“Good work, Dorian,” I tell him.
It’s always productive to compliment your crew members to boost confidence and to show you appreciate their services. And I truly do. But when they screw things up, I’m even quicker to let them know in order to rectify the situation as quickly as possible so nobody gets sent to the After before they want to. It’s a sound procedure and has worked a high percentage of the time. It doesn’t matter if your Alive or a Dead One, everyone likes to be told when they have done a good job and you appreciate them. However, it takes a special person to take criticism and listen to it and grow because of it without taking offense.
I slowly open the door and peer in to see there’s nobody to be seen. Just as I thought the scenario would be.
However, if this is an Underworlder locale, where are their security? I have a feeling we’ll find out soon enough.
We’re only a crew of three. Who knows how many Vega has here? This church is mammoth. I have my doubts, but I know we’re a formidable crew, one to not be trifled with, no doubt. I have no questions of our joint abilities. But this is a foreign location, and once again, we don’t know the layout, so we must proceed with extreme caution.
“This reminds me of the cave all over again, guys,” I tell them. “And we all know how that turned out, right?”
“So with that said, there’ll most likely be a hidden doorway of some sort which will lead to where they are,” Dorian comments.
“Maybe they know we’re on to them, and this is some sort of trap. It wouldn’t be the first time,” Kelly Marie replies.
These are the kind of things to think about in order to stay a successful Harvester, or you’ll end up in the After before you wish to. You must think of every angle your enemy will be thinking in order to destroy you and your plight will be easier.
We sneakily move into the church and observe our surroundings with a close eye. No Underworlders to be found. Nobody at all, for that matter. No type of security camera surveillance neither. Now my suspicions begin to rise. Why isn’t there anyone at all? Is this a complete Underworld front to lure us into a trap for the final time?
We move slowly to the back of this large, well-decorated yet gaudy church. Kelly Marie checks the confessional booths, nothing. I find descending stairs, and I wave the others over.
“Dorian, you stay here. Kelly Marie, you come with me.”
We quietly descend the stairs, anticipating something will definitely be on the other side of the lower door that we will most definitely have to combat. Both of our guns are raised and poised for action. We reach the door, and I put my ear to it hopefully to hear something with my keen sense of hearing. However, nothing. I check the doorknob, and it’s unlocked. I nod at Kelly Marie. I turn the doorknob ever so gently and slowly open it. I peek through the slightly ajar door. Nobody is in the room. I open the door all the way and we enter.
“Look for anything that seems out of place,” I instruct Kelly Marie.
We scour every inch of what appears to be a priest’s office.
Kelly Marie kicks over a desk trashcan out of frustration. “We saw them come in here! Where are they?”
“Keep your composure and be quiet, Kelly Marie,” I say to her.
She takes several deep breaths and nods at me.
“Let’s get back topside and check the rest of the church,” I comment. “We’ve overlooked something.”
I take point and move up the stairs where I see Dorian still at his position like a good Harvester should do: obey commands given to you by the head Harvester on the Hunt.
But he’s a well-trained, seasoned, decorated soldier from the World War II era, so it’s expected by me. We make it to the top.
Dorian looks at us. “Anything?” he asks us.
“Nothing, Dorian,” Kelly Marie replies.
“Check every nook and cranny of this fake church,” I command ’em.
We split up and check everywhere. This is beginning to become an annoying search and incriminate with dirt on the senator mission. Not to mention, I know Underworlders are somewhere in this place, maybe even watching us. I put one of Djinn’s high-tech x-ray goggles on and slowly scan the area. I come across an anomaly in the first confession booth. I take off the goggles and maneuver to it. I have a good feeling of what I’m going to find. Fingers crossed. I enter the booth with gun in hand. I scan every nuance of it. I check the seat and pull up on it. Suddenly, the wall slides to the right and reveals a passageway leading down.
Here we go! I step out of the booth and wave to the others, and they scurry over.
