The Prodigy

Trigger Warnings: Scenes may be graphic for some readers with depictions of blood, torture, and death
**Spoilers Ahead**

● ● ● 1 ● ● ●

His left foot planted down as he gracefully twisted. With a spring in his step, his body lifted high into the air and his right foot brought his body into a spinning motion. His foot met the target, shattering the wood into pieces, and he landed neatly on the floor.
            “Jeez, Tomas, save some awesome for the rest of us,” Mitchell said.
            Tomas grinned from ear to ear and checked his handiwork.
            “That was nearly perfect,” Master Hershel barked from behind them. He approached and pointed at the angle at which Tomas landed. “You left yourself open to an offensive attack.” The man jabbed Tomas’ back at the hip. “This is a vital area. A second attacker could take you out. You let your body get out of control at the landing.”
            “You’re right, sir. I’ll do it again.”
Tomas cleared away the splinters, set up another board, and got into position for a flying, scissor kick.
            “Agent Rognas and Exacil, make note,” their instructor said. “In any situation, whether it’s training or on assignment, keep in mind about your body position. Never allow a target to find an opening. That could mean life or death for you.”
            Tomas repeated the steps, calculating the final twist and landing. He felt his body overextend. In midair, he adjusted his abdomen slightly and the uncontrolled feeling disappeared. His feet landed, his hands went up, and he was prepared for another assault.
            “Superb! Remember, as Rescue Agents, you are entering a situation without knowing the full extent of an assignment. You don’t get repeats like in training. Don’t allow your mind to wander.” Master Hershel bowed and excused them for the day. “Oh, Agent Exacil, a word?”
            Mitchell bowed and excused himself from the training arena.
            “You’ve done exceptional work in the last few months, Exacil. The Rescue Team hasn’t had a Supervisory Agent with such a high success rate in years.”
            “Thank you, sir,” Tomas accepted the praise.
            Master Hershel patted Tomas’ shoulder. “I’ve been informed about a classified assignment that I think you’d be perfect for.”
            “What is the assignment?”
            “They’ve called it the ‘Egyptian Heir’. Only a handful of people will be aware of this assignment.” He headed to a duffel bag and extracted a sealed envelope.
            Tomas gripped the envelope, but halted in opening it. His breath caught in his throat. “Sir, this is a Red Tape Classified Assignment.”
            “Yes, it is. It is also a primary assignment. You would drop everything at any given moment.” He pointed at the envelope. “Understand that as soon as you open that envelope, you’ve accepted the position. Do not open it lightly. Take a few days and spend some time truly understanding what is being asked of you. This is a rare opportunity, however, the man the Board is gaining intel on, Victor Folgin, is dangerous. He is hunting for a group called the Sacred Chosen.”
            Tomas frowned at Master Hershel’s strained voice. He asked, “Sir, if I accept, who is my Supervisory Agent?”
            “Mr. Edwards.”
            “That’s highly uncommon,” Tomas stated. “A Branch Head supervising an assignment?”
            “Again, this is not a traditional assignment. You’re in or out, but once in, there’s no turning back.”
            “Sir,” Tomas admired his master, “as my mentor, and knowing what you do know about this,” he waved the envelope around, “would you recommend me doing this?”
            “Agent Exacil, you are the only agent I would recommend doing this. Any other would fail, and end up probably dead. I recommended you for this to Mr. Edwards and he fully agreed.” He broke his serious expression for a second and fondly looked towards Tomas. “However, this decision is yours. It will be long term and carry high risk for everyone involved.”
            Tomas straightened his shoulders and hid his reservations. “I will consider this, sir.”
            Excusing Tomas, Master Hershel headed towards the exit and disappeared from sight. Tomas slowly gathered his items, staring at the ominous envelope.
            I’ve worked so hard to get an assignment like this, but why do I get this sense of dread?
            “Hey! Tomas!”
            Tomas tucked the envelope into his bag and spun around to find his little brother waving enthusiastically.
            “Hey, Zack, how’d your first assignment go?” Tomas snapped his fingers and recalled the first years’ entrance assignment. “Cat stuck in a tree?” he joked.
            “Oh, ha-ha!” Zack sarcastically rolled his eyes. “I helped on a primary assignment with a thief who stole some priceless painting. It was deemed an FUA task because of the painting belonging to an old FUA Branch Head. Did you know that during World War Two, there were numerous artifacts and art pieces stolen by soldiers? When an artifact is found, it’s returned to the country of origin? The original owner was a family in Poland. It turns out the FUA Branch Head had bought it at auction, and then this thief stole it from him. Then we learned that it belonged to another family, so we caught the thief and the FUA Head lost rights to it. It’s heading back to its rightful home now.”
