Daggers in the Dark
The guys grabbing him waved off with a grin. “Today was really fun! See you next time, mister!”
“Yeah, glad you had a good time. Take care getting home, ma'am.”
“Thanks. Well then...”
In a theme park on the outskirts of London, an eight-year-old girl waved goodbye as she rode off in a taxi with her mother. The one she waved to was a hulking man with a menacing face—black hair hanging like seaweed, dark circles around his eyes, and cybernetic modifications visible all over his body. But right now, he wore the warmest, most affable smile.
Once the taxi carrying mother and daughter vanished from sight, his face snapped back to its usual gloomy, hollow blankness, as if the smile had never been there. He turned and walked away.
“How long do I have to keep living like this...”
On his way back to his hideout, the man veered into a deserted alley. Time for a smoke, he thought. He pulled out a cheap cigarette, lit it with a lighter, and took a drag. The nicotine, sweeteners, and trace synthetic drugs burrowed into his brain, soothing his nerves.
As he exhaled a plume of smoke, a shadow fell over his head. He ignored it, puffing away with his eyes downcast. Then a familiar voice drifted down from above.
“Long time no see, Demir. You look like you're doing better than expected.”
“...”
Whoosh! The shadow leaped down from the alley wall, landing lightly on the pavement nearby. Only after finishing his cigarette did Demir look up. The woman who had called his name so casually had green hair and wore a black suit, with ring-shaped goggles around her eyes. Of course, he knew her face.
His ears were buzzing—probably from a noise-cancellation field in the area.
“Why the hell aren't you answering the chief's calls?”
“Because assholes keep trying to kill me, so I'm on the run, Kali.”
“For someone on the run, you sure spent a fun day with the family.”
“Shut up and get to the point.”
Demir growled. Kali ignored him and pressed on.
“Strategic Intelligence needs you right now. The chief personally guarantees reinstatement and full pardon.”
“Because of that clusterfuck in Acton? Word's spread all over the bounty hunter networks.”
“We'll be busy cleaning up after. Any rumors on why it happened?”
“Nah, just whispers it's war cleanup. Classified?”
Kali sighed in relief, patting her chest.
“Phew... good. Truth is, Elson's heir slipped through our fingers. Some mercenaries and investors he tangled with banded together for payback.”
“You bitch. You don't drop sensitive shit like that without asking if I wanna hear it. Here to die?”
“Don't act like an amateur. You know you don't have a choice.”
“Shut it, before I really kill you.”
Demir fished the crumpled cigarette pack from his pants pocket. He went to light another, but Kali snatched the whole pack and stomped it under her heel.
Demir blinked in surprise, scowling. But Kali quickly shoved a sleek cyan-and-white pack into his hand—a premium brand he'd smoked back in his active days.
“Intelligence is in deep shit right now. You know there were two purges before and after the war. If this goes south—”
“Third purge comes calling. Shoulda done your jobs right then.”
“How the hell are we supposed to excel when they've purged the org down to the bone?”
“Not my problem.”
“Special Ops might wipe us out themselves! Think about what happened to our kidnapped colleagues...”
Kali shuddered at the thought. Demir ignored her, lighting up one from the new pack. The smooth, heavy draw sent a shiver through him—worlds apart from the cheap crap.
“Anyway, we need someone reliable and half-insider like you. Senior.”
“Senior my ass. How the hell am I supposed to nab a kid surrounded by bodyguards solo?”
“That's where your persistence comes in. Can't do it? Then we can't protect your family anymore.”
“...What?”
Thud! Demir flung his cigarette to the ground and grabbed Kali by the collar, slamming her against the wall. He glared at his old intel colleague, roaring through gritted teeth.
“You fucking pricks agreed not to touch my family...!”
“Kek! Heh heh... calm down. We're not touching them. Just cutting support.”
“Support?”
“After you quit, who's been letting your family live in company housing and use the employee welfare programs? Our generous chairman. But if you betray the company...”
“Screw it. Company or not, I'll take care of them myself.”
