Chapter 8 - As Agent Dean Statham
1418 Words
Three days after the assassin was sent in, Randy woke up with the weight of the prison’s heavy silence pressing down on him.
He knew he needed to end this phase as soon as possible. He needed to step out and get Pamela. But there was only one way he could do that, to end the mission regarding Minister Thomas.
He had been contacting the orphanage to check on Pamela and he wanted to hold her again.
Unable to keep his anxiety, he called the orphanage again and asked that Pamela be put on the phone.
“Hello, puppet.”
“Hello, Mister.”
“How are you doing? Are you eating well?”
“Yes, mister. When are you coming to get me? When am I meeting Daddy?”
“Soon…”
After the call, he felt the urge to hasten the mission of he can and he decided to check on Minister Thomas, the man whose life had become entangled with his. He needed to see that Thomas was all right.
"Thomas?" he called out, his voice barely a whisper.
The minister looked up, his face pale and drawn. He was sitting on his cot, his eyes red-rimmed.
“Randy, thank God you’re here," Thomas said, his voice strained. “There was… a man. He tried to get in here last night.”
“Did you see him? What did he look like?” Randy asked, his voice hard, his eyes scanning every inch of the cell. He knew who it was, a phantom of a man who had been whispered about in the prison yard, the assassin they were all supposed to be wary of.
“I couldn’t see his face. He was masked, but I could hear him trying to get through the bars,” Thomas answered.
“Most of my boys are in the hole due to the last riot so I'll keep an eye on you for now,” Randy said, trying to sound reassuring even as he felt a knot of unease in his stomach.
He left Thomas’s cell and started walking back to the yard. The prison yard then presented a picture to him. He saw that he was the only one without a gang.
All his men had been holed, even Piper. Robin had been called by the Governor and hadn't returned. Maybe he had been holed too. He had no idea.
There he realized that he had been isolated and that something was up. But he didn't know what was happening or how it would happen.
***
A few hours later, he found himself back in Thomas’s cell. This time, the air hung heavy, charged with a palpable sense of fear.
There was a vacant emptiness in the cell, a silence that screamed of something terribly wrong. He saw it immediately, the tell-tale signs of a struggle.
There were scuff marks on the floor, remnants of a desperate struggle, and Thomas was nowhere to be seen. He followed the trail of scuff marks, his heart pounding like a drum against his ribs. He knew the mission was on and he must not fail.
The scuff marks led him to the prison store, a small room where inmates could buy limited supplies of food and hygiene products. As he pushed the heavy door open, he was met with a horrifying sight. Thomas was tied to an iron pole, his mouth gagged with a thick piece of cloth.
A young man stood in the center of the room, holding a camera. He was the youngest among the new inmates they had received last week, a boy with a deceptively innocent face.
“This is my hit,” the young man sneered, his eyes gleaming with a predatory glint. "Deal with yours behind."
Randy turned, revealing another figure lurking in the shadows. It was Robin.
“Robin?”
“Yes, boss, Tate and Jamie offered me more than I will ever get from drugs. But I have to take you out."
He was Leonard operating in Randy, but he felt the same betrayal he felt from Maggie. It was a world where anyone could turn and he huffed.
He gestured towards Randy. "We have decided to work together, me and the assassin, after Thomas. And then we will end you both. We have made a deal."
Randy’s eyes darted back and forth between the two assassins, his mind struggling to make sense of the betrayal.
He saw the fear in Thomas’s eyes, a silent plea for help. His mission was clear. He had to save Thomas, but he also had to kill the assassin.
To prevent the inevitable. Randy lunged at the assassin and he dodged the blow. Now, the assassin and Robin stood side by side, their eyes set on Randy.
“We have agreed to work together,” Robin said. “We take you out, then we take Thomas out.”
The assassin saw his chance and lunged. He drew out a dagger, its blade glinting under the dim light. Randy, caught off guard, dodged the first strike, his instincts as Randy The Big Axe took over.
He moved with an agility honed by years of fighting, his body a weapon in itself. He launched himself at the assassin, his fists connecting with the assassin's ribs. The assassin stumbled, his grip on the dagger loosening. Randy saw his opportunity.
“You’re gonna pay for this,” Randy snarled at Robin his voice low and guttural.
Robin, armed with his axe, charged towards Randy. The fight turned into a brutal dance of desperation, a desperate scramble for survival.
“I know you, Boss. We trained together. You can't kill me.”
He stepped towards Robin, his movements deliberate, his eyes fixed on the axe clutched in Robin’s hand. He knew he had to kill Robin. He had to do it to survive.
He couldn't afford to hesitate. He blocked a blow, dodged a thrust, his eyes never leaving Robin’s. They circled each other, a dance of death played out in the dim light of the prison store.
In the end, it was a single, desperate move. Randy caught Robin’s arm, twisted it with a bone-crushing force, and then with a swift, lethal motion, he drove his dagger deep into Robin’s chest.
Robin gasped, his eyes widening in disbelief. His hand instinctively clutched at the wound. Randy watched as his betrayer collapsed to the floor, his life seeping out onto the cold, hard concrete.
The assassin, regaining his balance, took out another dagger and struck again. The dagger found its mark, tearing through Randy’s shoulder. Randy roared in pain, his vision blurring with a mixture of blood and adrenaline. But he wasn’t done. He couldn’t afford to be done. He couldn't afford to go down as that would signal the end of his life.
In a move born from desperation, Randy caught the assassin’s wrist, twisting it with a bone-crushing force. He heard a crack, the assassin yelped in pain.
Randy moved with lightning speed and drove the dagger deep into the assassin's chest. The assassin let out a gasp, his eyes widening in disbelief.
In response, he struck too, his dagger found its way into Randy's chest, in the place of his heart.
He stumbled back, his hand clutching the wound, his eyes filled with a desperate fear as he collapsed on the floor. The fight was over. The assassin was dead. And he was wounded too.
He looked at Thomas and then turned his head to see Piper and the rest of the gang rushing in, as well as the guards.
His eyes were fading, and he wasn't reluctant to let it fade, knowing he would wake into something else, someone else.
As he was being moved on a stretcher to the clinic, he faded out.
***
He felt his head on a cushioned desk with the smell of coffee on the table. The coffee soaked his shirt and tie.
When he raised his head, he was in an elegant office with medals on the table and some were hung on the wall.
Three phones were on the table, as well as a laptop which displayed a bank figure — 231 Billion Dollars under an account name Dean Statham.
“Is this who I am now?” He wondered.
The door suddenly opened and a team of undercover agents entered. “Detective, the deputy calls for you ?” The team leader called.
Agent Dean Statham; the city's best.
- Writer
