“I see you’ve remembered your lack of tact and decorum, Stark. You never did appreciate all the benefits our group had to offer, never did play by the rules, and you certainly never treated your betters with appropriate respect. Perhaps I was wrong to hold this sentimental little meeting to enjoy a laugh about the good old days.” He looked at Aramis. “I have no need of this man anymore, seeing as how my own spy has taken the time to update me fully on the situation with the Alliance.” Seeing Will’s look of horror, he laughed. “Oh, did I forget to mention that? You see, on the night you vanished from the annals of history, someone else vanished as well. Someone else your Alliance friends drugged into hibernation for two centuries. Thankfully, he escaped the clutches of the evil that is the Alliance, and not long after your little arranged meeting with Porthos. In the process of escaping, he apparently took one or two lives, for he
is
an Assassin, after all.
The
Assassin, in fact. He, too, was surprised to learn how long he’d been away. We had to appoint another Assassin in the interim, so now I have
two
of them to keep busy. You see, they abducted and drugged the man I sent to kill your wife and child. Now he has returned to me, and this very day he will end your life. Isn’t that simply
perfect
? Oh, and Will?” His smile turned to an evil glare. “They drugged one of their greatest enemies, The Assassin, just like they drugged you. What does betrayal to that degree feel like?” The Hunters all laughed, as the Leader looked at him, triumphant.
Will fumed. He added another short-term goal. He’d planned to use his Energy to escape, assuming he could overcome Aramis again, and failing that, he’d use his nanos to help out. He didn’t have a lot, just a very basic allocation, but it should be enough to do what he needed done. Now, though, he would avenge Hope and Josh first. He’d simply have to wait a while longer. And after 189 years, a few more minutes or hours were no big deal.
Aramis came forward, grasping Will by the arm, and he could feel the Hunter’s Damper ability coming to play. The dampering effect in this building negated the impact Aramis had, since there was little Energy left to suppress. But Will played the part, acting a bit more unsteady on his feet and lightheaded, and allowed Aramis to lead him away from the throne of the Leader and back to the elevator.
Once inside, Aramis spoke. “You really lost your memory? Wow. It must be horrible to be executed for crimes you don’t remember committing.” The Hunter snickered.
“You told me that my death sentence was for being the father of my son, Aramis. I very much remember him, and I remember his mother as well, and every single moment I spent with both of them. They were the two most amazing people I’ve ever met. If my relationship with them is considered a crime by this group, then I am proudly guilty as charged.”
Aramis snorted. “Humans are unstable, though. Given enough time, both of them would have lost interest in you, or betrayed you in some fashion. Sounds like they would have been perfect fits with your Alliance, wouldn’t they?”
“If living forever makes you such a cynic, Aramis, I’m rather pleased that you’re taking me somewhere to die. I’d hate to be a miserable old coot like you, bored out my mind, with no one to love or to love me.”
Aramis was silent after that.
The elevator did not stop in the lobby, but continued to a floor labeled Lower Level 7. Will assumed it was underground, and Aramis confirmed that. “The building that’s visible is where the humans do their work. Other than the penthouse suite the Leader commands, we work underground, out of sight of the humans, and they can’t get in without Energy. We’re discouraged from doing Energy stuff in the main building; it has decent dampering capabilities in the walls, not so much to stop anything, but to remind us where we are. No such restrictions on the Lower Levels, though. Usually we just teleport down here, but I figure using the human-invented elevator to escort their champion to his final end is more fitting.” He smiled in triumph.
The doors opened. “Seventh level of hell, right this way,” Will muttered.
They headed down a long hallway, and reached a door with a name in a language Will could not understand. A simple plaque hung on the wall near the door, however, simply reading: “The Assassin.” Will noted to himself that this was the first time in two months he’d actually entered a room via a door. Or perhaps it was the first time in two centuries.