            Tomas nudged Zack’s shoulder with his knuckles.
            “Just wait for more assignments like that. You’ll get addicted to the research.”
            Zack said, “I can’t wait! I’m heading home for supper. If you’re still training, I’ll give an excuse as to why you’re late.”
            Tomas responded, “Nah, I’m done. I was just packing my things and going to shower off. Hershel worked us hard today.”
            “Jeez, he sounds awful. I guess in a few months, I’ll be testing again and will be training with him.”
            “He’s rough, but he’s a great teacher. He wants his students to survive and succeed.” Tomas hefted his bag up. “Wait for me and I’ll give you a ride.”
            “Sure. I’ll be on the main floor.”
Tomas entered the locker room. It was quiet inside. He undressed and fell into deep thought as the shower’s water pelted him. The envelope teased him from the bench. His curiosity was killing him but he needed to slow down, think and do thorough research. He couldn’t enter an assignment thinking he’d succeed without considering the risks.
            I should investigate Victor Folgin. He was bothered by this assignment. Why ask the Saskatoon FUA? There must be better equipped agencies than us. A Red Tape Assignment has never hit our agency.
            Tomas scrubbed at his head, washing away the shampoo and sweat from his hair.
            Hershel is rarely perturbed. He considered addressing Mr. Edwards on the topic. He’s probably unable to explain more than Hershel did.
            He stepped from the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist.
            “Yo! Tomas, hello?” Mitchell clapped his hands in front of Tomas’ face. “Why are you so out of it?”
            Tomas shook his head and tossed on his shirt. “Shit, sorry. I thought I was alone in here.”
            “What did Hershel want?”
            Tomas shrugged. “Just wanted to discuss a new assignment.”
            “That’s never good if Hershel is discussing assignments.” Mitchell understood the risk as Tomas did. “Did you accept it?”
            “Not yet. I have to look into some things beforehand.”
            Mitchell slung his duffel bag over his shoulder. He hesitated to leave the locker room.
            “Just remember, you’re an amazing agent, but taking on something that could put you in danger may not be the right choice. Your dad passed only nine months ago. Your mom and brother are still mourning. Don’t throw yourself into your work because that’s how you deal with your emotions. I don’t think your mom will handle the loss of another family member.”
            Tomas froze while pulling up his jeans. Am I ready to risk everything for this?
            Mitchell exited with a slight wave. Tomas finished dressing and edgily strolled through the FUA. This assignment didn’t add up. Hershell was being coy. What is going on?
Zack spoke to the burly Greg near the exit doors. Tomas faked a smile that was well engrained from the last few months, and approached the first-year agent who he proudly called family.
“Hey, Greg, keeping out of trouble?” Tomas asked.
Greg rubbed his shiny bald head and wagged a finger at the troublesome Rescue Agent.
“Trouble seems to find me wherever I go,” Greg laughed.
Tomas nudged Zack’s shoulder and ushered him out the doors. Greg limped towards the security bench and sat, rubbing his sore leg.
Absently, Tomas mumbled, “He’s looking more optimistic.”
Zack followed Tomas down the back alleyway to the well-maintained red pickup truck.
“Whatever happened to Greg? Wasn’t he next in line to take over as Branch Head?”
Tomas slipped into the driver’s side and clucked his tongue to scold Zack. “Don’t ask questions about injured agents. Not only is it rude, but it can also be confidential or a career ruining topic.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mea-”
“But,” Tomas added, “Greg is fairly open about it. He wants agents to learn from his mistakes. Yes, Greg, at one point was in the standing to replace Mr. Edwards. He was a Supervisory Agent in charge of the Undercover Agents. He received a distress call from an agent. Unfortunately, he did not wait for all the intel, and rushed in, thinking only three hostiles were in the location, when there were actually four.”
Tomas signaled and shot onto the street, cruising along the river in a typical drive of diversion before heading home.
“Greg ended up losing two agents and being shot himself in the femoral artery. His team was able to secure the hostiles. Luckily, Greg survived, but not without permanent damage to his leg. He was forced to step down as a Supervisory Agent and was given a choice of retirement or a vacant FUA Branch Security position. Greg will be the first to tell you, always have your intel and ensure it is accurate before action.”
I will not react recklessly about this assignment. I need more information.
Zack sheepishly gaped at the tragic end to a promising career. “Oh man, that’s brutal.”
“It only takes one misstep to tumble all the blocks. Zack, you’re smart. Don’t fog your mind with doubt, worry or emotional attachments. During an assignment that could mean death.”
“Tomas,” Zack wondered aloud, “aren’t you, as a Rescue Team Agent, all about entering a situation without intel?”
