Sometimes a man with nothing good left to die for, can live with nothing to lose.
A kid was running through a field. The dream always started like that, with the boy moving or doing some sort of action. It was always him, the protagonist, the center of that whole reality that never seemed to disappear or change form, remaining a stagnant reminder of times past. True, such things are usually referred to as memories, but calling such instances “memories” would lower the impact they really had on our subject of interest.
For that kid wasn’t just running through a simple field like so many others before him. He wasn´t carrying a stick pretending it to be a sword, he wasn’t laughing or enjoying his time with good company, and he certainly wasn’t enjoying a picnic outside with his parents and friends watching him… the kid was carrying a CZ-805 assault rifle, manufactured in the Czech Republic and chambering a 5.56 millimeter NATO grade bullet intended to kill. He was running alone, his footsteps smashing into mud puddles as bullets whizzed past him and explosions roared mere feet away from where he dashed. The kid had lost his parents when that hell started and the few demented and twisted friends he had left were in no position to help him out
The Kid was running through a field… and that field was on fire, figuratively and literally.
Most would believe him to be someone around the age of 13 or 14, but he had hit his first decade not a month before that moment. He looked quite older for his age, he always had, a nice trait when being a child soldier and having to endure both the people pitying and the monsters taking advantage of him. His running was more of a soft jog with small sprints to put off whoever would try to take him out and encourage his would-be attackers to concentrate on someone else.
He jumped into a foxhole, firing his weapon without a second thought and eliminating the two men sitting on the mud and shell casings of their machinegun position. Those two men probably had a family, people that cared for them and enjoyed their company… by all regards, they looked like normal people thrust into a situation outside their control. But the Kid still envied them nonetheless, for he had no such future to speak of. The only future he had was a dark, bleak hole from where no light could come out.
A 3rd man attempted to get the jump on him, but a bullet struck him on the back of the neck, making his body drop right next to the Kid, just as he raised his thumb above the foxhole. He was signaling his guardian angel, a sniper that only had eyes for him and his immediate surroundings. A being that would eliminate any threat before him as he cleared the way forward, someone able to jump through time to accomplish the impossible. Someone a thousand times more extraordinary than the Kid in many regards, a fact even he acknowledged.
He picked up the machinegun inside, an FN Minimi chambering 7.62 NATO, turned it around and began firing at targets to his direct right, catching them off-guard and with no cover to protect themselves with. The 7.62 round, being quite a large bullet intended for long distance engagements, began smashing through soldiers, turning them into minced meat and leaving their dismembered bodies for the muddy floor and explosions to eat up. It took him 30 seconds to go through the entire box of ammunition, and not once did he scream or change his expression to one of anger or respite. He merely kept an expressionless visage as he continued murdering those that he could consider as hostiles.
He dropped the gun to a side and continued running forward, seeing that there were no more hostiles next to him and that the explosions were going further and further away. He had to keep up with them, for those howitzers and mortar rounds were probably the only thing keeping him alive, with men too afraid to get blown up to look up and aim their sights properly. How did he know that friendly artillery wouldn’t kill him? His rotten luck told him so… it would be too quick and too painless a way to die.
Someone jumped from his hole on the ground and tried to stab him with a bayonet, at such an angle that his guardian angel couldn’t protect him. He brushed the bayonet to a side and fired another burst at the attacker, launching him on the ground. He kept running and heard the shot of a sniper piercing a soldier convinced that the danger had passed. He kept on running and threw a grenade into a hole that spoke in whispers. He kept on running…
When would the field end? When would he be recalled back to earn a rest? What would happen first, the field ending suddenly or him running out of strength and ammunition? He didn’t know and didn’t care. His whole purpose was to run through that field, to clean it up and return to his accursed brethren. That´s all he had to do and think, and so he stopped his mind from reaching conclusions to those questions.
The dream stopped, like many times beforehand. Shrapnel and dirt thrown by explosions remained in the air, immobile as the rest of the environment. The Kid was jumping over the remains of another soldier that had died there weeks before that moment in time, his helmet levitating over his head and bulletproof vest floating, enveloping his torso as if it were a jumper. It was a picture unlike any other, except the colours were brown and grayish and some of the surfaces and faces had become blurry with time.
A new figure appeared on scene, slowly walking towards the floating boy. The figure remembered that scene quite well, along with the smells and sounds. He still felt the smoke and gunpowder in his nostrils, and his ears felt the ringing of explosions, screams and silence just as they had during that maddened rush, 6 years prior. The figure was still having a hard time believing it had been 6 years from that moment… he would be even more surprised if it reached the 7th.
The Kid arrived right next to his younger, frozen self, inspecting everything relevant to that instance, going through the equipment and then to the person before him. It was just like looking at an old picture of oneself, only it was one he would gladly not have to check every single time he went to sleep. It was getting so repetitive he began having a hard time finding anything amusing in them… not that there was anything amusing in reliving mistakes in dreams, that was the punishment he had to go through for all he had done and his enjoyment of it all was secondary at best.
Getting bored of looking at his 10 year old self, he began looking around for any sign of movement that could give away the interaction of the only interloper that he knew could easily infiltrate his dreams. Just as he was about to give up on his search, he heard a voice right behind him:
“You were cuter when you were young.”
He didn’t even jump or act surprised when the girl appeared behind him. It was one of her gags, and she knew full well that it had stopped being funny years before. Still, she pulled it off time and time again, as if to keep her madness in check in case she gained any semblance of sanity. Such was the destiny of the girl before the Kid. Someone he had come to fear and respect when alive, a person that put her whole being behind her dreams and who inspired awe and bloodlust into a group of walking corpses of which he had been a part of… she was Sabrina, Sabi to all of her friends and Farseer to the rest of the world.
She pulled her long, ashen hair back, revealing her mostly unperturbed, long face with those determined eyes that never seemed to get tired or to even doubt. By his calculations, the Kid gathered that he was still 2 years younger than this version of her, even though in reality they were separated by an 8-year gap in time. Such was the way that interactions with dead individuals went.
“I mean, take a good look! That curly hair of yours always looked much better long, even if it made grabbing it a lot easier… your eyes looked a bit more alive, although that isn’t the case anymore, now is it? You are taking baby steps after all, huh!? Being 16, one would think that you´d go a little faster!”
“…”
“… Silence again? What, too afraid to talk to a dead girl? Or a girl in general? I thought that, since you and the Timestopper got along so well, that she might have helped you out with the ladies on the long run. Come on, don´t tell me you haven’t tried in all this time!?”
“…”
“You know, I realize that I come here a lot, but it´s just so great seeing you change so much in so little time!! 4 years ago, you got the 2nd chance you never deserved, and just a few months later you got work doing what you do best… oh, but didn’t that backfire a couple of months back? Now you are not so sure about your dream job, are you?”
“…”
“And that´s why they sent you here… to the place where none of our kind belong. I wonder how long you´ll last… who knows, you´ll probably do great in the end!”
“…”
“You always did great, C, so I expect nothing less from-“
She blinked out of existence mid-sentence, another one of her unfunny gags that also served as a reminder that the dream was ending. The Kid sighed, realizing that the Old Crone, the entity behind such torture, was probably laughing at his misery, cackling with that screeching howl that managed to freeze the hearts of the courageous and brave, a laugh that only filled him with disgust and hatred for the one being responsible for every mishap in his life.
The shadows began engulfing him , quickly tearing his body apart in seconds along with the entire dream. It had happened thousands of times before, so he didn’t quite act surprised at all. He simply voiced a remark out loud, one he thought was fitting.
“Third time´s a charm… or so they say.”
He opened his real eyes. The field had vanished, and before him there was only a concrete ceiling and under him a large and comfortable bed. Time had gone almost 7 years into his present, to a life that not even the best oracle in the world would have foretold him. He was back to reality, one as real as it could get, to his job as a shepherd dog instead of a wolf. To the eyes of his protector and the company of heartwarming fools.
He looked to a side, to both of his table clocks, one for the actual time of day and the other to count the amount of minutes of sleep he had managed during that dream. The counter read 42, a number that was in the lower half of his usual sleep practices. The maximum amount of time he had managed to sleep in one sitting had been 2 hours, and only because his body had been too exhausted after a long shift.
