She saw him, and she felt pity, compassion and she knew what she had always suspected, love. She loved him only she had been too afraid to admit it.
“But, you’re … you’re not like that are you Xavier” she was referring to their discovery of the fact that he was indeed genetically part alien, a fact his father did not yet know.
“Of course not” she could see the humanity clearly in his eyes. “I chose the only option I could. Give the orb to The Brotherhood so that nothing would change, and our world, my world, would keep turning, with you in it.”
Neron’s eyes narrowed “You are a fool. You gave away our future for love. You are no son of mine.”
Xavier’s eyes flashed “I know you felt it once two. With mother.” Neron bowed his head, his look indiscernible. Tasha looked to Xavier, she was well and truly tired of being a pawn, manipulated and used, lied to and kidnapped. There was a sudden muffled noise outside, hard to discern exactly what it was, and Neron’s head lifted, a flash of uncertainty crossing his face.
“What’s going on?” Tasha cried.
The door handle turned back and forth and the door swung open slowly. In walked the Guillermo, the Lone Wolf, holding a sword dripping with blood in his hand.
“You don’t make it easy do you?” he moved slyly inside shutting the door behind him.
“What have you done to my men?” Neron asked, the concern in his tone evident. “Argento?” The look on Guillermo’s face caused Neron’s face to wither just a little. He knew in that instant they were all dead. Loyal men who had aided him for years, gone in the blinking of an eye.
***
Guillermo smiled, not bothering to answer. He had made short work of Neron’s men, all professional soldiers and mercenaries, money for hire guys that didn’t do their work for the love of it, they were just in it for the paycheck, and frankly it showed.
There were eight of them guarding the office, two outside the office door and another six on patrol. He had slipped in and started knocking them off like flies, one-by-one.
The first two patrolling outside the factory were easy kills. He could smell them, their scent pungent of chili and spices, the main staple in India. The heat made matters worse, their sweat ripe and confronting to his sensitive heightened olfactory senses, making them easy prey for a wolf.
The first he snuck up behind, putting him into a choke hold and snapping his neck. He liked the choke hold, it immediately prevented them from calling out and informing the others. The second one he snuck up behind, severing his spine between the C2 and C3 vertebrae, slicing through the spinal cord, instantly removing the brain's communication to the rest of the body below that point. At the same time, he also severed the vertebral arteries supplying blood to the brain. The result was an immediate ‘lights-out.’
The other two guarding the door were a bit tricky, but then had always enjoyed the thrill of a hunt, it got his juices flowing. They were trickier to kill, but not impossible. The aim was to eliminate them both before one of them could sound the alarm. Walking directly up to them was an issue, there was no ground cover around the factory for him to hide behind and take a clear shot.
He figured they would be most off guard if he approached them dressed as one of them. He removed the clothes from the soldier whose neck he had broken. He would approach them with the sun behind his back, they wouldn’t know what hit them until it was too late.
He stripped the man of his uniform, grimacing at the smell of him. His odour was really quite foul. He dressed quickly, taking the man's hat and sunglasses and putting them on to cover his face. He approached the two at the front door casually, so as not to put them on guard. When he was within a couple of metres from them, he ducked quickly as if to tie an undone shoelace, retrieving two tactical knives which he had hidden in his sock.
He stood quickly, a knife concealed in each hand, tucked up under his sleeve. In what felt like a Nano second, he raised both arms and flung the knives directly at them, both knives lodging directly into their larynx. Guillermo had a soft spot for the throat, not because he was a wolf, but if your throat if breached, several kinds of bad things happened all at once.
First, you begin to lose blood, and, if he was lucky enough to hit the jugular vein, then a whole lot of it. Second, the trachea also gets severed, decreasing your ability to bring in oxygen and thirdly, you would begin to aspirate on your own blood, which in turn would prompt a very unpleasant drowning reflex.
Basically it violated all three of the trauma ABC’s, being airway, breathing and circulation, making it a trifecta.
That's what some of these kids new to the game didn’t understand, the art of killing.
The knowledge of how to kill a man, not just pointing, pulling the trigger on a gun and firing.
They both sank to their knees gasping and he congratulated himself silently. He had always been ambidextrous but even a professional knife thrower would have to appreciate this skill.
It was all a game to him.
He approached the first one, watching her like a spider does a fly caught in its web. She reached wildly for her gun, but he just smiled, pulling his sword from behind his back and with a quick clean sweep he decapitated her.
He looked across at the other, and noticed he was already close to death, the knife having pierced his jugular he was convulsing making guttural noises as he drowned on his own blood. He removed the knife, wiping it on the man’s shirt and placing it back into his sock.
He stooped to take his ID card to open the door, and entered the factory, noting the smell of death as soon as he opened the door. He pushed the door open gently using a mirror on a stick to check for clear entry. There were another four guards left to neutralise, two were patrolling the factory floor and the other two were guarding Neron’s office.
He entered the factory, and even he was taken aback by it. Of course he had heard of it, but he had never imagined the cruel morbidity of the place. He thought he could be a soulless killer, but what was going on in this factory took it to a whole new level. He could sense it, smell it, the decrepit stench of death, hanging in the air like a suffocating blanket, so thick he could almost see it.
