Deadly Angels

Epilogue

Part one

THE PROLOGUE

Location – KREMLIN, Moscow

It all started below the grounds of Kremlin.

If you ever try to get some information about this case, you are wasting your time. No files, no hard disks, everything happened without a sign, so there is no way you get what you want. For the people who took the novel taking the title too seriously, I tell you, Deadly Angels is nothing. It’s just a group of deadly men who think their work is angelic in any way. Well, they can be called the not-so-cop-like-cops. But to know them better, you need to read the book and judge them your way. Though not a biography, it helps you to figure out what they do.

Anyway, concentrating on the story, we come back to Kremlin. Kremlin, by definition is a fortified town. The most famous of them, is the Moscow Kremlin. No one would have believed the US was here, so most of the meetings happened here. A place loved by tourists. People with little knowledge became tourist guides, but Simon Taylor wasn’t here for snapping some family pictures. He was here for a mission. A mission, a big one. He put down the newspaper, poured some ‘61 chateau latour on the wine glass, and deep breathed. He had Eurasian built-up, blue eyes, a prominent forehead and was clean-shaven. The room was suffocating him. ‘Control Simon, control.’ Taylor tapped his feet on desperation.

‘Any problem, monsieur?’ asked the Swiss Guard.

‘No.’ Taylor replied in one word.

‘Well Mr. Daniel Rushdie left you this envelope.’

‘Oh, great, I actually thought he would come,’ frowned Simon. The Swiss Guard gave the letter. Simon’s stony blue eyes were filled with energy whenever he read a letter like this, but this time the expression was tense.

‘Simon, I am sorry I couldn’t come as I promised, but what does a promise mean to us, eh? I know you have the best men for these kinds of job, and you are our only hope ...’

It wasn’t that Simon was afraid of these words, Daniel Rushdie, the director of national intelligence (which is one of the most important posts of US, probably a higher rank than the president, himself) always exaggerated things. It was the last words that caught his attention which would better be explained later at the first chapter.

How could someone attempt to do this? Even for Taylor, who witnesses the dirtiest crimes, it was pathetic.

"So you want the best men, right" grinned Taylor whose expression changed like a traffic light. Then, he stayed there for 2 minutes, then, as if someone gave him a shock, he started jogging and closed the door, climbed the ladder and exposed his face to the fresh air and the warmth of the sun feeling like a prisoner released after 14 years.

He drove the Rolls-Royce which was surrounded by 2 boys. He dialed a number.

‘Hello?’ answered the receiver.

‘I want the best man in the entire organization at Texas as soon as possible, OK?’

‘Ok, sir’ Mark knew something big was gonna happen soon.

The main story:

Part two

Enter The Dragon

Location – Sierra Leone

‘Hey you boy with the dog-bites!’ shouted the foreigner.

‘It’s a knife scar, American.’ Jamal stared hard at the American. The American was a green eyed, not many you see in Sierra Leone. He had a perfect built up, a well-toned body of 6 foot 2 inches, 26, spikes of a strange kind.

‘My blood is climbing towards my brain. At least tie me straight!’ complained the foreigner innocently.

‘So? You expect us to give you a bed? With us singing a lullaby? Twinkle twinkle little star?’

‘You know lullabies? My grannie used to sing one to me, and, for your kind information, TTLS is a nursery rhyme.’

Jamal gave him a blank expression, he never could get through with an American accent, and all he could understand properly was the American’s name- James Johansson.

James noticed Jamal staring at him bluntly. ‘What are you staring at nit-wit?’

Jamal moved around James, examining him. James rotated the pin between his index and his middle finger, dying for a chance to use it. Jamal completed a round around James. He stopped. His posture was straight. His chin was held a little higher than the usual. It was sort of funny, as that made it hard for him to stare at James’s eyes, as he was upright. Jamal held his gun close to his chest.

James noticed the gun in Jamal’s hand. ‘Is that your gun? That’s a Bison 2b, right? Hard to get one of those.’

‘This?’ Jamal pointed the gun towards James and laughed hysterically. Bison 2b was one heck of a gun. His gun did the rest of the talking.

‘Good men never fight.’

‘Then you shouldn’t have picked up a fight with us, right?’ Jamal started getting involved more and more in this conversation.

