Iblis: The Second Book of the Psychs Series

By A. H. Amin

With no more options to venture through, Hassan will be left with only one choice; to flee and start up a new life, leaving all the ties that have braced his entire being. But some ties are too tight, when severed; it will change his balance and force him back to face a tragedy.
Following his leads, Hassan will find himself roaming the streets of London for reprisal. Even with eight spirits by his side, which are connected to him by the tragic event of his birth, he will feel outnumbered, going against the Minerva Group and its limitless arsenal of agents and brutes. Hassan will desperately try his best to stay out of their reach until he finds a way to cut his losses short.
But being too deep in the belly of the beast, he may end up losing more; his life, or even worse his sanity.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Jul 1, 2014
• ISBN: 9781491889084

A. H. Amin

A. H. Amin was born in Iraq, and he had lived most of his life in Kuwait. At the age of twenty-three, he started to participate in writing scripts for low-production movies. At twenty-four, he started with the first book of the Psych series, entitled Psychs. Now, he continues to write the series with the second one, entitled The Remnant, just around the corner.

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AuthorHouse™ UK Ltd.

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www.authorhouse.co.uk

Phone: [phone]

© 2014 A. H. Amin. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 02/04/2014

ISBN: 978-1-4918-8907-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4918-8908-4 (e)

This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or person, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

www.psychsseries.com

To my beloved family. You made me real in this

fictional life by believing in me.

A. H. Amin

The mind is my trap.

The facts are my bait.

Once you look at them, your mind will start to contain an idea.

And before you know it, you will realize…

. . . that the idea had contained you instead.

CONTENTS

Prologue

Chapter 1: Ghosts

Chapter 2: Artificial Solutions

Chapter 3: Empty Seat

Chapter 4: Maturation

Chapter 5: Orientation

Chapter 6: Mar del Baile

Chapter 7: Michael Hudson

Chapter 8: Who Wants to Be a Rothchild?

Chapter 9: Another Death

Chapter 10: The Belgian

Chapter 11: New Facts and a Mind

Chapter 12: Transparent Objects

Chapter 13: Beyond Borders

Chapter 14: Assignments

Chapter 15: The Maze

Chapter 16: Updates And New Leads

Chapter 17: The Bogyman

Chapter 18: An Unexpected Visitor

Chapter 19: The Weight

Chapter 20: A Rollercoaster Ride

Chapter 21: The Kid

Chapter 22: Evil Implodes

Chapter 23: The Only Choice

Chapter 24: Keeping Quiet

Chapter 25: Decoy

Chapter 26: Wet Floors

Chapter 27: The Remnant

Chapter 28: Forever Lost

Epilogue

PROLOGUE

Nicolas stood in front of an orphanage; it was his sixth such attempt to find what he wanted. He wore fake glasses for appearances, and he held a small briefcase in his right hand, a briefcase he clung to and had never let go of since he and others like him had been trusted with keeping them. Today, that briefcase was useful in giving him the appearance he wanted to reflect in public.

The sixth orphanage . . . maybe it’s an omen? he thought.

He left the orphanage, feeling upset. He knows what he is seeking will take time. But he is afraid that his faith in his plans could dampen. In his dark state of mind, his surroundings become obscured; he came back to his senses when a passing car splashed water on him, leaving him with wet clothes and a concern from the thoughts interrupted by the street puddle.

He returned to the safe house available for him in that country. They had many in almost every place in the world. There was a man in that house like the rest of the other houses, a man whose job includes patching the agents and supplying for their demands. Today he was there to make sure that Nicolas woke up after a two-hour nap, so he could leave the country and keep searching for that special kid that no one would ask about.

What got you wet? the man asked Nicolas while offering him some coffee.

My damn luck, he bitterly answered. So as you can see, I couldn’t find the one I want.

Orphans… with no families to care for them, the man said. Abandoned by the father . . . is there a better soldier to adopt?

Nicolas changed his wet clothes and then went to bed; the seven hours he had spent in his search had left him so heavy, he sunk into slumber with an incomplete blink of an eye.

