Lazarus silently crept upon his unsuspecting prey, dividing his attention between the man in front of him, and any others that may be concealed. He knew any assault on this man would have to be quick and efficient if there were others around. He hoped this was the last one he would have to incapacitate, as he was lingering too long in this location. Briana’s life, and his, was at stake, intertwined in some cosmic puzzle. She is a piece of his life, and he felt he could never finish without her.

He came within reach of his former clan brother and swift as the wind, grabbed him from behind and dropped him back first over his knee. The man’s back broke with an audible crack, leaving him unable to use his legs. As he began to cry out, Lazarus’ fist connected with his temple, hopefully lightly enough to knock him unconscious and not kill him. Lazarus left him where he lie and moved quickly, but silently, into the shadows.

Three, he thought. You had better have left more than three, Ci. You know it is going to take the whole clan to stop me. Even then, they will not keep me from reaching you. He thought about the men he had debilitated this evening. Lazarus recognized one of them as the son of a former mark. He was ten years old at the time and it was Lazarus’ first solo mission. Until that time, he had participated with multiple members of the clan, but never alone.

What was the boy’s name, again? Ryan Sullivan. That’s it. He won’t be able of any use to the clan now, but he will live. That’s all that matters to me, now. He had found the child asleep in his bed after Lazarus had killed his father. The boy was now an orphan, just like Lazarus, who felt sympathy for the boy. He cradled the boy to his chest as he left the house, and the boy woke only once. It was to ask where they were going, and then promptly fell back to sleep, as if he cared very little for the answer. That was ten years ago and Lazarus had been seventeen.

Upon returning to the clan’s base, Master Zhou commended him for his compassion and then severely beat him for being weak. That was the last time he showed any emotion to anyone, for anyone, and with anyone. The Brotherhood adopted the boy, and Master Zhou took it upon himself to see to his training. He soon became a formidable force, yet he could still never match Master Zhou’s greatest student, Xiong Shou, now called Lazarus. Ten years had passed and he suddenly realized the irony that he would meet with the child of his first mission trying to save the child from his last. He shook his head and continued his mission.

He glanced around as he came upon his objective. Please let there be no more, I tire of the fighting. As with the broken back of the third man, he had not killed, though they would no longer be of any use to the Brotherhood. It wouldn’t matter, as Lazarus intended to destroy the clan so it would never rise again. Never will another child wonder why their parents had to die by another’s hand.

A final glance around and then a quick sprint to the shadows of the building brought him to his objective. The last time he had been here was six years ago, and he knew tonight would be the last. Twenty-seven years previous, a pregnant woman and her husband went to a secluded cabin in the mountains on vacation and, unexpectedly, the woman went into labor, giving birth to a baby boy. The boy was never named. That night the couple was killed by an assassin. To make matters more complicated, the couple wasn’t even the right mark. The true objective was the man’s friend working for some foreign government.

The assassin took the infant and adopted him, trained him to be a murderer. He even gave the child a name, Xiong Shou. That assassin had been Lazarus’ Master, Zhou. Lazarus never understood why he had beaten him for bringing in Ryan, when he had done the very same thing. It didn’t matter now as Zhou was dead and Lazarus had a new name, a new life, and the girl who had become like a daughter to him to save.

Looking into a window of the cabin, there was a single light shining directly into the center of the room. A chair with a stuffed animal sat directly within the light. Further investigation revealed no one else about, he kicked the door in and walked up to the chair. He knew no traps would be on the chair, or even the bear, as Ci wanted him for himself. If the Brothers didn’t kill him, then it was on to the next round. This was Ci’s game, and for the sake of Briana, he was going to play.

The bear held an envelope in its cradled arms, which Lazarus retrieved without hesitation. As he opened it and gazed at what was inside, his jaw tightened. Turning the envelope over, he let the contents fall into his hand. He gazed upon a lock of brown hair with a pink barrette attached. He let out a roar, which would frighten any living beast, be they predator or prey.

“Coward. If she comes to harm, I will hunt you down and make you wish for death.”

Not far away, a figure vanished into the shadows, chuckling as it went.

Marcus woke to see a man smiling down upon him. The face looked friendly enough, but after his near death, he was less than certain who was friend or foe. The men who beat him had looked friendly enough before hand. Chastising himself for being so unforgiving (he was a priest after all), he smiled back.

“How are you feeling?” the man asked.

“I have felt better, but I’ve never had anything to compare to until now.” Marcus whispered back. He still didn’t have his voice back, as one of the assailants had chocked him and nearly crushed his windpipe. “How can I help you?”

“How do you know I want something from you? You just woke after all. Maybe I just don’t want to disturb you?”

“Let’s cut through the junk, okay. You have the look of a reporter or a police detective. Again, what do you want?”

“A reporter? Man! I should be insulted. Fine, we’ll do it your way. My name is Detective Thomas Decker.” He showed his badge to Marcus, leaving it there long enough for him to see that the badge was real. “I have some questions I think you might have some answers too.”

“What questions would those be, Detective?”

“First, why was a man fitting the description of an individual seen in a fight at a park nearly seven miles from your church observed an hour later at your side? Subsequently, an individual was killed in that fight. Second, where can I find this man?”

