ron slowly turned to her, feeling the look of shock on his own face.

"Falon... he's a spy from the brotherhood. He's got to have done this on their orders."

April took a moment to digest what she had heard.

"Falon... a member of the brotherhood?" There was a far-off tone in her voice. She shook her head slowly. "It can't be."

"It is, April." pressed Ron. "Your boss is one of them. No wonder he never listened to me right from the start.

"Wait," April said slowly. "So you're telling me that right now, this entire city..." Her voice seemed to trail off.

"Is under the control of the brotherhood." finished Ron. "That's the reason it makes sense that we see men in black coats between the robots. Because for all likes and respects, they are the same now... they're all agents of the brotherhood."

"But for what?" April asked. "What do they gain by taking control of this city? This has nothing to do with their plan, unless..."

Her voice stopped once more, and a bewildered expression lit her face.

Ron felt his heart skip a beat. He caught up too...

"The White House." he said, looking ahead. "They're going directly for the nuclear codes themselves."

April shook her head in shock.

"We need to get to the White House." she said, looking at him. "They've probably got the president by now. We've got to go now!"

"Look around you." said Ron. "The entire city's been barricaded by a more powerful force than anyone saw coming. We're not going to make it anywhere close to the White House. The machine army's here to make sure of that."

April looked back in front. Her eyes were closed, as she spent many seconds gathering her calm.

"We're overpowered." said Ron, a note of helplessness in his voice.

April remained silent for many seconds, before looking at him.

"We're not." she said.

"What do you mean?" asked Ron.

April reached for her phone, and dialled a number on the screen. She held the device to her ear, waiting for whoever she was calling to pick up.

A few seconds passed, before she heard a male voice from the other side of the line.

"Hello?"

"Lillard, this is April." she said. "April Rhodes."

"April, what's happening?"

April paused for a second, collecting her thoughts. "Lillard, are you back at your station?"

"Yeah, I am." he responded. "We're in our base near Washington. We got back from Turkey just a day ago."

"Lillard," April allowed a sliver of urgency into her voice. "You're aware of what's going on in Washington, aren't you?"

Lillard gave an easy chuckle. "We're military, April. It's our job to be aware."

"All right, listen closely." April lowered her voice a bit. "There's something very big going on. And I'm telling you because you're someone I know I can trust."

Lillard was quiet for a second. "Whatever it is, I've got your back, pal."

April detailed what was going on, the fact that an enemy force was under control of the capital. A brief picture of what was happening...

"You're saying that our government has been... infiltrated?" Lillard asked, as she finished.

"Yes. Infiltrated at the highest level." April explained. "Falon, the chief of the CIA was working for these guys right from the start... He was a spy. And now, he's got the white house and the president all to himself. As of now, the entire world is danger."

Lillard was quiet for a few seconds as he absorbed what he was hearing.

"The entire city is militarised with the ADF." he said slowly. "So law enforcement and police would be powerless too. The only force left..."

"Is yours." said April. "The military's all we've got now."

"I'm not allowed to make any calls on my own." said Lillard, his voice now serious. "We have a chain of command here in the army that's taken very seriously. But if what you're saying is true, then we're dealing with an enemy that's hijacked our own system. The CIA and White House both in their hands. Our chain of command is now compromised as well."

A rush of air could be heard as he took a deep breath. "Going rogue's the only option right now. I'm bringing in my entire battalion, and we're moving into Washington. We'll fight our way into the city."

April grinned. "Knew I could count on you."

"Just hold on wherever you are." Lillard said, his usually casual voice now steeled with focus. "We'll get there as fast as we can. And we'll beat the living stuff out of whoever's messing with America."

As the line cut, April replaced her phone.

"I've told a friend of mine at the army." she told Ron. "He'll be bringing his forces here soon enough."

"We can't wait for them to arrive, April." Ron spent a moment thinking. "We'll have to try sneaking our way in as far as we can. Sitting here and waiting is not an option when so much is at stake."

April peered ahead of her, at the line of robots visible at the other end of the road. Bracing herself with a quick breath, she nodded.

"All right."

Ron turned on the engine once more, reversing the car and sending it through one of the lanes by the right. They knew that the robots were less likely to be present in smaller lanes, and they needed to stay as far away as possible from the sights of the machines as well as the brotherhood members present there.

Ron gently pushed the vehicle forward, keeping the engine noise as low as possible. They crept by lane after lane, making sure that they didn't go too close to the packs of machines that they saw around.

A few minutes had passed, with the car slithering through the smaller lanes to avoid attention. They were moving towards the heart of the city, where the White House was. As they crossed between streets, they could see robots at the far end of both sides. The armed presence was growing tighter towards the city's centre. The mechanical soldiers were occasionally present alongside men in black coats...

