Codename: Aconite

Avenging Angel

I watch with satisfaction as the cleaners wrap up Zephyr’s body to carry his worthless carcass out of the meeting room. The men slowly slink out one at a time, glancing at Zephyr’s face frozen and contorted in a state of agony as the cleaners zip the body bag closed. Some men’s eyes fill with contempt for their traitorous brethren, while others fill with trepidation. It’s the trepidation that concerns me. Contempt tells me they feel he got what he deserved. Trepidation means they think they could be next, and that begs the question… what have they done to make them fear such retaliation?

As the last of the men leaves the room, Dimitris walks over and places a gentle hand on my shoulder, once again giving it a firm squeeze as he looks at me with appreciative eyes.

“I know I keep giving you my thanks, but I am truly grateful for everything you’ve done,” he says with deep sincerity.

“Don’t mention it. What’s family for if not to torture and kill your enemies?” I ask playfully, earning a mild chortle from his lips.

“You truly are your mother’s daughter,” he muses.

“Something that she and my wife would take as the highest compliment,” adds my father, walking over and pulling me into a tight hug.

I smile and relax into my father’s embrace, hooking my arms under his shoulders, returning his hug as I breathe in his familiar cologne. He’s worn the same cologne my whole life, and whenever I smell it it’s as though I can feel his arms around me, and I’m immediately lulled into a cocoon of relaxation.

“Have you heard from mother?” I ask.

“She checked in just last night; she’s doing fine. She can take care of herself,” he says confidently.

I have every faith in my mother’s abilities, but she’s still my mother and so, naturally, I will always be concerned for her wellbeing. To me, she will always be my loving – though at times pushy – mother, and to my father, she will always be his beautiful, Noemi, but in our world of killers, she is neither a mother nor a wife. She is just another assassin; known only by the codename Veil. Mother’s speciality is asphyxiation, which is how she got her codename. I remember when I was young I asked her why she prefers that method since it’s slower and more strenuous. She told me that there’s no greater feeling of power than holding someone’s life in your hands and feeling the moment you bring it to an end. There was nothing sadistic about what she said, if anything, she said it with a sense of reverence. This realisation that while it typically takes two to create life, it only takes one to end it, is something that has stayed with me since.

“Any idea how much longer the job will take?” I query.

“She said probably another week, provided everything goes as planned.”

“I look forward to her return, it feels like I haven’t seen either of you in forever,” I sigh. Just like my mother, my job takes me all around the world and I’m not too grown to admit I still get homesick.

My father gives me a tender kiss on my forehead that again, puts me at ease. “We’ll make time for each other. We always do,” he promises, lifting my spirits.

“Speaking of making time, Mihalis, would you mind giving me a few minutes alone with Dasha?” Dimitris politely asks, but I can hear a slightly anxious tone in his voice, which is highly unusual for him and has me wondering what he could want to talk about.

“Not a problem.” My father rubs my back and exits the room being sure to close the door behind him.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, cutting to the chase.

The power and authority he exudes crumbles away as he slides his hands into the pockets of his slacks, and suddenly it’s as though I’ve watched one of the most powerful men I know, age rapidly.

“I was hoping you would try to talk to Athena,” he asks in a pleading tone.

I blink, surprised by the request. “Why me?”

“She won’t talk to me or Rhea. The most we get is a whispered ‘thank you’ when we bring her food, which she refuses to eat. I’d give anything to just be able to hold her and comfort her, but I can’t even do that,” he says, his eyes scrunching closed as his face fills with anguish while his hands fist in his pockets.

“She’s still not eating?” I ask in concern.

He shakes his head, “We’ve tried everything. I want to get her into therapy, but she’s not ready to be around strangers or talk about what happened. From the day she was placed in my arms, all I’ve ever wanted to do was keep her safe. I did my best to shield her from this life, and yet I failed anyway. How is it I couldn’t protect what matters most to me?” He asks, his voice cracking in despair; the sound of it splintering my heart.

I step forward and wrap my arms around him hugging him as tight as I can, “You did everything you could. You could have locked her in a padded room with no doors or windows for her entire life and they would still have found a way to get to her. That’s the nature of our world. If someone wants to hurt someone, nothing short of prison and death will stop them. This isn’t your fault,” I say, trying my best to console him.

“She’ll blame me.”

“Then let her. If she needs to use you as a punching bag until she feels strong again, let her. Her entire world has been destroyed. Some people never recover from that, but right now what she doesn’t need is your guilt or your pity. She was the one brutally raped, not you. I understand your pain, but she’s not ready to deal with yours as well as hers. I’ll speak to her, there’s something I want to give her anyway,” I say, rubbing his arms comfortingly.

“Don’t you dare give her a weapon,” he says in a threatening tone. I’m sure that scares most people, but it’s never done much for me.