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Nicolas felt a grip on his shoulder; it woke him up.

Time to leave, the man told him.

He looked next to him on the floor, and then he sat upright and looked all around the room.

Where is my briefcase? he asked.

The man searched around, and then he said, Where have you put it?

That statement sobered him up. He always left it right next to him. He looked around for the case but couldn’t find it.

Damn it! Where is it?! The man in front of Nicolas was frightened, thinking that he had just made his biggest, and maybe last, mistake. Nicolas went to his wet jacket and took out his GPS. The case was not inside the house.

They both were in the car now, heading towards the radio frequency’s source. It took them thirty minutes to reach the location. The car pulled over, and Nicolas got out, looking at an old and abandoned house that was missing half its roof; plants were part of the decoration. Who lives here?

Keep the car running, he told the man, and then he took out his sidearm. He moved slowly. His eyes checked every corner for a security camera, and he looked down to spot any traps. He went through, and with each step, he looked for some kind of hindrance that could cause him to be noticed. He spotted a couple of trip wires; following their courses with his eyes, he learned that they were related to some glass bottles. Someone here doesn’t like guests.

Nicolas was old enough not to let such amateur espionage tricks pass him by. He took his time, moving silently inside the house until a noise caught his attention. He heard the hissing sounds made by the rustling of the papers. Someone was searching the briefcase’s contents. His weapon was ready, and whoever was there, he was cornered. He stepped out and pointed his sidearm.

A small figure sat in the corner, his eyes wide, pointing directly toward the weapon Nicolas was holding. Nicolas was surprised. He studied the kid, who was covered with what Nicolas thought could be charcoal soot, and he was surrounded by the contents of the bag. He was scared. His blue eyes showed that even though he was sitting still. Nicolas lowered his weapon.

You’re the one who stole my briefcase?

Yes… you can have it back if you want… you don’t have to shoot me, the young kid answered in a calm, but high-pitched voice of a child.

The way that kid spoke, he thought, analyzing him as he did the other kids in the orphanage. He sounds almost like an adult; you can’t teach real life to a kid confined in an orphanage.

You went through the chimney, didn’t you? Why did you steal my briefcase? Nicolas asked.

I… I thought it had something worth stealing, the kid said.

Why this one? What made you think it’s worth something?

I saw you protecting it from the splashing waters near Mary Magdalene’s Orphanage… I thought it had something valuable.

Nicolas couldn’t believe what he was looking at, what he was hearing from that kid. It is fate.

He looked around and realized that the kid lived here, probably with someone, too. He needed to act fast.

Are you alone, kid? Nicolas asked.

Yes… No one lives here but me.

Nicolas smiled at the young boy and then he came closer. You are a bad liar… but don’t worry, I’ll fix that.

The man in the car looked at Nicolas as he carried the unconscious kid. He placed him inside the car and ordered the man to go. The kid’s head rested on Nicolas’s lap; people would mistake him for his son. Suddenly, Nicolas heard a faint noise. He turned to look behind and saw a little kid running behind the car, a girl screaming a name that dissipated in the air and couldn’t catch his ears. The car moved away, leaving the little girl to her fate.

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Two weeks later, a man Nicolas saw every month had just arrived to get a live report. He learned that Nicolas had found a new kid. He saw Nicolas looking at him from an open window.

That’s a nice Rolls you have there, Nicolas said.

"It’s a 1976 Rolls-Royce Silver Shadow; they won’t release them until next year," the man Nicolas only knows as Bill said.

It doesn’t hurt to look classy, even if we are in a cold war and an economical war. So I understand that I am to see the kid you have been bragging about, the one you told me is not like the others? Bill said, and Nicolas led the way.

One storey below the ground there was a different place. It had two soldiers and three people who appeared as if they had never held a weapon before. Could be scientists, Bill thought.

As they reached a closed door, Nicolas flicked a light switch, and Bill saw some light coming from underneath. Nicolas opened the door.

After you, he said to Bill.

