The Complete Assassin Episode 25

The Complete Assassin Episode 25

written by kayemjay

Steven watched helplessly as Sheila slowly and painstakingly adjusted the ropes of a small contraption that had been brought into the room. It was some sort of wooden bench but with a weird difference. It had some sort of extension on each side; top and bottom making it look like a reclining cross. She slowly went about fastening the ropes attached to the extensions. Whatever the contraption was, Steven feared it was going to make him talk eventually. He had a very bad feeling about it, and there was something else: Sheila’s courage and cool demeanor. Usually captors and torturers were always very animated, overly excited, and always eager to get out the information. Those kinds of people usually tired out before long, if they do not get the desired response. Sheila was calm, slow and calculated, raising the tension in the room. He could not hold it in for too much longer.

“What are you going to do to me?” Steven asked

Stella paused, stopped what she was doing and sat on the bench, facing him.  She smiled. For a few seconds she said nothing. She just kept looking into the eyes of the man who was supposed to be the deadliest assassin in this part of the world. She pitied him.

“Let me tell you a short story. After the 9/11 blasts in the United States, the president launched a strong, all-out attack against terrorism, particularly against Osama Bin Laden. In his quest to find him, he captured a few high profile generals of Osama’s cabinet. Now, when these men were captured, they did not yield to any form of questioning or mind tricks. Nothing the government tried worked on them. They refused to talk. The government could not use violence because it violated their human rights. So they were stuck in a lurch for a while. Until one method was used. It is called Waterboarding. It worked wonders. That, my dear friend is what you shall be experiencing in a couple of minutes.”

Sheila said getting up.

“Any questions?” she finished

Steven did not even blink.

Sheila tapped the door twice and the door opened. A large bucket of water was brought into the room by three strong hefty, deadly looking thugs.

Closing the door behind her, Sheila asked

“Shall we begin?”

*******

James began packing his stuff hurriedly into his knapsack. He put his ProBook lite, a routing transmitter, his GPS scanner and a few other tiny devices in the bag, while simultaneously wearing his shirt and pants. As he got out of the house he took one last glance at the living room to be sure that he did not forget anything that may be useful while in frenzied activity. He shut the door and pressed a button in the center of the door knob. The door locked securely. He went left heading towards the garage when he heard a honk from the opposite direction. It was Stella.

“I thought we were taking the car?” James asked, more of a question than a statement.

“Well, I changed my mind. I prefer the flexibility.” Stella replied, handing him a helmet.

She was seated on a Yamaha Power Bike, looking like a super model. Her jet black hair fell behind her shoulders, giving her a sensuous appeal. She had touched up her lips with mild pink lipstick. James felt like taking her back inside. He got to her and paused.

“What are you waiting for lady? Get on, perv.” Stella jibbed.

“Why would you call me that?” James asked feigning hurt.

“Don’t even try to pretend. I can read you like a book. Keep those thoughts out and focus James.” Stella warned. She tied her hair in a ponytail, covering her head carefully with the helmet. James wore his helmet too and adjusted himself properly behind her. Turning the ignition, Stella revved the engine several times savoring the sounds the engine made.

“Hold on tight.” She told James as she sped out of the compound and onto the street.

************

Detective Samson originally wanted to take the branded police SUV but quickly decided against it. He needed to be inconspicuous. He needed to be invisible. Going in the SUV would make him a screaming target. He decided to take his wife’s Kia Rio. The good thing was that the car had great handling and did not necessarily take up large space.  Breathing hard he said a short quiet prayer, started the engine and headed for Osborne.

As he drove out his compound, he caught a glimpse of his wife watching him from Caroline’s window.

“I am doing this for you my love.” He whispered to himself.

**************

Steven lay strapped on the contraption that Sheila had brought into the room. The huge thugs that entered the room had carried him off the chair and strapped his hands in opposite directions. The thugs were really not necessary. He was already weak and exhausted. Even if he had wanted to put up some form of resistance, he had no physical strength. Even his will was slowly and gradually dying off. Sheila came to him, standing near his head. She crouched low and spoke softly into his ears.

“Try not to choke. It won’t take long.” She finished and kissed him gently on the neck.