“Do you think this man is the one who killed the man at the park?”

“No. A witness said another man did it. Your friend was fighting. Your friend knows this individual and I have questions for him. So, let me ask you the questions again. Who is he and where can I find him?”

Marcus knew there was not a lot he could do for his friend but pray. Too many questions and they would find out who he is. God, protect this new servant of yours. Help him find Briana and bring them both home safe. Whatever he has done in the past, forgive him, and give me the words to say right now.

“Father, I know that you know who he is. You need to tell me.”

Marcus sighed and began to speak. Forgive me for my lies I now give, Lord, he thought as he began to answer Detective Decker’s questions.

March 2007

Chapter Two

Shadows and Allies

Briana felt the cold bite into her skin, yet she shook more from fear than the cold. She was unaware of her surroundings because of the blindfold her kidnappers forced her to wear, never removing it, even to eat. Someone fed her, yet whoever it was never spoke to her. They ignored her for the most part as she attempted to get them to converse, yet after each failed attempt, she felt more and more alone.

She reached out with her senses, just as Lazarus taught her, to gather information on where she was. She knew Lazarus would not stop looking for her, so she determined in her mind that quitting was not an option for her either. Nothing was going to stop her from returning to Lazarus. Father Marcus needed her too. The three of them had too much to do, so she had to fight. Help me mommy, she thought. Help Lazarus find me. Thank you for choosing him to be my guardian angel, so please help him find me.

A dripping sound came from somewhere behind her but she was unsure where exactly. It caused a sense of uneasiness within her, distracting her. Sounds seemed to come from everywhere at once, causing her mind to wander. Her mind began to create images of the things in the dark around her, frightening things that only the imagination could conjure, yet seemingly so real. Tears began to stream uncontrollably down her face, as sobs wracked her body, causing small convulsions and making it difficult for her to breathe. 

She heard something move across the room and was unable to tell how big it was but she was convinced it was very large. She sensed it coming towards her then pause, as if investigating this strange object invading its lair. Images of some horrific nightmare cascaded through her mind, causing her to experience fear she had never known before. Suddenly it was there next to her and the fear reached the breaking point. It touched her. She screamed.

Standing on the back upstairs balcony of Father Marcus’ home, Lazarus gazed out upon the Bay, unable to enjoy the breeze coming in from the water, bringing relief on an uncharacteristically warm day. He could feel something was not right but was unable to conclude as to what it was. There was an unease continuing to rise inside of him, steadily growing and bordering on anxiety. He was not prone to feeling fear, as very little frightened him, except losing Briana or Marcus. The thought of losing them brought fear so intense he would begin to shake. 

Suddenly the anxiety was replace with an overwhelming sense of dread. This caused him to shatter the glass of water he had been preparing to drink, leaving a small cut on his thumb. He didn’t feel the knick as he focused his mind to Briana, knowing she was the cause of his anxiety and dread. Hang in there Bri. I’m coming for you.

After his return from the cabin a week earlier, he visited Marcus in the hospital and found the priest’s prognosis was good. Relief had flooded through him knowing another life had survived the clan’s destructive hands. The two proceeded to discuss how to handle the potential problem of Detective Decker. Marcus told the story he had concocted about Lazarus and who he was, saying the big man was his nephew.

Lazarus gazed at the priest as he spoke, listening to everything, yet amazed at the man’s resilience after the attack by the clan. The old man had become the closest thing Lazarus had ever known to being a friend. He had shown the younger man what it meant to live life with love and integrity as well as honor and courage. He was more a father than Master Zhou could ever have been and it made him curious as to what his real father had been like. He had given Lazarus a spare room in his own house as he recovered. The man was truly Lazarus’ lifesaver.

After his visit with Marcus, Lazarus returned home to contemplate the meaning of the first clue, the bear he found in the cabin. He knew Ci’s game was for him to guess where to find Briana, but he was uncertain as to the exact meaning of the clue. It was only the first clue but he was anxious to get her back home. Ci would not harm the girl, not at the expense of the game, but it did not mean he was kind to her. Lazarus knew the kind of fear the Brotherhood placed on a child, sometimes for their amusement. In essence, the purpose of the fear is to control the mind of the child.

Upon his return, he showered and prepared something to eat. He had just sat down to begin eating when the doorbell rang. He sighed and went to answer the door, seeing a large silhouette of a man through the glass mosaic inset of the door. There was no need to open the door to know who was on the other side, but opened it anyway out of politeness.

The man Marcus’ described as Detective Decker stood before him. He was a nice looking man with blue eyes, tanned face, and a friendly smile. His smile was contagious and Lazarus might have smiled back if he was not preoccupied with other thoughts. Still the man exuded a safety and trust; causing Lazarus to believe this man was either a good fraud or a trustworthy cop.

His desire to trust this man surprised him, revealing to himself his inner transformation. It was unnerving but acceptable. He would need allies in the future, but now was the time to focus on bringing home Briana, not on future crusades. This man was incapable of assisting him with the clan. They would end his life so quickly, without remorse as this good man was only in the way; a hindrance to their ultimate game of cat and mouse. Lazarus decided he must protect this man from the clan at all costs.