Bill took his first steps inside. The temperature was different; it was much warmer. His nose picked up a couple of smells that he was able to interpret later, after his eyes witnessed the horror.

The kid, not more than seven years old, lay within; every inch of his skin screamed obvious pain, showing bruises, blood, sweat, and tears. He was half-conscious with what little life was left in him. The kid looked at Nicolas, and then he looked at the new face, a man he saw for the first time.

Bill spun towards Nicolas, and then he left the room. The kid was sealed again in the dark.

Nicolas looked at Bill’s shocked and confused face. He placed a hand on his shoulder, and then he said, That’s what it takes to create a devil.

CHAPTER 1: GHOSTS

There was little time to waste. Hassan had to act as fast as he could, and he only had a day to do so. He and Adam, a man he met a little while ago, were in jeopardy, and due to Hassan’s unbelievable gift, they had gained a step ahead, and they were now doing what they could not to stumble.

The reason Hassan had his special gift was because of a secret that only a few knew about. He was born from a tragedy that had caused the death of more than seven soldiers who were trying to help a pregnant widow. That tragedy had connected the spirits of eight ghosts, including his own mother, to him. He only knew of that story after he had encountered those spirits for the first time when they tried to warn him, when he almost got himself killed by a madman. He realized after he got out of the asylum that they couldn’t speak or hear each other. Eventually, sign language came to be their best way of communication.

He grew to know them, and learned what they had learned through their lives, but most importantly, he realized his potential. He wanted to be able to use them and their knowledge. He wanted to become a soldier of fortune.

His choice brought him to this inevitable result. Even with his talent, he could not keep his secret activities hidden forever. The man who saved his life when he was attacked as a young man got a hold of a picture, taken on the day a call came to him from a man Hassan adopted as a secret identity. Hassan was the only one who fit the description, but Lieutenant Solomon couldn’t have noticed it earlier because Hassan was also his friend.

Hassan had to leave the country now, but he wouldn’t leave Adam Goldfish behind, not after all that he had been through.

Adam Goldfish was a US Marine, presumed dead for more than thirteen years. He had been taken as a prisoner because a man named James Anderson had sold him and two of his teammates out. Adam had lost both his arms in that prison, and he was forced to adapt to his altered physical condition. He had spent thirteen years with nothing but time to imagine his revenge and his escape. Fate was cruel enough to through his dead teammate, his best friend, in his cell, burned from the waist below, making him his dinner.

But then, fate was also merciful enough to provide him with a new cellmate who had been imprisoned less time than Adam, a psychological plot his captives wanted to play. His new cellmate recognized who Adam was because he had heard the story Adam didn’t know, the story of the last member of his family, his mother, who had taken her own life after she learned about her son’s alleged death.

With nothing but fuel to quench his burning heart, his anger toward James grew. Adam was patient no more. He was in a cell with a new inmate and what was left of his best friend, a man he knew as Carl; he knew everything about him, and that was what he needed to escape. He used the post-clavicle pin that Carl had in him ever since an accident he had, and with the help of his new inmate, he was able to unlock the door that had been sealed for thirteen years. He ended up escaping alone. He was rescued and then he followed the leads so he could get to James.

The clues brought him to Emirates, and there he met the enemy of his enemy, Hassan.

Against all odds and numbers, they stood with little chance. Hassan had barely survived an attack on a building called the multi-building, and another one on Emirates’ seven-star hotel, The Burj Al-Arab. While Adam managed to survive long enough until Hassan came and helped him from James’s men, Adam ended up with a knife wound. Hassan had been helped by Mason to patch up Adam, one of the eight spirits connected to him, who in his former life was the team medic. Adam and Hassan had been cornered by James, and they had both almost got themselves killed; but they survived in the end by the little luck they had, and with the help of a syringe that Adam had found after he was shot.

James’s demise had brought to both of them a chance to think of their next step. Adam was in the hospital, Hassan was providing him with an altered story, and he provided him with an unbelievable one, too, his own real story. That night, Hassan went to his apartment, to his bed, so he could weave a plan to get Adam and himself in the clear from the authority. They had a story, a convincing one, and with a good lawyer, they might get the chance. But then came another concern.

