Beginnings

[Blackbat]

Beginnings

Vincent stared at the young man as he squirmed on the floor. It was moments like this that gave him joy. Watching someone’s life actually fade away was the biggest rush that could be achieved. Nothing else compared to it. Even sex was a distant second. If Vincent had believed in God, he could almost imagine seeing a huge hand come from the sky and violently rip the soul from their bodies.

After watching the young ship worker issue his final twitching convulsions on the ground, Vincent slowly crouched down and hovered over the lifeless body. He slowly reached out and put a steady hand on the dead man’s chest.

“Thank you.” He murmured in a barely audible whisper.

Vincent was always grateful for the gifts people bestowed on him. Granted they didn’t give them willingly, but that was no reason not to appreciate them. Being with someone in his or her very last moment of life was the most intimate you could ever possibly hope to get with another human being. You could actually feel their life slipping away, it was for lack of a better word, magical.

He didn’t believe in all that soul absorbing crap, or that you could gain strength and wisdom by killing someone. But he did believe that witnessing and taking part in something as powerful as this, that you could gain extreme knowledge of how the world works. After watching someone’s life being extinguished, you begin to see things with different eyes. The world becomes much more clear to those that choose to partake in it’s gift.

After looking into the young man’s lifeless eyes a few more moments, Vincent slowly stood and walked out of the cargo hold. The young man that now lay on the dirty floor had supplied him with some cash and a few items that Vincent thought might come in handy. The dead deckhand had been nice to Vincent during the long overseas voyage, bringing him food and supplying him with information on the voyage and where they were headed. Vincent had no dislike of the man, in fact it was completely the opposite. Which is why Vincent choose him to share the moment with.

The massive freighter would be docking soon, and he wanted to be off the ship before the dockworkers began unloading the cargo hold. The sheep of the world did not share his quest for knowledge, they didn’t understand the beauty of it, nor did they care to. Vincent held a disdain for the majority of human beings. They did what they were told, when they were told to do it and refused to accept that there was more to the world than what was allowed them.

His periodic adventures were always kept discreet, so as not to draw immediate attention. Vincent strode purposely on the massive top deck, towards the makeshift ramp that would lead him off the boat and to solid land. He had boarded this cargo freighter almost 2 months ago. He bought his way onboard and mostly kept to himself and did only what was required of him during the long and tedious journey from the United States to China.

He didn’t know why he was coming here, he only knew that this was where he needed to be. He had limited money, the clothes on his back and no idea in what direction to go from here on. Nevertheless, he cracked a smile as he strode down the top deck ramp towards the docks. For the first time in a long time, he felt content as he disembarked the massive freighter. He effortlessly passed through customs, and made his way through the busy streets of Shanghai.

[Blackbat]

Vincent paid for his drink and walked out of the tavern into the crisp night air. He had experienced a busy day. Mostly walking up and down the docks, while venturing a bit into the city later that day and into the night. During his exploratory walking he had found what looked like a good place to bunk down for the night. It was little more than a dirty alleyway, but it was sheltered from the elements and looked to be deserted.

He made his way through twisting streets, heading towards his newly acquired sleeping spot when a loud shout from behind caught his attention.

He turned to see three men trailing him, all of them with aggressive body language. One of them spoke again in Chinese. While Vincent couldn’t decipher the language, he clearly understood the tone in which it was spoken. He glanced downwards to the bag he held in his hand, it contained all his meager belongings and what little money he had.

Again, what looked to be the leader spoke in a sharp and harsh tone, this time being very clear about his intentions by pointing to the bag Vincent held. The soft scrape of leather on cement alerted Vincent to more visitors behind him. He casually tossed the bag in front him, at his would be attackers feet. Smiles appeared on the faces of all six of the men that surrounded him. No doubt pleased to have found such a willing victim.

