Impact (Book 1): Regenesis

by Harrison Pierce

  Mizuno’s eyes flashed. “So you only joined this group so you would have the chance to find and kill Strom if the opportunity ever arose…” Mizuno frowned. He glanced over at Melanie and his eyes gleamed, “And you only joined because of the money I offered you.”

  “Oh do not play this game Mizuno,” Mithra barked. “You knew very well of our reasons for joining.”

  “I did and I still do.”

  “Then this isn’t a surprise.”

  Mizuno shook his head, “No, you’re right, this isn’t.” He stood up and walked toward Mithra. He stopped in front of him and questioned him, “Do you think I didn’t know about this? That I somehow didn’t realize what I was doing when I planned to meet you here in Mumbai and at the same time have Strom meet us here?” Mithra shifted uneasily in place as Mizuno continued, “I knew how you would react, I knew you would want to attack him, and I knew that in the end this would be good for you.”

  “What are you–”

  “The man who hired Strom Trenor to kill your father was a man named Teymour Farah. He paid Strom approximately seven-hundred fifty-thousand American dollars to kill your father on June sixteenth of two-thousand twenty-three. You joined this group on March eighth of twenty-twenty seven and September twentieth of that same year I hired Strom to kill Teymor Farah for what he’d done to your father as well as some other atrocities he’d committed.” Mithra froze. He only stared, wide-eyed, and as such Mizuno continued, “I would have done it myself if I had the time and energy to do so, but I didn’t, so I hired Strom.”

  The German frowned. “The man who hired me to kill Farah was–”

  “Motoi Mifune,” Mizuno finished. “I hired you under that name.”

  Strom rolled his eyes and started to take his rifle apart. He muttered something in German under his breath. Nick watched the man slowly and carefully take the rifle apart, piece by piece. Strom meticulously stored everything in a bag with the utmost care Nick believed an assassin might show to any sort of thing, living or inanimate. Nick found it strange.

  “Is there a reason you did that?” Mithra asked.

  Mizuno nodded, “I knew it would hinder you so I took the liberty of ending that constraint.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

  He shrugged. “I thought you might leave the group if that was the case and I couldn’t have that.” Mizuno looked away from him and smirked, “You may not realize this, but you’re actually a very valuable member of this group Mithra. Now,” he completely turned away from Mithra and back to Strom and Nick, “Nick, Strom is going to teach you how to shoot with a variety of firearms. I would normally teach you but I’ve got another stop to make in the meantime and I feel Strom will handle the task remarkably.”

  Nick sheepishly looked at the assassin as he finished with his weapons and set the bag at his feet. “You expect m-me to–”

  Mizuno cut him off, “I expect you to trust him, to follow him, and to learn from him. He’s solely here to teach you how to hit a target with a gun instinctively.” He turned from them and spoke to the whole group collectively, “Strom and Nick will head for Seattle while Mithra and Melanie will stop off in Paris to collect another one of our members.”

  “Is it David?” Melanie asked.

  Mizuno glanced over to her and acted as if he was alarmed. “I’d nearly forgotten you were even here Melanie. But yes, it’s David.”

  “When do we leave?” Melanie asked.

  Mizuno checked his watch, “I’d like to leave now, though Strom and Nick have time to kill before they need to leave Mumbai. Your flight leaves in two hours though, so you’ll need to leave now as well.”

  He walked away without another word and Mithra and Melanie left in a hurry after him. Strom didn’t budge though. All he did was rub his eyes and let out a small sigh.

  Nick looked at the man and asked, “Shouldn’t we be leaving?”

  Strom shook his head. “If we all left as one group there’s a greater chance that we’d be caught or seen. It’s better to let them leave and exit later.”

  Nick nodded to signify his understanding of their plan, though he wasn’t sure what to do or say after that point. Strom sat there on the ledge of the building as if nothing was amiss. He scratched at his chin a bit, glanced at his watch, looked over his shoulder at the streets below, and to Nick’s surprise was calm about the entire situation.

  “Do you do th-this…Do you train a lot of people?”

  Strom shook his head, “Nope, you’re the first.”

  “Why’d you agree then?”

  He shrugged and said, “Someone offers you a quarter of a million American dollars to teach a teenager how to shoot and there’s the added mystique of the kid’s super power?” He chuckled, “Hell, the request was too interesting to pass up…” His smile faded slightly and he admitted if anyone else made the request he would have refused, as it would have been a trap.

  “Why d-d-do you trust…Why do you trust him?”

  Strom hesitated to give a straight answer, “It’s a bit of a tale, but…basically Mizuno has a reputation with me and although I resent him a bit he’s proven he’s someone I can trust, more or less.” Strom stood up, stretched for a moment, grabbed his bag off of the roof, slung it over his shoulder and promptly headed for the stairs. Nick followed after him, though he tried to keep a few paces behind the man.

  As soon as the door closed and the two of them were in the much cooler stairwell Strom stopped, turned to face Nick who stood roughly at his eye level once Strom was two steps below him, and told Nick, “You can relax y’know, I’m not gonna hurt you.” Strom could still tell how hesitant Nick was and Strom tried to rationalize the situation with him, “Mizuno only paid me half, right? If I want the other twenty-five-hundred thousand dollars I have to uphold my part of the deal. Not to mention, I don’t hurt people because I like to,” he turned around and continued walking down the stairs and muttered, “It’s just a job.”