Aramis knocked on the door with the hand not used to control Will. “Enter,” an icy voice said from inside. Will felt a chill inside him. This was the voice of the man who had killed his wife, and who had silenced the voice of Josh before Will had ever heard his son speak. Yet even without knowing that, he could detect a sense of pure evil in the man.
Aramis opened the door and they walked in. A man sat in a simple chair, dressed entirely in black, sharpening the blade of a familiar-looking short sword, the edge visibly razor-thin and glinting. So this is how they planned to kill him, then? With a giant knife? Will had been hoping for something less painful. Then again, he was hoping not to die at all, so the chosen method of execution was moot.
“Today, I finish what was started so long ago, Will Stark,” the man said, his voice a whisper. He glanced at the blade, checking the sharpness on the tip of his finger. Will could see the blood drip down onto the floor, despite the very light pressure he’d used. Will focused on the blade, directing half of his small batch of nanos to cover its surface, and he made ready to direct the machines to alter the attempt at mortally wounding him. He directed the other half onto his skin to act as a shield; he’d need to both alter the trajectory of the blade, and bounce it off of his skin, to avoid serious injury. Adam had told him that this was the approach he’d used to save Will from the sword attacks in his backyard that night so long ago, though Adam undoubtedly had more nanos to work with. It would need to be enough.
The Assassin stood up, facing Will. The man’s head was shaved clean, marred by dozens of deep gashes that had scarred over. His eyes — irises and pupils alike — were a deep blood-red. The image, the voice, the aura of pure evil — Will knew this man was a gifted killer.
Aramis remained behind his prisoner, with his right hand firmly planted on Will’s left shoulder. The Assassin glared at the Hunter. “Aramis, I don’t want to hear any complaints about blood on your outfit.”
Aramis shook his head. “If I let go of Stark, he teleports out of here. The dampers don’t work down here like they do above ground. So, I’ll stay put. Just try to be careful. Oh, and one more thing?”
The blood-red eyes remained unblinking.
“Right. Like you said, at least
try
to keep the blood away from me. Carry on, then.” Seeming to be concerned about this, Aramis moved so that he wasn’t directly behind Will, and formed closer to a 45 degree angle with him, believing it would put him farther away from Will’s splattered blood.
The Assassin tossed the sword handle back and forth in his hands, as if deciding which should have the honor. He settled on his right, and advanced to within two feet of Will.
Everything after that was a blur.
The Assassin pulled his blade back and jabbed it forward with tremendous force and speed, attempting to run it through Will.
Will moved his nano-shield down to the targeted area of his body and condensed the shield, forming an impenetrable barrier. At the same time, he had the nanos on the blade force the trajectory away from his body.
The blade, initially on target for Will’s abdomen, slid to Will’s left, striking the nano-shield on Will’s oblique muscle area, and bouncing off to The Assassin’s right.
Sensing that he was safe on this pass, Will pulled the nanos off the sword and onto his back, to prevent The Assassin from trying to stab or slash him as he pulled the blade back for another attempt.
The combination of the redirection and the bounce off the shield turned the blade, still at full speed, at a 45 degree angle to Will’s body, directly at the Hunter.
The blade had barely slowed down when it entered Aramis’ body, and did not stop until the tip exited through the man’s back and clothing.
All three men were in shock. Aramis looked down at the growing red stain on his clothing, and realized it was a fatal wound. He dropped down to his knees, looked up at The Assassin, and said, “I told you not to get any blood on me.” He fell forward into The Assassin’s legs, before the man could release the hilt. The Assassin tried to pull the blade out of the dying man’s body, all the while keeping his eyes on Will.
With the Damper of Aramis released, Will suddenly had full use of his Energy. He could teleport out now, but there was work to be done, and deaths to avenge. He hurled himself at The Assassin, knocking the man to the floor, separating the killer from his sword. Aramis’ body crumbled to the ground.
Stark, listen to me. Will blinked, continuing to wrestle The Assassin, trying to get his hands on the man’s throat. I’m on your side now, Stark. Listen carefully inside your head, but keep fighting. They’re watching us.
