The Fallen - Ch.002 [Rescue From Hell]

The Fallen

Chapter II - Rescue From Hell

Reann was in her car, cruising along the freeway to her next destination. Her thoughts lingered on Tykor, wondering what made him act so erratically during his stay at the Sanitorium and why he acted so normal around her. When her thoughts started to linger on more delicate aspects, she shook her head and turned the radio on.

There was news being blurted out, one of those ridiculous ‘gangsta’ stations, where you’d have to drink a couple of bottles of wine to make any sense out of it. But she didn’t want to listen to the news, or have her IQ drop several points either, so she put on one of her CDs and let her classical orchestra music relieve her stress.

As she cruised along to Mozart, she began to think over of how she managed to get her current assignment. The pay was good and it gave her a chance to get out of the office, away from those perverts called ‘co-workers’ and her awful boss who constantly thinks that she only wants to sleep with him. She knew she was good-looking, but she didn’t go around advertising it with revealing and suggestive clothing. In fact, because of her working environment, she had started to wear three-piece suits that she found very comfortable, making her look more ‘special-agent’ than ever. Even the Italian shoes were a welcome change from the high-heels she used to wear.

She pulled off the freeway and was now wheeling from street to street, looking for the place she was suppose to be. Eventually she found it, parked her car and headed towards the entrance of the building. And of course like all men, she got several wolf-whistles as she walked past. Her thoughts lingered once more on Tykor, reminiscing on how laid-back he was and didn’t act like a total buffoon. Just as her thoughts were starting to dwell on how good he looked naked, she noticed something: she was already becoming depressed and she hadn’t even opened the door yet.

Reann was sitting by herself in a room with two doors. In front of her were a worn wooden table and another chair, waiting to be occupied. She was tapping a rhythm out on the table, getting bored with all the waiting and missing her apartment. She didn’t have to wait much longer though, as the door in front of her opened. Inside stepped a man who was rather slender looking, out of place in his current clothing of orange.

The door closed as he stepped forward and took a seat in the rickety chair, creaking slightly as he tried to shift comfortably on the hard surface. Reann still hadn’t stopped tapping on the tabletop, raising an eyebrow at the strange specimen in front of her. When it became apparent that he wasn’t going to open his mouth, she decided to be the first to break the silence.

“Do you know who I am or why I am here?”

The only answer she got was a shrug of the shoulders and further shifting in his chair.

“Well, I’d be surprised if you did know. I, however, know who you are and also why you are here, Zack.”

No shrug this time and the shifting stopped for the moment.

“Arrested for the possession of forty pounds of marijuana, it’s no wonder why you got sent to this hellhole. Can’t imagine how they’ve been treating you, with your soft features and slender build. I’m guessing it’s really hard to get comfortable at all, isn’t it?”

“What do you want?”

“Ah, so you can talk. I was beginning to wonder if they hadn’t gone too far, which is a relief. How would a pardon sound with immediate emancipation sound? Think of it as your ‘Get Out Of Jail Free’ card.”

“What’s the catch?”

“You do exactly what I say, when I say it when you are released. Otherwise, you’ll get to continue the occupation of your cell with your wonderful friend Emmanuel. I’m sure he’s missing you already.”

“You could put me in a situation which is worse than what I am in right now.”

“Oh come on! You’ll have immunity from the law and all you have to do is whatever I tell you to. If I tell you to jump, you jump. If I tell you smash someone’s head in, you will do just that. This is not a democracy. Either you accept my offer or you’ll be dressed up all nice and pretty before being sent back to your lover boy.”

Silence filled the room as Zack weighed up his options, shifting again in his chair and wincing slightly. He wasn’t a mercenary or a killer; he was just a very good shot and got paid very well for his bulls-eyes.

“Tell you what: I’m going to head outside for a coffee, let you think about it. And then I’ll come back and see what you have to say about my offer.”

She got up and headed to the door. As she stepped outside, she turned back to Zack.

“Do you like yours with cream and sugar?”

Reann wasn’t exactly happy with what she had told the poor kid, but she had been given strict orders and she always followed through. It also helped relieve some of the frustration she had stored up from her days at the office. Somehow though, she couldn’t help but get a bad feeling about the whole ordeal. First a man who should have been dead gets busted out of a madhouse. Now, a kid at least 6 years her junior is being given a chance to have his once pristine record, now suddenly given an offence which would revoke his licence, wiped clean again, while giving him some pretty morally questioning jobs. And her next objective is a woman who has been discharged for assaulting a superior officer, and she was to be given a chance as well.