“I found a secret passage,” I tell ’em. “We’re going underground again it seems.”
“This remind you of the cave?” Kelly Marie asks with a smirk.
“Very funny,” I reply. “Rock and roll?”
“Rock and roll,” they softly say so not to alert anyone of our presence.
“Let’s do this, Harvesters.”
We collectively move down the wrapping stairs which are illuminated by flickering lights. Down below can barely be seen by the dim lighting. Is this on purpose or just plain poor lighting? Who knows when it comes to the Underworld? However, we don’t need any sort of lighting to see anyway. It’s one of the many gifts, powers if you will, that you receive as soon as you agree to be a Harvester.
With that said, the Underworlders have the same powers, and I’d have to say possibly more, especially with Vega’s power to regenerate, create a Master Hole, mimic anyone he wants, and being able to time-shift. Yeah, I’d have to say they have the upper hand on us.
Cautiously, we stop when we get to the bottom. What I see shocks me because this is a four-hundred-year-old church. There’s futuristic-style scientific equipment of all sorts everywhere in this underground facility. Quite possibly, another one of Vega’s super facilities to conduct unknown, unheard of experiments.
“Should we pop Djinn’s protection pills now, Harv?” Kelly Marie asks.
“Not until we know we’re going to make contact with them,” I tell her. “We can’t risk wasting his pills.”
Dorian discovers an elevator at the other end of the facility and more wrapping stairs beside it, but this time, they’re heading upward. Decision time.
“Well, which means of travel?” Kelly Marie asks. “If we take the elevator, then they’ll hear us coming up and will already be ready for us,” she adds on.
“But if we take the stairs, maybe that’s what they want intruders to take because they figure that’s what intruders would think about the elevator,” Dorian debates.
They both have valid points that must be considered. I drum my finger on my chin as I ponder which avenue to take and if it might be a good idea to split up and also if we should take Djinn’s pill.
“Holster your guns for now, and let’s use our half swords,” I instruct them.
We pull out our half swords, which can be just as effective as our long swords.
“Each of us take a protection pill now,” I say.
We each swallow a Djinn protection pill.
“What now?” Dorian asks me.
“I’m going to climb up through the elevator’s roof hatch and hide there, only after pushing the button that goes to the highest floor. You two take the stairs and wait for my arrival. You make your move on my word.”
“What then?” Kelly Marie inquires.
“Don’t know till we run into it. Let’s move.”
They ascend the stairs, and I push the button on the elevator, and the door slides open. I quickly enter and jump up and push aside the roof hatch. I see that the elevator only goes three floors, so I push the 3 button. The door closes and I easily jump up and through the hatch. I close the hatch and take my position beside it. The elevator rises. I can already hear people talking above me, and it sounds like there are at least five of them. And one of them is definitely the Messenger. I reach the top and the elevator stops. I slightly move the hatch over to just a crack to see through. The door opens and
the inside of the elevator is immediately sprayed with bullets. Two Underworlders slowly step in and look and see nothing. They’re dumbfounded. Then, one of ’em looks up.
I slide the hatch door all the way over, lean way down, and with one movement, slice both of their heads off.
“Now!” I exclaim to my crew of two.
I jump down into the elevator and peer into the room as Dorian and Kelly Marie rush into it. I see the place has many shelves adorned by dead twice over Harvester severed heads in jars. Somebody is a twisted, sick collector.
Dorian and Kelly Marie charge an Underworlder disguised by a fabric cloak over their head who has an unknown contraption in his hand. Senator Munley sits strapped in a chair a few feet behind this mysterious person. I casually stroll toward the last Underworlder who charges me with a dagger in each hand. He seems very confident. I let him get so close to me so that he tries to stab me, but his daggers break on my impenetrable body due to Djinn’s protection pill. He scowls with confusion as I raise my sword and do a 360-degree spin to gain more power, and I lop off his head and send him to the After.