Will threw a forearm at The Assassin’s head.
That hurt. They’re watching. We must make this convincing.
The Assassin suddenly shifted his weight, and Will found himself on his back, staring up into a face lined with deep lacerations hardened into scars.
Why should I believe you?
Will projected.
The Assassin punched Will in the head, and Will felt a bit woozy.
One of the Alliance people gave me a potion. Makes me have to do what he wants. He wanted me to get you out of here, but in a way that lets me keep working here, spying on the Elites.
The Assassin threw another punch, and Will shifted away at the last instant, causing The Assassin to curse out loud as his fist hit the hard floor.
I’m listening
. Will tried to roll into The Assassin and take advantage of the man being off balance, but the man shifted his own weight, and Will was driven back into the floor.
Here’s an area outside our building you can teleport to in a few moments.
Will saw an image of a small copse of trees near the Aliomenti building, and saw where the sidewalk was.
I need you to block this punch.
The Assassin threw a punch at Will, who blocked it with his arm.
Now throw me, and the gun will fall out
.
Gun? Will whipped his body, and The Assassin flew off him, landing hard several feet away. In the process, a small gun fell out of a holster hidden under the man’s belt, landing between Will and The Assassin. Will didn’t need to be told the next step. He snatched the gun before The Assassin could recover and sprang to his feet, aiming the gun at The Assassin while flipping the safety off, his look of fury not faked.
You killed my family. I think you expect me to be merciful here. Merciful would be shooting you in the head and killing you with no pain.
Will aimed the gun at the man’s head.
No! You must say that out loud, but shoot me in the shoulder, the leg...somewhere it won’t be fatal. Tell me it’s a crueler fate to suffer
. And Will realized that he was correct on that point. Living with your failures was punishment; death was mercy.
“You expect mercy from me, don’t you?” Will asked. “You think I’m going to take this gun, which looks a lot like my gun, and that I’m going to shoot you in the head so that you die quickly. That I’ll kill you to avenge my family.” Will aimed lower, at the man’s groin, and The Assassin winced. “I think I’d rather you suffer, though.” Will shifted to point at the man’s leg.
The Assassin laughed out loud. “You fool! What makes you think the gun is actually loaded?”
It’s loaded. Shoot me. Gloat.
Will pulled the trigger, and The Assassin screamed in pain as muscle was shredded and bone was shattered, blood spouting from the wound.
Good shot, oh that HURTS! You may shoot me again if you see fit, but know this, Will Stark. Oh that HURTS! Know this...I failed to complete my mission that night. Go! They’ll be coming for you!
Will froze temporarily, and then recovered. “It appears to be loaded. I’ll check again, just to be sure.” He pointed at the other leg and shot him again. The screaming began anew, even more agonizing. “Suffer long,” Will said, glaring at the man. After recalling all of his nanos, he pictured the area outside, and teleported out of the building.
Good job, Will Stark.
Will could hear the agony in the man’s thoughts.
Tell my boss I did well.
“But I don’t know who that
is
,” Will said, to no one in particular. He flipped the safety on and took in his surroundings.
He was outside the massive building, and near the sidewalk. There was no sign of any life, human or Aliomenti, on that sidewalk. Will moved to it and began walking, at a casual pace, away from the building. He needed to get off this island, and get back to his new family in the Alliance. To Angel, to Adam, and yes, even to Fil, who was likely rejoicing that Will was gone for good.
It was too far to teleport, though.
He saw a figure emerge up ahead, wearing a dark cloak, with a thick hood covering the head. Will couldn’t tell if the person was a man or a woman, but he distinctly saw a hand emerge from the sleeve, wearing a thick glove, and motion for Will to follow. Will did so. Thus far, his instinct on who to trust had been quite good — at least for staying alive, though not for learning the truth — and he sensed this person was there to help. This cloak was definitely
not
being worn by Porthos.