He got up, knowing that it would take a while before sleep got back to him, and walked to his bedroom window, looking down from his 4th floor apartment and onto the city below. A city filled with debauchery, corruption, murder, crime and hatred, where those strong of will or desperate fought against humungous odds to achieve a position among the powerful. A cesspit of a town, built for coal and iron, remaining as the one place in the UK where only those with something to prove or those drawn by bad decisions decided to test their luck.
And the Kid was starting school in that same cesspit because of his work.
2 days beforehand, the Kid learned that vacations were indeed a thing… and that he had been working overtime for the past 8 years without him knowing.
For he was Czesch Travaly, an underage military contractor employed by UK-based private security company Blue Sparrow. Recruited by former field operative of the Special Operations Team (SOT, in short), Allan Bishop, at the start of the Czech Civil War as an interpreter at first, then as a front line soldier. Part of the infamous children-only squad of the loyalist army, commonly known as the “Cub Pack” or the “Death Squad”. Captured at the end of the conflict and rescued by the current leader of the SOT, Vivienne Iargal. Brought in the company proper at age 13, becoming part of the SOT officially at age 14. Taken part in several operations since then, including, but not limited to, assassinations, timed escorts, data retrieval, compound security, hostage rescue, training regimes and several logistic operations in Central Europe, South-East Asia, Africa and South America.
To say Blue Sparrow was a mere “security firm” would be like stating that other companies in the business didn´t have their own private armies as well. The zones in conflict around the world were the perfect place for companies like Blue Sparrow to have profits in, even though most of the stable currency came from 1st world countries like the US or England, where a climate of uncertainty and violent action had forced big companies to turn to external security for protection of their assets. Blue Sparrow specialized in that, but also had a ton of takes on other baskets, like dealing classified information to investigation bureaus (Specially MI6) or providing logistical help in war-torn countries.
Czesch was happy with that kind of life. It was a nice balance between his hatred for meaningless death and violence and as a way to fill the void of never-ending conflict. He had people that depended on him and people he depended on. Plus he was getting paid, a small amount when compared to his colleagues, but quite big being so young. He had a great amount of savings after many operations, which granted him some relief.
What didn´t grant him relief was a call from his boss. She was always toying with her employees, seeing which ones buckled under pressure sooner rather than later. She loved that kind of ordeal. She had her favorites, her “enjoyables”, her “disliked” and the shit-listed. And Czesch had spent the last 4 years jumping around each of those…, as of late, he had been for the longest time in the shit-list.
Vivienne, his coordinator, had told him not to worry, but Vivi was good for that kind of thing, reassuring someone about to get demolished. Czesch stopped by the door remembering her words. “As long as you don´t say anything to piss her off, you´ll be good!”. Helpful words, especially considering he always fucked up when talking to her. He always let his guard down and spoke freely when faced upfront, except in those rare instances where he perceived her anger.
He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the closest thing to trench warfare he faced outside of combat. He knocked on the door twice. His boss was like that, she hated receptionists and liked things done in duplicates.
“Who is it?”
Her voice was at least at a normal level, not overly annoyed, not joyful. Good sign.
“Vivi said you called for me”
He couldn´t help calling Vivienne by her nickname. Much shorter… plus, he liked it a lot more.
“Oh, Czesch… come in, come in!”
The door was a bit heavy. Making something already sturdy bomb-proof does add some weight to it. Her office was decorated with all sorts of souvenirs from different parts of the world. It was common practice to give a present from one of your ops to the boss, and whoever got the most interesting one would get a bonus that month. Some of the stuff in that office Czesch had pillaged himself. It wasn´t anything out of this world, though. Each of the contractors had their own weird collection fetish, Czesch included.
His boss, Marianne, “Mary” for friends and “Ma´am” to most of the souls in the company, even the higher ups, . A sturdy, strong woman well in her forties, brazen ashen short hair accompanying her petrifying emerald-like eyes. To further reinforce that idea of strength, a few scars showed up at certain points of her face, scars that hadn´t aged well with her. To Czesch´s knowledge, she was the only person that could run a company like Blue Sparrow and retain her sanity. She also had this aura of certainty around her that made you respect her above everything else. Reason enough for being put in charge.
“Take a seat, Czesch, we have some business to take care of”
The word “business” inspired no confidence. That could be just about anything. Czesch took a seat, putting his best poker face to hide his growing anxiety. He would rather take on a mechanized battalion than have a face-to-face with Mary.
“Well, this is definitely going to sound weird but… well, I might as well do it right now… Welcome to Blue Sparrow! Hope you are productive during your time here!”
Czesch thought he had misheard. Then he repeated those same words inside his head.
“Ummm… what?”
“Errr… how do I put this? You… Well, we couldn´t really enlist a 12 year old in our company, that´s just bad business. So, for all this time… you have actually been working without a proper contract.”
“But I do have the contract. Doesn´t that-“
“Any judge or lawyer who wanted to double-check would find that null and void in a matter of seconds. Hiring children so young is unethical work conduct and illegal. We are just making it official now, that´s all.”
Silence entered the room and stayed for a while. Czesch didn´t know what to say and Marianne was waiting for him to say something. Finally, she spoke.
“You… you aren´t mad? Even a little bit angry?”
“Me? Why would I be?”
“Well, you have basically been working for free… technically speaking, you have been getting a salary, but it is penance to what we give to most people here, even some interns.”
“I don´t really mind it that much. Compared to what I had before this, I´d take this any day.”
“That´s really good to know, Kid.”
That was one of his nicknames. “Kid” was the most common one, the one everyone used in the company to refer to him. During the war, “Wolf” or Svudnik was the way he was baptized, although he had decided against using that name again. Then again, sometimes the name would pop up to remind him. “Kid” was where it was at, and he didn´t mind it at all.
“You called me just to tell me that?”
“Not at all. This ordeal has further reaching consequences.”
Silence. Czesch wouldn´t ask and Marianne was waiting for him to do so. She finally sighed in disappointment.
“Czesch, dear, you are absolutely no fun sometimes, you know that? This silence means that I´m waiting on you to ask a pertinent question.”
“Well, Mary, I-“
“What did you call me?”
“I-I mean, Ma´am, it´s a bit hard to know what you are thinking about half the time!”
“That´s just because you are young… and a bit of a punk.”
“What are these consequences you speak of, oh-so-magnificent matriarch?... Better?”
“You went overboard with it, don´t push your luck again.”
Marianne took a sip of a mug on her table. It was a special coffee blend imported directly from Colombia. Czesch had overheard that she was absolutely addicted to that stuff.
“So, Czesch… did you know you had vacations?”
“1st time I´ve heard of it”
“Sarcasm is unbecoming of you… I´d expect that from Nathaniel.”
“I did learn from the best…I think it´s growing on me.”
“Don´t let it. Otherwise, we might have to remove it like a tumor.”
“Well, I just… I never really thought of it. Besides, I have plenty of spare time between ops.”
“Spare time and vacation are different things altogether. We can call you whenever we want in your spare, whilst in vacation we would only do so on a special assignment.”
“And since I´m in the SOT that means… always?”
“Not at all. You know Nathaniel and Robert have taken theirs sometimes.”
“Wait, that was vacation!? The bastards told me they had called in sick!”
“I can´t believe you are dumb enough to believe everything those nutjobs tell you.”
“Well, it´s not like I need vacation. I´m having a pretty good life going on like this.”
“Well then… here, your next assignment!”
Marianne dropped a dossier on top of the table in front of Czesch.
“Errmmm… Ma´am? I´m already working on those two logistic routes at Panama and Peru… plus, I´m helping the S.A.S track down that crazy warlord in Zimbabwe. I don´t think I can take any more jobs right now… I´m not even sure why I´m handling those in the first place, but-”
“Oh, don´t worry about this one. It´s so easy, even a child could do it.”
That sentence was enough to fire all sorts of alarms. There was so much wrong about that sentence that it made Czesch hesitate on whether to open the dossier or throw it away in case it had an explosive. Better judgement had him open it instead of doing the latter.