The two of them were exiting from a small lane into a large junction. And pooled by the side were a large group of robot soldiers, standing rigid as they kept watch over the place.

Ron saw their vehicle reflect on the machines' large glass patches... and as one, the robots raised their weapons.

"Slam it!" roared April.

Without thinking, Ron thrust his foot against the gas pedal. The vehicle lurched forward right as gunfire burst from the robots. The sound of glass shattering came from behind as two bullets smashed into the rear window.

The car launched forward with a sudden speed, so that Ron and April were both pushed back on their seats. Heavy gunfire continued to grind in the air as the machines shot at them from behind. The sound of bullets sprinkling against the back door came within the cabin.

The car was now barrelling down a road in the junction, the sound of the engine booming over the air. As they went flying forth, they could see a larger group of robots waiting at the other side.

"Time to get our guns out." said Ron, gripping his rifle with his free hand.

As the vehicle hurtled towards the machine soldiers, they stood their ground and raised their weapons.

Ron hung his machine gun out of the window and opened fire, even as April fired from her window. Dust erupted on the robots' metallic skin as bullets went through them. Some of them toppled to the ground, and the remaining opened fire at the car.

Ron and April ducked as bullets exploded through the windscreen in front. Without looking, Ron pressed the pedal harder, and they could feel the car smash through the group of robots. Through the side window, he saw the mass of robots blown aside at the force of the vehicle. Some of them landed on the ground in multiple pieces. Shudders rocked the cabin. Ron kept his foot on the pedal, and the vehicle went sailing through the clear street ahead.

_____________

Malcom could feel his heart banging against his ribs as he stood there in the quiet hall. Falon was standing ahead of him just as calmly, his gun in his hand.

"Please, don't do this." Malcom could feel the desperation in his own voice. He looked to the side of the hall where his wife and daughter were, with the armed men surrounding them. They looked petrified, their faces white.

"Time's running out, Malcom." Falon's voice was dangerously soft. "Give me the nuclear codes."

"You want to wipe out hundreds of millions of innocent lives!" Malcom's voice echoed within the large hall.

Falon's eyes were posted steadily on him, and not a flicker of change occurred in his face.

Silence flowed between them for a few seconds. And then, Falon's lip twisted.

He turned and walked behind a few steps, standing faced to back wall for a long moment.

"Bring me the girl." he called, without turning.

"No," Malcom whispered, feeling all colour leave his face.

His wife Georgia squealed through her gag, but two of the gunmen held her back as she tried reach for her daughter.

One of the men brought Malcom's daughter Bertha to where Falon was standing.

Falon slowly turned over, his eyes falling over the young child. He gently patted the back of her lush blonde head. Then, he reached within his pocket, and brought out a sharp razor.

As Bertha stood where she was, tied up and unable to see, Falon slowly walked beside her, holding the razor.

Utter devastation built up within Malcom as he stood there, watching.

"Falon... please don't."

Falon's gaze was steady upon him, his face devoid of a trace of mercy. He stood there with the knife in his hand and Bertha standing beside him. Blindfolded and gagged, she whimpered softly.

_____________

Ron steered, and the car's tyres screeched as the machine swerved. They entered a road by the right and the car steadied itself. They were now in a business district, and two massive buildings flanked either side of the road. A line of black mechanical soldiers awaited at the centre of the street.

Ron held his gun out the window and fired ahead of him. Sparks and dust flew from the metallic skin of three of the robots, which slid to the ground. The remaining soldiers fired at the car as it came rushing forward.

Bullets smashed through whatever remained of the windscreen and the two of them ducked for cover.

A loud blast resounded through the street, and the car lost control.

"One of our tyres is hit!" said Ron, as the vehicle swung to the side dangerously.

The robots lowered their weapons and moved to the side, allowing their car to go skidding forward through the corner of the road.

The front wheels rammed into the pavement, and the car was airborne for a second. It landed on the pavement and a powerful shudder rocked the cabin. Ron and April were thrown forward, and Ron slammed the brakes as hard as he could.

The car's tyres screeched noisily and it spun to the right, coming to a halt right before the building. As Ron and April sat there in the motionless vehicle, loud gunshots came from the street behind them. The machines were firing at them mercilessly. Ron counted seven or eight of the mechanical soldiers, marching forward towards them.

"Time to go." Ron inhaled, picking up his rifle and pushing the door open. He jumped out, and April came through his door as well. The two of them hid behind their car with their guns ready as a hail of gunfire came from the other side. Sparks could be seen exploding from the other side of the car, and whatever remained of the windows shattered.

