Shades of Love and Revenge

PROLOGUE The enemy of my enemy is my friend To any man who will bring me his head Will I make an ally and be-friend, As I sit and count the odds of my revenge, I will leave him a bone in his flesh won’t forget.   Vicente Santiago the Baron of the most dreaded cartel in all Northern America ordered the assassination of Lucas Noah and Oliver James on the fifth birthday of Noah’s only son and also set out another other to clean up everyone involved in the January Seven, 2002 incident. But he made a mistake: me.   CHAPTER ONE Laura Arthur was indeed radiating an extraordinary level of elegance and confidence that night as she swindled her way towards the kitchen door carrying a white tray-bearing coffee kettle made from fragile but expensive ceramics taking the shape of a peacock. If you were a cinematographer picking her stance, you would safely assume she is contesting for miss word as she places her legs after another. She was cat-walking from the well-furnished kitchen towards the dining with her long hair trailing her paths from the back, rocking against her butts as her waist dangles in the air while her hips twist as though she was in for a pageantry show. Laura Arthur was a definition of beauty this night. Arrayed in a strapless fine-lined white gown that flair only in the right places she made for the dining room, which was separated by just an entrance that was designed by a veil made of white-colored beads stripped in golden yellow. The closer she got to the dining entrance, the louder the chit chats and laughter from the dining got. She weaved her legs perfectly, with one chasing the other on the journey to the front; a perfect catwalk for a miss world contest. Further, on her path, while wearing a glamorous excited look, maybe with a few thoughts in her head to chip into the chit-chat when she finally arrives at the dining room entrance. She pulled the bead linings that veiled the door to the side with a dangle of her head while she makes her way out of the dining into the white-painted and furnished luxurious dining room of the just retired Director of the Texas City Police department only to be greeted by a loud bang and the laughter and chatting ceased. Only the clanging of used bullets that collided against the tiled floor to the credit of gravity was audible to anyone within the next few meters. Everything was happening so fast, yet so slowly. ***Less than a minute ago*** A strange man dressed in a mask had surfaced in the room, he emerged from the shadows so fast and was aiming for a shot when the just-retired police officer quickly took his gun from his side and shot but he was too late and inaccurate for the popular 2-shot. The first shot from the silenced pistol of the masked man got him, first on the arm forcing him to drop his gun while the second bullet pierced his forehead. Laura had gone to retrieve a kettle of coffee with a few cups from the kitchen to complement the already-filled table about a minute ago. “I will be right back dad,” she said as she left her seat and placed a hurried kiss on his cheek while she rushed towards the kitchen, minding her very high heels too. As she flung her head to the side to get past the veil that separated the dining from the kitchen, a shocking sound and a horrible sight greeted her. The tray in her hands dropped fast to the ground. The clanging of the ceramic jog and plastic tray replaced the air, sending sharp notes of sound through space in a split of seconds. 2-shot the masked intruder had turned to the side to take his signatory first shot aimed at disarming his victims then his killer shot as he calls it took the first shot and as usual met her in her right arm as she dropped to the ground and he moved his fingers for the second shot he suddenly stopped and held his head in pain. Laura, a young adult in her mid-twenties who was just carrying a tray elegantly dropped to the ground with blood gushing out of her right arm turning the white flair gown into a dark red ball gown like those that arouse the wolverines in a full moon. Whatever it was that was happening to 2-shots has cost him his concentration as he groans while bowing to one knee with his gun still in his hands. Deep within his head were flashes of memories of his childhood. The pictures of a young boy and a young girl standing in front of a cheering crowd with a gigantic cake in their front, also faint images of the male child laying on the female child with blood dripping from his head and scattered wreckages scattered all around, alongside the image of the duo playing with sand amongst other kids. The masked man groaned in pain as he still held on to his head with his face bowed. The mumbling from his wire system brought him back to the awareness of his environment. “Hey 2-shots, the cops are on their way. Move your f*****g ass,” the female voice sounded through the wires he had on his ears that were sitting comfortably under the disguise of the mask he was wearing. . He recovered from