The leader stepped forward, away from the others. Clearly demonstrating that he was charge and that he was dictating how this encounter would end. He kicked the bag to his left, toward one of the others, then took another step closer. Vincent looked down, avoiding eye contact, signifying submission.

The man tilted his head back and laughed as he continued to assert his dominance, they probably should have been more alert.

With a explosive movement that took everyone by surprise, Vincent struck out and violently ripped out the man’s throat. He smirked as the bigger man choked and sputtered before falling backwards to the ground while weakly clutching his destroyed throat. Vincent held the bloody vocal cords in his hand a moment longer before tossing it to the nearest man. The attacker reacted when his friends bloody body part hit him in the chest, by yelping and running, his fellow attackers soon followed suit shouting in Chinese the whole time.

Vincent crouched down to watch the fallen man breathe his last breath before he wiped the blood and gore off his hand with the dead man’s shirt. A quick nod to acknowledge the moment and Vincent picked up his bag and was back up and walking.

“Very impressive.” Came a smooth voice, seemingly out of nowhere.

Vincent stopped and slowly glanced around. He saw nothing, each alleyway was in total darkness and the stone streets and buildings echoed all noises. He was in a very vulnerable position.

A man in a black suit, white shirt and red tie stepped from the shadows on his left.

“I can usually tell when someone knows how to handle themselves. Just by the way they walk.” The man continued on.

He lit up a cigarette and took a short puff of it

“You walk, very well.” He finished as he exhaled a thin stream of smoke from his lips.

Vincent kept his face like stone, showing no emotion, giving away no thoughts.

“What do you want?” Vincent asked calmly.

The man took a long drag on his cigarette before responding.

“You have a talent. I have work.” He made a perfect circle in the air with his exhaled smoke, before turning around and walking back into the darkness of the alley.

Vincent stood and stared after him for a moment before a small smirk appeared on his face. He had a job.

[Blackbat]

Over the next six months, Vincent completed various jobs and assignments for his new employer.

Niko Syma was a middleman. He didn’t take the orders and he didn’t carry them out. He just made sure they got done. Assassinations, theft, espionage, shipment protection, demolition. He had his hands in about half a dozen pots, and he made a tidy sum for his work. He would get his contracts usually from one of the local Chinese triads, gun runners or drug traffickers. He would then sub-contract that job out to one of the various associates that he kept on call. He kept his hands clean and was the funnel for all the money.

One of his associates, had just been shot and arrested, he needed more muscle. He started Vincent out slow for the first month. Simple escort jobs, the goal was to get package one, from point A to point B in one piece and in good order. The package was rarely a person, it was usually money, drugs, guns, or a combination of the three. If something happened en-route, it was Vincent’s job to defuse the situation. Whether that meant, eliminating the threat itself or demolishing an entire square block with automatic gunfire as well as the threat. Whatever it took, the package was the number one concern.

After a few dozen deaths, it was known on the streets that any package Vincent oversaw in transit, was going to get to where it was headed. One way or another. Niko saw that as a sign to upgrade Vincent to the real high paying contracts. Mostly assassinations, the various Chinese triads never ran out of people that they would have preferred not be breathing. These were Niko’s bread and butter contracts. They kept commerce moving, and they kept everyone that worked for him fed.

Vincent’s first “wet work” job was no walk in the park. The local police chief was in the pocket of just about every triad for twenty miles. He looked the other way on just about everything that was done concerning the local mafia. He rerouted police presence when needed and made it known who could and could not be hassled. From parking tickets to actual arrests, everyone that paid him was protected. That was up until his daughter was caught in a downtown gang war that she paid for with her life.

Money didn’t appeal to him to anymore, he started a province wide crackdown on all the triads. He had intimate knowledge of their locations, infrastructure and leaders. They were being hit hard, arrests, stings and lethal force were being used on a daily basis. Needless to say, this didn’t help business, most gang leaders had fled the area or were in hiding. Profit was almost nonexistent and buyers had left for other more hospitable areas. Bottom-line was that the police chief had to be terminated.