“Pfft. Sure you will. Plus, plenty of people want your head. Suddenly moving the family in with you...”
Smack!
“Kgh...”
Demir released her collar and shoved her against the wall. He turned away, biting his lower lip, then let out a long sigh. Kali, slumped from the impact, grinned as she read his resignation in it.
“...What do I have to do?”
“Bring Elson's heir, Earl Straford William Wentworth, to the City. Policy's live capture, but dead works too.”
“Kill a noble? ...Fine. Family safety and support guaranteed even if I fail?”
“Think about full reinstatement and perks on success first.”
“Shut up and send intel and files via comms. I'm beat—heading out.”
Demir turned his back on Kali and walked out of the alley. Once he was far enough, the buzzing in his ears faded, replaced by the murmur of passersby. Before stepping onto the main street, he stared at the cyan pack in his hand. Then he smashed it on the ground and stomped it viciously. Only when the contents scattered and the box was ground into the pavement did he dry-wash his face and move on.
The Grand Duchy of Luxembourg. A small nation bordering Germany, France, and Belgium. Its capital, Luxembourg City—named after the country itself—was a living history blending Baroque opulence, Gothic grandeur, and the sleek curves of glass skyscrapers.
But the figure gazing down from one of those towering spires seemed unimpressed by the aesthetic splendor. Anastasis's Special Operations Chief was too focused on herself.
Pretending to be the governor here, this was the headquarters of Vulcan Industries—the subsidiary where Elson had attempted a hostile takeover, sparking the war. Crushing the enemy main force in this primary battlefield had turned the tide, a personal triumph. Her interim tag was about to come off; the top security exec spot was within reach.
And now, her rival in Strategic Intelligence was fumbling. How could she not savor it?
Knock knock.
“Chief. Report to make.”
“Come in.”
A glowing eye in the darkness impassively watched the subordinate enter. The blue-uniformed officer reported flatly.
“Elson's heir slipped Strategic Intelligence's grasp.”
“Idiots. Can't catch a break when it's handed to them.”
“And Climidocampus was destroyed in the process. Congratulations.”
The shadow in the dark twitched faintly. The secret weapon Strategic's chief had desperately built to nab her—destroyed. A smirk was in order. Sure, she'd dismissed it as a toy, but curiosity stirred. Its specs weren't pushover-level; at least on par with her daggers, the elite agents under her command.
“Elson had some hidden cards, huh? Or maybe that armless samurai who fled.”
“No. William Wentworth handled it himself.”
“...Who did you say?”
The impassive eye widened slightly with intrigue. Their top target, but low-rated as a fighter—him pulling that off? Hard to believe. Yet that's what hooked her curiosity, even if it was in London, outside her turf.
“How's Intelligence covering this?”
“Contacting a retired agent they rate highly to kidnap the earl who fled to Slough.”
“Sloppy. Way too sloppy.”
Against someone who'd taken one of their top cards? That response was insultingly weak. Made her wonder if they had some ulterior motive.
“Slough's Transco turf, so maybe playing cautious?”
“Yeah, whatever. Don't care about their mess.”
She chuckled inwardly at the adjutant's guess. Tail-cutting pawns could only perform so much. Tossing weak pieces into a restricted ops zone? Lose without gain. Their pathetic response even gave her ammo against any overreach claims—perfect. Not that she saw it as overreach.
“Got it. Anything else?”
“Rest's in writing on your terminal. Review by EOD.”
“Will do. Dismissed.”
The officer saluted and left. She'd auto-approve the reports anyway. The chief turned back to the cityscape, murmuring into the quiet office.
“William Wentworth, pulling off something that cool and then hiding with Transco...?”
She wanted to check him out herself, but duties here pinned her down. Still, she had gifts to send in her stead. Better to charge ahead and claim the prize than dither. Yes—this lax situation needed a shock to inject tension. A game-changer, paradigm-shifter.
Special Ops Chief and Scream Harvester decided to stir up chaos in Slough—for William hiding there. She could spare one dagger for the earl who'd caught her eye.