Now it’s only the Senator and Mr. Mystery, who is about to be attacked by Dorian and Kelly Marie. I can’t see his face, but his bodily motions illustrate to me he isn’t worried, nor concerned in the least. I could help them, but I decide to stay back and evaluate their performance. This may seem cruel, but a crew leader must assess from time to time the ones under their command. And this is the perfect time to do so. Two versus one. They’ll be able to handle it, I’m sure. But why is this Mr. Mysterious hiding his identity? Is it Vega trying to be incognito or what? And why is Senator Munley so sedate and calm in a situation a senator shouldn’t be? This strikes me as strange and highly unlikely.
Kelly Marie motions to strike with her half sword, and the mystery man simply points the contraption in his hand at her and sends a paralyzing shockwave at her. She stops in her place, convulses, and can’t move. Dorian attempts to disarm him, but he hits Dorian as well with a blast and gains the same result. A few seconds later, they both drop unconscious. Now only I am left to handle this Mr. Mysterious. I slowly approach him.
“I like it when a person feels the need to hide their identity. It makes me want to find out who you are even more,” I tell him with cockiness. “And I will find out.”
“Don’t be so sure, Harvester,” he tells me through a voice scrambler to not know his voice, which means to me I must know this person’s voice from past history. Or why would he be hiding it and his face from me and my crew? My mind quickly starts to think of past foes, even ones who have betrayed the Agency. Who can he be? It’s obviously not Vega. He wouldn’t hide in the least. He’s too vain and arrogant to hide. So with that said, who is this guy?
“Is your face so hideous that you must hide it?” I sarcastically ask him to ruffle his feathers.
I have to figure out a way to get that contraption out of his hand. I don’t want to end up like Dorian and Kelly Marie. I look around and I don’t see the Messenger. I need to stay extra alert for his most likely imminent arrival.
He had to of heard all the shots fired. I’m usually a very observant person, but it is only now that I notice that the ceiling are windows and the bright full moon shines through them. I truly enjoy full moons. I have a high percentage success rate when it’s a full moon. I don’t understand it, but it’s a fact that I enjoy. But back to that powerful contraption.
“Do you know who I am, Mr. Mysterioso?” I ask him.
He nods at me.
“Not much of a talker are we?” I keep digging into him. “Obviously you do since you want your face and voice disguised. What now?”
“You gather your Harvesters, and I allow you to leave with your lives. I have work to do,” he tells me.
“Work? With the senator? Well, you see, that’s where I have a problem. I really can’t do that,” I retort. “Especially with Senator Munley sitting there as if he’s stoned out of his mind.”
He points his contraption at me. “Then you end up like your crew. Your choice,” he informs me.
I must be quick to think of a tactic to disarm him.
And then it hits me. A technique I’ve used numerous times, and I will use it again right now. I move in a slow motion speed, but in actuality, I’m moving much quicker than any human being can achieve. And blamo! I’m already at the mystery man before he can even pull the trigger on his contraption. I snap his wrist with ease, and he can no longer hold onto his contraption. It drops to the floor. I put him in a tight chokehold.
“You weren’t expecting that, now were you?” I ask with a confident tone.
There really is a fine line between confidence and cockiness, isn’t there? Or maybe it’s arrogance and not cockiness. Either way, it’s a fine line.
I remember a few years after being trained by Master Miyamoto Musashi, I had an encounter with an unrelated Harvester Hunt. It was a man who had a problem with me due to my reputation, and he figured, as it usually works out, that if he took me out he would gain major clout and respect due to what everyone knew of my background. I couldn’t blame him for his thought process and actions. I would’ve done the exact same thing if I were in his shoes.
I was still in Japan, Kyoto to be exact, when I was getting rather drunk and several beautiful ladies were doing a great job of giving me all their sexy attention.
