Shit.
I hold my hands out to the sides, palms open.
“Don’t move,” says a male voice I don’t recognize. “Turn around slowly.”
I sigh. I start turning my body clockwise, getting maybe halfway around before making my move. It’s an instinctive reaction. I didn’t consciously choose to do it, but when someone puts a gun on me from behind, there’s only one thing I’m ever going to do…
I whip around, fast and sudden, and bring my hands up. I grab the guy’s wrists, forcing him away from me. As I complete my turn and face him, I slam my palm up against the underside of his fist, knocking the gun loose from his grip and into the air. I catch it with my right as I jab his nose with my left. Not hard enough to break it, but enough to distract him and maybe make his eyes water a little, ultimately giving him something to think about other than me. I level the gun at his forehead, ensuring the safety is off and my finger is resting against the trigger guard.
I smile. “I moved. Sorry.”
I’ve never seen the guy before. He’s a little shorter than me, lean and toned. He’s wearing jeans and a jacket with fashionable sneakers. He’s holding his nose and looks pissed.
Well, it serves him right. Sneaking up on me like—
CLICK-CLICK.
CLICK-CLICK.
Oh, come on!
I glance left and right. Two more men have appeared, and they’re aiming guns unwaveringly at my head.
The guy in front of me flashes a cocky smile. “You shouldn’t have moved.”
I flick my eyebrows in agreement. “Yeah, fair point.”
I put the safety on with my thumb, hook my finger in the trigger guard, spin it in my hand, and present him with the butt of his gun. He takes it calmly and I hold my hands out to the sides again. “Sorry about that. Can’t blame a guy for trying, though, right?”
He promptly knocks the safety off again and places the barrel against my forehead. “Have you got the silliness out of your system now?”
I shrug. “Honestly? I’m not sure. I was contemplating taking this guy’s gun…” I nod to my left. “…and shooting you in the knee as I elbow this guy…” I nod to my right. “…in the throat. Then, seeing as you all have the same model Sig Sauer, I figured I would take the mags from two of them and head for the exit armed with the third… see what happens.”
He raises an eyebrow and exchanges a look with his friends that I take as uncertainty over whether or not I’m joking.
I’m not.
I smile. “But then, that’s an awful lot of effort, isn’t it? How about I promise to behave if you all promise not to shoot me until I speak to the man in charge.”
He raises an eyebrow. “What makes you think you’re not?”
I smile again. “I’m sorry, friend — don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re not management material. Forgetting how quickly I took your gun off you just then, people in charge don’t get sent in first. So come on, who’s calling the shots around here? I figure I owe them a drink.”
Footsteps echo in the darkness to my right. They’re slow, patient. Whoever it is, they’re in no hurry. This could be them now…
No one moves or speaks, as the sound grows louder. A figure steps into the faint glow of the overhead lights. He’s wearing black leather shoes and a brilliant white suit. He stops a few feet in front of me, just behind the guy with the sore nose, and regards me silently, expressionless.
Huh…
My eyes go a little wide with surprise. “Fuck me… Colonel Sanders? What the hell are you doing here? I thought you said your offer had expired on account of me taking too long to think about it?”
He takes a deep breath, stroking the loose skin under his chin. “We’re not completely without heart. I was perhaps a little unfair pressuring you like that, under the circumstances. You have potential, so I thought I’d take a chance on you. How are you feeling?”
I shrug. “I’m not dead, which is nice. Have I got you to thank for that?”
He nods. “You have, and you’re welcome. We replaced some of the guards and the doctors in that facility with our own men. I have to say, it all went better than I had hoped. Your execution made for good viewing.”
“Glad I could entertain. So, how exactly did you…?”
He smiles politely, without humor, as if he was expecting the question. “We switched the chemicals usually found in the lethal injection with a neuro-inhibitor known as TTX.”
I frown. “Isn’t that… oh, what’s it called? Tetro-something?”
He nods. “That’s right. Tetrodotoxin. It’s extracted from the pufferfish, and with just the right dosage, it can essentially simulate death. You were officially pronounced dead in front of President Schultz a little over forty-eight hours ago. You were then given an antitoxin shortly afterward to counter the effects. We brought you here to recover.”
“Right… Well… Thanks for not killing me. Sort of.” I glance around. “And where’s here, exactly?”
“That’s not important. What is important, is this.”
He nods subtly, and the guy on my left grabs the back of my head, forcing me to look down. I feel something cold press against—
“Ow! Hey!”
I spin around and push him away before clasping my neck. That piece of shit just injected me with something!
“Calm down, Adrian,” says the man in white.
I turn back to face him, frowning. “What did you just do?”
“We simply implanted a small tracking device into you. It’s accurate to about three feet. It’s nothing to worry about — it’s for your protection more than anything. Everyone who works for The Order has them. It allows us to monitor your progress while on a mission, and assist you should things go wrong.”
“Uh-huh… You forget, I used to work for the CIA. When people inject you with shit and say it’s for your own good, it usually means it’s not.”
He nods, as if he understood my point of view, but ultimately could care less about it. “I appreciate this must be… overwhelming for you, Adrian. I know it’s a lot, asking you to trust me, but you’re a member of The Order of Sabbah now. From this moment on, this is the only life you have, and you need to come to terms with that.”
“Yeah, yeah — fine. Just, next time, if you need to stick anything in me, can you just ask? Or at least buy me a drink first…”
He nods, smiling humorlessly. “Of course. Now, I have to be honest, getting out of that room and giving you the tracking device were just the first part of a test. An initiation, if you will. There’s no doubting your skills, Adrian, but we haven’t existed for so long by letting just anyone join our ranks.”
I raise an eyebrow. “First part?”
“Yes. The second part will begin shortly.” He nods to the man on my left.
“Wait… What do you mean? Can someone just tell me what the f—”
2
I open my eyes slowly. It takes a moment for my vision to focus. I put a hand to the back of my neck and scratch where I was injected.
Ow!
My head’s throbbing from where I was hit. I’m definitely shooting the bastard who was standing behind me next time I see him! Piece of shit, thinking he can—
Hang on…
What’s that noise? It took a minute to register, but now it has, it’s deafening! It sounds mechanical, like an engine. A really big engine…
I look around. I’m in a large empty space, sitting on a bench that runs along the full length of one side. I glance down and see I’m dressed in an unmarked khaki coverall. Sitting opposite me are two men. I haven’t seen either of them before. They’re dressed in similar outfits, and they’re both holding automatic rifles. Carbines, I think — hard to tell from over here.