Redemption

by Dufour, Danny

  “My name is Oscar Schwartz. Have a seat, please, make yourself comfortable. We’re very pleased to meet you.”

  Schwartz showed him a wooden chair facing the table. He faced his interrogators and Schwartz took his place on the other side of the table.

  “Gentlemen of the CIA, I must say, advanced notice would have been preferable. I hope this is very important, to travel all this way just to meet me. The last time I needed you, you gave me—”

  “Mr. Bane… to begin, you are here because that which we must tell you is of capital importance. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be here either. Do you understand?”

  “Imagine that,” Andy grumbled.

  “First of all, what is it that makes you think we’re CIA?”

  “Well, that’s what I heard from my boss, who was, by the way, furious that you wouldn’t advise him as to the nature of this meeting. You love a fucking mystery, eh? And for myself, I must admit that I don’t have much patience for games like this. I haven’t slept decently in weeks and it must be more than—”

  “The CIA was no more than the means by which we were able to contact you, we are not CIA. I’m afraid that the authority in question is other than that. Life is complex, but this, you must already know.”

  “Oh, I see... so under orders of the President himself maybe !?” said Andy sarcastically.

  Schwartz looked him right in the eyes with a perfect poker face, half his face in shadow.

  “ Maybe in a way... along with several other people that steer the world, and who, my friend, share a vision.”

  “Ohhhh, good! Thank you, but I’ve already heard this bullshit. If you would excuse me, I think you’re talking to the wrong guy.”

  Andy stood and stormed towards the door. Schwartz called him back in a harsher voice than Andy thought was possible:

  “Your father, Mr. Bane. Do you remember? Agent Scott Bane was gunned down in cold blood in front of your home by the Yakuza!”

  Andy wheeled around. A flash of anger shot through his vision on hearing the name of his father. Who let this fucker into my personal file?

  “How dare you use my father’s name to try to reel me into some hoax!? I don’t know what’s holding me back from breaking your face!”

  “All right, calm down. My goal is not to manipulate you, but to explain why we have called you this evening.”

  Andy was still enraged – he knew his face was red by now – but Schwartz’s words piqued his interest.

  “Ok, Schwartz. Great! What do you want from me?”

  “I want you to listen to me.”

  “I am listening!”

  “With all due respect, no you’re not. I would like you to sincerely consider what I say. Then, you yourself could judge the legitimacy of your presence.

  Andy took the chair and looked Schwartz in the eyes. “Shoot. I’m listening.”

  “Thank you very much. You have been chosen for a special task.”

  “All right. What kind of task are we talking about here? What’s in question?”

  “Mankind, Mr. Bane.”

  “Ok. I’ll admit that mankind is tough to watch sometimes, I’ll give you that, but I really don’t think I’m the one to save it.”

  “I wouldn't say save it... but let's say... improve it! You have been chosen for a complex work, Andy, and those whom you recruit, if you accept our offer, will have a mission even bigger than you and us.”

  “So you want me to assemble a team. What kind of team, and what for?”

  “We can’t tell you the kind – that decision will be yours to make. However, their task will be to save numerous human lives by purging the trash.”

  “I think I get you. You’re asking me to form a group of mercenary hitmen, is that it? The type who’ll slaughter those who are dangerous in your eyes, is that it? Toward a patriot goal, for the American homeland, or some shit, or am I wrong? Haven’t you learned from the past? You know as well as I that black ops in the past were busted wide open and going down in media scandal. I don’t want to be the fool that goes to execute people under the pretext that they think different. I’m sorry. Nevertheless, if that’s the guy you want, you’ll find him, I’m sure of it. There’s nothing but mercenaries out there ready to kill whoever you please for a few miserable dollars.”

  “I don’t blame you, Mr. Bane. In fact, I agree completely. However, you don't get it. You’re mistaken in thinking our goal is political. Our goal is to improve our world so that it can survive, you see!?”