“Yes, but we are prepared for every situation and heavily trained. If that’s your goal in the FUA, ensure you focus on training your body, as well as sharpening your mind. You can’t survive with just brute force.” Tomas ended the mindless dissuade and drove straight home. “Greg’s leg will most likely heal, but it will take time. He won’t ever return to the field because he would hold other agents back during assignments. He’s found a passion for ensuring the Branch’s security and safety.”
Parking, Tomas removed his keys from the ignition and hopped down from the truck. He smelt burnt food before he reached the porch.
“Uh-oh, mom tried to cook.”
Zack’s hand hesitated on the doorknob. His chin lowered and he diverted his eyes. “I really do miss dad’s cooking.”
Tomas squeezed Zack’s shoulder. “Me too.”
A great deal had been stripped from them the day their dad never came home.
    “She’s at least out of bed and feeling like herself once more. We’ll end up ordering pizza later tonight," Tomas said.
They entered the smoky house. They heard panicked grunts as their mom scurried about the kitchen desperately trying to fan the oven’s smoke out of an open window. Large tears rolled down her blue eyes. Her blonde hair was haphazardly falling out of her high bun.
“Oh, boys! I wasn’t expecting you yet,” she croaked, wiping her tears from her cheeks. “I tried to cook to celebrate my latest big win, but I forgot a pan underneath the roast, it overflowed, and caught fire.”
Tomas darted to the pantry to snatch the baking soda. It sprinkled inside the oven where a small grease fire burned.
“Baking soda, mom,” Zack gently educated her while patting her back, “always baking soda with grease fires.” He widened the oven completely and pulled out the roast. “Other than this one charred side, this may be salvageable.”
Tomas checked the stove where potatoes boiled to the brink of overflowing, and well seasoned spinach simmered. Turning off everything, he hugged his mom tight after checking nothing else could cause issues.
“Overall, this looks good!” Tomas began the process of mashing the potatoes and adding garlic and horseradish in. “Congrats on the big win, mom! That’s the case revolving a drunk driver and a little girl?”
“Yes. Her family can rest easy that he won’t be on the streets for a long time.” Their mom sank onto a kitchen chair in defeat. “Boys, we don’t need to eat this. We can just go out to eat.”
“Nah, mom,” Zack argued, “we’ll be able to fix this.”
Tomas and Zack set to work to finish the meal. They laughed and talked about their week.
As he cut the roast, Tomas thought, We haven’t had a homecooked meal in months. Too often was he preoccupied by an assignment, or his mom was off in her study working on a case, or Zack was dealing with life as a pre-teen and the FUA. A portion of their family unit died with their dad, and they all seemed to move away from one another. The meal, though sections were crispy, was gobbled up with appreciation of a return to normality.
The dishes clanged together as they were cleaned by all three. Tomas hugged his mom once more before he quietly shut his door and glanced over at the duffel bag where the Red Tape Assignment awaited him.
Pulling it out, he tapped his finger against it. Victor Folgin. That’s where I need to begin.
The night darkened and clicking keys of the keyboard was all he heard. The more he searched, the fewer answers Tomas received. Victor Folgin did not come up on a general search, so he scrolled through police reports. A vague mention of Victor Folgin in New York City led Tomas down a rabbit hole of more questions.
He’s never been charged or arrested for any crimes. He’s a ghost… Hershel mentioned the Sacred Chosen.
Once more, his fingers typed, searching for the keywords ‘Sacred’ and ‘Chosen’. He found only a group claiming their leader was the messiah reincarnated. It didn’t fit what he searched for. Confused, he loaded the secure FUA program. He disliked using it at home, but answers were still needed before making a final decision. He inserted his badge number, scanned his watch with the computer’s webcam, and then pressed his right index finger onto the watch’s face for his fingerprint. He navigated through the FUA database. Anything he found during his search would be saved onto his watch for future reference.
He typed in Sacred Chosen
Error
He typed in Egyptian Sacred Chosen.
Error
He typed Egyptian Heir assignment.
Red Tape Classified
He typed in Sacred.
Error
He typed in Chosen.
Error
Why isn’t there any information? Who the hell are the Sacred Chosen? Tomas rotated his neck. It cracked several times. Hershel mentioned that Victor Folgin is targeting the Sacred Chosen. Why aren’t they a blip in the system? He knocked on his wooden desk. Again, he typed.
Victor Folgin.
Error
Victor Folgin doesn’t even exist in our system. What is happening? Our general system isn’t going to be enough. Tomas lifted the sealed file. The only way to fully learn about this assignment is to read you. He shook. I can do this assignment. I won’t back down.
His finger slipped into the sealed flap of the file and ripped the length of it open. The Egyptian Heir assignment slipped out, exposing a menacing truth the FUA had buried several years ago.