… And upon reading, Czesch realized that something was clearly wrong.
“… This is some sort of investigation, right? Terrorist cell inside the country and you want me to check it out?
“It is what it says on the dossier.”
“Ok, ok… Oh, a kidnapping! One of our clients wants to receive a ransom for-“
“We don´t deal with that bullshit. It´s what it says in the paper.”
“… P-Protective detail? Ma´am, you know I swore to-“
“Kid, stop. It is what it says in there, so stop fantasizing.”
“But… it only reads “Research on public education and conduct”… and the duration is almost a full year…”
“Consider it your vacation… we are sending you to a school in Harville, get you acquainted with the rest of us mortals. A bit of experience in the civilian side of things will ease up a lot of tension, and you are still at a learning age.”
“I…”
Czesch was about to raise an objection, a rebuttal… to say something. He closed his mouth to think more about it and came to a sudden realization.
“Vivi put you up to this, didn´t she?”
“She thinks that we are a negative influence to your growth and that you need to be with people your age… pointless, if you ask me, but she has been quite insistent.”
“Karen is my age too, you know. And she isn´t the “unnoticeable” sort of person.”
“She´s in the Armory and, need I stress, NORMAL people your age”
“You got a point there… still… I´ve spent half my life doing this. This is what I want to do for the rest of it. I don´t see how sending me there is going to help in any way.”
“You don´t know that.”
“I do… it almost seems like you don´t want me in here anymore”
“God forbid, no!! You are one of our best! And you work for less than half! You are too good to simply throw away”
“Then why this? Why send me to a school as if I were a normal kid? You know I won´t fit in at all and it´ll just drive me off from the important stuff I´m-“
“Now, hear me out… Vivienne and I talked about this for a while now and, even though you say it is your choice, she and I know the truth… the fact is, you were never given another choice to pick.”
Czesch was about to speak, but he realized that Marianne´s words, though harsh, were reality in itself. He waited for her to go on.
“You have spent most of your time fighting, one way or another. Those 4 years in Czechia did a number on you, molded you into what you are today. You weren´t given a choice in whether you wanted a war or not, you were simply thrown into it with no way out alive. Most of the people in here had an education, friends and a life before wanting to fight for money… you get where I´m going with this…”
He leaned back on his seat, sighing at the inevitable conclusion.
“…You want me to experience “life”… the real one, so I can grow better as a person…”
“In essence, yes. That´s the gist of it.”
He leaned forward, looking at her dead in the eye. Her emerald-like eyes were scary in a way, but it was at moments like those when he found the strength to face them.
“Well, you know my answer then, the same I´ve given to every company psychologist. I´m not wasting time with stuff like this.”
“Are you completely sure?”
“… Ma´am… fate may have thrown me at the gates of hell, but it was my choice to open them. I won´t blame circumstance or chance for my faults, and I don´t deserve any redemption for them… so, if you excuse me…”
Czesch got up and made his way for the door. He didn´t deserve a normal life. He didn´t even deserve a shot at it. It was ludicrous to even think about it.
“Is that so? Well, aren´t you a poet all of a sudden?”
“I write and play songs, Ma´am. It´s part of it.”
“Well then, Vivi said I shouldn’t go through with this, but fuck it, she´s too naïve to see that sometimes you need a hard hand with kids.”
“What are you talking about? As I said, I´m not doin-“
“Contract F20054: Baorica family… contractor in charge of the operation: Czesch Tra-“
“Wait, stop! Stop reading that!”
It was unlike him to have bursts like that. Experience had taught him that people that go through what he had been through leave them either emotionless or crazy beyond repair. For some reason, he had landed somewhere in between, at that meant he wasn’t completely broken, nor undeterred.
“Why? I´m just reading a contract report… oh, wait, that´s right… you fucked this one up royally, didn´t you?”
“Mary, I swear to god, I´m going to-“
“Do what, huh? Attack me? Insult me? Call me Mary? I knew I should have started with this to get your bloody attention, but Vivienne wanted me to be tactful with you, give you the kid´s version of it… well, fuck tact and fuck the bloody kid´s version.”
She wasn’t quite mad, only at a level of annoyance more becoming of her position. It had been very much like hitting a landmine, only this one was of the sort one can´t deactivate.
“What are you going on about now?”
“You aren´t doing this for some humanitarian reason to save your soul or some bullshit like that. I´m running a company here, and your personal problems are secondary to the ops. But, if one of those problems is stopping you from doing your job, then it is my problem as well… and your bloody problem is protective detail.”
“That may be so, but-“
“Most of our profits come from the one activity you are damned set on not doing anymore. And all because of a fuck up caused by your inability to act like a bloody human being”
“Well, if I´m set to fail, then what is the point of-!?”
“I haven´t finished speaking!!! Vivi thinks that learning how bloody teenagers work nowadays will help setting you on the right track, since they are often the hardest clients to read. That´s the only reason I find this whole thing worth doing… Look, even though sometimes it pains me to admit it, you are better than most at these ops, were it not for the human factor.”
“I just do it by the manual, there is no finesse in what I´d do in this kind of op”
“The point I´m trying to make is that you are doing this, whether you like it or not… it´ll certainly eat up most of your time, but you´ll still get called for certain emergency assignments, as usual… you´ll have to come back here once or twice every month to check in too, both with the psychologist and Intel.”
“Mar- Ma´am, I´m telling you this is a horrible idea. I´m… not prepared for this.”
“Oh, is that you going on about how you “aren´t prepared for the op”? How many times do you think I´ve heard you say that already? You are never bloody prepared for an op at the start, you adapt! And that is why we still keep you around… because you are fucking good at adapting.”
“T-This is different! I´m not helping take down a Cartel in Mexico or managing a supply route through Congo! You are asking me to act like a civilian for almost 9 months without any contingency! I kill people for a living, in case you haven’t notice, I can´t just revert to being a 5 year old boy.”
“I never said you had to act like one. I just said you had to adapt to the society you live in, simple as that!”
“I… Ma´am, I´m… I´m a bloody monster, you know that much of me…”
“… Oh god, here we go again… better take a seat before starting…”
Czesch took a seat as proposed, gathering his thoughts. The prospect of interacting with people in that sort of way scared him… he had to convince her otherwise, so he tried to use his trump card.
“For the last 8 years, I´ve stopped pretending that I have a future outside of this line of work. Maybe I wasn´t born into it, but I sure as hell never strayed from it ever since I started. I´m… I´m a dead man walking… always was… always will be… and wasting your time and resources for this is just… is just not worth it. You´d be better off using that money on getting us better gear or some shit like that… Well, that´s just my two cents.”
He waited for a couple of seconds, gazing at Mary as she took another swig from her brew. She licked her lips and leaned over to him.
“You know...? Your two cents often come as two pounds, if you catch my drift…”
“I… actually don´t.”
“Well… Let me use words you understand better:
“Either you do this, or we kick you from the SOT… simple as that”
Simple as that it was. Czesch signed as the contractor for the job and went over to pack his stuff. Of course, even though he was in a more “peaceful” operation, he´d still need to pack some firepower with him. Not only for protection, mind you, but also because every company safe house on Great Britain came prepared with a small indoors firing range for personal use, and he didn´t want high school to rust his aim.
That, in turn, was forcing him to get some gear from the armory. His personal gear was for emergencies and official operations only, which meant that for tasks like this one he´d have to borrow something from the company´s own private arsenal. He was quite mad by this entire ordeal, but the fact that he had to get new toys gave him some much needed respite. After all, his style revolved around quick reflexes and adapting to situations… what better way than civilian-esque weaponry?
The man in charge was Gervaise, a grizzled old and bitter man in his late 50´s. The man knew more of guns than anyone in the company, hell, maybe even in Great Britain. He had the temper of an old bull and the word “patience” didn´t enter in his vocabulary, but he had his own charm sometimes that made him really appreciated among other operatives. Adding to that his missing leg and uncanny accent, he almost played the part of a pirate gun dealer.