Ron leaned out for a brief second and returned fire at the robots, but none of his shots hit a target. The machines were lined up across the street, spraying gunfire at the car that they hid behind. April positioned herself at the back of the car, stretching her arm out to shoot every few seconds as well. But they knew that they weren't going to be able to take too many of them down... they were outnumbered and outweighed.

The robots were slowly moving forward now, taking advantage of their weakness. Their bullets had shattered all of the windows in the car.

Ron continued to lean out and take shots at the robots, but so far, he had only managed to bring down one of them. Seven of them remained, and they were soon going to encircle the car and the two of them along with it.

We've gotta fall back thought Ron, glancing at the road behind him. There was nowhere where they could take cover...

As he turned back, a heavier wave of gunfire echoed across the street, coming from somewhere else...

"Look!" April pointed ahead through the window.

A group of US soldiers were rushing into the street, their guns blazing. By the time the seven robots had turned around to address this new threat, three of them were already brought down. The US soldiers advanced into the street, running along the pavement with their heads ducked.

The robots exchanged fire with them, even as one more was brought down.

Taking advantage, April and Ron both moved into the open and stormed bullets at the remaining three robots.

Puffs of dust erupted on their metallic skin as bullets hit them. The remaining three machines were brought down as well, lying on the ground in a motionless pile of parts.

Ron could hear gunfire bellowing from elsewhere nearby.

"The army's sweeping into the city." he said. The pack of soldiers down the road came jogging towards them. As they reached them, the man at the front nodded at April.

He was panting heavily and sweating, but there was an adventurous gleam in his eye.

"Just in time as always, Lillard." April said.

Lillard grinned. "Couldn't let you have all the fun, could I?" He looked back at the rest of his men and yelled, "All right, men. Let's turn it up!"

He looked between April and Ron, greeting the latter with a quick nod which Ron returned.

"We're moving all the way in." he told them. "Let's do this."

Together, Ron, April and the group of soldiers sprinted down the road, emerging into the next. Shootouts could be heard from different places nearby. The army was pushing its way in...

The group of them jogged down the second road, pausing at the junction that came at the end. A small group of robots awaited by the right, along with two black-coated men.

The machines strode forward, firing at them.

"Take cover!" Lillard shouted, firing back at the enemy.

April, Ron and two more soldiers rushed behind a large truck by the sidewalk. The rest of the soldiers took cover at the other side of the road, behind pillars and other vehicles.

The troops fired away from where they hid, their bullets slicing through the robots. The two brotherhood men stood in the open, making their way towards the truck fearlessly. Their guns spat bullets relentlessly...

"Watch out!"

Bullets hit the pavement in front of Ron and April, sending shrapnel and debris flying.

One of the soldiers hiding along with them pulled out a grenade. Plucking the pin, the man tossed the device through the bottom of the truck. The grenade rolled over the street, pausing a few feet beside the two men.

Ron covered his ear and, a second later, a loud blast shattered the air.

The soldiers slowly leaned out to get a glance. The two black-coated men were lying motionless on the ground many feet away, having been hurled away at the force of the blast. Meanwhile, the few remaining machines had been brought down by Lillard and the other the men across the street.

"Let's go, come on!" one of the soldiers called.

Ron, April and the soldiers emerged from the truck and went jogging down the road. Lillard and the others joined them as they went sprinting forward towards the heart of Washington.

The White House wasn't too far now.

_____________

The silence seemed to thunder.

Malcom could feel his breathing grow shallow as panic and terror clutched him from within.

Falon was now standing behind Bertha, the razor placed against her face... Malcom watched as the tip of the blade rested against his daughter's soft, delicate flesh.

By the side, Georgia was standing guarded by the rest of the men, moaning through her gag in fear.

"We've given you too much time, Malcom." Falon said, breaking the long silence. The blade he held hovered down to Bertha's throat. The little girl squealed as she felt the cold metal press against her skin, unable to see. Unable to do anything.

Malcom closed his eyes, feeling the world spin around him. He had thought of himself as a strong person. A good leader. But he realised now that he was defeated. He was nothing.

Opening his eyes, he took a deep breath and nodded. "Fine... you can have the nuclear codes."

Falon watched him just as closely, something crackling deep down in his eyes.

"You can have them." Malcom could feel the plea in his tone. "Please... just let my daughter go. Leave my family alone."

Falon slowly withdrew the knife and held it in the air before him.

His finger trembling, Malcom pointed to a drawer at the other end of the room. "The launch codes are stored in a sealed container in that drawer."

Turning slowly, Falon walked across the room. Pausing before the drawer, he pulled the door open to reveal a wide open space. A small steel container sat by the centre, with the US crest embossed over it.

"What's the password?" Falon asked without turning.