  “Rubbish. You know what makes the world go. Money and power. Not mankind. You’re asking me to swallow that some… vigilante group will purge the trash to clean our world... I mean like... a fat lady going on a grape diet to lose weight, is that is !?” said Andy ironically.

  “Very funny, but if that's your way to explain it, good for me… that’s the truth, yes. You know, you are amongst those who know the world’s biggest secrets, compared to the ignorant masses. But that which you think is certain, may I reveal, is nothing but a mask over the truth. Nothing is what it seems.”

  “Ok. Enlighten me. What is it, if not what it seems?”

  “Since the dawn of time, a few individuals have watched over our world as silent guardians, if I may put it that way. The problem, of course, is the silence. These individuals hail from all countries, all cultures. Two things unite us: this secret, and the fact that we are people like you, Mr. Bane. We want the best for the world we live in, but we traditionally avoided direct interference in its natural evolution. Our help was always indirect, intended to simply direct the currents toward improvement. Our biggest weapon was networking, but we don’t play god. We don’t delude ourselves in thinking that we could change the nature of man. We have always had faith that good would triumph over evil by itself. Today, we are less certain. Most countries are now societies of rights where criminals have learned to play the laws and borders to survive. The worst criminals, if I may, are playing quite a bit for freely. Society has become incapable of intervening in time to stop these threats and we have realized that if men of that sort could become this powerful, it’s because men like us didn’t kill them long ago. Our passivity has been the cause of millions of deaths and numerous sufferings over the course of decades past and we, as a brotherhood, have decided that the situation must change. How many lives could have been saved, for example, if we had intervened to take down Adolf Hitler before he instigated his regime, or those who originated the Bosnian genocides? Our history is filled with dictators whom we saw rise peacefully, and whom we didn’t dare stop before the unspeakable occurred, all under the protocol that warns us it is not acceptable to kill someone before they have killed. We followed this even if we knew with certainty what was to come. Most atrocities could have been prevented, but the passivity characteristic of a man of peace saw millions of innocents die needlessly. Of course, there are counter-attacks within our history, but after how many deaths? I don’t judge my predecessors, Mr. Bane. That we are at the top of the pyramid makes no difference; we are nothing but men with all our weaknesses. We aren’t warriors, only guardians in the shadow who, with the years, have become expert orators, investors and thinkers rather than peacekeepers. We have become aristocrats hiding behind our fortunes – to call us ‘guardians’ is disingenuous. Yes, we have failed. However, we believe it is not too late to learn from our mistakes, and our brotherhood has at last decided to play a role in shaping the future. We can’t change the past, but we can change our future. Don't you agree!?”

  “Maybe. But what makes you so sure about me?”

  “The answer is simple, and it begins with the assassination of your father. Your destiny is to track those sort of people who destroy without scruple – in short, the sort of person who killed your father. You have always yearned for justice, but you quickly realized that which I have just explained. In the established system, the idea of this type of criminal succumbing to justice is utopian. Superficially, you appear to have accepted it, but deep down… you can’
t.”

  “And if you’re wrong about me? If I, on the contrary, am loyal to our system?”

  “Loyal to what dear friend!? A system now ruled by corrupt lawyers? A system now nurtured and led by the weak so that he can better hide himself behind his own mess he created? Have you ever thought about who really takes advantage of that system? Come on... please Mr. Bane! Aren't you tired to lie to yourself like that? Over the years, you waited for this opportunity. This is it, here it is... here I am in front of you! The decision is yours: either to return to work, your illusions and your weariness; or, you roll the dice... that's your show now and that is your life, you decide what you want to be!”

  Andy took a moment to think. Schwartz was right. All those years he had tried to bring down criminals who would either receive minimal penalties or, more commonly, slipped right through their investigation. It enraged him to his core, to think that he’d wasted the best years of his life on the cause, which ultimately was a fable. No marriage, no child. In fact, no attachment of any kind.

