Tanuio
26-03-2005, 21:12
Secretary of State Affairs, Daniel O’Brien looked at his large grandfather clock across the room. It was five o’clock in the evening, time to get ready for the meeting. He turned of the television and stood up. He stretched out his arms and yawned. This meeting wasn’t going to be short and he needed to look presentable before the High Council. He rummaged through his closet looking for the ten thousand dollar suit he never wore. Finally he found it, the suit needed some ironing but he really didn’t care. He brought the suit into the bathroom and hung it up on the door. He looked into the bathroom mirror and sighed. He was getting too old for this kind of work, but it was necessary to keep the message alive. Taking off all of his clothes he steps into the shower and takes a long thirty-minute shower. He turns off the water and dries himself, as he did so he heard a creak, but paid no attention to it. Must be some mouse or something he thought. He put on his suit carefully, hoping he could still fit in it. Luckily it was still a perfect fit. As he was combing his hair he heard the creak again, but there was another sound that he didn’t notice before. He tried to think hard what that sound was. His service as a Crusader Special Forces Black Operations soldier had taught him to distinguish a variety of sounds, which could be interpreted as fear, or a variety of other things. He heard the sound again, and the thought leaped into his mind of what it was. A muffled footstep, more than one.
Someone was in the house. He quietly grabbed his Glock M17, an 18 round automatic pistol. He grabbed two spare magazines and waited in the bathroom. It could be just a thief, he thought. After all, his neighborhood was known to be home to the wealthiest people in the country. But if it was a thief why wasn’t he taking anything? He heard a door slowly open, it was his bedroom door, he tried to relax his breathing and calm down a bit. He couldn’t think of no one who had the audacity to intrude into his own home. He checked his watch; he was going to have to be late to the meeting. He confirmed at least two people were in his house, both searching different rooms. He positioned himself behind his toilet exposing only a small part of his body, his pistol was steadied by both of his hands and he aimed towards the bathroom door. Suddenly he heard the footstep stop in front of the bathroom door. He stiffened his arm and slowly breathed in and out. The doorknob slowly moved, and the assailant began to very slowly open the door. A slight squeak made him stop for a moment, but he soon continued to open the door. Suddenly his attacker swung the door full open to the surprise of the Minister. The man was tall and was armed with a silenced .22 pistol. The attacker’s pistol was aimed straight at the small portion of the ministers head exposed, but before he could fire the O’Brien pulled the trigger. The first shot was a dead on shot at the attackers head, his head jolted back violently. Brain matter, blood and flesh splattered against the wall behind him. Minister O’Brien’s pistol went automatic and pelted the attackers body with five more chest shots. The attacker shook violently and fell dead to the floor.
Minister O’Brien breathed in and out slowly, trying to control the adrenaline flowing through his body. He expertly reloaded another magazine and listened. He heard nothing. Sweat from anticipation slowly dripped down his face as he continued to hear nothing. Suddenly he heard a pin being pulled. The thought of a grenade went through his men and he tried to shield as much of his body as possible. A man’s hand dropped a flashbang grenade into the bathroom. The Minister shot four automatic shots and hit the attacker in the hand. He shielded his eyes as the flashbang impacted, his ears were ringing incredibly loud, but he could still see. Another attacker threw in a smoke grenade into the bathroom. The smoke filled the entire room; the minister heard footsteps and shot wildly around at the sound. Suddenly two .22 silenced rounds hit the minister in both of his arms. The round hit his tendon, which controlled his fingers. He could do nothing now. Helplessly he lay on the bathroom floor, suddenly feeling a little light-headed. He felt two strong men pick him up and threw him on his sofa. He could make out three men pouring gasoline all over his house, making sure they left nothing that was sufficiently doused. Five men approached the minister; he could barely make out what they were saying.
“Are you sure that is him?”
“Of course, he has the ring…”
“The ring?”
“To show he is part of the Lesser Council of the The Knights of the Templar. I am rather sure he was to be promoted to the High Council…”
“Oh, what of the man from The Knights of Holy Hand?”
“He was captured earlier sometime…”
The minister didn’t bother listening after that. These men knew everything, how? The Order was the greatest kept secret, no one other than Order members even knew of its existence. He tried focusing on the men talking perhaps he might recognize them as members. As he was focusing on the men a small ring caught his eye. He searched his mind to match the rings with one of the Orders, but he came back blank. He looked more closely at the men again. All of them wore standard Black Military gear, with a black ski mask. They had .22 silenced pistols and a MP-5K suppressed hanging off their shoulders. The minister mustered enough strength to speak.
“Who are you?”
The men who were previously paying no attention to the minister stepped closer towards him. The tallest and biggest one spoke.
“That’s none of your concern. So shut up or I’ll cut out your tongue.”
The minister immediately went silent. He could tell by the tone of the man that he was serious. O’Brien tried thinking of a way out, or at least some way to contact other members of the Order. He shook his head, it was impossible, and there was no escape out of this situation. The men continued talking, but once again he didn’t even bother listening. He focused on their rings, something about them made him ill at ease. Finally he realized what it was. The ring was the sign of the Black Hand, an Order that supposedly was dead for three hundred years. Yes the rings were a definite match, a diamond shaped fist, surrounded gold painted black. As he began to wonder why the Black Hand would kidnap him the large man approached the minister again.