"28-95-34-71-43" croaked Malcom.

Falon entered the digits, and the seal broke open. From where he stood, Malcom could see the man reaching into the steel container and turning around with a small booklet in his hands.

The most important booklet in Malcom's office. And it was in the hands of terrorists.

Falon walked across the hall with the booklet in his hands. He halted right before Malcom, a faint smile on his lips.

Falon quietly pressed the booklet into Malcom's hands.

"I want you to do this." he said, smiling. "Authorise the launch of every single one of America's thermonuclear weapons. Every major city you can think off, in every country in the world."

Malcom looked into the maniac's eyes.

"Destroy the world with my own bare hands?" A coarse chuckle escaped President Malcom's lips. "Very well, Falon."

He slowly slid his hand into his pocket and brought out his office phone. This device could be used to send across nuclear codes, to authorise an immediate strike. His fingers trembling, Malcom slowly opened the booklet and punched in the codes one by one. It took him five minutes or so. Upon entering all of the codes in the message, he stared at the phone for a moment.

If he sent this message, he would be ordering an immediate nuclear strike in more than three thousand cities around the world...

The world as they knew it would be erased.

Time seemed to have slowed down as Malcom stood there, staring at the phone.

"Send the message." Falon ordered.

Complete silence had engulfed the entire hall. Malcom pressed a single button, and the message was sent.

His phone slipped from his sweaty hands, bouncing on the ground. Malcom stood as he was, not bothering to pick it back.

Heaven forgive me.

## ~

The sound of gunfire blocked out everything in the air.

April, Ron and a group of soldiers were ducking behind a large car. Firing into the street in front. A large batch of robots blocked the road in front, showering bullets across the scene. Packs of soldiers were present about the street, all of them taking cover behind vehicles and other objects.

Ron gritted his teeth as he fired relentlessly. They were now outnumbering the machines in the area. The robots backed away down the street, their numbers falling one by one.

Ron's precise aiming brought down another of the machines. Just seven or eight of them remained, with dozens of soldiers surrounding them.

The machines fell back steadily, and the soldiers progressed. Within seconds, all of the robots were struck down, their metal bodies torn by the soldiers' hail of bullets.

Without waiting, the crowd of men charged across the street. They were now streets away from the White House.

They slowed down as they made their way into a junction at the end of the road.

Large groups of machine soldiers were lingering about the junction. Men in black coats could be spotted amidst them.

The soldiers dove to the side of the road as gunfire erupted from all sides.

"Take cover!" Lillard yelled from the front.

The men hid themselves behind pillars, vehicles and other spots in the large road. Loud gunfire raged in the air, mixed with the sound of bullets hitting tarmac.

Staying covered, the soldiers exchanged fire with the robots guarding the junction.

Ron was squatting behind a pillar, reloading his rifle. Adrenaline rushed through his body as he aimed at the enemies stationed about the place and fired away.

_____________

In a submarine far away, General Carson stood with a piece of paper in his hands. He had just taken the paper from the fax machine in front of him, and printed upon it was an order from Washington.

Carson's eyes slowly moved across the entire page. A few long seconds passed as he read what he saw in the paper and re-read it. A scowl had settled over his eyes.

For a moment, General Carson wondered if he were seeing correct.

Lowering the page, Carson stared at the wall in front for the space of a second. Licking his lips, he turned and headed down the long corridor.

He arrived at a small room at the end of the corridor with a group of people working around a large desk of controls. There were a bunch of small screens situated about the desk, showcasing graphs and imagery.

Carson walked upto one of the men sitting there, and tapped him by the shoulder. Taking a deep breath, he softly said, "We've gotten orders."

The man nodded, turning back to the screen in front. "Tell me, sir."

"Register these co-ordinates in the system." Carson said. Looking into the paper in his hand, he read out all of the co-ordinates. The man entered them all into the computer one by one. This submarine was the control centre for all of the US's nuclear warheads, which were stored in bases around the country.

Having entered the co-ordinates, the man turned to Carson.

Carson was biting the bottom of his lip as he stared in front silently. He nodded and told the man, "Launch all of our nuclear warheads to these co-ordinates."

The man blinked. There was no change in his focussed demeanour, but he sat still for a few moments.

He gave a nod, and began working on the controls before him. A minute later, he had activated all of the nuclear weapons and just needed to give a final command to launch them.

Turning sideways, he said, "All nuclear missiles activated and ready for launch sir. Requesting confirmation for the launch."

"Command confirmed." said Carson. "Launch them."

The man turned back ahead, seeming to think for a small moment. And then, he pressed the button to initiate the launch.