They knew who I was and how dangerous I was, and to be honest, they loved it. In their mind, it gave them some sort of a power trip knowing they were with a man of such battling strength and the fact that I was a foreigner really turned them on, and I must admit, I liked it. Well, with that said, a certain local warrior didn’t want to accept the fact that a foreigner was getting all of his attention. He was an up-and-coming samurai warrior for a local lord. His name was Akira. He felt he had to prove to himself and to his lord that he was a better warrior. And what better way than to defeat me?
When I discovered he wanted my heart in his hand, I did plenty of research on him like Miyamoto Musashi taught me to do before going into battle. What I learned of him was semi-alarming. He was twenty-five at the time and had as many kills as his age. Even though he never studied under Musashi like I had for so long, he had studied everything he had written and everything he had heard about him. He thought of himself as Miyamoto reincarnated.
Delusional as he may be, he truly believed this to be true.
And when your mental stability is this off kilter, it could work in his favor. I had to rethink my battle process for such a clouded, distorted mind-set. I thought that I must choose the landscape of where our battle will transpire to use to my advantage, of course. But where I thought? I didn’t have much time. A stressed mind such as his, I definitely knew I didn’t have much time. However, what I had working for me was that nobody knew that I was trained by the Master Musashi himself. All they knew was that I was an undefeated warrior. And that Musashi info would forever remain secret.
He called me out and gave me the choice of the location of the battle. I chose a small island off the coast of Japan, an isolated area where we could battle with no interruption or disturbance. This was a choice I made due to my master had dueled on this very island as well.
His spirit will be with me.
It just so happened it was a full moon. With my research on him, I found out that he had a very short attention span and very little room for patience. This I knew could work to my advantage. I would use another one of my master’s techniques, which I have used before, and it has worked for the both of us. I found out that he was a stickler for being on time. So I would show up late for the battle and make him frustrated, mad even, at me, to the point of throwing off his technique. I knew this battle would be more of martial arts rather than dagger or swordplay due to me knowing his style of fighting. Although I knew that weapons would come into play at some point in our altercation. I must weaken him before it comes to that point. I must.
When it comes to martial arts,
well, I enjoy that concept. What a way to combat one another. I thoroughly enjoy it. To take someone out by the way of foot, hand, body only, yeah, I like that form of combat better.
Strength versus strength. No metal. However, that technique obviously wouldn’t kill a Dead One. Of course, with me being a Harvester and him not knowing it gives me a confidence boost. But if the battle did come to the blade, then, and only then, will he be able to eliminate me and send me to the After only by my head being severed.
In a small boat, I rowed to the small island, and I could see a very upset Akira angrily pacing up and down the beachhead, which was lit up by the bright full moon. I couldn’t help but to crack a slight smile because one of Miyamoto’s techniques has worked again. This would prove to benefit me.
As I got closer, he began to yell and holler at me in his native tongue, which I do speak and write.
I rowed onto the beachhead and remained in the boat for a few seconds to anger him even more. And boy did it work.
His face turned bright red as he screamed profanities at me.
It didn’t help his hostilities toward me when I casually smiled at him. I climbed out of the boat with my sword draped to my side. He pointed at my sword and shook his finger no, then pointed to his sword lying on the sand several feet away from him. Obviously, he’s telling me this fight will be without swords like I knew it would be. Time to kick some ass. I approached him and stopped ten feet from Akira.
Simultaneously, we attacked each other with roundhouse kicks and quick, repetitive jabs all over our bodies. Akira was good, really good. After several minutes of this, we backed away from each other and squared off again. Him not besting me sooner has him rattled. I could tell he’s used to defeating foes quicker than this and now Akira appeared a bit intimidated. I didn’t blame him.
Akira slowly moved toward me. What’s his next move? He kicked sand into my eyes, then jumped through the air and landed a furious kick across my face. It spun me around, and I tripped to the sand. Akira knelt beside me and unleashed a flurry of punches and elbow drops. I was able to roll away from him and spring to my feet. He bolted at me while releasing a war cry. I stood my ground and waited for the right moment. Three, two, one, and . . .
The Harvester Page 18