On his way down, Czesch met up with Nate, his buddy in the SOT. To define Nate as a joker would be a disservice to all clowns and stand-up comedians in the world… he could be funny, mind you, but most of his material was an outright insult to society. He was far better as a marksman, a position that completely turned around his personality and even made his puns funny.
“Yo, Kid! Goin down to the firing range so early in the morning?”
“I have to pick some stuff up, Boss´s orders”
“Yeah, Rob told me you got into some trouble”
“Well, it´s more like Vivi got me into trouble”
“What? Nah, that ain´t nothing like our Vivi. You know she loves you a lot!.”
“Yeah, and that love is probably going to drive me insane at some point.”
“What did she do this time?”
“She´s sending me off to some high school in Harville to “learn how to be a human being”… ME… can you believe that?”
Nate´s smirk shot up at Czesch´s disbelief, pissing him off even further. The smirk also made the scar on his left cheek more noticeable, along with his badly formed teeth.
“… I… I´m actually with her on this one!”
“Oh, come the hell on!! Nate, this was your turn to side with me!”
“Kid, you are growing up, and there will come a day when playing soldiers won´t come as easy as it does… Besides, having a life aside from this one is not so bad. I´ve got Sarah, who I see every once in a while, my dad has decided to talk to me again… hell, even my sister calls me from time to time to have a chat!! You need to experience that stuff as well.”
“Whatever… I still think it´s a waste of time”
“You are not quitting this… think of it as simply… Eehh, I dunno! Expanding horizons!”
“That sounds like one of those stupid TV ads that Buri likes watching.”
“All TV ads Buri watches are stupid”
“Yup”
“Yeah”
Awkward silence ensued. Nate always loved these silences to whistle some of the tunes the group played at the bar in the ground floor. Czesch hated when he did that.
“So, Nate…”
“Hmm? What is it?”
“You really are going down this early as well?”
“What do you mean? I´m always an early bird!”
“Yeah, early for you is 5 p.m… only if you are in a good mood”
“Karen called me to test some new design on an AR-15 Gervaise has been working on. Rob was busy with some deal in Singapore, Buri having a nap and Vivi doing some paperwork, so I was the man for the job… How about you?”
“Getting me some new weapons to try while in the safehouse… something tells me I´ll be burning through ammo quick.”
“Ahh! Then I recommend getting yourself some 45.ACP for that!! You have been using 9mm for way too long and that shooting arm of yours could do with some power.”
“What´s wrong with 9mm? I find it very reliable”
“You won´t burn through ammo as quick with it. Trust me, you won´t go back after you fire a couple of rounds!”
The elevator reached the underground fortress that was the Armory. A bunch of people moving crates left, right and center, all to supply the proper sections in the proper ways. Of course, it only got so busy in the morning, for most operatives tried their weapons during the afternoon. The armory itself was actually managed by Gervaise and his assistant, Karen, with a dozen interns moving ammo and other gadgets to their proper places.
“Alright, I´m off to see the old man… Good luck with Karen, Kid!”
“Yeah, I´ll talk to you later if my brain doesn´t fry from over-exposure to concentrated happiness!”
“Whatever, C… She´ll cheer you up for good, trust me!”
Czesch had never seen Karen down for an extended period of time. To him, Karen had never EVER shed a tear of sadness or cried herself to sleep in a dark night. She was the epitome of joy. She understood the harsh truths of the business she was in, but she wouldn´t let that throw down her passion.
Karen Livaille, the only 16 year old in the company apart from Czesch. She had been adopted at an early age by Gervaise for reasons unknown to this day and, from age 14, she had always come around to help his adoptive father. During the day she would go to school, have fun with some friends and all the things teenagers do, but by night she would always come and help around with weapon maintenance and ammo distribution, her almost prodigy-like mind finding the whole process extremely entertaining. She was acting now, for the first time, as a part-time worker in the company (even though she practically performed as a 2nd manager), which gave her some leeway about going to class… the main reason why she was in the Armory that day in the first place.
She was opening a crate of M4 carbines when Czesch walked in her section. Every time he entered, he always took a good look at her. Blonde, long hair, a face clean from pimples or wounds, broad hips, breasts… Czesch was still young, he had to control those urges. Karen would probably get beaten by most women in a beauty contest, but her natural look plus her overall nature made her the best looking woman in the building, which was the main reason she also helped the bar on her days off. A lot of operatives got enough satisfaction just from seeing her smile.
Karen always noticed this and always started the conversation herself to embarrass Czesch further. Getting him riled up had once been easy, but ever since the Italian incident it got harder and harder for her. She still tried anyways…
“What, caught in your thoughts, Czeschky-kun? Something… catch your eye?”
“Uhh? What?... Did you just call me…. kun?”
“Anything wrong with that?”
“You have been watching those cartoons again, right? Anime, was it?”
“I may have seen a couple of shows since last time, yes, but-“
“How many is “a couple”?”
“About 4. Look, the point is-“
“And some people call me obsessed!! You´ve seen 4 full shows in the span of 5 days, that isn´t healthy at all!!”
“A- 2 of them are still airing next week and B- Calling you Czeschky all the time gets boring, so I want to spice things up”
“Of… Of course you would.”
“So… What brings you down here, cowboy?”
Czeschky was another of Czesch´s nicknames… one only Karen used. He never had the guts of telling her that he hated it, but she probably knew already… main reason why she was still using it.
“Well, I´m here to get some new weapons”
“New weapons? What, your modified AK-12 Rifle “Lightbringer” isn´t good enough anymore?”
“No, no!! That one is still the best gun you´ve ever modified for me! I´m really grateful for it”
“You better be!! Changing up all the stuff inside and have it chamber 6.5mm wasn´t easy, I´ll tell you that much! Fun, but tiresome...why the new weapons?”
“Well, I´m getting a new assignment… the sort where I don´t get to pack my usual lunch”
“Mmmhhmm… So, something more “civilian” oriented, you mean? It was about time they sent you out!”
“Something like that, yeah”
“And how long would you be out?”
“Well, contract lasts for 9 months, but-“
Karen dropped whatever she was holding, probably a box of ammunition, making quite the ruckus. He had seen this coming from a mile away, but he felt it was necessary to get it out of the way as fast as possible. Karen was quick when it came to making preconceived ideas, and the thought of not seeing him for 9 months immediately sprung to mind. They weren’t the closest, but she considered him a very valuable friend within the company.
“No, no no no no no!!! That isn´t right! That isn´t right at all!! I was going to invite you to a theme park, have some laughs and eat a ton of candy floss!! Will you have cellphone coverage? You need to remember to send me a message whenever you can, OK? Call me, text me, just… just don´t forget about us in here, alright? I´ll even send you letters if-
“K, I´m going to Harville… that´s, like, an hour or 2 away from here by train? Besides, I´ll be coming back every once in a while.”
“Oh… oh, that´s… uuhh… that´s good! That´s… great! Fantastic! Wonderful! Hehe… Yeah… yeah…”
There was clearly a hint of sadness in her voice. She had always taken Czesch to some part of the city to have some fun away from all the company related events. He had merely gone with her to appease her, since he didn´t really see the appeal of any of those activities. He just went along to keep her happy and it worked for the most part. But seeing her fake that smile… there was something wrong, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
“You know, Czeschky? I´m going to miss your show. I mean, it won´t be as easy with you away.”
She said so with an extremely apologetic gaze. Czesch gulped in response while composing himself.
“Well, I´ll find time for it. We´ve been working on a couple of new songs that we are going to try out tonight. You should definitely come over.”
“Wouldn´t miss it for anything… By the way, since this is going to be the last in a while… could you play “Blue Metal Heart” for me? Pretty please?”
Czesch nodded, bringing some hope to Karen´s face. The SOT, in their spare time, often played at the bar as the in-house jazz group. Vivi played the trumpet, Nate the contrabass, Rob the sax, Buri the drums and Czesch did the piano and singing portions. They were renowned in the company for being “Quite fucking good”, as a regular once put it, and every night they decided to play, the bar always packed full. It was one of the guilty pleasures they had after a hard day of work, putting all of their pent-up stress into music.