Lazarus gave what information he could about the confrontation at the park, excluding large chunks of the story, making up most of it. He also proceeded to tell the story he and Marcus had concocted.  Four years ago, he was an agent for the British Secret Service and was on a mission to infiltrate a terrorist cell established in a camp in China. The Chinese government knew nothing of the cell, which was recruiting men from all over the world. He turned in enough evidence to capture the leaders and most of those involved.

The Service gave him a much-needed extended vacation so he could visit family. As the only family he had was his uncle, he chose to come to the states. Six months prior, the leader escaped from prison and began recruiting again. He found where Lazarus was and proceeded to try to exact his vengeance. It showed how inept he was to fail in killing his uncle. He found his vacation revoked and he was put on the case of recapturing the leader, named Tiaxong Ci. Decker and Lazarus argued over the finer points of jurisdiction before Decker left, unsatisfied to say the least.

Lazarus put himself more at risk with the exposure of lying, but the truth was the British Secret Service would deny his existence, saying no man in the service fit that description. This could work either to his advantage or against him. Either way he had to find Brianna, keeping Decker away from the real trouble. He was not sure if this would really work, but he had to try. He liked the man.

He had just finished sweeping up the broken glass when the doorbell rang again. He threw the glass away and went to answer the front door. He could see it was someone in a special delivery uniform, which caused him to approach the door cautiously. He could not be too careful, not with Ci and the clan out there. Some fool might try to finish him off before Ci’s game was finished. The man would die for ruining Ci’s game but at least he would be out of the way.

He opened the door and stood in the doorway. The young man before him stared in awe at the huge man before him. Without a word and mouth gaping open, he handed the package and signature form to Lazarus. Lazarus signed with a wicked grin on his face, just for the benefit of this gaping young man. The man all but ran back to his truck while glancing back to see if the huge man was following. Lazarus chuckled as he closed the door.

He ceased his mirth when he saw the package addressed to him. He ripped the package open and poured the contents out onto the dining room table. An ancient looking compass spun on the table, the needle trying to find its way north. Tied to it was a note: Always face north if you want to find the girl. Lazarus grew tired of the game but he needed to find Briana in order to finish it and to do that he needed to face north. 

“This game will end Ci, you can count on that and you will not like the result,” Lazarus growled as he stared at the compass. “I will finish you and the clan, ending your games forever.” No more children will get hurt. Good people will no longer fear the night while he was alive. The clan will end and he will continue to live on protecting those who need it, all the while hoping to redeem himself someday from the violence of the past.

April 2007

Chapter Three

Faith and Action

“I don’t know if I believe in your god, Marcus,” Lazarus said with exasperation.

“I’m not asking you to, son. I am just saying that your faith in your own abilities is not enough. You are going to have to believe in something bigger than yourself if you are ever going to get Briana back.”

“I have always finished what I started and I don’t need help from someone I can’t see. How do I even know he is real?” A frustration at his lack of success at finding Briana was starting to take its toll on his confidence. He was also afraid he would be unable to protect Marcus from further threat. The older man experienced dizziness regularly after receiving head trauma, though there was no permanent damage. It would take time to recover fully but until then he needed to stay in the wheelchair he now sits in.

“Damn it boy, this isn’t about you! This is not some theological debate about whether god is real or not. The bible says the evidence of him is all around us. That’s not my point.” The discussion turned argument had been late that evening and had progressed for an hour as they sat in the church’s staff lounge. It began after Lazarus, still dressed in his new black attire, complete with body armor, returned from a failed attempt at discovering the hiding place of the clan. His failures were slowly deteriorating his confidence in his abilities, but mostly it was destroying his hope.

“What is your point?” What came next was not the reaction he expected from his friend. The sixty two year old, faith-filled man of God laid into him with such passion, Lazarus could only stare at him with a dumbfound expression on his face. The priest wheeled his chair closer until he was nose to nose with the big man. His eyes shone with a fire that Lazarus had never seen before, causing no little amount of discomfort. He felt a compulsion to lean away from the man, yet he couldn’t, drawn like a moth to a flame

“My point is,” Marcus started with a growl. “You have relied upon your own devises for so long you haven’t had any reason to believe in anybody but yourself. Now you have a family.” He saw Lazarus’ body stiffen, causing him to continue more passionately. “That’s right, I said a family, and you better not forget it. That little girl needs you and she does not need your arrogance or your self-pity for not finding her.”

The statement about family hit home with such impact, the former assassin melted into the couch. Everything he felt surged up all at once, finding it difficult to suppress any longer. How can I have a family if I can’t even protect them? He thought. Tears began to fill his eyes, something uncommon in his life until he met this gracious priest and the amazing girl who forgave her parent’s murderer.

“I should have found her by now. I was able to find a mark without even expending effort, yet now I can’t even find a little girl. What if I’m too late? What if they hurt her?” He again felt the overwhelming fear of losing the little girl he had grown to love.

“That’s what I’m talking about son.” Marcus observed the sudden change in the younger man with compassion and decided to take a different tactic. He pulled away from Lazarus and his expression softened. “That beautiful child can’t afford for you to not believe in hope. She can’t afford for you not to believe in your love for her, or about hers for you. Believe in the relationship you have nurtured with her, and me.”