  Nick frowned. “Then why did you decide to kill for a living?”

  “It’s something I’m good at and something that doesn’t require too much of my time and pays very well,” he told Nick. “Besides, most of the people I kill aren’t random civilians, so it’s not like I’m a monster or anything.”

  “How do you and Mizuno know each other?”

  Strom ignored the question.

  Nick asked another query instead, “Do you know anything about Mizuno?”

  Strom coughed. “You could say that. He’s hired me before for various assassinations or jobs, but even before that I managed to learn to turn down any requests for Mizuno’s head.”

  “People want him dead?”

  Strom smirked, “A lot of people do, though most of them don’t know they want him dead specifically.”

  “What d-do…What do you mean?”

  “There are people who want him dead but they do not know who he is. They might have a picture of him or an alias he used once, but nobody knows who he is.”

  “But people want to kill him?”

  Strom nodded, “Only a few have tried…They’re not alive anymore though.”

  Nick fell quiet. They walked down the staircase that clung to the walls of the building and spiraled down toward the street level floor at the bottom. As soon as they reached the exit Nick asked another question, “M-Mizuno…What do you know about Mizuno’s group? About his project?”

  “I don’t really know anything kid. I’m not a part of it,” Strom told him. “I do know, same as you, that his group utilizes people with super powers.”

  “Does he have a power?”

  Strom stopped. “No one’s told you much about him, have they?”

  “No, they haven’t.”

  He let out a breath, scratched at this face a bit, and tarried in the cool stairwell to reveal a bit about the man. “His name’s Hiroshi Mizuno, or at least that’s what he’s told those close to him to call him, and all I know about him is that he came out of nowhere six years ago
. I had someone offer me thirty-thousand dollars to kill him and since I’d never heard of him I decided to take the deal. I set everything up, took aim, but somehow things backfired and within an hour I found myself looking down the barrel of his gun rather than the other way around. Long story short, he let me go because he knew I knew I couldn’t touch him, and he was well aware that I wouldn’t dare try to either.”

  “What happened to the guy who hired you to kill him?”

  “I tried to contact the guy but found out he was killed soon after my meeting with Mizuno. I didn’t realize it until years later, even though I assumed it, but Mizuno killed him.”

  “How’d he know who to kill?”

  “That’s the simple part of it,” Strom told him. “He learned it from me.”

  “You told him?”

  He shook his head. “You don’t understand. Mizuno has two very unique abilities, neither of which I was acquainted with until a year and a half ago. His first ability has to do with his mind. His mental capacity is something I’ve never heard of before. Basically, he never forgets anything, yet he can store memories for recall later, so all of his memories won’t overwhelm him at once. Now that ability by itself isn’t anything dangerous, it’s the other ability that makes it so deadly.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “Hiroshi Mizuno has the ability to learn everything you’ve ever done, said, thought, seen, heard, or learned in your entire life in the blink of an eye,” Strom revealed. “And coupled with his ability to never forget anything he’ll remember everything you know along with what he knows and he’ll put it to good use.” Strom elaborated, “Basically, if you know a martial art, so will he, except where you might hold some difficulty in the sport he’ll be perfect at it, as you were taught how to do everything perfectly at one point and your body messes things up.”

  Nick felt his heart race and his ears redden. He looked away from Strom and asked in a whisper, “D-Do you think…Do you think he knows everything about me?”

  He nodded. “If the guy knew you had some dormant ability that you weren’t consciously aware of, I’d say he does.”

  Nick frowned and asked, “Does it apply to other things?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Would he know something like math?”

  “Oh, yeah of course. Same with languages, business, law, finances… pretty much everything.”

  “So he’d be the smartest man alive then.”

  Strom slowly agreed with the statement, but added, “It also makes him the deadliest man alive as well.”

  ---*---

  5:19 PM

  Bothell, Washington

  “Why can’t we hang out tonight?” Rachel asked Jordan over her cell phone.

  “I’m starting a new job tonight,” he told her. “I mean, it’s a freaking miracle I got another job so soon, so I really can’t slack off at this point.”

  Rachel sat on her bed in her room and frowned at the news. “I guess you’re right. So when’s your next night off?”

  “I don’t know yet, but you’ll be the first to know.” She heard Jordan let out a sigh over the line and tell her he had to go since his shift was about to begin.

  Rachel hung up and set her cell on the bed beside her.

  Despite her usual attire and demeanor Rachel was far from as gloomy as she pretended. Rachel actually liked things neat and orderly, which was well represented in her organized CDs, movies, art supplies, books, clothes and shoes. Everything in her room had its place and at the moment everything was in its place, except the bracelet she’d lost on the night of the party in Seattle.

  She wore tight black leggings under a checkered black and white skirt. Rachel also wore a brown and black striped tee shirt underneath a dark gray zip up hoodie. The hoodie held two purposes then, though the most important feature was the long sleeves which hid her bare wrist from her aunt, who Rachel feared might notice and overreact.