But Karen was still not feeling it. And Czesch needed her to be in her usual state to do her work appropriately. She always tended to be somewhere else in her mind when not feeling comfortable, keeping that masked smile. And he knew exactly what to say to change her mind… after all, Nate had taught him much more than bad jokes.
“Look, K, I´m… I´m sorry I ruined your plans. I really am. I was really looking forward to going out with you again. Sorry about leaving tomorrow without saying a word, I was only informed today… Here, I´ll go with you the weekend I come back. Does that sound good?”
Her gaze shot up quickly and met with his, forcing him to look away while scratching the back of his neck. It always felt awkward whenever she did that.
“… You promise?”
“Contractor´s honor”
He hoped crossing his fingers and saying so would help, but-
“That´s not too reassuring, considering…”
“Well, fine!! Scout´s honor!”
“Hehe… you weren´t even in the-“
“Urgghhh… I promise. When have I ever broken a promise?”
“Well, that one time Vivi told you to-“
“Ok, that ONE time. Apart from-“
“And last month with Buri, you-“
“Look, I promise I´ll get this done, alright? On my life”
He puffed his chest and smacked it twice with his open palm, earning a giggle out of her.
“… Ok… OK… OK! Awesomesauce! Let´s get you ready for undercover work!! Pull yourself together and follow me, 006!”
She was back to her usual self, which gave Czesch some relief. Karen had some really good taste when she was in the mood. And he definitely needed that.
“Let´s see… what did you have in mind, C? Something a little more compact?”
“Yeah, ARs and MGs are out of the question.”
“I see, I see… hmmmm….”
“Oh, also… Nate recommended me to switch over to a 45er for this one. Said I needed some experience with something with a little more punch.”
She chuckled for a moment, but the Kid believed that she was just hiding a burp.
“Nate talking out of his ass, as usual… but he has got a point, you are not used at all to those…How about a USP? You can change it to a 9mil one of you don´t feel it working, but for now I´ll leave you with the tactical variant. Remember it´s an 8 rounder, it´s usually a shot or 2 for a killing shot instead of the usual 3 of the 9mm.”
Karen looked around boxes, finally finding the desired weapon. She handed it over to Czesch, who started inspecting it in detail. He wasn’t as much of a gun nerd as she was, but the Kid still needed his weapons to feel comfortable in his hands.
“Grip feels good…Slide needs some adjusting to do…Mag release feels a bit chunky, though… Still, I imagined it would be lighter… that´ll be good. I like it.”
Karen snapped her fingers while jumping back to her weapon-selecting duties.
“Glad you do… next up…something you can conceal a little better, in case of an emergency… Walther P99. Your good old 9mil packed in a smaller cage than your typical M9. We got a fresh batch of those a couple of days ago, so you can borrow this one for the time being.”
“Appreciate it. Glad to have something modern on my hands.”
His sidearm of choice had always been a CZ-75, a pistol to remind him of his homeland. It wasn’t a bad gun by any means, but he had been using it for quite a long time.
“Next up… an SMG or Carbine… something with a little more punch…”
“Hey, do you finally have the PP-90s I wanted?”
Out of all the weaponry Czesch was interested in, he had always been left curious about the so called “suitcase guns”, sub machineguns so small that they folded into compact briefcases. To some in the private security business, they were the best weapons one could get… if they weren´t Blue Sparrow or Blackwater.
“Provider had none left by the time we got to it. Really sorry about that”
“It´s alright. You could probably have more luck with the FMJ-9”
“I´ve come to trust Russians more when it comes to SMGs… don´t ask why, they usually end up delivering… I got an idea! Here… This is a Mk17 I repurposed as a carbine. The version they made themselves a bit too cumbersome for my taste, so I took some liberties with it… I know what you are thinking. “7.62 in a carbine… you are crazy!””
“Well, it wouldn´t be my first option, no.”
“Well, you are already packing a 45er and a 9mil with you. You are set for close quarters. You need something with a bit more range, but reliable for a quick spray indoors. And what better than 7.62 in a compact case?”
“What better than a SCAR, am I right? I must say, it has been a while since I´ve used 7.62 in an automatic. Will definitely need some refreshing to do on it.”
“That should be it… Oh, wait! Almost forgot! Also packing a Dragunov suitcase with everything!”
His eyebrow shot up at the sudden introduction of a marksman rifle. He wasn’t a long distance shooter by any means, his specialization was close quarters in confined spaces.
“I… I don´t think I´ll need to fire one of those any time soon.”
“It´s an assembly thing, more than anything. You were always a bit slow with it, so I thought some extra practice wouldn´t be bad… if you don´t want it, I can just-“
“No, no! If it´s that, it´s perfect! You can keep it in there.”
“Great, well… that should be everything! 2 handguns, modified carbine, Dragunov case, magazines, ammunition, extra parts of each gun, cleaning tools… yeah, everything seems to be in order! The usual SOT recipe, coming right up!”
She grabbed a tablet and a notepad, accessing different files and writing down on paper the different transactions of inventory so that they had both a virtual and a physical mark on the register. Her eyes always seemed to dart around while doing so, never truly staying in one spot for more than a millisecond.
“Cool… I´ll fill the papers up right away.”
“Don´t forget to fill in that blank check at the 3rd page…”
“Hey, that happened only once!”
“5 times, according to the boss”
“What does that old man know, anyway?”
“That you are still a bit of a knuckle-head, Czeschky!”
She tapped her head with her fist while winking, forcing a slight chuckle out of him.
“Look who´s talking…”
He finished up filing the paperwork. It was a tedious process, but there had to be a scrict protocol when it came to handling firearms. One fuckup and the staff at the Armory, Karen included, would get into serious trouble with the government. Gun policies had been light for a long time, but that didn’t mean they were non-existant.
“Alright! Everything seems to be in order!! I´ll have some Ants deliver the goods to the safehouse first thing in the morning!”
“Ants? Talk about treating companions with respect…”
“Hey, Uncle Gervaise calls them “Filth”. Besides, I consider that a compliment: They may be small, but without them nothing around here would work.”
“Well, I agree on that one…”
Another awkward silence. In Czesch´s mind, this would be the day of the awkward silences. He didn´t know how to follow the conversation up, no real topics outside work that sprouted to mind.
“Have you… been getting sleep lately?”
“Huh? What do you mean?”
“Well… you said you had sleeping problems… baaaags…”
She grabbed the skin under her eyes with both her index fingers and started massaging them both, conveying that the bags under his eyes were quite prominent.
“And that comes off as a surprise?... I´m doing fine, K. Don´t worry. It´s been getting a bit rough some nights, but I´ll be fine.”
“It´s hard not to worry about you, C… but, I´m sure you´ll handle it!!”
“Like I´ll handle tonight´s show…”
“Wait, does that mean… Shit, I almost forgot! That means Vivi came back!”
She tried not to make her jump too obvious, but almost half of the staff heard her feet bouncing off the ground and back at it again. Vivi and Karen got along really well, both of them pestering Czesch whenever they got bored and had nothing else to do for the day.
“Wow, she… actually came back 2 days ago… truth be told, she didn´t come down here a single time.”
“She was probably bust from work… still, good to know she´s back!”
“Yeah, I´ve been itching to play again… how long has it been since the last time? You are our biggest fan, after all. You do keep track of it, right?”
He couldn’t help but produce the most smug face he could muster. True, he was no people person, but even then he realized that Nate´s comments often helped him not be as robotic when speaking to others.
“I´m offended you even have to ask! Last time… that was 2 weeks ago.”
“Well, I´m off to my afternoon nap… be sure to come over tonight, around 10.”
“Couple of new songs, eh? Did Vivi help?”
“In some of them. Lyrics are all mine, though.”
He meant it as if it were an accomplishment, pointing at himself with his thumb. It really wasn’t, but he had to feel pride about something.
“I wouldn´t have it any other way. You are actually really good with them.”
“Well, did you know Buri actually wanted to be a singer?”
“You are kidding, right? He has a singing voice that makes cats shriek!”
“Main reason he was never able to become one, but he has a really fast mind for lyrics. He taught me some really good tricks, you know.”