She made a signal and one of the thugs put a white cloth on his face, with his head titled slightly backwards. Using a jug, Sheila began pouring water on Steven’s face slowly and deliberately, concentrating on the nasal passages. Steven tried to hold his breath but it did not help. He felt like he was drowning and suffocating at the same time. He tried to breathe put water went into his nose and straight into his head. He tried to spit out the water, and even blow his nose but his head was titled backwards, his hands were tied and Sheila kept pouring the water.

At this point Steven began to struggle, his legs thrashing about and his hands trying desperately to free themselves from the shackles that kept them imprisoned. Just then Sheila stopped pouring the water.

She signaled to one of the thugs and the cloth was removed. Steven was finding difficulty breathing but the fresh air was welcome. Sheila bent his head forwards so he could let out as much water from his system and regain some strength. Gradually, Steven’s earlier labored breathing regularized. His eyes were fiery red.

“I can do this all day Steven. And the beautiful thing is, this torture won’t kill you. I know just how to maintain a balance. I can assure you, whether now or later, you will tell me what I want to hear. For your own good, pray it’s not when I have turned you into a vegetable. So, what’s it going to be?” Sheila asked.

Steven turned his neck to face her. He didn’t have much energy.  He spat on Sheila’s face

“Go 4ck yourself”

Sheila only smiled, wiping off the spit with the cloth. She got up, handing the cloth back to the thug.

“Very well then. I think we should step this up a notch.” She nodded to the thug.

He placed the cloth back on Steven’s face.

Sheila reached for the jug and filled it with water.

************

Sensei Marcus stared at the screen with intense interest. He watched as Steven battled for life under Sheila’s experienced torturing. The feed was also being watched live by two other Sensies appointed by the Guardians. He dared not flinch or show emotion. He had to be professional. However, he was nearing his threshold. He didn’t think Steven would last much longer. No matter what happened, it was important that Steven did not die.

Silently, secretly, he wished the detective would intervene as soon as possible.

Otherwise he would have no choice.

***********

“Argg, huhh, huh, argg” Steven gasped and groaned as he struggled.

This was the third water board attempt and this one was longer. Sheila poured the third jug of water, smirking as Steven struggled ferociously. Suddenly, Steven began to struggle less. His jerking reduced and he stopped making any sound. Seconds later he lay still. Sheila was unperturbed.  She had witnessed this so many times and had always provided a solution. This was not going to be an exception.

Calmly she spoke to the thug standing away to her far left.

“Hand me the defibrillator”

The thug handed her a device which she held, one in each hand.

“Raise the charge to the normal level” Sheila commanded.

The thug obeyed and then Sheila handed the device back to him. She opened Steven’s shirt, baring his chest. The thug held the device gingerly waiting for instructions from his boss.

“Charge. Clear. Shock.” Sheila commanded and the thug hit Steven’s chest lightly with the defibrillators. Nothing happened. The defibrillator screen recorded a flat line

“Charge. Clear. Shock.” Sheila commanded again.

The thug repeated the same motion, hitting the devices together and on Steven’s chest slightly harder this time around. Stil, there was no pulse.

“Give me that!” Sheila screamed at the thug, yanking the device out of his hands. She waited for a few minutes, and then spoke softly to herself.

“Charge. Clear. Shock.”

Sheila pressed the defibrillators on Steven’s chest and took them off, watching the screen. For seconds nothing came up. No reading. No pulse. Just as Sheila was about to panic, there was a small beep from the defibrillator screen.

The reading was coming through. Steven’s heart had begun to beat again. She could sense the relief in the room. The thugs literally heaved sighs of relief because they knew that if the interrogation had gone wrong, they would go down too. Sheila was pleasantly relieved but she did not show it. She put up a straight, stony face as she handed the device back to the thug.

“Prepare the other room. Make it neat and tidy. Have a drip ready. I need him moved out of here in five minutes.” Sheila commanded, getting up.

She straightened her dress and looked around the tiny room. There was nothing of interest to her. She opened the door to leave and one of the thugs made to follow her out. She looked at him with a deadly gaze.

“What do you think you are doing?”

“Following you ma’am. Staying on guard.”

Irritated, she pulled out a .43 silenced semi-automatic from behind her waist, aimed at the thug and shot him twice on the chest. His white shirt immediately turned red as he fell back to the ground, gasping and writhing in pain. Sheila walked a few steps towards him, and shot him twice again on the same spot. He stopped moving. She spat on his corpse.

“I did not tell you I needed an escort. Use your brains next time.” She barked at the dead thug.