Keeping low he crept past the conveyor belt, feeding vacuumed-packed people into what looked like some kind of meat locker. He headed further back into the belly of the beast, wondering silently to himself how the whole macabre process worked. He joked to himself, curiosity killed the cat, so he should be fine.
Further back was where it all happened. He noticed the packing machinery was all switched off, all apart from one machine which was feeding the conveyor belt, the run for the day was almost complete. The entire system looked to be automated, he assumed it was best to keep it that way. Minimum human involvement meant minimal issues with discovery.
He snuck further along past the packing machines and noticed a guard standing near what looked like an emergency exit. There was clear space all around him and nowhere to hide. The packing machine next to him was switched off. He noticed a large green button and figured, what the heck. He pressed the button and the machine came alive with a whirring noise. He stepped back, just out of sight.
Predictably, the guard came to investigate only to encounter Guillermo, the Lone Wolf and one of his right-hand hooks. If he had got the hook in fast enough, it would have been like a one punch attack, lights out and all over. The guard however, was faster than most, a small lithe guy with a lightening reaction speed, and he ducked. In the follow through Guillermo’s fist smashed into the metal of the machinery behind. He let out a small involuntary exclamation which managed to draw the attention of the second guard patrolling the factory floor.
Guillermo started fighting the guard, the space was tight and it was easier for the little guy to move. Guillermo knew instantly he was up for it, the guy knew martial arts, it appeared he had a knowledge of Kalaripayattu or Kalari. To Guillermo’s surprise he realised he had finally met a true opponent.
Those fuckers understoo
d the science of war, he thought to himself.
Forget about Japan and China, India was the birthplace of martial arts, it existed there before all others, and the ones which followed were pale imitations. Kalari was so feared, it was banned by the British, who tried to wipe it out altogether.
The guard was adept at using his size against him. Every time Guillermo tried to strike, he ducked and inflicted a blow to his kidney, his lungs he was starting to get pummelled.
He could also see the other guy bearing down on them fast from the corner of his eye.
Eager not to be sandwiched between the two of them, he decided to use his weight and size and he literally threw himself at the little guy in an attempt to drive him back into the machinery and corner him.
The guy moved out of his way quickly and Guillermo found himself off balance and hurtling into the machinery.
He managed to steady himself, just before the second guard reached him and was upon him. He was struck hard in the face and fell to his knees, blood coming from his mouth.
Unlike a true werewolf, he was unable to turn.
At this point he thought, it would have been handy, although he had heard, that turning in a situation like this, against the moon was extremely painful.
The small man lifted his leg and kicked him in the head, taking him all the way down to the ground.
One of them pulled out a gun ready to shoot him.
“Wait.” Guillermo placed his one hand out in front of him.
“What for?” sneered the small guard.
“This” said Guillermo. His other hand planted firmly on the ground he lifted one leg in a swift kick upwards. His foot struck the guards hand forcing the gun directly upwards and out of the man's hand. He reached his other hand down quickly and extracted his knife, hurling it at the smaller man. It hit him directly in his heart and he fell to the ground. The other man came charging at him, he was not as strong a fighter and was lunging to retrieve the gun. Having eliminated his greatest threat, Guillermo raised himself up meeting him head on.
They were well matched in size, and the struggled back and forth, banging against the machinery around them. This continued for a few minutes until Guillermo saw his chance at last and forced him back, attempting to pin him down against the conveyor belt leading into the packing machine.
He forced his head slowly backwards against the belt, his hand to his throat, crushing his windpipe. The man tried to claw at him, but he did not let go. Now it was down to sheer will, who wanted it more, mentally this was the point where if you allowed the smallest amount of doubt or fear into your mind, you were dead.
His head lowered further and further down, his muscles relenting against the intensity of Guillermo until his head started to touch the belt and it squealed uncomfortably beneath his sweaty head, dragging it along slowly.
Guillermo still did not let go, determined to win the battle of wills, staring him coolly in the eyes, as he saw the last of the light leaving them.
The man’s strength was starting to wane, his cheeks were flushed and his hair was plastered wet with sweat against his forehead. His face once flushed started to turn oddly pasty with pallor.
In one swift movement he finally forced the man completely back, and with a sadistic sense of curiosity he swung the man’s legs over watching him disappear into the machinery. He walked past it, to see the man forced out through an aperture, a bit like a sausage coming out of a meat mincer. His body had been sprayed with a clear liquid and fell glistening into a clear skinned tube hanging off of end. He saw him start to come to a little, but it was too late.
The machine chopped the bag off at his feet and he landed on a conveyor belt below, a large press coming down at the base of his feet, sucking all the air out of the bag. He struggled weakly as the bag closed in around him, tighter and tighter, drawing into his opened mouth. It finally heat sealed the bag and the process was complete.
“Huh,” muttered Guillermo. “That’s how it works.”
The last two guards at the door to Neron’s office were more of a nuisance than anything, after what he had been through, it was more like their presence was just there to piss him off. He strode up to them, swinging his sword at one and kicking the other in their stomach. They both fell like grass to the wind. He entered the room, blade dripping with fresh blood, to stand before Neron and his son.
