Chapter One

They apprehended him while he was leaving his Hotel.

They followed him the six blocks to his car.

He always parked six blocks away.

The rain was bouncing heavily off his dashboard when he got in the car. His glasses were wet from the downpour.

He didn't see the woman that was in the car, lying on the floor of the back seat, holding a gun.

He was about halfway to the airport when the woman in the back sat up, pointing the gun at his face.

"Pull over"

He did as he was told, and the woman proceeded to order him to move to the passenger side.

He did.

On any other day, the drivers on the highway would have looked over and seen his predicament.

Today, however, it was raining.

It took three months to find a day when the conditions were perfect.

They probably could have managed it another way, without the weather being involved.

But they wanted it to be like this. They wanted it to be perfect.

She handcuffed him to the dashboard so that he couldn't escape. She continued driving until she reached the marina.

She put the gun in her holster and got out of the car. Carefully breaking open a new carton, she pulled out a cigarette, struggling to light it up with the rain.

She hated smoking. It was a terrible habit.

But this, too, was part of the plan.

She walked to the end of the dock, inhaled deeply so that the end glowed, and then tossed it into the water.

Ten minutes later, a dark SUV appeared and parked nearby. It flashed its lights once.

Only once.

The woman went back to the car, opened the passenger-side door, and looked at him.

She pointed to a motorboat. "I'm going to take off the hand-cuffs now. You will walk to that boat and not make a sound. You do, and it'll be your last."

He nodded. He followed her directions, and she quickly took a briefcase from the back seat, and then followed him to the boat.

They went drove out for an hour, until land was no longer visible. The woman opened her briefcase, taking out a syringe.

"You caused us a lot of anguish, you know that?"

He nodded.

She smiled and turned towards him, instructing him to roll up his sleeve.

He didn't bother struggling. There wasn't a point. He looked up at the moon, staring at it intently.

"Man of few words, aren't you?"

He stood up quickly and punched her in the face. She fell to the floor of the boat, hand grappling for her gun.

It was too late. He was on top of her, punching her repeatedly.

She tried to fight back, but she couldn't. As she lost consciousness, he grabbed her pistol, standing up.

"Don't kill me," she pleaded, "I have a family. I can tell you whatever you want."

Without the barest shred of emotion on his face, he unloaded three shots into her head.

He knew he was finished. He had killed this woman, but there would be more.

He was too right.

As he pulled into the harbor, a sniper put a round in the boat's engine.

It exploded with incredible force, sending him flying off of the boat and into the water.

The sniper knew he was dead, but he took two more shots at the man's torso. It never hurt to make sure. He ripped out his cell-phone.

He did not know who he was working for on this assignment, and he only knew the man he just killed by some bizarre code-name.

He heard the voice on the other line.

"It's me," he said, "I killed the Vanquisher."