by Ammar Habib
The burnt man’s emotionless eyes looked down at the helpless president. “I require a word with you.”
“You have my attention,” Villanueva obediently and dryly responded against his volition.
“You are doing well with keeping up the timetable.”
“The princess will be arriving at Crown City in less than 72 hours. By tomorrow night, I will leave the capital and return there as well to prepare for her arrival.” Villanueva paused. “Will our man be in position to terminate her?”
“You need not concern yourself with my master’s assassin. Jaing will be there.”
“Where is he now?”
“Preparing to finish off another piece of the puzzle in the nation of Ariez.”
“Is it Prime Minster Torres?”
The burnt man did not answer.
“When Jaing arrives,” Villanueva continued, “I’ll give him all the manpower he needs to carry out the assignment.”
“That’s why we have you under our control.” The burnt man paused. “But what of the new Guardian? Do you know who is behind the mask or were you being truthful to the reporter?”
“I know it’s not Jonathan Daniels. And there’s nobody associated with Ethan who has the skills to carry that mantle… nobody alive at least. But it doesn’t matter. He’ll be at the airport when the princess arrives. I doubt that Jaing will have any problems taking him out. After all, this new Guardian is a skilled warrior, but he is not in Ethan’s class.”
“The mission will be dealt swiftly. And once it is, it will almost be time for the final move.” The burnt man’s eyes suddenly turned dark red. “Once the princess is dead, only one more assassination will be required. Then all the pieces will be in place… and Daken will reveal himself to the world.”
***
Being here again felt like a dream. Ethan moved towards the spot he remembered all too clearly. His eyes steadied on it and his mind blocked out everything else. It was the place he once stood when he first saw his future sister. With every step, he came closer and closer before finally stopping on it.
Déjà vu nearly knocked him off his feet, and he saw everything as it was on that fateful day. He was wearing the same dirty clothes. A short, rough beard covered his chin. His body was drenched in sweat. All around him was destruction, pain, and suffering.
Looking down at the base of a wall, he again saw Naira sitting there. With her back against a lone-standing barrier, Naira’s face was buried in her knees and her arms were wrapped around her legs. She was dressed in a dirty pink robe that ended at her ankles. He heard her sobbing, felt her pain.
Ethan kept his eyes on her. He began to slowly make his way towards Naria, taking in the feeling of each and every step. Her crying was just as real as it had been that day. And that need to go to her was just as strong. Reaching into his pocket, he felt something—something that had been given to him in days past, something crafted with Naira’s own hands before her death.
Arriving at the wall, Ethan looked down at her, but she did not look at him. It all felt so real as he relived the moment. He sweated uncontrollably, knowing that at any moment, she would look right up at him. Once again, he would see the helpless eyes of his sister and her tear-stained face.
And she did. Slowly, she sensed his presence, just like she did that day. Her eyes looked up at him. But right as their eyes locked, right as their gazes met, it all ended. She disappeared along with the mirage and reality replaced the memory. Once again, Ethan stood in the busy street, right in front of the wall of a butcher’s shop.
Every emotion he thought he would feel here coursed through him: sorrow, relief, nostalgia. He dropped down to his knees right next to where Naira had sat and took the item out of his pocket. It was Naira’s rainbow bracelet. The last one she ever made.
Unable to hold back his tears despite his best efforts, a sole tear rolled down his grizzled cheek. Ethan did not care right now. Using his free hand, he reached down and scooped up some dirt. Ethan took a deep breath… then another… and one more.
This was it.
“I love you, Naira. I want you to know that. A day will come when we will be together again—when we are reunited on the afterlife’s white shores. On those shores, all this will feel like a dream. We won’t remember any of it.”
His voice was filled with the love his heart still contained for his adopted sister. He never knew what it was about Naira that drew him to her. All he knew was that for the two years he took care of her, she meant the world to him.
Ethan placed the faded bracelet at the bottom of the bowl in the dirt. His eyes wanted to burst with tears, but he did not let any more escape him. It felt like he was burying her all over again. But it would be the last time. This time, he was not full of anger and vengeance.
He covered the bracelet with dirt before gently patting it down. He took another deep breath as his gaze stayed aimed at the ground. As quickly as it began, the one-man-ceremony ended. Slowly, the sorrow and tears left his eyes, and in its place was something else:
Hope.
A slight smile formed on the edges of Ethan’s lips. After a few long moments, a single sentence escaped him. “I’ll see you soon.”
Chapter 4
Approaching Threats
It was always sunny here. Even though it was winter in her hometown of Zimba, there was not a glimpse of it here at Govan Cove. The clouds were scarce, while beautiful seagulls gracefully glided in the sky and skimmed the waters. The fragrance of the cerulean ocean travelled for miles on end.
From this house on the cliff, Katrina held the perfect view of it all.
Her balcony was right outside the two-story home’s master bedroom. The azure and white walled building rested on top of the level cliff, overlooking the ocean to the west and the small, port town only ten miles to the south. A light brown roof covered the home, but it barely ever rained during the past year that Katrina lived here.