_____________

All over the country, nuclear weapons that had been stored safely were blasting off into the air. From warships, ground bases and submarines, the country's entire batch of nuclear warheads had been launched. The missiles went cruising through the air, all of them leaving a thick trail of smoke behind them.

The missiles ripped forth at unimaginable speeds, spreading over the world towards their destinations.

_____________

Malcom sank into a chair, a whirl of nausea inside of him. Standing at the centre of the room, Falon threw his head back and laughed. The armed men standing by the side were grinning.

"You monster." Malcom whispered, his fists clenched.

Still chuckling, Falon shook his head.

"You are the monster, Mr President." His voice dropped softer. "You and your government. We're here to liberate life on Earth from the atrocities of the system."

"You've destroyed entire cities!" roared Malcom. "lain waste to entire lands, and wiped out hundreds of millions of lives!"

"Something you were equally capable of." said Falon bluntly. "All that was needed was a mild push from our side. We have worked behind curtains to reveal to you what you really are."

He slowly stalked forward towards Falon.

"The entire world had been played, made pawns before us." Falon stopped a few feet before Malcom. "Do you see now, just how helpless and pathetic you all are? The entire human race... weak, gullible and incapable. Order and true authority needs to be brought at all costs."

Malcom was breathing deep, attempting to quell the rage of emotions within him. He sat with his hands clutched to the back of the chair, looking at the floor in front of him.

"History will remember this day," Falon turned and strutted across the hall. "as one where the old order was burnt to the ground, paving way for the dawn of a new one."

The sound of heavy gunfire came from outside...

A current of shock went through the room. Falon slowly turned to look outside the window, as did Malcom.

_____________

"Come on men, fire!" Lillard yelled, as the soldiers battled the enemy forces on the street outside the White House. They were taking cover behind vehicles, buildings and anything they could find. The machine warriors opposite to them were sheltered behind vehicles as well.

The US soldiers were slowly pushing forward, their sheer force managing to heave off resistance. Ron was taking cover behind one of the houses in the lane, his teeth gritted. Two more soldiers were positioned here along with him, and they together sent a wave of gunfire down the street.

A sense of focus and fury drove Ron's mind forth. His precise aim had helped to take out a few of the robots across the road, and he continued firing ruthlessly. Sparks flew as the shower of bullets met parked vehicles in between. The road and pavement exploded in dust and debris, as the gunfire hit them as well.

The robots on the other side were faltering, slowly drive driven back at the might of the army. A handful of them were remaining, and they were retreating.

The soldiers advanced quickly, their wave of gunfire tearing through a few more of the machines.

One of the men tossed two grenades at a group of robots at the centre. Before the machines moved, a powerful explosion ripped through the place. Ron bent down and covered his ears. Shrapnel and debris sprayed into the air. The soldiers emerged and dashed forward towards the White House. They shot down the few remaining robots in their way, charging forward in fury.

_____________

The three thousand nuclear warheads were gliding gracefully, drawing their paths through the cloud-soaked skies. Their tails blazed with bright orange light, propelling them forward at a magnificent speed. A streak of white fumes coloured their path.

The three thousand missiles were making their way to various destinations across the planet. Dozens of them had almost reached their target, with just a minute or so to spare...

_____________

Falon was standing beside Bertha, the knife in his hand. By the side of the room, the armed henchmen were looking out the window, listening to the fighting going on outside.

Malcom was sitting with his hands behind the chair, his shirt wet with perspiration. Complete silence filled the large hall as the armed men and Falon tried to discern what was going on outside.

A few seconds passed, and then the door of the White House below could be heard blasting open. Stomping feet and loud voices came from below them.

The soldiers were here.

Falon's henchmen rushed towards the stairway and descended, attempting to fend off the army men.

Malcom's mind reacted instantly. He rose and leapt towards the back of the room, throwing himself behind one of the large desks. Shots rang out across the hall as Falon fired at him. Keeping himself hidden behind the desk, Malcom wrenched the drawer of the desk open. A small personal handgun lay inside it.

Falon shot continuously at Malcom, so that scraps of wood burst from the top of the desk.

Malcom waited for a moment, inhaling deep. The wave of shots paused as Falon's gun ran out. Leaning out from the left of the desk, Malcom aimed and fired.

Two bullets buried in Falon's chest, sending him staggering. He stumbled and crashed to the floor.

Malcom waited behind the table for a second, breathing slowly.

Hoisting himself up, he strode up to the body of the CIA director. Two dark blotches spread over Falon's shirt, and his chest rose and fell slowly... He was still alive.

His voice came as a slow rasp.

"Long... live... the brotherhood."

And with that, his entire body grew still, lying motionless on the ground.

## ~

The three thousand nuclear missiles streaked across the sky at different parts of the world.