Tears came unbidden to the priest’s eyes as he continued. “You are like a son to me, Lazarus. I never had a son, though the days of my youth were filled with opportunities.” Both men chuckled at statement, knowing the urges of young men are overwhelming at times, causing situations to occur many are not emotionally or mentally ready to experience.

“You are like a father to me, Marcus and that adds to my fears. I don’t know how to protect those I love.  My past brings more potential of harm to you than you can possibly know.” He gazed at the priest with fear-filled eyes. “What if I lose the both of you?”

“Spare the self-pity. I have already experienced the dangers of your past. They don’t frighten me.” He moved towards the window overlooking the central courtyard of the church, which connected it to the school. “Briana will say the same thing when this is over.”

“They could kill you both. Don’t you understand that?”

“If it meant protecting you, I would die trying. Briana feels the same way.” Lazarus’ eyes focused on the back of the priest, his attention drawn by the words of the last statement.

“How do you know?”

“She told me. She said if the ‘bad guys’ ever come for you she would fight them off so you could get away. She believes God sent you to protect her.” He turned his head and looked at Lazarus. “Whether you like it or not, I agree with her.”

“How can she feel that way after what I have done to her life?” The large man continuously felt perplexed by the reaction Briana had to him, and on him. “She shouldn’t even be in this mess and she wouldn’t have been if I had not killed her parents.”

“That may be so son, but you would still be living the life of an assassin with no concept of a better life either. I think Briana understands this better than you do. Don’t give into your doubt because you don’t think you deserve it. We deserve many things we don’t receive in life, and we don’t get what we actually deserve either. I call those things ‘Grace’ and ‘Mercy’. Someday I’ll have to tell you the reason I became a priest in the first place.”

“I thought we already discussed that?”

“No, we just talked about someone who influenced me. I became a priest because I was not much different than you.” This statement confused the younger man and was about to ask for further explanations when the two heard a noise coming from outside the window. They moved to investigate, realizing they finally had a breakthrough in Lazarus’ quest.

Outside, halfway down the church side of the courtyard, a large monument of St. Francis of Assisi seemed to come to life. A life size statue of St. Francis pouring water into a water basin for birds stood within a large alcove wall. Made of white marble, it was heavy and seemed impossible to budge, yet the statue moved away from the alcove with moderate noise and revealed a dark passage. Lazarus’ moved Marcus so they could watch unobserved what mystery was occurring before them. Immediately, two men dressed all in black emerged from the dark passage and moved quickly into the night.

“All these years and I had no clue that was even there,” Marcus said with a surprised look on his face. He shifted in his wheelchair to look at the clock and saw the time was nearly 11:34. It was time when most everyone would be in bed and Lazarus would be out looking for clues on Briana’s whereabouts, if not helping someone in trouble. He turned his gaze towards the large man who was looking at him with an intense look in his eyes.

“Looks like you won’t have to go searching anymore and unfortunately they have been sitting right under our noses this whole time.” Watching his young friend, he saw a fire begin to smolder within the eyes of the former assassin. “Don’t do anything hasty son. First make a plan on your next course of action.”

“I already have one,” Lazarus said as he glared at the statue. Marcus waited for him to continue, but when he stayed silent, the older man could wait no longer.

“So what’s the plan?”

“Tonight I hunt two night birds.” His eyes glowed with such intensity; they seemed to reflect off the window. He continued to stare at the statue, silently seething. Marcus couldn’t handle it anymore, as he wanted to know the plan.

“Then what?”

“I finish this.” The answer came in a menacing whisper.

May 2007

Chapter Four

Beginning of the End

 Lazarus dragged the unconscious form of a clan brother down the steps by his foot. The chances of the man waking were slim as his head bounced off each step during the descent of the dark stone stairwell. He had no desire to see the man dead, just out of the way, so he stopped to pick him up and placed him over his shoulder. Lazarus could tell this was a rookie; one of Ci’s new Brotherhood. The fool couldn’t even defend himself against the simplest of attacks, falling easily. Ci must be getting desperate. 

He found the clansmen who exited the alcove, knocking the one over his shoulder unconscious and forcing the other to flee, and proceeded followed after. The plan was for Marcus to wait for the fleeing man’s return and observe how they reentered the tunnel. Now Lazarus was within feet of finishing his confrontation with the man who was responsible for the fear his family now lived with. Soon it will end. 

A few more minutes passed and he came to the end of the stairwell, standing at the beginning of a long tunnel. Why would someone build this place and keep it a secret? Deciding to contemplate the answer to that later, he advanced down the tunnel. Torches in iron sconces burned every twenty feet for what looked like an eternity. He traveled cautiously for some minutes before he heard voices coming from a short distance ahead. 

He placed the clansman he carried down but held onto his collar, dragging him. As he continued forward, he heard one of the voices raised in anger and another respond with fear, all coming from a door on his right. He approached the door, pausing to hear some of what exchanged between the individuals in the room. He hoped to find some clue as to whether Briana was in the room or not, as well how many enemies he would have to fight in order to reach her. This was all for nothing if she was hurt in the process of saving her. 