“Afraid she’ll use it to take her own life?”

“Of course, I f*****g am! She’s more fragile than glass. I know she barely sleeps because any time she accidentally falls asleep she starts screaming from nightmares, and so we run to her, only for her to scream more when her mother and I try to comfort her,” he says as he turns and punches his fist against the wall. Even through his shirt, I can see the tension in his back, “I would rather they tortured me to death,” he whispers.

“They are torturing you to death,” I say bluntly, “What they did to her was a message to you. Breaking her and forcing you to see her broken for the rest of her life is them torturing you to death and she knows it too. She knows she was just a pawn to hurt you and I’m sure that makes this all the worse for her because she has to live knowing this had nothing to do with her. She’ll never have to ask herself, ‘maybe if I took a different route’, ‘maybe if I didn’t do this, ‘maybe this’, ‘maybe that’. No, she knows none of that mattered because this all happened because she’s your daughter.”

“DON’T YOU THINK I KNOW THAT?!” He screams, turning with the speed of a cobra’s strike, wrapping his hand around my neck, backing me against the table as he stares into my eyes with a fury that could melt the face off a weaker man.

I look calmly into his ferocious eyes, “You’re letting them win. Don’t.”

He continues to stare at me as his brain tries to translate my words, but I see they have sunk in when his fury begins to subside and he releases my neck, stepping back and putting some space between us. I stand up straight and smooth out my clothes, unfazed by his outburst. He had no intention of hurting me, he’s just on a razor’s edge, and I don’t blame him.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” he says shamefully.

“If you need to take a few swings, go for it, I can take it. It’s okay to break down and feel all that you’re feeling, but you can’t let them see it,” I say, jutting my chin towards the door. “I will paint the streets red in your name if you ask it of me. By all means, let them see your rage, but don’t let them see you break.”

He sucks in a deep breath and smooths his hair back. He slowly nods as he exhales, “You’re right. I know you’re right. I just don’t know how to hold it together when I see Athena recoil from me,” he says as he holds back the tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

“Try. For now, you need to be her pillar. When she’s stronger, then you can show her how broken you are, but for now, don’t put that burden on her. I’ll go talk to her and see if I can help in any way,” I say, stepping forward and placing a gentle kiss on his cheek, “Go have a drink and try to calm down.”

He nods, “I think that might be best. Thank you, Dasha. You’re wiser than most of the men who work for me,” he says, attempting to sound more upbeat.

“That’s what you get for not putting more women in positions of power,” I smirk, making my way to the door.

“Dasha?” He calls, making me turn around.

“I would appreciate you not telling your parents about my little outburst. I don’t need them fighting over which of them gets to mutilate me,” he says playfully.

I chuckle, “Your secret is safe with me, theeé,” I promise as I exit the room.

Most of the men and their guards have disappeared, but a handful still remain, indulging in booze and light conversation. Many are looking more laid back, which I imagine is less about relaxing and more about unburdening themselves after what they just witnessed. I ignore them as I make my way through the house to Athena’s room.

As I approach the hallway her room resides in, I see two armed men standing guard at her door and I can’t help but roll my eyes. I understand Dimitris wants to protect Athena, but putting strange, armed, threatening-looking men at her door is really not going to make her feel safer around men. He means well, but just another reason why he should recruit more women.

“Miss Hatzis,” one of the guards greets without moving an inch, “The boss said you might be stopping by.”

“Well, here I am, so you two may go on break,” I say casually.

Their posture manages to become more rigid at my words, which I find mildly amusing.

“We have been ordered to guard the boss’s daughter at all times,” the other guard explains.

“I’m sure you have, but I’m here now and she’ll be more than safe with me.”

“I don’t think the boss would like that,” says the other in a warning tone.

“I also don’t think he wants her more traumatised than she is, and your presence isn’t helping, so you can either leave of your own volition, or I can walk through you. Take your pick,” I say with a friendly smile, though my words are far from friendly.

The first guard takes a step forward to take me up on my offer but is quickly halted by the second who places a hand on his shoulder and shakes his head in warning. Smart man.

“We’ll be down the hall, we can still monitor her door from there,” calmly suggests the second guard.

“A fair compromise,” I say in agreement as the two men slowly move away from their post, though the first is sure to give me a dirty look as he passes me. I’m unclear as to what he hoped to achieve by doing that. Does he think his narrowed eyes will have me questioning my life choices? I just murdered one of the crime lords of the Drakos Mafia Family, and I did so with a great deal of enjoyment. Some 6-foot guy playing peek-a-boo with me is hardly going to have my knees trembling.

As soon as the men have moved out of sight, I slide down against the door, sitting on the floor and crossing my legs.