About two dozen of them, all directed at cities in Canada, Mexico and the upper region of South America, were almost there.

One of the warheads, which was aimed at Toronto, was now a few seconds from its target. The warhead sank towards the ground as it drew closer to the target. The curtain of clouds thinned, allowing the vast spread of buildings below to grow clearer. The warhead streaked through the lower reaches of the sky, waiting to land and decimate everything below.

_____________

Ron, Lillard and April were moving through the floor of the White House, which was now secured. A few of the gunmen whom they had encountered after entering the building were also eliminated.

While the remaining soldiers lingered there to check the ground floor, the three of them flew up the stairs to the second floor. They arrived at a massive hall on the second storey with the president talking on the phone at the other end.

The three of them briskly walked towards President Malcom as he spoke to someone on the other side of the line.

"This is a critical response." he was saying. "Trigger the emergency de-activation of all our warheads immediately."

With that, he hung up and lowered the phone.

_____________

The missile was shooting over Toronto, its arc gently taking it towards the ground...

Suddenly, the flame at the tail of the missile flickered and died. The warhead, which had been propelled across thousands of miles, lost speed rapidly. As it went soaring forward, its altitude dropped quickly.

A few seconds latter, the warhead had smashed through a massive building in construction. It tore through the large structure harmlessly, before flying out from the other end and plunging to the ground. A web of cracks spread around the spot where the warhead had crashed. It remained motionless on the ground, a harmless piece of metal that was now inactive and neutralised.

_____________

All over the world, the three thousand other nuclear missiles had also met the same fate. Every single one of them halted in its tracks, plunging towards the ground. A majority of the missiles hit the vast ocean-bed, which swallowed them peacefully. Some others were flying over land when they lost altitude and crashed harmlessly into cities or jungles.

All of them had been de-activated, and were now large blocks of metal capable of no destruction.

## ~

President Malcom was huddled along with his wife and daughter by the corner of the room, with the army-men standing about them. They were talking to him and his family, making sure they were all right.

April and Ron stood at the centre of the room, looking down at the body of Falon. Lillard was beside them, while his other men roamed about the massive hall and checked the place.

It was over. The battle was fought... and won.

"Not one of our typical CIA operations, eh, April?" Lillard asked, looking at April.

"Not one bit." April said, smiling.

"Good job, soldier." Ron said, looking at Lillard.

"Same to you, pal." Lillard said.

The three of them gazed down the hall, watching the troops console the President's daughter and wife. One of them was bending down before Bertha, patting her by the back.

The President sat there with his teary wife beside him, nodding at the troops. He looked shaken, but all right.

"So what plans do you guys have now?" Lillard asked, turning to the two of them.

"Nothing that involves shooting people." April said.

Lillard gave a short laugh.

"But if you do," He smiled, shifting his gaze between April and Ron. "You know we're here to lend you a hand."

Ron was frowning, his gaze on the opposite wall.

"Actually, there is something that I've personally got in my list." he said. "But I'd like to take care of this on my own."

The three of them remained there with the rest of the soldiers as they checked the building and attended to the President's family.

## ~

Marianne Silva felt a wisp of emotion as she came back to her large office. The table in front of her was clean, with a few files stacked by the corner. Marianne looked out the window by the right, enjoying the silence for some time. The bright morning sun could be seen between the row of buildings outside, its golden rays streaming through the clouds.

On the wall opposite to her, the TV was on and voices could be heard from it.

Marianne's thoughts flowed over the events of the past day or two. The most dangerous few days in the history of the world...

She felt an incredible sense of relief, mixed with a heartbreaking sorrow. They had managed to avert a devastating catastrophe... But they had still taken casualties.

San Diego...

As soon as the siege of Washington ended and the nuclear missiles were de-activated, Marianne had been brought back to the US on a government plane. She immediately used her powers as the mediator to bring the American and Russian governments to a clear understanding of what had happened, explaining how they had all been deceived and driven to this point by the well co-ordinated actions of a dark power...

The conflict along the red-line had been brought to a stop.

Marianne continued to look out the window, admiring the beauty of the city awakening to life and dawn.

She knew that in time, relations between Russia and the west could be restored back to normalcy. The world could now return to peace...

Bringing her attention back into the room, Marianne looked at the TV screen on the opposite wall.

A news conference was shown, with the President giving a live speech to them right now. The White House was shown in a separate frame, with a half lowered flag.