“I already told you Ci. He beat the hell outta Marshall and woulda done the same to me if I hadna split.” 

Lazarus looked down at the unconscious man in his grasp and shook his head. I’m glad I didn’t kill you Marshall. I hope you learn from this experience and change your life. I hope you have people who will bring the best out of you. Still, though I have nothing against you personally, I need you for one more thing. He then proceeded to throw the unconscious man through the door. It exploded, sending shards of wood in every direction. 

Four faces stared dumbfounded at the crumpled form of the man who had traveled through the door. All eyes shifted to the door, backing away as a giant in black form fitting armor from head to toe entered the room. Death had entered the room. None paid attention to the blindfolded little girl in the corner tied to a chair. Briana sat quietly, waiting for whatever came next. 

“Uh Ci?” This came from the man on the left. “I guess you were right. He did follow me.” Ci gave him a look that was supposed to frighten, but with the presence of Lazarus in the room, it didn’t have the desired affect. “Hey man, I said you were right. What else you want. And what are we gonna do about him.” 

Before Ci could open his mouth, Lazarus answered for him. “You men can leave. If your friend still lives take him to a doctor. If you stand against me, you will die. I give you this one chance to live. Make your choice.” 

“Get him you fools.” Ci screamed. The men looked back and forth between the man they followed and the man who promised death. The man Lazarus followed stared into the big man’s eyes and saw death there…yet he was serious about letting them go. Looking at the man who had hired them, he saw fear and desperation, bringing him to the conclusion the situation was beyond his comprehension. He looked back at the man who looked like the angel of death and he quickly made up his mind. 

“Oh, hell no! Ci, he’s all yours. I’m outta here.” He turned to the two others in the room and pointed at one of them. “Simon, help me with Marshall. Trevor, you comin’?” One nodded and the other moved to help lift the unconscious man as all four moved slowly around the giant, never taking their eyes from him, leaving Ci to himself. 

“When I find you, you are all dead for betraying me,” Ci screamed as they retreated through the door. 

“You ain’t gonna live long enough. So long dead man.”  

The last statement pushed Ci over the edge and an inhuman sound exited his throat, causing Lazarus to take a step back. He suddenly realized Ci was losing his mind. Something happened to the man who was the leader of the greatest assassin network in the world. What could have brought the man to this edge? 

“What has happened to you, Ci?” 

“Don’t pretend to care about me, Xiong Shou. You never did before, why start now.” 

A sudden epiphany surged to the front of Lazarus’ mind. “This was never about me leaving the Brotherhood, was it? This is about my skills never being matched against yours for the leadership of the clan.” Lazarus shook his head. “I never wanted to lead the clan, Ci. You know that.” 

“You wouldn’t take the challenge for leadership.” Rage burned in the other’s eyes as he spoke. “All the clansmen respected you. Even your decision to deny the challenge brought awe in their words for you. They said you were too good for the leadership of the Clan. Too good! They thought you left the leadership to me. I could not let that disrespect go unchallenged.” 

“I ordered your death, and they still worshiped you. They begged to be the ones who did it because they felt all the others were unworthy. You were their teacher and they wanted the honor of dying by your hands. They knew they were going to die someday, and they wanted it to be by your hand.”

“This is all out of petty jealousy?” Lazarus asked quietly. “You had the leadership of the Clan, Ci.” 

“Yes!” Screamed the response. “But I did not have their respect. Without that, they would one day challenge my right to lead. You would have had the leadership until you died of old age, just like Master Zhou. You were always too much like him.” He moved over to Briana, who had remained quiet throughout the whole ordeal. “Now I take the one thing you cherish most in this world.” Pulling a knife, he placed it against her throat. “That is, unless you accept my challenge for the leadership of the Clan.” 

“You have the leadership,” roared the giant. Ci just smiled and pressed the knife closer to Briana’s throat. “You hurt her, Ci, I will kill you. As it is, I know this isn’t over until I accept. So, where do we meet to finish this?” 

Ci moved the knife away from Briana’s throat, cut the bonds holding her and removed the blindfold. She blinked and squinted against the light invading her retinas. It had been nearly four weeks since the last time someone removed the blindfold. After she was free, he returned the blade to its former place against her throat and moved towards the door.  

“I could kill you now, Ci.” 

What? And take the chance of little Briana’s life being ended? I don’t think so. Move away from the door.” Lazarus moved, always staying opposite his opponent. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Ci’s back was to the door. Once again he removed the knife, and exited the room, leaving the two left to stare at each other in relief. “Meet me at the end of Pier 39…alone.” Ci’s voice echoed down the tunnel. “8:00 tomorrow night. Then we finish this.” 

Lazarus gazed at the girl before him, unable to speak. She squinted at him, unable to see him clearly, yet knowing he was there. She looked ragged, pale and worn thin with dark circles under her eyes. She ran to him as he knelt, tears beginning to form in her eyes. They held each other for some time before either spoke. As he placed her at arms length, they began to speak at the same time. 

“I’m glad you’re alright,” he said. 

“I knew you would come for me,” she cried. 

