THE ADVENT

Chapter 1 The door to the barn opened with a crash. A woman stepped out, dishevelled, smelly, covered in her own filth. Her clothes, even in her present condition, were unmistakably expensive. Her carefully done nails had several splinters, she had bruises on her arms, and a black eye. She had spent the past 24 hours in the barn, unconscious. She had woken up in utter darkness, dazed and confused, numbness everywhere and a strange feeling in her mouth that she couldn't place. She clawed her way around, and finally found a hammer and chopped her way out. She blinked in the sudden light and looked around cautiously. There was no one. The barn was in the middle of nowhere. She could see hills in the horizon. She took a couple of steps, then frowned. Looked down at her feet. All her toes were missing. She opened her mouth to scream.... A scream that froze in her throat. She frantically put her fingers in her mouth, then collapsed in sobs. Her tongue was missing as well. Dana Willis would never speak again. Chapter 2 Several hundred miles away, Tom Hardy awoke with a start. He looked around, and saw a well furnished penthouse bedroom, and a woman sleeping beside him. He struggled to remember how he got there, as he watched the woman's body rise and fall with every breath. Finally, his brain having failed him, he looked around, found his clothes, and left through the front door. He didn't look back once. Later, back in his small studio apartment, as he sipped his extra large black coffee, his phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID : John Cooper. He groaned, considered letting it ring. Then he answered. " I'm on vacation, John. Someone better be dead". Silence on the other end. Then John cleared his throat. "Well, actually...." "Is someone dead, John?" "Not technically, no." "Then find someone else to deal with it." "But..." "Bye, John." Hardy hung up. He sighed. In his ten years with the FBI, this was his first vacation, before he would start a new job as the head of an elite international task force. While most people travelled to exotic places for vacation time, Tom Hardy spent his vacation right here in New York, roaming around aimlessly, hitting the bars, waking up in a new place every morning with no recollection of getting there. He had spent two weeks this way, and enjoyed every minute of it. Two minutes later, the phone rang again. Caller ID : Natasha Solosky. He had heard of her, of course. The computer nerd who saved the careers of several agents using her skills to catch perps. It was no longer about chasing them with your g*n out and your flabby skin beating around you as you ran like hell to keep up. It was about digital traps, frozen bank accounts, using facial recognition software to capture anyone, anywhere. The damn digital age. He sighed again. He better be civil towards her. "Special Agent Solosky? To what do I owe the pleasure?" He heard her stutter over the line, " I'm reporting in sir..." "There is no need to call me sir. Just call me Tom. We're both the same rank." And then he remembered he was now head of a task force, so he was no longer the same rank as her. Still no reason for her to call him sir. "Oh..um, well... actually, you are my boss, so maybe I should stick with sir." Her boss? "Who told you I'm your boss? I haven't picked my team yet." "Your team has been picked for you, sir. Three of us." He was silent for so long, Solosky though he has disconnected. "Sir?" "Yes. I'm here. So who else is on the team, apart from you?" "Oh..um..maybe I shouldn't have called.." "Who else?" "Oh God. Okay, um, John Cooper and Anna Salim. From counter terrorism." John Cooper. So that's why he was calling. "Okay. And Solosky, please call me Tom. Welcome to the team, I guess." And just like that, all her awkward hesitation vanished. "Ooohh thanks Tom. You can call me Nat. Or Natty. Whichever you prefer. I guess I'll meet you at the crime scene. Ciao!" And she hung up. Hardy smiled. Then frowned. Crime Scene? He sighed a third time, then dialed John Cooper again. Time for the team to meet.