“We’re done here, so it looks like you’re coming along for a ride.”
The minister looked confused at the man, who now had a large grin on his face. All that the minister saw next was a large fist, and a ring coming straight for his head. Then suddenly he was out cold.
The minister was loaded into a van along with the nine of his attackers. The fire consumed the minister’s house in a matter of minutes leaving nothing but ash. The minister was driven to the Western District of Christos City, and was thrown into a small dark room, still unconscious. The tall man smiled as he watched the minister slowly regain consciousness. We’re not done with you yet, he said to himself. He then closed the heavy metal door shut, leaving Minister O’Brien by himself.
Someone was in the house. He quietly grabbed his Glock M17, an 18 round automatic pistol. He grabbed two spare magazines and waited in the bathroom. It could be just a thief, he thought. After all, his neighborhood was known to be home to the wealthiest people in the country. But if it was a thief why wasn’t he taking anything? He heard a door slowly open, it was his bedroom door, he tried to relax his breathing and calm down a bit. He couldn’t think of no one who had the audacity to intrude into his own home. He checked his watch; he was going to have to be late to the meeting. He confirmed at least two people were in his house, both searching different rooms. He positioned himself behind his toilet exposing only a small part of his body, his pistol was steadied by both of his hands and he aimed towards the bathroom door. Suddenly he heard the footstep stop in front of the bathroom door. He stiffened his arm and slowly breathed in and out. The doorknob slowly moved, and the assailant began to very slowly open the door. A slight squeak made him stop for a moment, but he soon continued to open the door. Suddenly his attacker swung the door full open to the surprise of the Minister. The man was tall and was armed with a silenced .22 pistol. The attacker’s pistol was aimed straight at the small portion of the ministers head exposed, but before he could fire the O’Brien pulled the trigger. The first shot was a dead on shot at the attackers head, his head jolted back violently. Brain matter, blood and flesh splattered against the wall behind him. Minister O’Brien’s pistol went automatic and pelted the attackers body with five more chest shots. The attacker shook violently and fell dead to the floor.
Minister O’Brien breathed in and out slowly, trying to control the adrenaline flowing through his body. He expertly reloaded another magazine and listened. He heard nothing. Sweat from anticipation slowly dripped down his face as he continued to hear nothing. Suddenly he heard a pin being pulled. The thought of a grenade went through his men and he tried to shield as much of his body as possible. A man’s hand dropped a flashbang grenade into the bathroom. The Minister shot four automatic shots and hit the attacker in the hand. He shielded his eyes as the flashbang impacted, his ears were ringing incredibly loud, but he could still see. Another attacker threw in a smoke grenade into the bathroom. The smoke filled the entire room; the minister heard footsteps and shot wildly around at the sound. Suddenly two .22 silenced rounds hit the minister in both of his arms. The round hit his tendon, which controlled his fingers. He could do nothing now. Helplessly he lay on the bathroom floor, suddenly feeling a little light-headed. He felt two strong men pick him up and threw him on his sofa. He could make out three men pouring gasoline all over his house, making sure they left nothing that was sufficiently doused. Five men approached the minister; he could barely make out what they were saying.
“Are you sure that is him?”
“Of course, he has the ring…”
“The ring?”
“To show he is part of the Lesser Council of the The Knights of the Templar. I am rather sure he was to be promoted to the High Council…”
“Oh, what of the man from The Knights of Holy Hand?”
“He was captured earlier sometime…”
The minister didn’t bother listening after that. These men knew everything, how? The Order was the greatest kept secret, no one other than Order members even knew of its existence. He tried focusing on the men talking perhaps he might recognize them as members. As he was focusing on the men a small ring caught his eye. He searched his mind to match the rings with one of the Orders, but he came back blank. He looked more closely at the men again. All of them wore standard Black Military gear, with a black ski mask. They had .22 silenced pistols and a MP-5K suppressed hanging off their shoulders. The minister mustered enough strength to speak.
“Who are you?”
The men who were previously paying no attention to the minister stepped closer towards him. The tallest and biggest one spoke.
“That’s none of your concern. So shut up or I’ll cut out your tongue.”
The minister immediately went silent. He could tell by the tone of the man that he was serious. O’Brien tried thinking of a way out, or at least some way to contact other members of the Order. He shook his head, it was impossible, and there was no escape out of this situation. The men continued talking, but once again he didn’t even bother listening. He focused on their rings, something about them made him ill at ease. Finally he realized what it was. The ring was the sign of the Black Hand, an Order that supposedly was dead for three hundred years. Yes the rings were a definite match, a diamond shaped fist, surrounded gold painted black. As he began to wonder why the Black Hand would kidnap him the large man approached the minister again.
“We’re done here, so it looks like you’re coming along for a ride.”
The minister looked confused at the man, who now had a large grin on his face. All that the minister saw next was a large fist, and a ring coming straight for his head. Then suddenly he was out cold.
The minister was loaded into a van along with the nine of his attackers. The fire consumed the minister’s house in a matter of minutes leaving nothing but ash. The minister was driven to the Western District of Christos City, and was thrown into a small dark room, still unconscious. The tall man smiled as he watched the minister slowly regain consciousness. We’re not done with you yet, he said to himself. He then closed the heavy metal door shut, leaving Minister O’Brien by himself.