"At this hour, the entire country stands as one." Malcom's voice was confident as he addressed the nation from the podium. "We lay down our heart's great tribute to San Diego and grieve for the lives lost. We mourn... But from the chaos of the past few days, our spirits have come together as one. United, stronger and more resolved. Never before have we been so determined about the vision we have, for justice and peace, both here at home and around the world. Never before has the way ahead been more clearly illuminated than ever. Out of this tragedy, we vow to emerge more fervent and stronger than ever. Ready to stand up for the values of this great nation and protect peace... all over this Earth. Our hearts are filled with a new purpose, and we step into the new day with renewed courage." A warm smile illuminated Malcom's face, as he looked into the camera. "God bless you all, and God bless the United States of America."

Marianne picked up the remote lying on her desk and switched off the TV. Smiling, she pulled her chair closer and prepared to begin work.

## ~

Threads of green vapour pleasantly hung about the room. Eyra was standing in the dark chamber, his hands behind his back. He was looking down the desert sprawl through the window in front.

He was thinking about everything that had happened. He calmly gazed outside while his mind rolled over the events.

Eyra hadn't expected them to fail. But neither was he shaken or distraught.

Their building was now almost empty, with most of their agents having left to hide elsewhere.

Eyra closed his eyes and breathed slowly, relishing the cool stream of air that flowed into his lungs. The green vapour's powerful incense touched his senses, leaving a cleansed feeling within him.

Opening his eyes slowly, Eyra continued to look out the window in front. He could feel his lips slant in a smile.

"So, you've come at last." he said, without turning. "I thought you would."

Slowly, he turned and looked down the hall. A figure was slowly emerging from the entrance, his silhouette drawing clear through the darkness.

Ron was wearing the same focussed look that Eyra remembered seeing during all of his missions. He paused in front of the entrance, his eyes fastened over his old mentor.

The two men stood on either sides of the hall, their eyes locked over the silence. Master and apprentice...

Eyra felt a low chuckle emanate from his throat.

"I knew you were a force to reckon with." he said. "I knew that if you were truly focussed on it, you could derail our entire plan. That was why I was so intent on hunting you down. Because you were the only person who could come in our way..." An old fire flashed in Eyra's black eyes. "You, Ron, are testament to the brotherhood's greatness."

"The brotherhood's greatness?" Ron whispered. A prolonged silence followed, while the two of them stood where they were, watching each other closely.

"I'm sorry, Eyra." Ron said softly. "But I'm nothing like you... I'm not a part of your madness."

Eyra laughed quietly, standing where he was with his hands behind him.

"You've brought so much carnage to this world." A steely anger seeped into Ron's voice. "I trusted you with my life. I had no idea what was really going on... what I was being used for. I had no idea of the madness that was being raised through me."

"That's because you are just like the other small minded people held hostage by this very system." Eyra said. After a long moment of silence, he turned and stood facing the window behind.

"A long time ago, the two of us were here in this same building together, and we worked as one towards a just goal." There was a tinge of emotion in Eyra's voice. Buried along with a sense of betrayal. "I thought that you would share my vision, and help me complete it."

Slowly, he turned over and brought his eyes to Ron.

"I was mistaken," he said. "You were responsible for the contrary."

His voice growing softer, Eyra said, "Our brotherhood has existed as a check against human corruption for decades now. There is no peaceful way to end man's oppression upon himself. A thorn can only be removed by another thorn. But what we lose today, we gain a hundred fold tomorrow." He was standing still, a thin black figure blending in with the darkness embracing his surroundings. "Humanity was headed for self-destruction. A civilisation moving into decay and degradation. People like you would have us stand aside and meet our inevitable doom at the hands of our own demons."

"I don't care what you think you were saving us from, Eyra." Ron's voice was soft. "Even if it really was doomsday that you were fighting... I know I would much rather be on the other side guarding it."

The light from the window caressed one side of Eyra's face, while the other side remained doused in shadows.

Ron took a few slow breaths, his eyes on his enemy. He was here at last... to fulfil the promise he had made to himself a long time ago.

"Well," Eyra's lips parted in a smile. "you're here to kill me, aren't you?"

The silence between them built heavier, as they stood glaring at each other.

Ron gripped the handle of the sword behind him, drawing the blade slowly. A steely hiss filled the air, as metal left its sheath. Tightening his hold on the weapon, Ron brought it before him.

Across the hall, Eyra gazed at him quietly, the smile still on his lips. There was a strange glitter in his dark eyes.

He drew his own sword from behind him, the same slender rapier. He held the sword before him, his eyes fixed with his opponent's.

The two of them stood where they were for a long moment.

And then, with a powerful roar, Ron launched forward towards the man he hated...

He ran across the room, his blade raised. Eyra stood where he was, as his opponent came charging at him.

Cling! The thin sound pierced the air as their blades collided.