● ● ● 11 ● ● ●

Tomas was rooted to his chair as he read the classified file.

Red Tape Classified

Egyptian Heir Assignment Correspondence Transcript
Supervisory Agent: Eugene Edwards, Saskatoon Branch Head

---------------------------------------------------

September 25th, 1991
FUA Board received intel from the Sacred Chosen, who claim to be the protectors of Obeko’s diamonds. Request for urgent action to protect Bryce Eclaire’s [Alias: The Enlightened One] family filed.
Request Denied [insufficient evidence for immediate response]

---------------------------------------------------

April 6th, 2005
The Sacred Chosen send news of The Enlightened One’s passing.

---------------------------------------------------

November 14th, 2010
Archeologists, Jason Harris and Eric Klein, uncover Obeko’s lost tomb.
Upon entry, their colleague, Francis O'Hara, began to seize and when he awoke, Mr. O'Hara experienced paranoia and chest pains. He succumbed to a heart attack three hours following his exit of the tomb.
Archeological Find Status: Hiatus
Until further notice, Undercover Agents assigned to monitor Harris and Klein’s activities.
The Scared Chosen request a meet in regard to this find.
Request Approved

---------------------------------------------------

November 23rd, 2010
Egyptian Heir Assignment
Status: Red Tape Classified
Supervisory Agent: Eugene Edwards, Saskatoon Branch Head
The Sacred Chosen disclosed the heir is part of this generation. No disclosure to the identity of the heir. Eugene Edwards is appointed as Supervisory Branch Head.

---------------------------------------------------

February 12th, 2011
Notice of Assembly
Jason Harris and Eric Klein have met with a new associate [Alias: Victor Folgin] in a neutral location.
Folgin has an association with Savatore Lombardi [known for human trafficking, hired guns, drug trafficking, and counterfeit money], and is deemed armed and dangerous to civilians and agents.
Harris and Klein have contacted a Sacred Chosen member [intel unclear]

---------------------------------------------------

February 19th, 2011
Secondary Assignment Alert
Sacred Chosen member, Cynthia Greene, missing since February 13th, 2011 from Cairo, Egypt.
Status: Deceased [Alert Lifted]
FUA Egyptian Branch Head, Tiy Ebni, confirms identity of Jane Doe located near Obeko’s tomb. Biopsy confirms signs of prolonged torture and cause of death was a heart attack. Mortician notes a scar across Greene’s chest from a long, sharp-edged blade.