“Hello, Athena. I know it’s been a long time since we talked. Your father thought maybe you’d feel comfortable talking to me, and as much as I’d love it if you did, there’s no pressure to do so. You don’t even have to open the door,” I assure her, leaning my head back against the reinforced barrier keeping us apart.

I continue to keep an ear out to listen for movement coming from the other side to gauge if she’s receptive or not, but so far I hear no movement coming from inside. But that could be from all the extra security her father has put into her room. It seems that in attempting to keep her safe he’s unintentionally turned her bedroom into a cell, and it’s not certain if it’s designed to keep people out or to keep her in.

“Your father wants so badly to protect you, but we both know it’s a bit late for that. He thinks he can shield you from further pain, but your own mind will ensure that never happens, so I’m going to be honest with you. I will always be honest with you, and if it is too much, all you have to do is tell me to shut up and I will, but I feel you have every right to be kept informed. I thought you’d like to know that I killed all the men responsible for hurting you,” I say bluntly, and even through the door, I swear I feel the air change.

I give her a moment to process the information before I continue, but as I let the time pass I can faintly hear movement from the other side of the door.

“Is that true?” I hear a soft voice say. It’s barely above a whisper, but I can still hear it. I smile, feeling relieved to hear her voice. This is such a good step!

“I promised to be honest with you, I would never lie about this, Athena. I tracked them down and one by one I gave them a slow and painful death for what they did to you. I know that won’t erase your fear and it won’t stop the nightmares, but I can promise those men will never hurt you again. I’ve made sure of that,” I reassure her.

The minutes tick by before I hear her meek voice speak again, but hearing it is such a welcome sound.

“They’ll retaliate,” she says with a trembling voice.

“If they have a death wish, certainly, but I left a loud message that tells them what will happen if they try. Athena, I will not let anyone hurt you ever again, but even I know I can’t promise that with a hundred per cent guarantee. The truth is, you can’t rely on me or all these brutes your father hires. The only person who you can rely on is yourself.”

“I’m not strong like you,” she says in a disparaging whisper.

“I wasn’t born like this. My mother and my father taught me to be strong, and I’m sorry that in your parent’s attempts to protect you, they left you defenceless, but if you let me, I can teach you how to be strong. I can teach you to make sure no one ever touches you again, but that choice is yours,” I say encouragingly.

I love Dimitris like family, but he should have at the very least been teaching Athena self-defence since she was a child. At least then she might have stood a better chance at fending off her attackers. He left her vulnerable because he wanted to protect her innocence, but now where has her innocence gone? She can never get back what was stolen from her, but I can try damn hard to give her the tools to rebuild herself into the kind of woman she wants to be. This doesn’t have to be where her story ends, but it has to be her choice. She needs to know she still has that freedom.

Seconds tick by when I hear the sound of rustling on the other side of the door, followed by the clicking of the door’s latch. The door creaks open slightly, and I rise to my feet. I tentatively peek my head in, moving slowly and unthreateningly so as to not frighten her. As I step into the room I’m stunned, but not entirely surprised by the state of the room. Clothes ripped to shreds and scattered about, photographed portraits smashed and left in shattered heaps on surfaces and the fluffy white carpet covering the floor. Not only are the bi-fold curtains closed, but a sheet has been placed across them to ensure no sliver of light enters this room.

As I take in the decrepit state of the room, my eyes fall on the frail figure huddled up in the middle of the bed, her covers surrounding her like a cocoon of protection. Her clothes hang from her body and even in the dark, I can see the still healing bruises and cuts on her face that appear only more noticeable due to her gaunt appearance. Her mousey-blonde hair looks greasy and knotted, around her eyes look worn and sunken but her eyes themselves… The light shining from the doorway gives me a glimpse into her eyes and it makes my blood run cold.

I’ve looked into the eyes of people as they took their last breath. I’ve seen the eyes of the dead. I’ve even seen the eyes of pure evil. But these eyes… their normal glimmering shade of topaz appear vacant while holding memories of horrors many couldn’t even begin to imagine. It’s almost as if I can see those horrors replaying themselves in her eyes, sharing their terror with any who dare to look. Reminds me of the tale of Medusa. A beautiful woman; raped by Poseidon and punished by Athena. Well, I suppose that depends on the version you prefer. Funny that this beautiful soul whose eyes that once held such joy and are now filled with nightmares to haunt any who look upon her, would share her name with the Goddess who once created such a creature. Makes you wonder how much truth was behind the myth.

“Please close the door,” she whispers, and I follow her instructions.

“May I sit?” I ask, gesturing to the bed, and observe her meek nod.

I step over and sit on the edge of the queen-sized bed while doing my best to maintain distance for Athena’s sake.

“You can’t help me,” she says, holding her knees to her chest.