Looking back to the two other thugs in the room, Sheila smiled.

“Does anyone else want to guard me?” She asked opening her arms sideways.

No response.

“My thoughts exactly.” She said. Pointing the gun to the guard that helped her with the defibrillator, she continued

“Hugo, go and set up the bedroom for Steven. One person is enough to tidy this place up. Make it very comfortable. Have Judith install a drip. He needs a lot of fluids to prepare him for the next round. You have less than five minutes.”

Hugo was almost tempted to remind her that she had given this same order a few minutes before, but he thought better of the idea when he looked at his friend’s body lying lifelessly by the wall. She had ruthlessly killed Bran without any form of provocation. Sheila’s reputation for having annoying and temperamental mood swings was legendary but this was the first time he was witnessing it first-hand. As she exited the room, Hugo repeatedly whispered Sheila’s instructions to himself a few times, making sure he left nothing out. He waited ten seconds after she had gone, then got up.

Just then Steven groaned.

*****************

Detective Samson parked the Kia Rio at a mechanic shop three minutes away from the estate gate. He paid the mechanic a large tip to watch his car, promising to be back within the hour. Walking quickly but smartly, he got to the gate, conversed with the guards and showed him his badge. Both guards immediately stood at attention, saluting a superior officer in the force.

“Oga we no know say na you o. As you just denge pose with this face cap we no even fit recognize you again o. Tuale baba.” said one of the guards.

“It is alright. At ease soldiers.” replied Samson

He made to enter the estate but the other guard tapped him softly.

“Oga mi. You know as e dey go for here na. Find something for your niggers na. Men never chop o. Shaun sir.” the guard said.

“Are you asking me for a bribe?” Samson asked, putting on a very serious, surprised and disappointed look.

“Oga mi, I will never ask for a bribe o. Why should I? It is against the law sir.”

“Francis Maduka. Are you sure you don’t want anything?” Samson asked rhetorically, his eyes fixed on the guard’s name tag.

“Nothing sir.”

“Good.”

He left them and proceeded into the Estate. Under normal circumstances he would have asked them for directions to the block he was headed. But the circumstances at the moment were far from normal. So he was going to search himself until he found it. Five minutes after walking around, he found it. He checked his wristwatch. He had left his wife thirty seven minutes ago. He thought about how broken she was and imagined her sitting by the bed, watching Caroline. The thought seemed to jolt him into action. He scrutinized the house. It was a simple building. Outside the building was a wooden fence not more than four feet high. There was no gateman. It was the last house on the close. The other houses before it had “TO LET” signs on them and were uninhabited.

He wondered who it was that lived here and needed to be extracted. He had different theories running in his head, but one kept overshadowing the rest. He felt that there was a hostage situation and he was to extract the kidnapped. He had no idea that he was actually very close to what was really happening.

Just as he scaled the fence, his phone beeped. The beeping was quite loud so he immediately hit his right pocket, silencing the phone before getting it out. He paused where he stood and observed his surroundings trying to see if his beeping phone had drawn attention to him. Satisfied that all was well, he turned attention to the phone. It was a text message. He opened it.

“Item is in second room by your nine o’clock. There may be a few hostiles. Entry code is the current time. Make sure your watch says the correct time in 24 hours GMT. Discard your firearm before entry.”

He needed no oracle to tell him who sent the message. How was he supposed to ward off the hostiles without a gun? The hostiles may be armed. He had no vest on and the only other weapon he had was a Gerber Mark II combat boot knife which was only deadly within close range. He had no choice. He found a spot outside the house where he could hide his gun. He went to the flower pot and dug the sand in it, buried his gun and closed the hole. Wiping his hands at the back of his jeans, he set his watch to the correct time. As he approached the door, he noticed the keypad by the right of the door. He moved to the keypad and was almost typing the time when he held back. It was a four seconds till 08:49. He decided that it was too risky. So he waited till the seconds ran down and the time changed to 08:50. Immediately the time changed, he typed the code. The keypad panel turned green. His heart beating fast, he turned the knob and went in. He moved fast. Recalling the coordinates that the text implied, he walked on the left of the corridor, keeping his ears open and his eyes very alert. He got to the first door. Listening for any sound coming from inside, he placed his left ear on the door. Nothing.