Katrina sat in a rocking chair that perfectly complemented the white balcony. Wearing an emerald-green dress that ended at her knees, she heard the gentle ocean waves as they crashed against the bottom of the cliff. From this distance, the small town looked like an ant colony. All the buildings were an assortment of whites along with different shades of orange. The entire place felt so peaceful and disconnected from the world.
Taking a deep breath, she looked down at the golden locket in her lap. She slowly flipped it open, revealing two pictures. The first was a picture of her late grandfather, the one who had raised her.
When she first arrived at Govan Cove, she could never bring herself to think of him. But something had slowly changed. Somehow, she found peace here. Maybe it was being married to Ethan. Maybe it was being detached from the world. Whatever it was, she finally came to terms with the fact that her grandfather’s death was not the end. They would be reunited on the afterlife’s white shores.
Slowly, her eyes drifted to the picture of her husband.
Ethan stared right back at her with those green eyes that visited her dreams countless times. His black hair was perfectly combed, and covering his torso was a buttoned-down, black shirt. Its sleeves were rolled up, revealing his forearms. His face held specs of facial hair, and his eyes held one thing: resolution.
Nearly three weeks had passed since they last spoke. He told her that he was heading into a warzone in Amaristan and would not be able to contact to her again until he found a solid trail to lead him to Daken, the monster he hunted.
Katrina slowly closed the locket. Putting the gold chain around her neck, she looked back out at the ocean. Ivan would return soon. He had headed off into town nearly two hours ago to stock up on supplies. Ever since Ethan left, Ivan never allowed her off the premises, always fearing that somebody in the town might somehow recognize her. After all, there were many people after Ethan and her now.
Her thoughts suddenly dispersed as she abruptly felt something.
Katrina’s head slowly turned, again casting her gaze i
n the direction of the town. But something was in the scene that had not been there before.
A man stood nearly a mile down the narrow road. Standing tnext to his parked and still-running jeep, he faced the direction of her home, his eyes concealed behind a pair of grey sunglasses.
Katrina slowly rose to her feet. There was something off about him. It was not the first time she’d caught someone observing her home from afar, but she knew that this was no ordinary viewer.
Even though he was far out, she felt his gaze on her as if he was watching her every move. However, before she could do anything, the man looked away. He got back in the drivers’ seat of his vehicle and lightly pushed down on the accelerator as he made a U-turn. Within moments, he was heading back towards the town.
But Katrina knew that it would not be the last time she saw him.
***
The sun neared its highest point over the Nigerian plains. Ethan lay on the bed of a truck, his face turned towards the cloudless sky. It was scorching, just like he remembered it. The truck continuously shook and vibrated as its ancient tires travelled down the unkempt road. The noisy engine sounded on the verge of giving in at any time. Covered in dents, the truck’s green paint no longer held any of its luminosity.
The old driver’s rough cheeks and chin carried a gray stubble, while the top of his head was bald. His clothes were worn. He kept a cigarette in his mouth and left the window rolled down. The interior of the truck was no better than the exterior. The two front seats held multiple tears. Trash remained scattered on the floor, the stench of cigarettes drenched everything.
Back in the truck’s bed, Ethan sensed a measure of peace. With his hand beneath his head and one knee propped up towards the sky, his supply bag rested next to him. By the time evening arrived, he would reach his destination. Then he would be one step closer to ending all of this.
However, right now, his thoughts were not on his mission. As he looked up at the heavens, all he could think about was one thing. Or—more specifically—one person: Katrina.
Weeks had passed since hearing her voice, but soon the wait would be over. Once he found and followed Caine to Daken’s soldier, he would make contact with her. It would not be long now.
Since their marriage, not once did a nightmare of Daken haunt his dreams. Ethan knew why. Closing his eyes, a memory entered his mind. Three weeks after the battle in Zimba with Vixen and her army, Katrina and he had arrived at Govan Cove. Ethan had stayed with her in his late grandfather’s secret summer home for almost a month and a half, letting himself heal from all of his wounds before embarking on his hunt for Daken. And the memory that now replayed in his mind was the recollection of his last evening with her.
The two of them were out at sea, nearly three miles from the sandy coast. On the deck of the off-white sailboat, they held a perfect view of the sunset. More than half of the orange and yellow sun hid behind the horizon. Its light painted the surrounding heavens and reflected off the clear, cerulean waters. There were no clouds to interfere with the sun’s last minutes of light. In the cobalt heavens, several seagulls glided across the evening sky, but the waning sunlight made it difficult to observe their features. As each moment passed, the sky gradually lost its light, but for now there was only beauty.
Their boat was not the largest on the island. A few weeks before, its exterior had been unblemished and immaculate. And although it was still in good condition, the marks on its outer walls showed how much it had been used these past weeks.
Standing at the ship’s helm, Ethan kept one hand resting on the auburn wheel. A pair of cargo shirts and a fitted shirt covered his body, but his feet remained bare. Right next to him, his wife rested her head on his shoulder. Her arm stayed wrapped around his back. She wore a yellow and white sundress that went a little past her knees, while her long locks were neatly pulled back in a ponytail.