Is it really over?

The last days drained his energy; he wasn’t able to keep his eyelids apart. When they met, he was no longer in this world.

But the next day, he got the news from Sara, one of the eight ghosts, who was also his real mother. She told him Solomon got a hold of a picture of him, a picture of Hassan making a call at the exact time Solomon got the tip about a possible attack on the multi-building.

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What should I do? Hassan said finally in sign language, after he absorbed the news, searching for an answer from the spirits. There was more than one crucial thing he and the ghosts needed to deal with other than Hassan himself; there was Adam, who was still in the hospital recovering, and there was someone else, the only member left from James’s men, held captive after he had tried to eliminate Hassan. But thanks to the ghosts, they were able to spot him, and they helped Hassan capture him with the aid of one of the few who knew Hassan’s secret, Tony. He had met Hassan in Liverpool University, and ever since, they had been friends.

I need to deal with someone first, before I’ll be able to decide our next step, Hassan told them.

You have two choices, said Rodriguez, one of the ghosts who in his former life was a sharpshooter. The first choice is to stay, get a good lawyer, and always watch your back for the rest of your life. The other choice would be to move somewhere else. You already have another identity you had issued when you were in the university. Become that person from now on.

Hassan decided to study his situation better and to see how Solomon would react to that picture.

Hassan called Tony and told him what he got from the smart phone of Columbus, the man he helped Hassan capture. The messages were mainly from one source, all related to his missions with James. Using an application called Honest Caller, he was able to know the exact source of those messages. They came from Italy, but there was no true ID for whoever had sent those messages.

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After an hour and a half of driving between the two cities, Tony and Hassan reached the place where answers could be provided, logical ones. Columbus was the only one who might know what was really happening, what the reason for the previous attacks was and who caused them.

Columbus was the answer. It may end with him. This remnant of a lead might be the jigsaw piece he needed to understand the picture.

You sure you can manage by yourself? Tony asked as he pulled in front of the place where they kept Columbus.

Positive. He’s tied up, and I can anticipate anything he might try. Jack already checked on him. Hassan pulled the handle of the door. I’ll be fine, he said as he pushed the car’s door open. Once he closed it, he tapped the window, a thing he always did just before he moved away from a friend’s vehicle; once the car moved away he heard it stop again. He turned and found it moving in reverse, passing Hassan. Tony placed the car in the parking lot and then opened the door, just before he stopped the engine.

Just in case you need me, Tony said.

It’s fine, I’ll manage.

Tony came and gave him a nudge, pushing Hassan in the shoulder.

See? Jack and the others can’t do anything. So I’m going with you, Tony said.

Suits you.

Besides, you’re not the only one who’s curious.

They reached the first level. They stopped at the doorsteps, waiting for the ghosts to check the status.

So? Tony asked, since Hassan was the only one who could see the ghosts.

He’s sitting, doing nothing, what do you think? Emma told Hassan. There was a moment of silence; the world was listening in, too. Hassan knew that he needed to get rid of him; he already planned to deliver him to the authorities, they would know what to do. But he would speak about what had happened to him, and he would confirm Solomon’s suspicions. He needed to know how to deal with him.

The silence was broken when Tony placed his hand on Hassan’s shoulder, urging him to go through. Hassan opened the door, making no sound as he did, and then he closed it the same way. The ghosts saw no reaction from Columbus. Hassan thought of many possibilities, the one that spoke loudest in his mind was that maybe he had accepted this situation. This idea gave Hassan more confidence that Columbus would speak, that he would spill everything if it meant he would get out of this room, which made Hassan think, What should I do with him later?

Hassan opened the door of the room where Columbus was held, and both Tony and he entered. Tony wore a ski mask. There was no point in hiding Hassan’s face; Columbus already knew who he was.

