The Killing Scripture

Prologue

PROLOGUE

April 6th, 2016 - Warsaw, Poland

Garret peeked in the back-view mirror to check flashing lights behind him. The night traffic on highway A1 seemed regular to him. He was driving a silver Galloper which he rented from a car rental in Calais. He had paid in cash that invited scrutinized looks from the guy in showroom. He could not afford to use credit cards now without endangering his life. His only hope to survival was to reach his destination in one piece.

He checked the co-ordinates again; they were pointing to a small town north of London. He wondered what he would do after submitting his work. He was a scientist who recently finished his PhD in genetics from University of Warsaw. He had no future plans as of now. His friends at university asked him several times about it, but he never replied. He liked doing research work, but in present circumstances, he wondered whether it was the best course of action or not. That was before the arrival of Boogeyman.

Boogeyman! Garret took a long breath and checked fuel. It was almost going out. He needed to stop to get fuel otherwise he would be stranded on a highway in a country where he didn’t know anyone except a co-ordinate.

So, the boogeyman had finally come to the Warsaw and exterminated the whole division. That was his theory because he never checked back. He was sleeping in his apartment when got a call from Filip.

“What’s up?”

“Garret! Where are you?” Filip’s voice was shaking with panic and fear.

“At home. Why?”

“You need to get out of there. Immediately! We are exposed, all of us. He is coming.”

Garret could tell by the hyperventilating voice that Filip was running. He turned to the brunette laying on his bed snoring contentedly. His mind was clear. Garret did not get panicked easily. He always kept composure and—a backup plan.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“To the hideout. You also come fast.”

There was no use of going to the hideout, but there was no point in telling this to Filip. They were exposed, all of them. By now, the boogeyman would had known the location of the hideout as well. Garret knew that the only real threat to them was Max, or the Boogeyman, as he was officially called. If he came after them, he would attack the database first, and then he would know everything; their addresses, their phone numbers, their bank accounts, and also the hideout. Staying away from the brothers was his best chance of survival.

Garret was not a fighter. He knew he won’t stand a chance in a face-to-face combat. The most he could do to help his brothers was to secure his work. In wrong hands, his work could be used to kill millions. He had to make sure that the research would stay with his own people so he ran from his hometown, Warsaw. He had left his phone in his apartment along with his credit cards. He had a bag with burner phones, sufficient number of Euros, and a small medicine kit. He had also put canned food and water bottles in it.

Boogeyman had some special interest in the brotherhood. He had made it his purpose of life to wipe out the brotherhood from the face of earth. Some people said he was also a brother and then he sold some researches to the Soviet government during the cold war. Poland was a satellite state of Soviet Union at that time, but it was against the brotherhood code.

All the research work done by the brothers should have been the exclusive property of brotherhood. Nobody outside of the brotherhood should know anything about the brotherhood or the work conducted by the brothers.

But that was just a theory.

None of the young generation of the brotherhood knew anything about the Boogeyman and the old ones didn’t want to talk about it.

He checked the GPS again. It would only take an hour more to him to reach his destination. A fuel station was getting nearer and he was also feeling hungry by now. He tuned the Galloper into the petrol pump to refuel it. He might be using the same to go to Vienna next. Taking gas from the dispenser, he was thinking about going in the foodmart to buy something when something hit him hard on his head.

The last thing he remembered was the hose dropping down from his hand, and then he passed out falling on the concrete floor of the fuel station.