his trauma and readjusted himself. Taking a second look at his environment, he could see Laura was losing blood quickly and her face fading into pale white coloration, a sign she was losing blood and she was losing it real quick. He had in the past taken out even whole families with no blinks, not even to the crying of the little children, because code red says today’s survival could be tomorrow’s nightmare. But he does not know what held him back while he had broken down in severe pain and agony a moment ago. He was about to run off through the back exit, which he had mastered from the ultra-ray scans that were used to map out the entry and exit routes for this operation. But on second thought, he stopped in his tracks briefly. He turned to the side where Laura was lying almost lifeless. He walked back to her, tore part of her clothes, and tied it just some inches up from the wounded spot to prevent more blood loss while he stared into her face so keenly. Emotions and feelings were seeming to be penetrating. Laura’s eyes were almost closed, but he could feel as though they were looking past his mask to his soul and asking him a constant why? He held Laura in his hands still as she grew weaker when his wires sounded the second time. “Two shots! You f*****g have to move right now,” the voice sounded again from the wired system. “The cops are at the gate already,” the voice said and went dead. He finished tying the spot and ran to check through the window. Cops were running out of their vehicles and attempting to enter the compound. He hurried back, took the back exit and jumped the fence into the next compound and off through another fence into the main road a few blocks away from the crime scene. He ran down to a waiting Range-Rover-Sport all tinted, with fake plate numbers and opened the front door beside the driver’s seat. He looked backward and to the sides to ensure no one was watching or recording before stepping into the car. He was in a hurry to enter but the waiting driver did not seem to be in the same level of urgency as the car didn’t come to life until an ambulance that was approaching from the rear drove past. “What the f**k were you still doing in there? Blood? Are you wounded?” the lady in the car dressed in a black leather top and pants with iPad in her hands and wires plugged in Seeing he wasn’t going to respond, she ignited the car and rolled into the road, first driving without the headlights, then lighting them up a few blocks from their take-off point. A few moments ago Outside a gigantic building, a few guards were parading left to right encircling the compound in turns while brandishing their guns to scare off any posing threat. But while this exercise was on, someone seemed to have studied the routine and had masterminded a hack for it. The invader skipped the fence and landed behind the guard, mounting the west corner of the bungalow. With just an easy twist of the head, the guard was lifeless. He pulled him to the flower railing around the house. He moved round towards the other extreme of the back and took out the guard He then made his way towards the front through the side of the well-built and furnished house. While he was whisking by the window, he could hear joyous laughter and chatter from the inside. He looked through the window. He saw two aged couples in their late fifties and a young girl who was backing his view. He spent no time contemplating. He whisked with quicker steps and threw a sharp knife to get rid of the guard that was farther to his side while he rushed the other before he could understand what was going on. He was on the ground, dead. The masked man manipulated the door lock with a set of wires and rolled the knob, then the door gave way gently, opened it so silently and studied the wide seating room, first tracing his looks to the angle where the chit chats and laughter are coming from. He squats and crawls behind the chairs to get to the wall that is left to the opening in the dining room. He rested his back against the wall and moved silently, one leg to the side first and he dragged the other to follow up with it. When he knew he was in position, he raised his head to look around the sitting room for yet another time. In his line of business, there was no room for a second chance. So mistakes were a luxury that couldn’t be afforded despite the high-paying nature of the job. He could see the portrait of the man dressed in a police uniform and another in the police ceremonial suite with lots of lanyards to suit. Gifts and presents were also in another corner of the room. Bearing several captions: “Happy Retirement”; “Thanks for being a Cop”; etc... He peeped at the family once more before coming out fully. He took the first shot and the second one. He repeated the same for the woman, who was screaming out of shock. Turning to the side, he saw the third member of the family that wasn’t there when he arrived. The one he saw from the window side while making his way through the flowers..