“It definitely shows… well, I have to sign some papers now. Some daft intern dislodged a box of AK´s where the AR-15s are supposed to go and another dropped a box of ammo. Someone needs to take responsibility of the damages and… why are you smiling all of a sudden?”
He hadn’t noticed himself smiling. He had been so caught up listening to her talking about her work so disinterestedly that he hadn’t taken into account how he´d react.
“Huh? Oh, it´s just that… I really like it whenever you try and protect those under you. It…it brightens up my day.”
“Oh, Czeschky!! You can be so sweet sometimes!”
Karen´s powerhugs were probably worse than any strangling technique designed by any martial artist. They were the main reason compliments like that were in short supply when she was around… and it was hard as hell, since complimenting her came off so easily. He regained his breathing after half a minute of a choking hold worthy of black belts.
“Well, don´t keep that paperwork waiting!! You know Mary gets mad whenever we don´t file the proper papers.”
“You know she gets even madder when you call her by name… well, see you tonight, C!”
“Catch you later, K!”
And with that Czesch went to pack his remaining belongings and have another 30 minute nap. He´d need it for the night´s show. He´d also need it to talk with Vivi afterwards… although he didn´t really want to chat with her. Not with how mad he would become.
Him and anger were an awful combination… more than people realized.
The night started off smooth enough. The bar was full as always, surprisingly with a lower amount of contractors than usual. Most people were actually going in there because of the cheap drinks and little else, since the bar was open to the public. The S.O.T barely had time to chat as they were thrust into their scenery, with the instruments already put in place.
Each of the members started toying with them, Nate fooling around spinning the huge bass in place, while Czesch told everyone the order they would follow. He was also in charge of making any last minute arrangements before a song, like telling Vivi to go higher than Rob in a certain part, or Buri going timbals only. With everything set, the group started to play.
They started with one of the new ones, “Splitting Disaster”, which came off as a surprise for most of the common clients. It was a more “soul”-oriented ballad, with some high spikes here and there. Reception was good for the most part, although some parts would need tweaking. It was a passion song, one about a Sabi, the one person still invading his dreams… a song was as good a place as any to drop her in.
Second on the list was an old classic, “Won´t you wanna dance?”. It was one of the favourites at the bar and almost everyone in there knew the chorus. Czesch and the gang had come up with it after talking nonsense for half an hour during a hot day in Venezuela. It simply went “Won´t you wanna, won´t you wanna, won´t ya, won´t ya now?” over and over… and people went crazy with it every time.
Right next was another new one, “Feuer Frei”, a mix of german and English lyrics with a semi-ballad type of style, retelling the events of the bombing of Dresden in WW2. Czesch had read about it and, having survived a similar bombardment himself, he thought it would also serve as a reminder that those types of atrocities still happened to that day. The reception on this one was mixed, but people were expecting new songs that night, so, overall, people seemed to enjoy and even comprehend the respect given for the subject matter.
4th song of the night came to “Blue Metal Heart”, to Karen´s recommendation, who was cheering loudly with the other fans, clapping and jumping while singing it herself. Another upbeat tune and more transcendental lyrics served on a platter. Czesch took a shot of vodka after this one to ease his throat into more lyrical work, Rob reprimanding him on the intake of alcohol. Being the team medic, it was the least he could do.
Next up, “Jam to the Bells”, another one of the experiments. This one featured an ever changing chorus that kept the guests guessing the next part and was more of a humorous song than a reflective one. The audience fell in love with it, one or two falling down from their seats from both the alcohol and laughter.
To close the act, since their top was always 5 and there was always a final encore, Vivi and Czesch played one of the oldies, “Fly with Wings of Scarlet”, a more instrumental version of the song retrofitted for piano and trumpet with a few lyrics thrown in between. The others had work early in the morning, so only Vivi and Czesch could remain for the encores most of the time. The song, as usual, was a booming success, with a metric ton of clapping and whistling.
He looked over at Vivi while playing, taking in her short, auburn hair as she moved around him, at times playing her trumpet calmly and then following him up, singing with her mezzo voice that seemed melodious when singing, but which became powerful when under fire. Being the coordinator for the SOT, she was the strongest woman Czesch knew, even when about to reach her 40s, with strength and wit to surpass any other in the security industry. To him… she was like an angel in a sea of degenerates and murderers… including Nate on the former.
After the show, both of them went backstage to freshen up a bit. His hands were burning as if lava had been poured over them, and her mouth was as dry as a desert. Still, both came out with a smile on their faces, laughing. It was the main reason they kept playing, for the fun.
“Whew, was that a performance or wasn´t that a performance, huh!?”
Vivi was always ecstatic after a show like that. She would complain during the jam practice sessions, but it was all worth it when done on stage for her. She smacked Czesch in the back, one of her favourite things to do when either happy or pissed off. Even with her caring nature, she was still a very violent person.
“I´m going to need some tweaking on “Feuer Frei”… some parts weren´t as smooth as I´d have hoped”
“Maybe female vocals? I dunno, it´d sound better with a woman singing instead of you… no offense, but deep vocals don´t go with the lyrics. Needs to be smoother.”
The fact she put on airs as if she were a music expert angered Czesch slightly. After all, she had been the one that had basically told him, “So, I want to make a music group, but I´ve no idea on writing or playing as one, I only learned to blow air through this thing… I´m sure you can make it work!”… and he had. Barely, but he had managed.
“It´s supposed to be an allegory… also, half the lyrics are in German, and it took a long while for me to get the damn words right… but I guess you have a point… will leave that one on the back catalogue for now.”
“What do you think of Nate´s performance? He did fuck up in “Jam to the Bells”
“Well, I would fuck up in that part as well. Contrabass is never meant for such quick playing of it, but I still had to go with that part. Good thing Buri was there to muffle all of it.”
“He really needs to leave the drinks to AFTER we play. One day, he really is going to play drunk with us.”
“Honestly, I think he´d play better that way.”
Both laughed at that remark. Nate did manage to do some amazing stuff while drunk. He was quite an atypical sniper, given the tendency of them being cold, stark and moody… the two main snipers in Blue Sparrow, Nate and Jason, were very much alike in that regard.
“By the way, I talked with Mary after your… interview…”
Czesch fell silent. Rage was starting to build up… and the last person he wanted to shout at was Vivi. He hated arguing with her more so than fighting against insurgents.
“She told me you weren´t exactly “thrilled” by the plan… that she had to threaten you.”
“That she did…”
“You know it was my idea, right?”
“I´m positive it was.”
“Well then… go on, speak your mind”
He grabbed his knees, closing his eyes as well to avoid having to look her in the eye.
“I´m not going to… not today, anyways.”
“Why not? You can still rescind the contract. You have until tomorrow morning”
“Look, I´m not getting kicked out of the team over this nonsense. If I have to do it, I will.”
“But I´m seeing that you are completely against it… I´m trying to help you here, Kid. It´s all I want to do.”
She sat next to him, grabbing his shoulder to provide some temporary comfort… managing the opposite.
“I know… I know…”
“Then, why are you still reluctant?”
“…”
No matter what he told her, she would find a rebuttal in no time. So, he opted for silence.
“Fine, we´ll talk tomorrow… I´m the one driving you there, after all.”
“You are? I thought Mary would send-“
“My idea, my responsibility… we leave at 4 PM, make sure you grab whatever you deem necessary.”
“…”
“I´ll leave you to it.”
Czesch sat alone in the backstage area for 30 more minutes, mulling over it. He knew that Vivi would never do anything with bad intentions when it came to him. She had a really bad temper sometimes, and her sense of humor was to annoy him at every turn, but she was like a mother to the team. A woman in her late 30s, not able to bear children and living off of violence to make up for it… no wonder she acted that way with Czesch. By all accounts, he was the one member of the team that could actually be her son.
All people within Blue Sparrow tried when it came to him was to give him a push or assist when needed. Even Mary, the hard, stoic CEO of the company still had a soft spot for him. He had been through a lot, and everyone close to him knew that. So they were all trying to make his life a bit more manageable, one step at a time. Part of him was grateful… the other resented it greatly.