‘Who said I am a good man?’ whispered James.

-30 minutes later-

James picked up his cell-phone.

It was Mark Hunt. He was the fat bodyguard of the D.A’s boss, Simon Taylor.

‘Where are you right now,’ asked the bodyguard.

‘Right now?’ Started James, ‘right now, I am at the jungles of Sierra Leone practicing my shooting at rabbits.’

‘Have you finished your mission?’

‘I finished the men. They started to get on my nerves.’

‘No problem, but with what are you shooting.’

‘My newly acquired Bison 2B.’

Mark released the "you-are-pathetic" sigh. ‘No one wastes those bullets for shooting rabbits. Simon’s arranged a pilot and a chopper for you. You need to report at the Headquarters till tomorrow morning.’

Location – USA, Texas

Mark waited for James in the Dallas Fort Worth airport, Texas. 17207 acres. One of the busiest airports in the USA. Nearly 57 million passengers boarding or landing per year. It was in fact the eight most busiest airport in the whole world, second in the U.SA after Atlanta. There are 6 terminals – A,B,C,D,E. He waited in terminal D. The newest one. All the others were semicircular, but this one was a bit square on the ends. Mark knew he should have carried a book on world history, because he never enjoyed watching silly normal people. Though he always wanted to be one .They were so lucky, man! They had a family. They had a normal job. Atleast a job which was open to everyone. "What about me?" Was the question which he asked to himself. ‘You are doing something much more important than this’ told his mind. But did those words make-up for it? No. He was a tiger outside, but inside, he too feared of dying alone…

Mark returned to the world by clearing up his throat. A recorded voice announced the landing. He stood up. Though the runway was prohibited, he could watch the flight coming even from the terminal. Wooooooshhh! A loud landing voice was enough to tell the flight landed. The flight landed. Mark’s height prohibited the faces, so he started sorting people by their hairs. brown hair, black hair, slightly orange hair , curved hair , where the hell did this lad die?

‘Is this the way an agent covers himself?’ Mark turned to find a greasy hair, green eyed man, 26, positioning his hand on top of his head, and mimicking the shape of a gun.

‘Do that once again, and you are begging for a sweeper’s job,’ actually that was pretty lame of Mark, as he couldn’t do anything like this.

‘That’s pretty generous, as I am tired here,’ said James pretty relaxed.

Mark dialed a no. in his cell-phone.

‘Sir I have got James Johansson. Green eyed, greasy hair, 26 and very arrogant,’ said Mark.

‘That’s him, now bring him to me.’

‘Come, Simon is waiting for you’

James followed him to the parking. It was an underground parking. There was like 70 cars. No doubt 12 belonged to them.

‘So what’s up with the funny spikes?’ asked Mark.

‘This works as a stress buster in my missions’

After some minutes, Mark escorted him to the car. There he met Taylor, A man of 50+, dressed in an impeccable tuxedo. Mark closed the door for James and Taylor and took the other car parked just behind theirs. James watched him go, and then adjusted himself on the seat. Rolls Royce Wraith looked as beautiful from inside as from the outside.

‘Now I want one of those’

‘500k for one of these. But if you want, I can give you a 1913 Wraith.’ Simon never missed a chance to show off.

‘Nah, I am good with my Polo.’

Simon showed a reluctant smile and then instructed the driver to leave. The engine roared and the other cars followed. Simon opened a file. Simon’s eyebrow arched. James knew it wasn’t any office file, he was reading James’s file.

‘Great’ thought James.

Mark closed the door. Wow, A man 16 years younger than you is sitting with the director, and you are body-guarding them. Wonder wonders where the boy goes after 42. Mark gritted his teeth.

‘Driver, follow.’

-No reaction-

‘I told let’s go.’ showing his little power to the driver.

‘Uh…sorry sir, It’s just I never saw that driver on duty. Isn’t it strange that a man with no previous expertise is driving the director’s car?

-Silence-

‘That’s none of our business,’ Mark replied.

‘No problem, sir.’

‘Huhhh… So James is your name.’

‘Wow, like he never knew that, thought James, but something told him to stay quiet.

‘I don’t know you are a hero or not, Oh, but I can state without batting my eyelid that you are just an idiot who couldn’t save the life of 4