---------------------------------------------------

February 20th, 2011
Sacred Chosen request armed guards at Obeko’s tomb.
Request Denied [insufficient evidence for immediate response]

---------------------------------------------------

March 1st, 2011
Secondary Assignment Alert
            Sacred Chosen member, Phineas Ahmadi, reported missing February 28th, 2011 from Zagazig.
            Status: Deceased [Alert Lifted]
            Body found by local law enforcement. Biopsy shows signs of torture. Body returned to family for funeral arrangements.

---------------------------------------------------

June 6th, 2011
Secondary Assignment Alert
Sacred Chosen members, Ramona and Donald Resches, reported missing June 5th, 2011 from London, England.
Status: Missing
Supervisory Branch Head requests agent intervention.
Request Approved

---------------------------------------------------

End of Transcript

Tomas finished the report. The Resches’ are still missing. It’s been two days. Their chances are slim. He jumped up and gathered his duffle bag. His hands stayed as he gathered his equipment and clothes to travel. Obeko’s diamonds? What does that mean? He pulled out the assignment again and reread it. Known associates. Archeologists? Why would a man who deals in organized crime need archeologists?
            Typing into his computer once more, he did a general search: Obeko and diamonds. Few historical papers popped up. He read through a fantastical story of magical diamonds and a just pharaoh who was betrayed by his wife.

Whoever enters this tomb, and is not heir to the diamonds’ powers, will surely die. When the heir is revealed, they will be able to control the diamonds as they wish…

Tomas slumped back into the chair. The file was caressed numbly. He’s looking for a way to get the diamonds. Bryce Éclair’s family? Is one of them the heir?
He searched for the Éclair family.
Error
This family doesn’t exist, or are they buried to hide their identities? He ruffled his hair. There’s too many puzzle pieces. Our first step needs to be the Resches.

● ● ●

Knock, knock.
Tomas kept his composure but inside, his mind was unravelling.
“Come in,” Mr. Edwards welcomed.
Tomas barged in without hesitation, the Red Tape Assignment landed on Mr. Edwards’ cluttered desk. Mr. Edwards cleared his throat, smoothed out his black hair, and folded his hands together.
“Exacil, welcome to the Egyptian Heir assignment.”

● ● ● 111● ● ●

“Sir, how is any of this possible?” Tomas pointed at the Red Tape assignment. “Magical diamonds?”
“This is the side of the FUA most agents will never see, Exacil,” Mr. Edwards explained. “This assignment is part of the elites. We cannot fail.”
Tomas inhaled, erased his mind of his brewing questions, and pulled out the last correspondence from the file.
“I want to get moving on the secondary assignment immediately. Where was the Resches’ last known sighting?”
“A pub in Nottingham, United Kingdom. They were vacationing there, celebrating their thirtieth anniversary.”
“Did they have any contact with anyone?”
Mr. Edwards searched through his watch and with a push of a button, Tomas heard a ding on his own watch. He scrolled through to retrieve the files. A photo of two men speaking with an elderly couple appeared across the watch’s face.
“That's Harris and Klein. They approached the Resches, spoke to them for a short time, and then they all left together.”
“Where did they go from there?”
“A witness said they saw them get into a black SUV. That’s the last time we had a sighting of them.” Bluntly, Mr. Edwards said, “They have been missing for two days. We are most likely searching for bodies at this point. The Egyptian Branch Head, Tiy Ebni, has reported no suspicious behaviour near the tomb, so they may not be taking the Resches to Egypt.”
Tomas recalled his intel about Harris and Klein. “These men aren’t trained. They would’ve needed to transport them somewhere nearby. Too long of a drive would’ve given the Resches time to fight back. Are there any empty warehouses nearby?”
Mr. Edwards shuffled around on his desk, and pulled out a map. “No empty warehouses, but there are some foreclosed houses in this area.”
Tomas thought, An area with foreclosed houses wouldn’t be high traffic areas. That may be a good place to start.
“Sir, this seems a bit too convenient,” Tomas stated.
“I agree.”
“Were they supposed to meet someone?”
“We aren’t sure. The Sacred Chosen are shutting down communication as they are concerned for their members.”
“Very well. Sir, I would like a formal request to investigate in the United Kingdom.”
Mr. Edwards handed Tomas correspondence.