  Her Aunt Claire knocked at her door and told her dinner would be ready soon. Rachel got off her bed, opened the door, and told her she’d wash up. “Will Jordan be joining us tonight?”

  Rachel shook her head, “He’s working tonight.”

  “Oh, well I guess it’s spaghetti for two,” she said before she turned and headed back toward the kitchen.

  Rachel shut the door, locked it, and fell back onto her bed. She’d lived with her aunt since her mother died when she was twelve and although she loved her aunt for all she’d done for her, Rachel felt she needed her own privacy, and that was why she had a lock on her door, her closet, and on her journal that sat under a locked charms box on her windowsill. Rachel doubted her aunt would even want to pry, but Rachel was an overly cautious person.

  Claire returned and knocked again. Rachel let out a sigh, got up, unlocked her door, opened it, and let her aunt talk. “There’s a handsome young man at the door for you Rachel.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “He says he met you a few weeks back,” she continued, “And that you two will be classmates this coming school year.”

  Rachel frowned but followed her aunt out to the door to find Vladimir there. Her aunt left the two of them alone. Rachel left the door open and kept close to it. She examined Vladimir and asked why he was at her home.

  “I am sorry to suddenly appear here on your doorstep,” he started, “And I am only here because I have a discovery that I believe could not wait until I merely happened to cross paths with you again.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  He took a breath and told her, “I have something for you.” He reached into his pack and retrieved her emerald gemmed, silver banded bracelet.

  Her eyes lit up as he returned it to her, “Vladimir where did you find it?”

  “I was returning home with my host brother from the party last weekend where I happened to see someone on the street who desperately wanted to sell it. I realized he must have stolen it from you and promptly bought it off of him,” Vladimir reported.

  Rachel’s heart sank. “How much was it? I’ll pay you back.”

  The young man refused though, “It was nothing. I only traded him a pocket watch that was hardly worth to me what that bracelet is worth to you.”

  “No way,” she shook her head, “What do I owe you?”

  The lad only smiled though. “Rachel,” he said calmly, “I knew before I spoke to the man that I was going to have to lose something to get it back from him to return it to you. And besides, you told me how important it was to you and as such I could not simply allow some brigand to make off with it and rob you.”

  “But what about you? Now you’ve lost–”

  “I have not lost a thing,” he stopped her. “Rachel, it was no trouble.”

  “W-Well what can I do to make it up to you?” she asked.

  “Rachel, you do not owe me a thing. Some people do the right thing and do not expect anything in return.”

  “At least stay for dinner.”

  “I can’t.”

  “We’re having spaghetti, garlic bread, green beans, and I think that my aunt made some Jell-O–”

  “I’m allergic to tomatoes.”

  “Well…Well what about coffee sometime?”

  “I do not–”

  “There has to be something. Please, there must be something that I can do to make it up to you.”

  “Rachel,” he paused a moment to ponder her request. Vladimir finally came to what he believed to be a reasonable appeal, “I am more than aware of how little your boyfriend cares for me, as such he would never agree to this but I ask you it nonetheless as you are one of the first friends I have made since I came here this year.” He took a small breath of courage and asked her, “Would you continue to be my friend?”

  She blinked. “What?”

  “Just…please, be my friend.” He averted his eyes momentarily as he mentioned how he was usually not able to make very many friends on account of how quiet and reserved he was. “As such I
would rather not lose someone like you so soon after I became acquainted with you.”

  She laughed at the request but agreed. “I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone come out and ask to be my friend Vladimir.”

  He apologized, “As I said before, I am not exactly the most sociable of sorts.”

  She forgave him anyway and agreed.

  They stood at the doorstep without an idea of what to do or say next. Rachel knew she was already late for dinner with her aunt, yet she felt she wanted to stay and chat with her new friend more. After a short moment passed, Vladimir scratched the back of his head and claimed he needed to be leaving. “If I’m out too late I fear my host parents will fret.”

  “Oh…” Rachel cleared her throat and asked once more, “Are you sure you can’t stay?”

  He nodded, “Some other time maybe.”

  She agreed. He turned to leave, but she stopped him and asked, “How did you know where I live?”

  “Ah,” Vladimir was taken aback by the question. “My host brother Pyotr knows a friend who knows a friend who knows a friend who happened to know where you live.”

  “Oh.”

  He apologized yet again, “I am sorry to have just suddenly dropped by, but I knew how you worried about it at the party and I imagined you still did.”

  Rachel thanked him again and remained there on her doorstep while he left. She looked over her bracelet once more, briefly tried to read the Latin engraving on the inside of the band, and put it back on her wrist before she returned inside and shut the door.

  -- -- --

  Once their meal was over and after all of the dishes were washed, Rachel told her aunt she wanted to go out for a walk and that she’d be back later. Rachel left without a jacket or purse and headed toward the park.

  It wasn’t dark out and the air was finally cooling to a tolerable level compared to how warm it was earlier in the day. She wandered alone toward Stipek Park, which was only a short distance from her home, and though she wasn’t sure why she wanted to get out of her aunt’s house, she was glad to have the time to herself to meditate on the evening.