The more Ethan observed the sun go down, the tighter his powerful grip around the wheel became. As beautiful as this moment was, he knew that it would not last forever. This would be the last sunset he would see next to his wife. At least, it would be for a while. And that thought alone placed an unbearable weight on his soul.
Ethan took a deep breath and let it out before turning to look at Katrina. Sensing his gaze, her eyes met his.
“Of all the sunsets we’ve seen, this one blows them all away.”
She smiled. “You took the words right out of my mouth.”
The boat continued to gently rock back and forth with the tranquil waters. “Maybe it’s the sun’s way of sending me of. One final view of it from our paradise”
“You mean, only until you return.”
Ethan nodded.
Katrina glanced down for a quick second. “Are you scared, Ethan?”
He slowly looked back at the last glimmers of light. “I’ve been scared since the day I came back from the dead. Scared of failing… scared of letting people down. But it’s only recently that I’ve become scared of dying.” His gaze returned to her. “And that’s because I finally have someone to live for.”
A glimmer entered Katrina’s eyes as she heard his words.
“And that’s why I know I’ll make it out of this alive. Because at the end of this last and final tunnel, I know what the light is: you.” He took her soft hand into his. “I know that Ivan will do everything in his power to keep you safe until I return. But I promise you this, Katrina: if anything was to happen to you, I would go to the ends of the earth to get you back. I would risk everything, everything, to bring you back to me.”
Looking into her husband’s eyes, she took his free hand into hers. “I know you’ll come back, Ethan. There is not a fiber in my body that doubts it. You are the greatest man I know. You are a warrior. And like all brave knights, you will come victorious.”
Under the fading lights, they embraced.
***
There was chaos on the streets.
Bodies littered one of the city’s main downtown roads. Prime Minister Torres’ motorcade was up in flames as the sleek, black limousine burned with a deathly rage. The vehicle’s windows were blown out by the bomb, its insides completely ablaze. The driver lay on the ground almost twenty-five yards in front of the carnage, his skin scorched.
But the prime minister was nowhere to be seen. He had not been thrown out of the vehicle by the explosion. Instead, he received the worst of the bomb, and his corpse now turned into ash inside the heart of the flames.
From glossy, black SUVs with tinted windows, numerous men in black suits rushed out. Guns in hand, they raced towards the carnage. Many of them held their radios close to their mouths as panic consumed their faces.
Minutes ago, hundreds of people had lined the sidewalks as Torres’ motorcade made its way towards the airport for his diplomatic mission. But now, those crowds of people fled the scene, their terror-filled screams loud enough to drown out the roar of the flames as they ran over one another. The few that stayed back gripped their phones as they filmed the unbelievable destruciton.
Tall skyscrapers towered above the scene from either side of the chaotic street. Behind their windows, hundreds of horrified onlookers witnessed the madness. They had all expected to see their beloved prime minister peacefully pass by them on his way to visit Crown City. Instead, they witnessed his death.
But one man calmly watched the scene.
A half mile down the road, on the rooftop of a high-rise skyscraper, an assassin stood observed it all. A fitted, auburn leather jacket concealed his torso, while a pair of expensive jeans covered his legs. His feet wore a pair of russet shoes and an Omega watch decorated his wrist. His short, brown hair sat perfectly trimmed as he sported his signature Lugano sunglasses.
He tossed the trigger to the side without a care. Even from this far away, his enhanced eyes observed every single detail perfectly. He watched the horror of the fleeing civilians. He witnessed the desperation of the secret service men as they tried to get the burning corpse out of the vehicle.
He read their lips and heard the curses as they swore to find whoever was responsible.
However, he knew that they would never catch him.
Within minutes, a perimeter would be set as the police and secret service would do everything in their power to find the assassin. But, like always, their inferior methods and minds would fail to his. After all, he was more than just an ordinary man. He was the second man who was responsible for killing Ethan Daniels’ father. And unlike Anthony Griffin, he survived that night even after blasting a hole right through Ethan’s ribs.
Walking towards the entrance to the building, he whipped out a phone from his jacket pocket and punched in a number without looking down at it. Putting it to his ear, he heard the voice of the scarred man.
“Is it done, Jaing?”
“Prime Minister Torres is dead. And our master’s agent has now been promoted from Vice Minister to the Prime Minister of Ariez.”
“Then we are one more step closer to our glorious destiny.”
“What’s left?”
“Two more missions. One is for you, Jaing. Princess Amelia will be arriving at the Crown City airport tomorrow night. And you will be her welcoming party.”
The edges of Jaing’s lips curled into a smile and his eyes turned red for a split second. Last time he was in Crown City, he killed the mayor, killed Ethan’s father, and shot Ethan right in his guts. “Crown City? How I’ve missed that place.”
“No doubt, you know who your targets are?”
“Of course. I’ve never failed Daken… and I won’t start that habit now.”
Chapter 5
A Time of Peace
The warehouse was always cold.