Ron's sword was locked with his enemy's, and the two of them held their ground. Eyra released his blade, and then slashed at Ron from the side. Ron parried the shot and sent a jab at his enemy which was deflected as well.

Eyra sent a series of quick, powerful slashes at Ron. Ron's mind was gripped with a sense of focus and rage, and he fought back fiercely, dodging and parrying his enemy's sword.

The world around them seemed to shimmer and blur as the two of them pounced back and forth in a ferocious fight.

Ron moved back and forth, his sword swinging towards his enemy and back again. Eyra's face was alive with a snarl, and he allowed his blade to whirl in a deadly fashion, striking and retreating at his old foe.

Ron knew that this was no ordinary opponent. Eyra moved in an uncanny speed, his blade soaring back and forth like a slithering snake.

Ron's eyes were unblinking as he duelled, his mind clear and unobstructed. He had kept all of his anger reserved and contained, waiting for this day. And now, he allowed the emotion to power his mind, directing him forward with a ruthless new force.

Eyra's sword was flying towards and away from him, while Ron blocked and struck back relentlessly.

Their sword locked, and sparks flew in the air. Ron watched his enemy from over their blades, and thrust all of his force forward.

Caught off guard, Eyra lost his balance and went stumbling back. He slammed to the ground, his sword clattering on the floor away from him.

He lay where he was calmly as Ron slowly walked up before him.

Ron stood over his fallen enemy, feeling the inner anger ignite his expression. Eyra gazed up at him, not a trace of fear in his face.

This was the moment that Ron had been working for. The pain and the anger... This was the time to release it...

Ron raised his sword high over the air, preparing to bury it into the man below.

Eyra didn't look away...

A roar came from Ron's lips, and he swung down ferociously with the blade.

The sword sank deep, and then stopped.

Eyra slowly opened his eyes. Ron's sword had buried itself on the floor right next to him. A slight quiver went through the blade as it lay sunken in the ground.

Ron was squatting before the sword, his chest heaving rapidly.

His eyes were on Eyra, who was staring back at him for a long moment. The man lay back and laughed loudly, his voice echoing inside the large hall.

"You can't do it..." he said, looking at Ron.

Ron continued to pant for a second, before saying, "I've brought enough violence under you. I've got enough blood on my hands."

Releasing his sword from the ground, he rose and sheathed it. Eyra lay where he was, still laughing.

A few seconds later, Ron had tied the man up with chains that he found in the large room. His hands and legs were locked tightly and he lay on the ground as he was.

Bringing out his phone, Ron dialled for the authorities in the country.

"There's an internationally wanted terrorist subdued and held inside of your territory." he told the police officials on the other side of the line. He gave them the exact location of this building in the desert that they were in.

Receiving the details, the police officers hung up. They would be here within minutes to get hold of a most wanted criminal who was currently being hunted by the US, Russia and authorities around the world.

"You're not capable of this, Ron." Eyra said, laughing, as he lay on the ground tied up. "You're just like the others... and you will never bring true change to this world."

"See you later, master." Ron nodded at the thin man tied up on the ground. Turning over, he strode towards the entrance of the room.

The room behind him continued to echo with loud laughter.

Without looking back, Ron strode out of the entrance and made his way down the dark corridor. The sound of laughter began to fade as he reached the stairway at the end of the corridor. Ron made his way down the stairs towards the ground.

_____________

Somewhere in the middle of the desert, a young woman was waiting. April looked in front of her at the large structure that was visible far off ahead. She saw a thin dot emerge from the structure, walking down the desert. Ron made his way across the sands slowly, his figure growing clearer as he approached.

Five minutes later, he had reached her.

"You found him?" April asked him.

"Yeah," Ron said. "He's all for the authorities now."

The two of them made their way down the desert sands. The ocean of dunes rose and fell in a rhythmic pattern, sprawling over the ground all the way towards the horizon.

"You're a good man, Ron."

Ron grinned.

The two of them strolled forth in peaceful silence for some time.

"So what are you gonna do now?" asked Ron, looking at the ex-CIA agent.

April was quiet for a second, her eyes on the horizon.

"Anything," she said softly. "as long as I'm no longer a part of that system."

Ron looked at her, fascinated at the change she had embraced in just the past few days.

"What about you?" April asked him.

Ron chuckled.

"I'm still a criminal." he said. "I'll spend my time visiting places, seeing the world... evading cops while I'm at it."

April smiled.

"We're a good team." she said.

"Indeed we are." agreed Ron.

"Keep in touch with me wherever you go." April told him. "Anytime you need intelligence inputs, I'll feed you whatever I know. And if you ever need help, just dial my number."

"Thanks, Rhodes." Ron looked at her and smiled.

And the two of them continued walking down the vast desert, making their way across.

_____________