They both laughed and hugged each other again. He stood with her in his arms, moving cautiously towards the door. After passing through the door he looked at the long tunnel in either direction and sighed. It’s not over yet, but he had Briana safely in his arms. She was snuggling into his chest and already falling asleep. He gazed at the top of her head and felt peace, though it would only last for a time, it was a good feeling.

“Let’s go home. I’ll worry about the rest tomorrow.”

June 2007

Chapter 5

Hell Breaks Loose

Pier 39 was full of activity as a well-liked local band advertised an intimate, unplugged concert scheduled for that evening. The concert hadn’t started, but nearly four hundred people waited, and none could miss the stranger in black walking amongst them with determination towards the end of the pier. The individual was tall and obviously well muscled as any could see from the tight fitting costume he wore. None could see his face as he wore a type of ninja-like headgear covered most of is head, though the top remained exposed, revealing jet-black hair cropped stylishly short. There seemed to be some kind of additional protection over his mouth and nose, for what reason, no one could begin to guess. 

The suit itself was unlike anything any of those present had ever seen, looking like a one-piece black jumpsuit with body armor. Upon close observation of the suit, they would have seen a new technological breakthrough and marveled at the functionality and safety of the uniform. The whole thing was made of a light breathable material that did not restrict the wearer’s movements but was strong, like ancient chain mail. It protected well from the slash of sharp weapons effectively, though it was far from indestructible from blade thrusts. It was masterpiece of technological genius. 

The strange costume’s protective functionality did not end there, as it also possessed an odd solid substance, separately covering the pectoral and abdomen muscles. The material also covered the shoulder blades and spine, leaving the sides exposed. Additional pieces of the material connected both front and back protection plates with a style of shoulder guard. Black gauntlets, belt and greaves completed the costume, creating the perspective it was some type of modern, Hoplite armor. None could begin to comprehend the stranger’s intention and presence, though they would have cheered had they known. 

Walking among the crowd, Lazarus was entirely aware the gawking as people tried to grasp his presence and purpose in their midst. He cared little about what any might think, though he understood he was an oddity invading their safe and functional world. His intention was not to be the evening’s entertainment, but to protect them from the twisted mind of a man who would prefer to see them dead. As he continued towards his destination, they parted before him, a sea of stares traveling in his wake, baffled and thinking, ‘Another one loose on the streets tonight.’  

He knew this reaction was a possibility if he traveled openly, but he was confident he could blend in within a city known for strange sights and secrets. Besides, there was no one capable of stopping Ci and he no intention of meeting the man unprepared and unprotected. He passed through the last of the throng of concertgoers, continuing towards his destination at the end of the pier, followed by some of the curious.  

He found the man he was looking for staring out at Alcatraz Island, seemingly deep in thought, allowing Lazarus stop and gaze uninterrupted at his adversary. Ci was lean, though he was deceptively strong and above average height, lacking only a couple of inches in height compared to Lazarus. He wore a white gi over black trousers, allowing for unhindered movement and full mobility for combat. To complete his simple attire, he carried his prized weapon, a sword given to him by Master Zhou, beautifully crafted with an ivory handle carved into the likeness of a tiger. 

As the large man intently scrutinized his opponent, he thought of the history between them, the unmentioned dislike and the rivalry that was encouraged by Master Zhou. He disliked the man immensely, but he respected the man’s skill and abilities to fight and defeat his foes, even overcoming vastly more skilled enemies. To Lazarus, Ci was as great a warrior as any he had ever known, though jealousy and madness now clouded the man’s mind, causing him to become unpredictable. Lazarus’ intense gaze enveloped his adversary, all the while preparing his mind to improvise and counter any move Ci made. 

Ci slowly turned towards his nemesis, motioning Lazarus to approach, having felt the larger man’s presence for some time. Both brashly appraised the other, intent on finding some weakness within, hoping to exploit it into victory. They were content with the revelation that none was obvious, quite confident one of them would eventually overextend, ending the conflict. Ci smiled disarmingly and bowed to his opponent, abruptly concluding the staring contest, though it had no effect on the intensity of the situation. 

“I hope you have finished your assessment of me for what is to come? You know it will not be easy.” 

“I am uncertain what this night will bring, but no matter what else occurs, Ci, this night we will definitely finish.” 

“Yes, tonight will be the end,” Ci whispered. His eyes shifted to take in the new attire of his opponent, interest sparkling in them as he nodded appreciatively. “It looks as if you have come prepared with protection, yet I do not see your weapon of choice. Don’t tell me you came to this battle with only your hands and feet, dangerous though they are.” 

Lazarus pulled two small bars from hiding places somewhere on his gauntlets, each about eight inches in length, and extended his hands to the side. Snapping his wrist, the bars extended, becoming three-foot long unyielding metal batons, each extension locking in place. A malicious smile of joy spread across Ci’s face, reaching from ear to ear, showing his apparent excitement at the violence soon to erupt. He shifted his body in preparation of the fight to come, planting his feet and bringing his sword to the ready, nodding to Lazarus he was ready to begin. 

“Before we begin Ci, I want you to know one thing,” Lazarus said without raising his weapons. 