He continued moving. He passed an intersection in the house, went past a dining area and kept moving. He caught a glimpse of the second door. He had not heard a single sound since he got to the house so he threw caution to wind. He stepped out of the shadows and walked boldly towards the door. He was just a few meters from the door, when it opened.

Hugo had just finished checking up on Steven to ensure his vitals were okay and that everything was running smoothly. He opened the door and saw Samson strutting towards the door. Samson was shocked. Hugo was surprised. Hugo knew who he was. He had an AK-47 automatic hanging across his chest. There was an unspoken understanding between two of them and no doubt that none wanted a conversation. Only one of them would make it out. It lasted only a few seconds. Hugo reached for the trigger of his gun. In the same instant, Samson had crouched low, taking his combat knife from his boot. Before Hugo could aim, the detective had rolled to the left and launched the knife at Hugo. The knife landed in the middle of his forehead, sending him backwards.

As Hugo fell his finger pressed the trigger of the automatic rifle, creating a deafening sound and spraying bullets on the wall and roof.

“Sh1t!” Samson cursed.

***********

Sensei Marcus had rewired the outdoor camera such that only he had a view. Besides, the two Senseis sent by the Guardians were only interested in the torture and confession of Steven and not the activities going on it the safe house. So when Samson arrived at the gate, Sensei Marcus had seen him. He took out his encrypted phone, scrolled to the already drafted message and pressed send. He was so fast that the other Senseis had no idea what he had just done.

Samson was in the house and the alarms had not gone off. It meant that things were going as planned. He smiled. Steven would not die after all. The other Sensei’s in attendance nodded approvingly at him, mistaking his smile for the supposed success of the Steven’s capture and torture. They had no idea that he had plans to break Steven out and that was so amusing to him.

Seconds later, there were sounds of bullets being fired somewhere downstairs. Sensei Marcus was shocked.

“This was not meant to happen.” He whispered.

He had to act. He put his hand under the table and took out a gun. Turning to the Senseis, he said.

“I had really hoped it would not come to this.”

He pointed his gun at the Senseis. They were so shocked they could not move.

“Goodbye” He said and pressed the trigger.

*********

Sensei Marcus shot at the first Sensei. The bullet caught him on the neck, splashing blood everywhere. The second sensei was quick to react. He ducked under the table in front of him as Sensei Marcus fired at him. The bullet missed him by whiskers. The second sensei pushed the table down, turning it into a shield. He was unarmed but very skilled in the art of one on one combat. However, his knowledge of martial arts would do absolutely nothing against a gun. He crouched behind the table, hoping and praying for some sort of miracle that would get out of this situation alive. Instinct told him to get up and run.

There was nowhere to run to. It was a medium size room with only one door for entry and exit. Sensei Marcus walked towards him slowly, confidently. He pointed the gun at the sensei and pulled the trigger.

*****************

Detective Samson caught himself. He had been shocked to the marrow at the huge noise the AK 47 had made. He had reacted swiftly, going to ground impulsively and lying flat on his chest. As the gunshots died down, he got up quickly making his way to the room. As he stepped over Hugo and entered the room he saw Steven lying down on a propped bed, deep in sleep. He looked around the room. There was no one else. This must be the package the Sensei had desperately wanted him to extract, he thought to himself. Removing the drip from Steven’s wrist, he carried him on his shoulder and stepped out of the room. He stopped by the door to take out his knife lodged deep inside Hugo’s forehead.  He was halfway across the hall when he heard a voice.

“Stop. Don’t move. Drop him.”

The detective froze in his steps. He held Steven but did not drop him.

“I said drop him, Now!” the voice repeated.

Samson felt he could take her. It was a feminine voice. She did not sound so tough but she was at his blind spot. He needed to turn. To get a visual on her. His trained hand could hit a target twenty yards out. He was convinced she had some sort of weapon because her tone was very assertive. He needed to know what kind of weapon it was.  As he made to bend and drop Steven on the floor he heard a painful shriek accompanied by a loud thud. He turned instinctively.

Sensei Marcus had disarmed the lady with the gun and was now standing over her. He had one gun in his left hand pointed at her and another in his right pointed at him.

“What are you waiting for? Get out of here!” Sensei Marcus screamed at Samson.

Samson got up and half ran through the hall till he got to the door. His wrist watch was nowhere to be found. He needed the correct time to leave the building. Going back to search for his watch was not an option. Confused, he put Steven gently on the ground by the wall. He needed to act, and fast.