Reann sipped her coffee thoughtfully, grimacing through the awful quality of ‘java’, thinking again of her wonderful apartment. She started to miss playing her harp, although her thoughts quickly went back to Tykor. She didn’t know why she thought about him so much, but something about him just clicked with her.

Almost like clockwork, someone disturbed her in her daydreams. It was the Prison Warden, asking her if she had finished with his prisoner yet while commenting on how ‘banging hot’ she was. She responded with a smile, saying that she was going to go back in to finish with him and slapped the Warden on his bald patch in his hairline. It provoked an unusual reaction, but Reann wasn’t going to tell him that she had just insulted him and was grateful how moronic and ignorant some people could be.

Reann placed her own coffee in front of her, offering it to Zack who gratefully accepted it. She hoped he had finally made his mind up on which action he should take.

“So have you finally decided whether or not to accept my gracious offer? The clock is ticking….”

“Well I don’t really have much of a choice, do I? Either I agree to do whatever I’m told to do or I get my ass ripped to shreds by some baka who can’t even count up to kyo in his own language.”

“Is that a yes or a no, then?”

“Yes! Of course, yes!”

“Very well, I shall arrange your release with the Warden and have you out as a free man within the hour. You made the right choice.”

As Reann left the room, Zack let out a sigh of relief. Apparently, his luck was on the rise again and he hoped that he wouldn’t just end up falling flat on his ass again. He didn’t know if he could take another dosage of Emmanuel. Even if his dick was ridiculously small, it still hurt like hell.

Reann was good to her word and had Zack released not twenty minutes after she had left the room. It felt good to be on the other side of the fence again and spent almost no time in getting a new set of clothing from the best store he could find. Once he had gotten into his new jeans and t-shirt, he headed over to the clinic to get a check-up on his condition.

He was told that it would take around a week to get him his results back, which he would receive by e-mail. As he left the building, he noticed that his phone was ringing with an unknown number. He cautiously picked it up and asked who it was.

“This is Reann. As you might remember, you gave your word to do anything I tell you to. You will receive a string of messages; a new one after each part of your task is completed. I will be watching you always to make sure you do not fail or that test you just took will be in vain. Now, your first step is to go to the firearms store three blocks away. A map will be sent shortly to your phone. When you arrive your next instruction will be sent. Don’t disappoint me.”

Zack looked at his phone, which almost immediately beeped after she had hung up. It was indeed a map to the gun store three blocks away. Zack suddenly shivered, getting a very bad feeling of what was to come.

Zack’s phone beeped once more, and he read the message.

“Your target is about to leave the building.”

Zack put the phone back and looked through his scope at the building in question. The press were gathered at the base of the stairs, eager to get an interview out of anyone official looking. Looking further up the stairs, the doors to the building opened and some men in suits stepped out. Zack almost shook in shock, for his target had just stepped through the doorway.

It was his manager and best friend. His target was that man, whom he had trusted for so many years, and now he had been given no reason as to why but he was his target. Zack wanted so badly to get up, run away or do something other than what he was about to do, but he couldn’t. He was scared of what would happen if he would refuse to comply. So he did the only thing he could do.

He calmed himself down, wiped some of the sweat off of his hands and brow, and looked down his scope once more. He only had a small window, when his target would talk to the eager press, hungry for the words coming out of his mouth, true or false. Zack tightened his grip and started to squeeze, which resulted in a click. One final squeeze and it would be over.

Time seemed to have slowed down. Zack thought about all the times he had spent with his friend, how they had their highs and lows through the years. They had both become rich through his skill, but then he wondered what he had done to earn his money. Zack had the hands, the eyes and the skill. All he ever did was take his money for getting him into the competitions. And then he thought about Emmanuel, laughing and grunting as he raped him without remorse or feeling, the pain as clear as day.

Zack felt cold, he felt anger coursing through his veins. With the adrenalin pumping through his entire body, he gave the final squeeze.

Reann was in her car, listening to the screams as chaos surrounded the courthouse. She wondered if Zack knew how badly he was being ripped off by his, supposed, best friend. Maybe he realized that he was trying to sue Zack for damaging his reputation, or that it was his drugs that had been found.

Whatever it was, Zack pulled through and took his first life. She didn’t know though, whether that made him better or worse as a person. He was a hell of a sniper though, that was for sure. Maybe when it comes down to it, every single person would put the lives of others before their own.

As she went to turn the keys, she remembered something: Tykor had put his life on the line to save his men. Maybe because he was so different than the rest, is why she thought of him so often. She brushed the thought aside and started her car, pulling out and heading to her final destination.

“You will be contacted again within the week. Be ready and stay low.”