Niko got the contract.

There was a reason the police chief had survived in this town as long as he had. He knew how survive and he was careful. The entire police force was his own personal government sponsored and funded military unit. His office building and his home was guarded better than Fort Knox during a red level terrorism alert. He traveled to and from home in a ten-vehicle entourage, he was never in the same vehicle twice. He had anywhere from fifteen to twenty off duty police officers stationed at his home on any given night, they were all given security clearance updates daily and were switched in rotation to be unpredictable. Each and every night, his personal bodyguard would inspect all the officers before their shift and before they left to ensure security.

This would be Vincent’s biggest payday yet, once he pulled it off. There was never any question if he could do it, he never allowed that thought to enter his mind. He was going to do it. In fact, it was already done, it just hadn’t been put into physical form. In his mind, the money was already his, releasing these pathetic individuals from this plane of existence was just a formality.

He managed to sneak onto the property undetected, which was a feat in itself. He had one contract, but he didn’t see the harm in dispatching a few of the overpaid guards. He preferred to do it with his hands, but in this case silence and quickness were of utmost importance. Instead he used a short dagger, inserted into the back of the neck, right below the base of the skull. Death was virtually instant, and the severing of the spinal nerves paralyzed the victim instantaneously in the off chance that a bone spur or tendon happened to deflect the killing blow enough to spare their life.

Before he knew it, he had almost made a complete circuit of the sprawling house and nine guards lay dead. He scaled the east wall of the house, making his way to the third floor window. From studying the blueprints, he knew that this window overlooked the east hallway, and was only visible from the top floor. Intel suggested that the target didn’t go upstairs to bed until approximately eleven o’clock. It was only nine forty nine. Vincent was ahead of schedule as he silently picked the reinforced lock on the double hung window and quickly slipped inside. A very feint and almost inaudible thump was the only recognition of his arrival as he dropped down to the floor.

The murmurings of distant voices wafted up the stairway and into Vincent’s ears as he silently made his way down the grand staircase. Once at the bottom, he quickly dove into a nearby closet as someone made their way down the hall in his direction and finally walked past him and his hidden spot. It would be best to deal with all the stragglers first, Vincent silently crept out and followed the man that had just walked by. The guard led him to the garage entrance. By saying it’s a garage, is understating it. It actually resembled more of a showroom than a simple, dirty garage. Beautiful and fanatically maintained automobiles were perched as if they were gems on display, but what wasn’t to be seen was the guard that he had followed.

Vincent slowly backed into a shadowed corner, hoping to stay hidden while spotting his prey. A strong vice like grip latched onto his wrist and his shoulder, a second later he was flying through the air and then colliding into the hood of a cherry red, mint condition Ferrari Testarossa. Vincent rolled his body with the momentum, and gracefully landed on his feet. His eyes analyzing his attacker, looking for obvious weaknesses and openings. It was a big man, well over six feet tall, broad shouldered and looked to be over two hundred pounds of muscle. His forearms bulged and rippled with pencil size veins, he had a grim frown upon his face as he slowly stalked forward towards Vincent.

He must have known of Vincent’s arrival and then purposely lead him away from the target, and into a trap of his own. That took guts, and by the look and size of him that could only mean that this was the bodyguard. The one that was hired just weeks ago to ensure the police chief’s safety. His reputation was spotless, he was fairly well known within many circles as having never lost a client. Vincent had of course done his research on him when he first took the job, and he had to admit there was now a slight twinge of doubt as to the ease with which he could dispatch of him. Especially after just being surprised and tossed across the room. But, it was a challenge. His first real challenge in life. To overcome insurmountable odds and follow through with an objective was the mark of a true master in his craft, he wanted that title, he wanted that respect. And here was the man that stood in his way of getting it, his mind emptied and then sharply focused on the immediate threat.

One final thought of his attacker crossed his mind as he launched himself at the huge bodyguard.

He was just a man.