**********

Stella was driving the bike towards Block 14 Mariana Estate when she heard the gunshots.

James heard them too. Immediately, she increased speed and was in front of the house. Throwing caution to the wind, she got off the bike and scaled the wooden fence into the compound. She turned to look at James who stood by the bike, timid as a rabbit.

“Are you coming?” Stella asked

“I don’t think so. I would rather wait for you here, please.”

“Get over here.”  Stella barked pointing a gun at him.

He knew not to test her when she was in a feisty mood. She would not kill him, but she would definitely shoot him. He was not ready to find out what spot on his body she would choose as her target so he walked briskly to the fence, opened the pedestrian access and got in. Together, they walked to the front door where they had to key in the access to open the door.

“You are up Braniac.” Stella said nudging James forward.

James got to the door and inspected the access panel. He studied it for a few minutes, and then brought out a device from his knapsack. The device was palm sized and had a panel similar to the one by the door. He fiddled with the device for a while and then eventually four digits showed on the device on his palm.

“1010” James called out.

“Are you sure?” Stella whispered

“It is the default code for the device from factory, just in case there was a need for manual override.” James replied.

He moved closer to the panel by the door and keyed in the code. The LED on the device changed from red to green. Then he turned the knob. He almost screamed at what he saw.

Steven lay by the wall, looking like he was dead. Not too far ahead was his boss crouched by the wall, concentrating on some event happening in front of him. He held himself from screaming. Stella saw Steven too almost at the same time that James did. The first thing she did was to scan the perimeter, making sure there were no more hostiles. She did not care why Steven was there and who had gotten him beaten up. Her utmost concern was to get him out of the place. She motioned to James to get in and get Steven out of the place. James hesitated. The look Stella gave him made him change his mind. James could not handle a gun. If Stella gave the gun to him and decided to take Steven out herself, he would not be able to cover her.

As James groaned under the weight of the Shadow Prime, the detective turned.

***********************

The detective knew that fumbling with the lock would do no good. He might even trigger an alarm and who knows how many more people with automatic rifles that would summon. He decided it was better to go back and pick his wristwatch, that way he would get out, leave this dangerous place and get back to his family. As he thought about his daughter Caroline, he suddenly had renewed zeal and vigor to see the mission through.

Laying Steven down gently, he walked gently going back to the door. As he passed the first door, he heard voices. He quietly crossed to the right hand side if the room, where he could maintain a vantage point and see who was talking. He could see and hear them clearly now.

“Sensei? Why?” Sheila asked.

Sheila was on her back. She had been shot on the leg by Sensei Marcus and was bleeding profusely. Sensei still had a gun pointed at her.

“There is a war brewing my dear Sheila. And as wars go, there are always casualties. You got yourself in the crossfire. I am sorry, but you have to go.”

Sensei Marcus had grown to be fond of Sheila. However, he had gotten to the stage where he would not let anything interrupt his quest to bring down ShadowCorp. As he aimed at Sheila to finish her off, he heard someone groan. The detective heard it too and turned. Sensei Marcus shot Sheila twice on both shoulders, making her bleed more.

“Don’t move.Even though it’s just a flesh wound, the bullets are close to your joints.  If you do the bullet will rupture your sockets, causing you to experience excruciating pain. I will be back very soon.” He said and moved forwards to where the sound had come from.

At same time, the detective had taken out his knife and was about aiming at the intruder when he saw that it was James. His surprise knew no bounds.

“James? What on earth are you. . . “ He was saying when Stella entered aiming her gun at him.

“Hello Detective. Thank you but we will take it from here. James, move. Now!”

The detective did not lower his knife, neither did he move. Stella did not move too. They stood facing each other waiting for an opportunity to strike. James was rooted to the spot, too scared to lift a finger let alone carry Steven.

“I see you guys have gotten acquainted.” Sensei Marcus spoke from behind the detective.

Stella saw him. Samson could not turn but felt his presence. James managed to look up at the Sensei. He held two guns but he was not aiming at anybody. His previously hard stone cold face had vanished and he wore a warm, welcoming smile.

“Put the gun down Stella. He is with me. You too, detective.” He ordered.

They obeyed, gradually lowering their weapons.