  So what have I got to lose?

  “If I am in and your project fails, I suppose you’d deny your entire existence, right?”

  “Regretfully, yes. We, you, and your future team are all at risk. To guard this secret is paramount, you understand. You would know exactly that which you needed to know, no more, no less. For your security and ours, it will be thus.”

  “I have no idea of the sort of people that could carry out a task like this, I don’t know—”

  “Mr. Bane, you have our full confidence. The choice is yours, and I am certain that it will be right.”

  “Ok, suppose I say ‘yes’ and I find people capable of carrying this out. What about money?”

  “Ah, yes money... but this is the easy part to be honest. You will have all that you need, it is not a problem.”

  “Ok well... I understand your desire for anonymity, but I’d like to know what and who is behind this project. Surely there must be one.”

  “As I’ve explained, it’s not a question of country. This surpasses the notion of nations, politics or religions. Think of it as a multi-national organization. Our cause is just, and you have many allies, even if, at times, you feel deserted. You will never be deserted. You can count on us. Can we count on you, Mr. Bane?”

  “Let's give a try.”

  “Good. This is the first time we’ve met face to face and, in all probability, the last. I’m certain that you and your group will do brilliant work. We have faith in you.”

  Oscar Schwartz rose from his chair, along with the rest. He and Andy shook hands in alliance. Andy noted the massive gold ring on one of Schwartz’s fingers. The same ring appeared on each hand he subsequently shook. Schwartz gave him an envelope containing information for the next step. Andy left the same way he’d entered: confused. The moment their hands had touched, he knew his life was destined to change. But he would try, even if it cost him everything he had left.

  CHAPTER 5

  Victor Leung was on time, as always. Each week, he took an acupuncture section in a tiny alleyway of Montreal’s Quartier chinois. This little Chinese herbal medicine clinic was known for its discretion despite its large staff: five acupuncturists aided by an army of assistants to wait hand and foot on their largely Asian clientele. For Victor Leung, his own well-being was primary and others didn't matter at all for him. Victor was a cold, cruel being. He was the chief of a Triad – that is, a Chinese mob – and had been building his reputation in this shady world for years. Cruelty and violence brought him respect. Victor Leung controlled several strip clubs and massage salons in the Montreal region. He was implicated in illegal gambling, illicit casinos, extortion and prostitution. He pimped several women and there were whispers of white slavery. He took sadistic pleasure in the violence he used to scare away his rivals.

  For a few years, a restaurant owner in the area had been consistently refusing to pay tribute to Victor over his profits. As the boss of the Quartier chinois, Victor had no qualms in storming the busy restaurant with several henchmen, finding the owner and chopping off his hand with a hatchet. Warning issued, tribute collected, example made. All this unfolded under the eyes of the horrified clientele. Nothing and no-one could stand up to him; he was the despot of the district. Going to the police was out of the question if you valued your life. It was said that many of Victor’s women disappeared in strange circumstances, never to be found. He was at the height of fame and his attitude expressed it. He was constantly flanked by two or three bodyguards who cut an intimidating figure in their designer suits. His trademark was a shiny black cane which he carried not because he limped, but for the augmentation of the character he had created so meticulously.

  Andy knew about him. In reality, so did the police. He’d been at it for quite some time. Several investigations had been opened during his tenure, but it seemed that nothing could bring him down, not yet. While tracking Reiki, the Czech arms trafficker, he’d come across a possible link to Victor. If he tailed Victor, it was possible that he would come to find Reiki. With a team of agents, he had followed Victor to this weekly appointment on a hunch. He had parked his car on the street near the aforementioned clinic with a visual on the main entrance. Other agents were posted at different places in case Victor left by a different entrance. Andy found it hard to keep focused on the task – his mind kept wandering back to the slaughterhouse meeting and he asked himself who the hell he could possibly convince to do this. He was at a dead end and it annoyed him. He’d given his word to Schwartz and it seemed as though he might have to go back on it.