---------------------------------------------------

June 7th, 2011
Formal Request to Investigate
Regarding the missing persons Romana and Donald Resches, last seen in Nottingham, United Kingdom.
Supervisory Agent Eugene Edwards, Saskatoon Branch Head
Request Approved

---------------------------------------------------

“This came two hours ago. The plane will be ready in twenty minutes.”
Tomas handed back the correspondence and excused himself to complete arrangements for his travel.

● ● ●

Tomas stepped from the humming private plane. He searched his surroundings, and then pinpointed the agents inside a small moving van. Hefting his duffel bag further up his shoulder, he waved and casually walked over to them. They acknowledged him with a nod.
The door slid open in the back and Tomas stepped in.
“Gooday, Agent Exacil,” the driver said. “I’m Agent Druard. This is Agent Taylor. We have been briefed that this assignment is Red Tape, so we cannot ask details on it, however, we are here to escort you and assist when we can.”
“Thank you for the assistance.” Tomas pulled up a holographic map that had a pin on it. “We need to look into this area.”
The two agents examined the map.
“That’s Radford,” Taylor recalled.
“Perfect. I’m looking for foreclosures in that area.”
They nodded and Druard pulled forward and drove through the narrow streets of Nottingham as Tomas maintained his focus. He double checked his .22 several times. As they pulled into the Radford neighbourhood of Nottingham, Tomas noted the quiet sidewalks and sparse vehicle traffic.
Taylor wondered, “What should we be looking at?”
“An area with a couple foreclosures nearby so that fewer people will notice anything.”
They thought for a moment.
“Ah, I know a place,” Druard announced and U-turned. “There was a huge drug raid a few months ago. The houses have remained empty and boarded up until the trials are concluded.”
“That’s a good place to start.”
Onto a quiet street where the white van looked conspicuous and the connected, brick houses were lined up in a row, Tomas watched for anything out of the ordinary. And there it was. The black SUV that was parked on the street in front of an abandoned house with boarded up windows.
Tomas replaced his gun to his holster and pointed to the car. “Go to the next block and then pull over. I need a closer look at that house there.”
Druard did so. Tomas stepped out and leaned against the van, pretending to smoke as he watched.
“You two stay here. I need to confirm my suspicions before we go in. So far, I know about two men, but there may be a third. I will call when I have eyes on anyone. Be ready to move in.”
Druard and Taylor shuffled to prepare their chosen weapons and Tomas strolled down the street, puffing at his cigarette and using his peripherals to watch the house. Nothing moved and no sounds were heard. He crossed the road. As he stepped past the black tinted SUV, he didn’t sense anyone inside. Flicking his cigarette to the ground, he bent and pretended to tie his shoe as he pressed a dime sized tracking device onto the car’s wheel well. He turned it on with his watch and then stretched up. He moved along, heading to the basement suite of the neighbouring house. Once there were no windows, Tomas hunched down and crept along the brick walling. He paused and listened. No sounds were heard in the front of the house. He tried to peer inside through slits of the boards. The obstructed view showed him very little.
He crept along. Between the narrow gap of the houses, he squeezed through. The brick caught his clothes and Tomas winced with every scrape and scratch. He made it to the backyard where dry, overgrown grass crunched beneath his feet.
He looked through the windows on the main level, nothing but left behind furniture gathered dust. He frowned as he noticed dust had been disturbed in the living room, leading to the stairs.
He stepped back and looked around the corner to find another window. Near the backdoor, a window well with broken glass had a missing section of wood on it. Tomas crept to it and snuck a glance but then shifted backwards when his watch vibrated and words scrolled across it.
A man left the house and went into the SUV. He returned after grabbing an item.
Tomas typed back, Description?