“What would that be my dear brother?” So much contempt lie underneath the final word, it sounded as if it was wretched from the man’s body. Lazarus sighed before he continued. 

“I have every reason in the world to kill you.” Ci acknowledged the statement with a smile and a bow, returning to battle readiness. “You kidnapped and frightened someone I love deeply and nearly killed another who has become a father to me. If I let you live, I risk the probability of you continuing to hide in the shadows, constantly creating fear within the family I have now. You need to be destroyed.” 

“As you know, the traditions that govern the clan validate any decision I make, whether it be to end your life, or let you live.” A barely perceived nod was the only sign the other man gave to indicate he was even listening to what Lazarus said. Without relaxing his fighting stance, he was obviously waiting for the other man to finish so the battle could begin. Lazarus eyes bore into Ci with such intensity, the latter blinked in astonishment, amazed at the conviction of the large man’s next and final statement. 

“I choose to let you live. If you force me to kill you, it will be upon your head, not mine. Do not mistake this for weakness, for I intend to punish you fiercely for what you have done to my family. You might even wish for death, but it will not come to you by my hand. No matter what you may think, tonight it ends.” 

Lazarus prepared himself, adjusting his body and feet to meet the onslaught that was sure to come. Ci’s unpredictability emerged once again as the man chuckled and spoke, still not changing the positioning of his body. “Well said,” were the final words as the two men faced each other, about to begin the final confrontation of the two greatest assassins in the world. Lazarus was an apparent changed man, even to himself, feeling the need to care about others so he would have something to fight for, and someway to redeem himself. Ci felt nothing except the ecstasy of the confrontation, the purpose to prove he was beyond doubt worthy of the leadership of the clan.

The two men cautiously approached, slowly drawing closer, each unwilling to be the first to engage the other. Upon closing the distance sufficiently, the two began to take timid swings, gauging the quality of the other. The striking of metal was loud enough to bring more spectators to see what was occurring at the end of the pier. So focused on each other, the two combatants were unconscious of the reality that the crowd continued to grow…and grow quite large.

The two men lightly sparred with each other, trying to force the other to grow tired of it and begin the battle, maybe overextending in the process. At last, Ci’s patience ended and he flew at his opponent, beginning an all out attack Lazarus barely deflected, forcing him on the defensive. It had begun and Lazarus felt he could finally unleash his fury on the man who was the cause of so much pain the last few weeks. Dark Angel stepped up, and all hell broke loose.

July 2007

Chapter 6

All Things Concluded? 

Detective Thomas Decker raced through the streets of San Francisco, siren blaring, trying to focus on his vehicular skills as well as contemplate what he had seen on his television only moments earlier. It would be an image etched into his mind for as long as he lived and possibly haunt him in death as well. It wasn’t as if the scene was horrific, though the potential conclusion to the violence was extreme. It was that two large men should not move with the speed, dexterity, and precision the two combatants possessed. It was like watching a deadly dance, one in which only a single individual would walk away alive. 

This was his reasoning behind why he practically flew though the streets to reach his destination—it was no irony these two warriors would bring to a close their fight in the same park where it had begun just weeks before. It became obvious this fight would not conclude like some local tournament with a trophy given to the victorious. It looked like a final battle—like Armageddon—between good and evil—where two champions fought for the fate of all humanity. A war of attrition, so to speak, and these two men were the grand warriors of each side, the winner taking all. 

He recognized the immense form of Lazarus, and thought about what he knew of the man. He was the only witness to a murder and a so-called English secret agent determined to find the terrorist who escaped prison and threatened his family. He was a so-called agent because Decker could not find any evidence Lazarus even existed. The man was a complete enigma, without a past, without an identity, and lastly without any proof he was who he said he was. Decker was having a difficult time finding anything on the man, as if he just appeared one day out the fog that was notorious for forming in the bay. 

In Decker’s mind, a lack of history did nothing from deterring him from the feeling he could trust the large man. There was something in the way they talked the first time that told Decker that even through lies he could trust Lazarus. If he lied, it would have been for the protection of those who could not defend themselves against some greater threat. Decker suddenly realized Lazarus was protecting him from his adversary, and from what he saw on the television, he was actually thankful the man did. He was sure the large man was hiding something else and he was determined to find out whatever it was this very night. 

As he approached his destination, he observed television crews and reporters causing such pandemonium, his fellow officers were struggling to keep some semblance of order. He parked his car and stared at the commotion surrounding him, shaking his head in disbelief. He slowly exited his vehicle and searched for someone who might help him accurately assess the situation. He saw one of his fellow detectives, Matthew Richter, and approached, gaining his attention the closer he came.

“Tell me what is going on here, Matt,” he said, shaking the man’s hand. His fellow detective shook his head, rolled his eyes and made a noise that sounded like a grunt.

“You wouldn’t believe it if I told you, Thomas. I’m not even sure I believe what is going on.” 

“Okay, just give it to me straight.” 

“About three hours ago, a fight broke out on Pier 39. A concert was taking place at the time so a large crowd was present. Conveniently enough, a camera crew for one of the local news channels was on hand to give a special report on the concert. Instead of reporting on the concert, they gave exclusive live footage of a fight between two large men.” It suddenly became clear to Matt that Thomas knew little of the situation. ”Where have you been? This thing has been all over the news.” 