He went off to grab what little sleep he could, doubting he´d reach the 2 hour mark or expand it any time soon. Still, he somehow still managed to evade sickness for the most part, and his growth hadn´t stopped at all during all those years… much to the contrary, he looked older for his actual age… felt much older than that.
And he would have the nightmares… horrid images of the not-so-distant past. Scenes that burned his psyche and reminded him every day of what he really was. Reminded him that he was meant to die in the cruelest way beyond imagination.
With those scarring dreams, he would try to stop his heart from crying more.
Vivi´s car was nothing fancy. Even though she could probably buy a sports car without any impairment, she decided to go with the more “classical” route and got herself an economic ride. That said, that “economic” car was bomb-proof and a modified engine that could outrun a police cruiser any day of the week. Czesch knew that much. He had seen her pull it off a year before.
They both got in the car, taking the road out the precinct, then out of the city and into the highway. By train, the distance was ridiculously close to Harville´s, but by car it was still quite the trek. Czesch just kept on looking through the window, feigning admiration for the stagnant English countryside. He then remembered something.
“I forgot to ask. How is your brother doing?”
“… He got his ass sent back to Iran.”
“Shit, sorry to hear that… you think it´s bad?”
“Not as bad as other times but… I don´t know anymore.”
“… I´m sorry you have to do this, Vivi. You have probably enough with your brother being sent there, and you have to put up with my shit… I can be really selfish sometimes…”
There was a moment of silence in the car. Vivi then sighed, a smile forming on her face.
“He´s stubborn, can´t stay put and complains whenever he feels like it, but, dammit, he has a bloody heart of gold… that makes him 10 times better than most of the shits I put up with every day.”
“… Bishop, right?”
“Bishop it is”
“Damn old fool… he had me in some sort of pedestal, like I was some sort of Holy Grail.”
“You were a kid he picked up on his way, and he found someone he rather liked.”
“And I picked up other kids on the way, and we turned into the merry band of the walking grim reapers… Not a very good kid´s tale, to be honest. Could do without the killing.”
“It could have. Not much you can change anymore.”
Silence again. This time, Czesch was the one that wanted to talk, wanting to get his point across. He cared deeply for Vivi, and with the information he had…
“Look, Vivi… I… I really appreciate all you do for me. I do, with all my heart. Every day is… it´s like I´m not there anymore, and that´s the best present you guys have given me… but… I don´t want to take over your life. I know you weren´t supposed to do this today, I asked about your brother because I know that he is right now about take the plane , in the opposite direction of where we are going. And you are wasting time getting my sorry ass over to that shitty town when you could be saying goodbye to a person that may-“
Vivi slammed her fist into the steering wheel, making an audible sound, as if she had actually sunk the wheel into the interior of the car. Luckily, the wheel had only been dented and the car had only slightly veered off, her face scrunching up in pain as her hand retaliated.
“Don´t finish that.”
“Sorry… you wanted me to talk, so I have… You don´t have to save my life, Vivi. You already did, I´ve never had this sort of chance before.”
“Did I? Did I save you from the nightmares? From the people you lost? Huh? Did I do it?”
“You did better than anyone could have... and I made it here because of you, so stop hitting yourself over it.”
Czesch put his hand over Vivi´s shoulder. Vivi was a woman that had great control over her emotions, yet her main weakspot was her family, both bloodline and job related. He could almost feel her holding her frustration, without having to tap her back or reassure her in any way. The pressure on her was so great, it was a miracle she still stood like she did.
“I pulled a boy out of hell… a boy that had earned the respect of the man I admired most, his protégé… and I expected him to turn away from all of the things that had ruined his life.”
“Instead, that boy chose to keep on fighting.”
“Indeed he did… the idiot kept saying that he was a “dead man walking” and that the sooner he got it out, the better.”
“He still does.”
“All the memories that boy has made are carved in blood and gunpowder… I´ve tried my best to carve better ones for him, but sometimes… there are certain things that can´t happen.”
“Well, thanks to you, he has them… those nights at the bar, playing music-“
“Not that. I wanted better for him. I wanted him to have what we all had before we chose this life.”
“You wanted him to have a life and- Are you getting tired of referring to me in 3rd person? Because I definitely-“
“I want you to have friends, OK? That´s all I want… that´s all I ever wanted for you.”
Czesch fell silent. He had to think about what that meant, because he wasn’t quite sure of the hidden meaning behind that statement.
“I already have you… and the team… Karen is there, as well as others.”
“People in our line of work can never have a normal friendship… I´m talking about “true” friends. Friends you may like, friends you may dislike. Others that you may want to punch whenever they open their mouths, but you don´t for respect. Friends that constantly fuck up and need your help to get back on their feet… I want that for you, people with clean hands. Counting on just us will never be good enough, C.”
“And you think that´ll make me a better person?”
“That depends entirely on what you do with the time given…”
“And if it´s not enough? What if I can´t mess things up? What happens if I lose control and-?
He felt a fist nudging his head with some strength to back it up. That was Vivi´s of reassuring him that she would back him up, no matter how hard the challenge.
“Just… pretend it´s me… or Nate or Buri… the rest will be smooth sailing.”
Silence again. Vivi regained herself, and Czesch thought long and hard about what to respond.
“I´ll… give it a shot. It´s the most I can promise.”
“It´s better than I expected, given your treatment of clients.”
“Hey, that´s what they get for being complete assholes just because I´m younger than I look!”
“That discretion I had you learn from Nate? Better put it to good use. You are going to need it. A lot.”
“Will try my best… you know I always do… and, from now on, try to focus more on your stuff. I´ll be sure to call if I ever need help.”
“Do call. Otherwise, I´ll think something has gone awry.”
“That I can promise.”
Czesch fell asleep on the car, like many other times before. He had that natural instinct of his that would wake him up in case of trouble, but since there was none he could pretty much sleep anywhere he wanted. Vivienne looked at him from time to time, and, after a while, muttered the following.
“We all have our dead to carry… and while we choose to throw them away and keep on going with our lives, you chose the hardest option… you carry them with you, enduring all the pain that comes from seeing them… and you want to prove to the world that life can work while doing so. You are going to get all the help I can give, and so will the others…
You deserve as much.”
So, there he was. Living in a flat, alone, and about to start school life. He had been given an education at the base beforehand, so he wasn´t exactly starting from scratch. It was the human factor he wasn´t prepared for. How did the schooling system work? How would his classmates react to him? How could he balance out lies and truths from them? He was thinking all that as he entered his new home.
The building where his flat was located was at a middle ground between the center of the city and the outskirts, and about 30 minutes away from his school when jogging there. He had already made research on what the most time efficient route would be and, without a doubt, walking was the best option. He always did that whenever he could in operations. Knowing in what grounds you are fighting usually gives you an advantage over your enemy.
Then again, he thought, there was no real enemy this time. And if he went in there with that mindset, he´d probably be cast out immediately. He had to act smart, taking a middle ground between being a loner and a smartass… but maybe those two were the same in the end. As he was unraveling this mystery, the elevator doors opened on the 4th floor, showing the doors to 3 other apartments. From the provided intel, one of the apartments was empty, whilst in the other there supposedly was a gay couple. Someone thought this information was important enough to be marked with red warning signs… as if being gay was some sort of illness or something.
He opened the door to the flat. A titanium alloy-plated security door was his first line of defense. The design of it was smart enough, and it was bound to resist things like battering rams and small explosives, though a breaching charge would make short work of it. The lock could be accessed via key or handprint, although the handprint one had proved to be, time and time again, a bit of a nuisance when getting in, so the manual advised against using it. There was also a camera with facial recognition software, allowing the door to open if said along with a certain codeword… an outrageous and useless expense, but it was part of the package, so he couldn’t really complain.
The door lead to a small corridor. On the left, a door to the kitchen. Up front, the living room. Czesch wasn´t an extremely good cook, but he knew how to make a small number of dishes for himself. The kitchen was definitely fully equipped and he would be having no issue making any of the dishes he had learned back in the day… hell, maybe he could even learn a couple of new ones.