Large. Caucasian. Bald.
Bald? thought Tomas. Could that be Folgin?
Whispers were heard.
“Did you get anything from him?” a serious man spoke.
“No,” another said in a deep gravelly voice.
A third man spoke, “Nothing from the old lady, either.”
“Dammit!” the growling man hollered and threw something. “I’ll call Victor and let him know.”
If none of them are Victor, there’s a fourth man. Tomas clicked on his watch, selected a camera on his tools and the holographic image of the camera glowed before materialising for him to grab it. Tomas double checked that the flash was off and snuck several photos of the three men in the room. Klein and Harris were confirmed but the gorilla sized man was unidentified. Tomas sent the picture to his files and then continued his search.
In a dirty little bedroom, he peeked through the boards where a pool of red stained the floor and the body of an old man lied motionless. Sighing, Tomas snapped the picture of the scene.
The gorilla man with a gruff voice spoke on the phone as he strolled into the bedroom. “Yeah, I accidently killed him. Eric said that woman is just barely alive. Should I-” He listened to a response and clucked his tongue in annoyance. “Understood, sir. I’ll see if I can get anything from her and then be rid of her. Eric said she tried to bite off her tongue. He had to gag her.” The person on the other line spoke. “Where should I dump the bodies?” He listened, nodded and then hung up. His phone slipped away. “Hey!” he barked, “Victor wants us to clean up. He’ll be here soon once he finishes his task. I’ll deal with the lady.”
Harris and Klein gulped.
“Sure, Jonathon,” Klein said.
Jonathon moved to the front of the house. Tomas hopped up and whispered quickly into his watch, “Druard, Taylor, meet me in the back. Keep an eye on all traffic. There’s a fourth man.”
Druard and Taylor strolled along the back of the building, pretending to have a conversation. He motioned for them to come to him and squatted down.
“Donald Resches is gone. That bald man, known as Jonathon, is going to hurt Romana. We need to get in there and stop them. They are armed and dangerous. Victor, the one calling the shots, is on his way. We need to be prepared for an ambush. We’ll go in together from the back. Two are downstairs, and the man Jonathon is closer to the front of the house.”
Taylor and Druard cocked their guns and agreed. Tomas double checked that Harris and Klein were in the victim’s room before he crouched to the door. It was locked. Druard handed him a lockpick set and Tomas set to work unlocking it. With a resounding click, the door opened with a creak and they fanned out, checking all the nooks and crannies. A woman’s muffled cries were overheard from downstairs. Tomas led the way to the stairs.
They groaned beneath each step. As they reached the basement, the cries became soft whimpers as several phones chimed. Tomas hesitated. Druard and Taylor stepped closer to a closed door.
A huge crash thundered across the house. Harris and Klein burst through the back bedroom, covered in bloody aprons. They darted to the left and disappeared down a hall. Druard and Taylor took off running to follow them. Tomas took over at the closed door.
Kicking it open, shattered glass and splintered wood covered the floor. Jonathon had broken through the window, squeezed through it and disappeared onto the street. Romana was pale as a ghost, gasping and bleeding, a knife stabbing into her side. Tomas took hold of the knife to steady it as Romana’s panicked hands tried to remove it.
“Keep it there. You’ll bleed out. I’ll call an ambulance,” Tomas explained. “I’m Tomas, Romana. Please, you’re safe.”
“Call-” she trembled, her words gurgled beneath the bubbling blood. “Call Henley Walsh.”
“Henry?”
“Hen-ley…” she coughed. “Henley has answers….”
With a shuddering gasp, her struggling hands dropped to the floor and her wide eyes lost their fire.

---------------------------------------------------

June 8th, 2011
Secondary Assignment Alert
Sacred Chosen members, Ramona and Donald Resches, reported missing June 5th, 2011 from London, England.
Status: Deceased [Alert Lifted]
Supervisory Branch Head requests agent intervention.
Request Approved

---------------------------------------------------