“I was coming back from seeing my daughters in San Jose. Little Maggie’s 4^th birthday was yesterday and I decided to stay over night. I prefer to listen to CD’s instead of the radio when I’m on the road.” He shrugged off his ignorance of the situation in apology. “Sorry Matt, I got home, took a shower and turned on the TV. That was when I saw the report and got the phone call to report. So give me the rest, please.”

Matt shook his head as he continued. “Well, off and on for the last three hours there have been reports of these two guys all over the city. A few were real, while most were from people hearing noises and making assumptions that they were fighting somewhere close by. The ones that were legitimate became difficult to follow up on as these guys were nowhere in the vicinity when our guys showed up. It was like they just disappeared.” 

“The whole city’s on alert for these two guys, Thomas.” Matt shook his head and smiled. “The big boys want this thing over before the city goes into a panic, but the whole things kinda weird.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Twice there were reports that the one with his face covered saved the life of an innocent bystander who got too close to the fight. Both times the other guy tried to kill them and the one with the body armor was able to save them. It’s like the one is trying to protect people from this other guy. Almost like a comic book hero.” 

Thomas shook his head, putting his hand on the shoulder of his fellow officer. He smiled a disarming smile and began to speak. “Maybe that is what he is Matt. San Francisco’s Super hero.” 

“Make fun all you want Thomas. Someone heard the name ‘Dark Angel’ and that’s the name that’s stuck.” Decker eyebrows shot up and he blinked a few times, unable to believe what he was hearing. 

“Where are they now?” 

“Somewhere in the park. Nobody has heard anything in some time. Some of our guys are in there looking for them now.” He paused for a time before he turned towards Thomas. “You were in San Jose, so you weren’t expected to work tonight. Why are you here?” 

“I think the guy who is trying to hurt people may be responsible for the murder in the park here a few weeks ago. You know the one that happened in broad daylight. What I saw on TV, the guy fits descriptions of one of the men there.” 

“So what are you going to do?” 

“I’m going in and try to find those two.” 

Matt shook his head and groaned. “You be careful. Those guys could probably finish us off one by one, and we have amazing officers on our force.” 

“I will. Thanks.” Thomas Decker drew his pistol and moved beyond the boundaries of the park. He listened intently for any hint as to where the two opponents might be. Slowly he made his way toward the area where the whole mystery and case began, the place where the innocent man died. As he proceeded to his destination, he heard sounds coming from somewhere close by, the sounds of men struggling. He raised his gun, turning off the safety with a flick of his finger, preparing for anything that may arise. 

He entered a clearing and saw the two men he was hunting, fighting as if the fate of the world rested on their shoulders. Three uniformed officers lay nearby, all unconscious and of no use to him. Looking back at the titanic struggle before him, he once again marveled at the speed and graciousness of these two men. He stared in awe and wonder, frozen in place, lowering his gun to watch the majestic dance of death before him. 

Suddenly the one with the mask stumbled, loosing his weapons, while the other attacked; sword raised and prepared to finish the contest. Both men were tired and the long struggle was beginning to take its toll. The next moment the masked individual rose with such speed, his fist met the man’s nose. The man stumbled and fell to his knees, attempted to rise to his feet and found the fists of the larger warrior beginning to rain continuous blows to his face. Their exhaustion was apparent until now as a fresh energy of strength surged through the ‘Dark Angel’ and repeatedly struck his opponent, clearly trying to get the other to submit. He hit him continuously until the man went limp, and his face was unrecognizable. 

Finally, Decker was able to move, raised his gun and shouted, getting the attention of Dark Angel. The large fighter stood, raised his hands and backed towards some trees behind him. Decker marveled at how quickly it ended, only to notice both men carried cuts, slashed, and bled from a number of places. It was over quickly by what he witnessed but he remembered these two men had been fighting for three hours. Incredible, he thought.  

“Hold it right there. It’s over.” 

“You’re right detective, it is over.” The armored man spoke in a strange voice, as if it was his yet enhanced somehow, speaking through ragged breathes of fatigue. He pointed his hand at his opponent and spoke. “That is the man you want for the murder which occurred a few weeks ago. He will no longer hurt anyone else, but you may want to hurry and take him to a hospital before he expires prematurely.” 

Decker turned his attention towards the man on the ground, taking his eyes off the man standing by the trees. Seeing the man was not going anywhere, he turned his attention back towards the first individual. He blinked in surprise as the man was no longer standing there, having disappeared somehow into the night. 

“I’ll explain everything to you at some point detective, just not yet,” Came a voice from somewhere in the surrounding trees, though he could not tell from where. It seemed to come from everywhere at once, making it difficult to pinpoint a precise location. He shook his head and turned towards the man lying on the ground, bloodied and unconscious. Another shock confronted him as he look at the empty ground, the body of the man needing medicinal help had also disappeared. He shivered from fear, pushed his safety to on, holstered his pistol and ran his hands through his hair. 

“Who are these guys?” He whispered.

August 2007