“Maybe not, but no one says you can’t help yourself.”

Carefully I unclasp the necklace from around my neck with a single black diamond pendant, “You know, in ancient Greece, they believed that black diamonds were the tears of the Gods,” I say as I hold the pendant out to her, “I want you to take this.”

She frowns in confusion, “Why are you giving me jewellery?”

“Because it’s not jewellery. Carefully hidden inside is a cyanide capsule. Attackers are usually so busy attacking or going for the clothes they pay no attention to the jewellery. Your father will hate me for this, but I don’t care. I’m giving you your last line of defence. Should you ever be in a life-or-death situation, you have two options. Take this and shove it down the throat of any bastard who dares try to touch you or use it on yourself. If you decided there’s no way out and you refuse to be someone’s victim again, then spare yourself the pain,” I say as I place the pendant at her feet.

She looks at it with deep curiosity, cautiously reaching out and picking it up between her fingers.

“What would stop me from using it now?” She softly asks.

I shrug, “That’s your choice.”

She looks at me with wide eyes, “Father and Mother won’t even keep sharp objects in the room.”

I glance at the broken shards of mirror frames scattered about and make note of them in my mind.

“Athena, I don’t want to see you die. I want to see you get better. I want to see you thrive, fight back and show everyone that they didn’t win. They’re dead and you’re still alive, but everyone has their limit and I’m not callous enough to dictate what yours is or should be. If you wake up one morning and decide you can’t live like this a minute longer, then you shouldn’t have to. No one should. I respect your right to make that choice, but I don’t think you will,” I say with a gentle smile.

She gulps audibly, “What makes you say that?”

“Because you’re still here. You’re down and beaten but you’re still here. If you really wanted out, hiding a few sharp objects wouldn’t stop you. When you want death, you’ll get there any way you can, but here you sit. Sun comes up and sun goes down and you’re still here. I know it doesn’t feel like it, but that’s strength. That’s a fighter. Just making it to the next day is a victory. I’m in awe of your strength, Athena. Those men who hurt you didn’t even have half the strength you do, that’s why they’re dead and you’re still here,” I say confidently.

I watch as her topaz eyes fill with tears, and like a floodgate bursting open, she throws her arms around me and breaks into sobs that wrack her frail body. I carefully hold her close, stroking her unkempt hair, consoling her as she lets out all her pain and anger. Her hands fist into my shirt and I tighten my hold, hoping my arms can act like a shield as she unburdens herself on my shoulder.

I may be a trained killer, but I’m not heartless, and I will never be alright with the cruel treatment of good people. I suppose it runs in my blood. The women in my family became assassins originally to protect women who couldn’t protect themselves in a society that refused to help. The first was my Great, Great Grandmother Besina. She murdered her father in order to protect herself, her mother, and her brothers from his abuse, and managed to turn it into a flourishing family enterprise. Not saying all my kills are noble – far from it – but at least they have noble beginnings, if that’s any consolation.

“How about I brush some of those knots out of your hair?” I gently ask.

She sniffles and nods against my shoulder. As she slowly detaches herself from me, I get up and find her brush on her vanity and sit back down on the bed. I pat my lap and encourage her to lay her head there and she doesn’t hesitate. I smile down at her, pleased to see her relaxing around me. It’s wonderful progress since Dimitris said she won’t let anyone touch her.

As she lays her head on my lap and curls up in a ball, I begin brushing out the knots in her hair, starting at the bottom and working my way up so as to cause her the least amount of pain.

“Can you really teach me to be strong?” She quietly asks.

“I certainly can. It would take time, and you’d need to start eating again in order to get your strength up, but once that happens, absolutely. We will train as often as you want until you’re your own lethal weapon,” I say smiling down at her.

“Dad never wanted me to train,” she says, and I catch just a hint of resentment in her voice.

“A bad call on his part, but one that came from a good place. He loves you and raising you in this world he just… he hoped to keep the darkness of his world from ever reaching your light. He failed, and now you all have to live with that,” I say with a heavy heart.

“There’s no light left in me,” she says brokenly.

“I see a bit of it. I think there’s still hope,” I assure her as the brush begins to glide effortlessly through her hair.

“Will you stay a bit longer?” She nearly begs.

“Would be my honour,” I say warmly, pulling the covers over her as I place the brush down and run my fingers through her hair.

Before long, Athena drifts off to sleep, but I dare not move. For the first time in my life – excluding with family – my presence is bringing someone peace and protection. I’ve been raised in a world of killers and trained to be one. Taught to be even more ruthless than those around me to ensure no one would ever dare harm me, and yet here I am, sitting guard as my old friend sleeps, acting as her avenging angel just hoping for a few hours I can keep the nightmares at bay. Maybe if I can, she can finally start to heal.