  “Chink bastard. Half the gangsters want to cut him down and take his place and does he give a fuck? Tending to his health, christ’s sake… I’m waiting for a man to get needles jammed in his ass,” Andy muttered.

  It’s going to be a long night. At that moment, as if to prove him wrong, an Asian woman left through the main entrance, her black mane fluttering behind her. She seemed to be floating rather than walking. He couldn’t look away. She might have been walking on the moon. Other than that, there was nothing unordinary about her, until she turned sharply to disappear down a dark alley next to the building in question. If he’d have been distracted for a moment, changing the channel on the radio, he would have missed her. As it was, he saw her perfectly with her long black coat and crisp white pants. Out of habit, he asked himself if she couldn’t be linked to Victor – certainly a woman venturing alone into such a sketchy alley at this time of night was suspicious, and this was all sufficient for Andy to leave his car and follow her. He wondered if she’d been a vision. He had no reason other than a gut compulsion to follow her, but it was strong enough that he neglected his number one rule: without a word, he abandoned his team and ventured out with no backup.

  “I’m a goddamned fool, should get back to my position,” he grumbled.

  He followed her to the end of the alley, and then a few paces along the street on the other side. She turned a corner. Andy was on her the whole time, certain he was going unnoticed. She stopped suddenly to enter a red metal door that seemed to lead into a warehouse. Andy hung back for a few minutes before following her through. He eased the door open and shut it gingerly behind him. A staircase, also metal, descended into a gloomy chasm. He cursed; you can’t walk a metal staircase silently. Creeping on tiptoe, he lowered himself into the void.

  A giant basement opened before him. A light flickered in the distance, and that was it; he started toward it and was floored by a blow to the face.

  He cried out in pain.

  Here was a bloody mess: a sword at his throat, five hooded figures circling him menacingly.

  “You move and I slash your throat.”

  “I swear...I won’t move” Andy hissed, sprawled on the ground.

  “Who are you!?” demanded the swordsman.

  “My name is Patrick,” he lied. “I thought I heard screams from inside and came to make sure there was no one in trouble. That’s it. I swear!”


  “Liar!” spat the man to the left of the swordsman.

  “I’ll bet he works for Victor and saw everything at the clinic. Get rid of him before they all come after us!” said a female voice.

  “Not so fast,” the swordsman muttered.

  Roughly, he searched Andy and extracted his wallet from his coat pocket. He flipped it open and flashed Andy’s ID card and agent badge.

  Shit. Andy had a walkie-talkie on him with a panic button which, once activated, broadcast a GPS signal letting the other agents know where he was, and that he was in danger. If he didn’t press it he’d be dead in minutes; if he moved to press it the sword would open his throat. Either way, he was dying tonight.

  “Andy Bane of CSIS! That’s interesting… and complicating,” said the swordsman.

  “It’s actually very simple,” yelled another woman. “We should do him in and fuck off. We’re going to have the whole police and intelligence circus on our asses if we do otherwise.”

  “Enough!” said the swordsman. “We’re not killing an intelligence agent. There’s no one coming. Our guest made a wrong turn. Isn’t that right?”

  “Like hell,” Andy said, still grimacing. “You work for Leung and the woman… you set a trap for me. Isn’t that right?”

  “Wrong! We never worked with that garbage. In fact, we were working on him, to put it one way. A personal history to settle, so to speak,” said the swordsman. “Your turn, Mr. Bane. How did you come to find yourself here?”

  “I’m tailing that ‘garbage’, as you say, and I see a woman leave the clinic. I guessed she might lead me to the man I was tracking.”

  The swordsman began to laugh. “Ahhh, I see. Congratulations, Andy, it’s quite a feat to tail this one. You must have good instincts.”

  “Well, judging by my present clusterfuck I wouldn’t call them ‘good’.”

  “Don’t be too hard on yourself.”