The living room itself was designed for more people, that could be seen at a wince. Three sofas forming an opened rectangle with a coffee table in the middle and a TV at the receiving end of the open side. Cupboards and book stands lay to either side of the TV. The eastern side of the room was equipped with skyscraper-like windows, only these ones were designed to also stop any bullet below 308. Magnum. A 50.cal round or a rocket would probably pierce the shit out of them, although they´d need a helicopter or extremely good aim to manage that. In a corner, a piano stood, silent, waiting for someone to play it. Probably Vivi wanting Czesch to practice from time to time, since he would only be able to come back every blue moon.
At each corner of the living room there were 2 doors. One lead to the bedroom, while the other was designed as the training room. The latter was equipped with training material, from running treadmills to press machines, and, as a second part of the room, a small firing range with targets. The weapons that Karen had sent were already there, which made Czesch glad of how quick the service was. The best part of the room was the fact that firing range and training room could be divided at the push of a button by a fake wall. Probably as a way to hide evidence when inviting people over.
The bedroom served the part as working and sleeping area, the former being more important to Czesch than the latter, since he would probably fall asleep at every single part of the house but the bed. There was a desktop computer designed mainly for contractor usage. It had also a built-in civilian OS to hide away certain data. Czesch had brought his laptop and tablet along, but he was glad he had a desktop he could use as well.
Decorations were almost none existent, which was the way Czesch liked things. There was a mountain of books divided amongst the book shelves in both the living room and bedroom, most of them probably being there for show, others hiding some sort of important secret. Czesch would most likely read none of them.
Overall, the place was brand new, the smell of paint still impregnated in some of the furniture. Harville had never been a popular spot for the company, given the criminality within certain sectors and the little pay when compared to other towns. What little private security there was concerned only the commercial district and certain industrial plants on the outskirts, with little to no love for the town itself.
So… a new start. Well, not quite a new one, but a different one nonetheless. Main problem he had now was that he had no clue on what to do now. He was free to do whatever he wanted… work, reading, firing some guns, work-out, running… he could do any of that… but in the end he opted for a quick sleep.
And another nightmare. This time it was the one in the field outside Brno. He had a few recurring ones, each one representing another moment that made him wish he had taken a bullet to the head at the start of all that shitstorm to not have to go through it. He had seen those scenes so many times that he wasn´t even startled anymore. He just simply watched them as if they were movies.
He decided to do some work and fire off his new toys before calling it a night again. The route through Panama had been working fine for the past 3 weeks, but the one in Peru had been hit by bandits. Czesch decided to set an alternative route he had prepared as a primary for the time being, given the information gathered by ground operatives. He had seen satellite imaging of the area, a rainstorm could probably destroy the road for good, but it would do for the time being while things calmed down.
He also updated his info on the Zimbabwean warlord Murakasa. One of his informants had filed a yellow report, which meant that someone close to the warlord was making a move. He modified the report with updated info on possible locations for guerilla troops and sent it to his liaison at the Special Air Service. He still found it odd that they´d give him work designed for the staff at the Intel department, but given that those people were overworked most of the day dealing with very complex and volatile situations, menial things like gathering information and approving decisions based on it seemed like useless filler.
After that, he gave the USP a whirl. The knockback on that thing was brutal, but he had heard that a 1911´s was much, much worse. It would just need some getting used to. The mag release and the slide had been tidied up. Karen´s handiwork… she probably had spent all night modifying it, forgetting to eat dinner and everything. Whenever that girl got something on her head, no one would be able to persuade her. The Mk17 had also been modified, and felt great to fire. Luckily, the walls and door were soundproof, making his neighbor´s sleep better.
Just when he was about to get some sleep… a knock on the door. Alarms inside Czesch´s head started firing, senses getting sharper, Walter P99 on hand. The person behind the door could be anyone, from a salesman to a hired killer. He went by the side of the door, gun at the ready.
“Who is it?” He had to try to act normal. No robber or killer would find a handgun-toting 16 year old “normal”.
“Hi there! I´m Jeff. I wanted to welcome you to our little community! So sorry for calling so late, but I had to take care of my butterfly! He´s really sick, you know… also, I brought cookies!”
Butterfly… the man had just called his partner… butterfly… yeah, he was definitely from the gay couple next door. Czesch left his pistol on the side and opened the door.
“Good evening.”
“Oh, my! Look at you! You could squeeze out lemons with those biceps!”
“Uuuhhh… Thanks?”
“Oh, goodness me, I´m so sorry! I didn´t know the man living next door was so… so… I mean, welcome to our community!”
Czesch accepted the cookies while putting two and two together. That man was… flirting with him… flirting… alarm sirens were just wailing as if the Nazis were blitzing London again.
“So, pretty boy, you have a name or can I keep calling you… “gorgeous”?”
“I…I… I´m… I´m sorry, but I´m…Look, I have nothing against you, but… I´m not into guys, I´m not gay, I´m sorry!”
Awkward silence ensued. Jeff started laughing, almost not being able to stand up, leaving Czesch wondering if he should have kept the gun.
“Did you really-? I was kidding! Me and Hughie-pee are totally in love! Your build is just fabulous, but you are a bit too young for my taste!”
“I… I´m glad that… I mean… I am 16, you know…”
“No.Way! I would give you 18 minimum! Look at yourself! I´m sure women must fall all around you with that sexy body of yours.”
“Ummm… yeah, probably…”
“So, I may sound a little nosy, but you still haven´t given me a name.”
“Oh, yeah, sorry about that! I´m Czesch. Czesch Travaly.”
“A foreign name as well!! It sounds a lot like “Chess”, too.”
“Yeah, people often call me that at the start until they get my name right.”
“Boy, you are a box full of surprises! I´m sure we are going to have a LOT of fun with you around.”
“I could say the same!”
Czesch was stretching his smile as best he could. This was a Karen-type, only elevated to 100. This situation felt like being stuck in a muddy trench in Laos… only Czesch would rather stay on the trench than try to keep up with this guy.
“Say, it is quite a coincidence you moved in at this time!”
“Uuuhhh… How come?”
“Well, you see… there is a family moving in tomorrow as well! Isn´t that exciting?”
“Oh really? Yeah, it is quite the coincidence”
The timing was too perfect. He had to be cautious with the newcomers. Family or not, they could not find out who he was. This assignment was not only for educational purposes, but also to show his capacity at keeping a hidden identity.
“I mean, I heard they are really quite a lovely couple and their daughter is super cute, but I´d rather see it for myself. You can´t really trust rumors more than your eyes and ears, you get my drift?”
“Yeah, definitely.”
He actually did. Working with informants was basically similar to spying on neighbors. It is much faster to do it yourself, but often times you need to rely on others to get you that info. During that, they may change some facts of their report, or leave important details out. That´s when you learn which informants to trust and those you have to double-check with. It was nice to see that this neighborhood would work in a similar fashion.
“Well, I´m afraid I have to go, my lovely darling is probably missing me already. He has quite a high fever, you know? He wanted to meet you himself, but I told him he would be able to tomorrow when we invite you to some tea with the other family!... Unless you have something planned, that is…”
“No! No, it´s OK! I had nothing to do tomorrow, since I start on Monday. I´ll come for sure.”
“That´s right! I forgot that you were high school age! Which one are you going to?”
“Saint Vincent´s… don´t actually know much about it, but I´ll give it my best…”
“Oooohhh, we got ourselves a fighter! Well then, I´ll be sure to knock tomorrow evening! Be a dear and be here around 5, OK?”
“Around 5… got it!”
“It was so nice to meet you! Have sweet dreams, Czeschky!”
“You too! Goodbye!”
He closed the door… and hung by it for half a minute. What had just happened? “Sweet Dreams”? Another person calling him “Czeschky”? Tea at 5? What the actual fuck had just happened in the span of 2 minutes?
Part of him was telling him that shooting that man in the face would have made things much easier… then again, getting rid of the body and- No, that was not the point. He had made an appointment… with his colliding neighbors. It was a perfect chance to meet them and make a proper report on them. It was vital to know those close to him, for they could prove either helpful or a complete nuisance.
With this, he decided to get some more 30 minute sleeps… he would need a lot of them for that appointment, he was aware of that.
And so the first night of this new chapter went by… the same way all the others had.