***
Neron scowled. “Is this what The Brotherhood have come to, they are stooping to new lows using the tainted to do their dirty work.” For the first time Tasha saw Guillermo look taken-aback, possibly even surprised. Seeing his look Neron clarified. “I can smell it from a mile away, the stink of it is all over you” he spat. “It seems about right that they would use a dog to do their dirty work.”
Guillermo chuckled. “That might have carried more weight if it didn’t come from the mouth of a filthy lizard. I too, can smell what you are, you and your son.” He gestured towards Xavier.
Neron looked shocked, shaken his core “that cannot be?” he exclaimed. “Surely…” he turned to study Xavier and saw from the look on his face, Guillermo spoke the truth.
“And you were not going to tell me?” he spoke to Xavier, the chagrin obvious in his voice. He seemed to even forget the menacing presence of Guillermo. His face had paled, his eyes alight with ecstasy. “When?”
“The orb” answered Xavier simply. “It brought me back to life, it changed me.”
“Yes, yes” he answered his eyes shining. It was as if he was oblivious to the presence of Guillermo in the room, all he could now see was his son.
Neron turned and stood in front of Xavier, facing Guillermo and protecting his son. “What are your intentions?” he asked. “I assume you had my son marked for liquidation?”
“We did, but this complicates things a little doesn’t it?” stated Guillermo matter of factly. His words were calm but he was holding himself tensely like a cat on a hot tin roof, every sinew and muscle ready to swing into sudden and calculated motion.
“Surely then you would know of our importance, our family’s importance to The Brotherhood?” Neron asked.
“Maybe.” He lifted the sword and in one fell swoop jammed it through his stomach, making a dull and sickening thud sound as the metal pierced flesh and organs, just missing his spine.
Neron fell backwards, his expression one of shock and disbelief, backwards into the arms of Xavier, who collected him and lowered him gently to the floor. Neron gasped, you could see the bright red blood trickling out the wound and through his designer shirt.
“Why?” he gasped clutching his bleeding stomach.
“I think you know why” answered Guillermo cryptically. “Now you know about the orb, we can’t have you trying to upset the apple cart.”
“Father” Xavier cried clutching his shoulders.
“Son” he gasped “my son.”
Guillermo strutted like a pompous peacock, overly pleased with himself. There was an unusual gleam in his eyes, almost golden like the sun. Guillermo stopped, and placed the back of his hand against Tasha's cheek, feeling her skipping pulse, and addressed Xavier. “I was planning on killing you.” He shot a glance at Tasha, “both of you actually. But now I need you to do your part. The life of your girlfriend depends on it.”
He brushed his hand along her face, taking the nape of her long slender neck in his hand, drawing her head close as she shied away, sniffing her hair, inhaling deeply. There was something strangely animalistic about it.
“Get back off her you dog!” Xavier cried out.
“Uh, uh, uh” said Guillermo, lifting the sword to Xavier's neck before he could lunge up at him. “Always with the profanity, what is wrong with dogs anyway? They are loyal, attentive and man’s best friend. But you aren’t really a man are you? Play nice now lizard boy.” He stepped backwards his eyes flashing again.
Their plan was clear now, they had eliminated Neron because his knowledge of the orb meant he posed a threat, they knew he would try to t
ake it from them. Their intent was now to replace Neron with Xavier, using Tasha as their bargaining chip to keep him in line.
“Your father, we had nothing left to hold over him. It appeared that he no longer even cared for you, letting your run around out there like wilderness boy. He lost his humanity a long time ago. But you, I saw how much you love her, the moment I met you. You have a choice now, continue running your father’s operation, or she dies. If not by my hand, The Brotherhood will see to it, they always do.” His look was transparent, like thick plate glass, impenetrable but all too clear.
Xavier looked down at his father. He was dying slowly, bleeding to death, his breaths were slowing and his skin now pasty and pallid. “Do as they say, son” he pleaded “protect our line, I know you will find a way.”
Tears were falling softly from his eyes, running down his cheeks in small rivulets of silent pain and love. He nodded, knowing that he could not best Guillermo, not today, but someday he would.
He looked up at Guillermo. “I will do as you ask” he said succinctly. He looked back down at his father seeing the relief, the pride in his eyes. He had become what his father had always wanted, in his eyes he was now a man, willing now to fight for what was important to him. “Fight” his father whispered, “free your yourself and the one you love. Do what I could not.” He nodded unable to speak as his father slipped away. For the first time in years a father again, for the briefest of moments, but that was enough.
He looked up, and Guillermo had already gone. Like a wolf sulking into the night he stepped back into the shadows as silently as he had arrived.
“Tasha, Tasha” she saw Xavier kneeling before her.
“Xavier” she cried out falling into his arms. He wrapped his strong arms around her, and she pressed her face into his chest smelling the salt of his perspiration and pheromones, his unique scent, the same one that had driven her wild literally hours before, that aroused her lust for his loins and made her helpless to his charm. She pulled away, regarding him with eyes that expressed her love more than a thousand words could.
The Artifact: Natasha Burrows Series Book One Page 22