“Now, you will have to work together. Three of you. Take Steven to his fortress. No one will find you there. I will join you. There have been some leaks in the plan and I have to tie up the loose ends. Make sure nothing happens to him. Samson, your daughter is . . .” Sensei  was saying when all of a sudden there was a gunshot.

Sensei Marcus gasped. Blood oozed from his chest. Then there was another shot. The bullet landed straight in the middle of his head. Blood splattered everywhere. He fell to the ground, lifeless. Sheila stood rooted to the spot. She aimed at Stella and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. There were no more bullets in the gun. Overcoming the initial surprise that gripped her, Stella aimed her gun and fired at Sheila who was trying to run away. The bullet missed her by a few meters. But the detective’s knife didn’t. He measured his aim and launched the knife at Sheila. It caught her on the right shoulder, connecting with the lodged bullet from the Sensei. She yelled in pain as she fell to the ground.

Bleeding seriously, she began to crawl towards the back exit of the building. Stella caught up with her. In anger, she fired all the rounds of her gun into Sheila’s body until she stopped moving.  She continued to fire at the lifeless body until the detective stopped her.

“It’s enough. She’s gone.”

Breathing heavily, Stella brought herself together and walked away from Sheila. She went back towards the main exit and did not even take a second look at Sensei Marcus’ body. Something in her had changed. Something had given way in her. James saw it too.

As they exited the building with the detective carrying Steven on his shoulder, Stella in front brandishing the gun like a commando and James behind the two of them, he knew Stella would never be the same again.

Two black tinted and customized Limousines moved in a convoy with a Cadillac sandwiched between them. There was no registration on any of the vehicles, just a simple SC. As the convoy approached the Estate gates, the guards flung the gates open without even bothering to ask for some sort of identification. As the last car went past the gate and into the estate, the back window pulled down and a wad of crisp notes was thrown on the floor. The guard ran quickly, picked the money and stood in salute until the cars were no longer in sight. He counted the money. It was a hundred thousand.

He was about to extract some of the money into his pocket when his colleague caught him.

“Francis, no try am o. I dey watch you with my korokoro eyes. As I dey look you like that oya just dey waka come straight. Baga like you!”

“Shakur, na wa for you o. Your blood too dey hot o. I just wan keep am na. So people no go see say I carry heavy money for hand.” Francis said, defending himself and smiling.

“So why e con be say na part of the money u been wan comot hide and not all? I was born before you my boy. You can’t deceive an elder.”

Francis had gotten to the guard post and handed the money to his commanding officer.

“You dey always shout say you be elder, you be elder. How many years you take senior me sef? You are just three years older. If no be say you be my Oga for here ehn . . .” Francis was saying when he was cut off by Shakur.

“Wetin for happen? You go beat me? My friend don’t be a bloody civilian!”

“Person wey hear you now go think say you follow them go fight for Liberia during the cold war. Fake Oga soldier wey dey do security.”

They both laughed. Shakur was about to share the money when a car honked at the estate gate. Francis left to go open the gate, while Shakur hid the money away from sight.

The cars moved slowly, one keeping an even distance from the other. The convoy was noiseless and direct. Minutes after taking a right, the cars stopped. There were at No 14. Two men got out of the first Limousine. They were tall, dark and broad chested both with dark shades on. Each of them had a white wire linked to his left ear. One of the men stood by the Limousine, his hands clasped together by this stomach. He was standing guard. The other surveyed the area. He walked the length of the fence, looking for anything that seemed suspicious. After minutes of prowling and satisfied that all was clear, he brought his left wrist to his mouth.

“All clear, Sensei Magnum.”

Two men alighted from the Limousine behind the Cadillac. They were dressed in suits and looked menacingly frightful. Both were over six feet tall, and held a shot gun. One of them went behind the limousine, resting his huge frame on the trunk of the car. He took out a cigarette and lit it. The other thug went to the Cadillac, opened the back seat door and moved aside.

He stepped out of the Cadillac. Light skinned, muscular body, with a tall frame Sensei Magnum stood beside the Cadillac. He had a black band covering his left eye. He wore a white shirt on white pants with a Mafia suit flowing behind him.  His shoes were white and had gold plating at the edge. He looked around. The area was quiet, with no one else in sight. The house was the last in the close. It made sense as a good base for their covert operations.

“Hmmm. So this is the place?” He asked no one in particular and then continued,

“Well then. Let’s say hi.”

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