Hassan went to the doorstep and pulled up a chair that was right outside and next to the entrance. He sat and looked at Columbus, who was tied up with his hands behind his back, and one of those hands had a bandage wrapped around where he had lost two fingers. He looked back at Hassan; the latter saw him swallow.

Avete bisogno di acqua? Hassan asked in a language not known to him, but learned moments ago through his smart phone. He did that for a reason. Columbus shook his head, not understanding what Hassan had said.

I asked you if you need to drink something, water perhaps?

He shook his head.

Are you sure, because we need to talk, give you a second chance, one that I’m sure you didn’t plan to give me. The man gave a weary smile. Hassan continued as he felt Tony get out to get a chair for himself. You need not concern yourself about James; he’s dead, so are your pals. No one remains. I know exactly what you told me last time, that you were paid, and you have no idea who paid you. You just played your part as a tool. Columbus reacted to the last part by looking wearily at Hassan.

Your words, not mine, Hassan said.

Then what do you want? he finally spoke, his voice hoarse and in need of wetting.

I want to know about you. First thing I can be sure of from the moment I started to talk is that you can’t speak Italian, other than that is what I already know. Hassan saw a minor reaction, so faint it looked as if he just caught the scent of a gas leak.

Why would I be speaking Italian?

Do you speak it? Hassan asked in a final attempt to see what his body would say instead of his mouth, aiding him to find out if he was honest, a gift he picked up from being a psychiatrist.

No, should I? the answer came.

Not necessarily.

Then why do you ask?

Because someone from there was asking about you and your missions for some reason. Can you think of any? Hassan noticed something now. A look, a recognition; then came the doubt of the recognition. He saw his eyes moving back and forth in their sockets, as if they were searching, looking inside his mind at the tapes of memories.

No one I can think of, he finally said.

I see, Hassan said, looking as if he was buying it, but not quite; he displayed a certain degree of it by raising his eyebrows.

If you had to place a face, maybe? Hassan’s eyebrows rose in doubt.

Maybe it is one of our men, and he happens to be contacting us from Italy.

He? Hassan said.

Well, call me sexist, but I assume that it’s a he.

Then how about this: I go ask him, since you won’t be saving time for me. I’ll be going for him myself, sound fair?

Can you at least tell me where he is staying? Columbus asked. Staying? Hassan noticed something vague in the word. Why would he need to know that? Is he trying to make sure of something? But this was fine, even better.

It doesn’t matter. I know exactly how to get to him, and when I do, I may be able to squeeze things out of him.

Hassan saying that would give an indication to him that it was someone Columbus knows, someone he probably knew already but who tried to cover his identity; he could see it, but then came something else.

CHAPTER 2: ARTIFICIAL SOLUTIONS

I’ll take that water now, he said. I have much to tell you about him. He swallowed.

Hassan got up, stepping away from both Tony and Columbus. He went to the fridge to fetch the bottle, eagerly; it was shown later after he was out, after he had taken the mask of emotions from his naked face, which covered his enthusiasm.

So why do they call you Columbus? Tony asked, trying to keep him talking until Hassan came back. Hassan heard him as he reached the fridge, thinking the same thing, only because he had a look at the logs James’s men had kept. He noticed something before: all of the people who were with James were trained by him, and were given a code name by him, too. But everyone had it for a reason, even Adam, when he used to be in the army under James’s command. He had a code name for a reason. The Shark of Ohio sweeps the victory. Adam was known as Shark back then, at his hometown where he used to be a swim champion. So why Columbus?

The answer didn’t come instantly. He studied Tony for a while and then said, Because he did one thing I already have done right now.

Hassan turned and held the bottle, feeling that something was wrong.

He went the other way to India, he said and winked at Tony.

He’s doing something, Rod, with two other ghosts who peered through the wall and looked at Hassan, said, urging him to return.

What are you doing? Hassan heard Tony ask before he entered the door. Hassan saw what Columbus was doing without realizing what exactly was happening. His mouth. He was doing something inside his mouth. A split second thought was that he was trying to swallow his tongue. Tony thought something was off. He turned and bumped into Hassan; the latter pulled him behind and away from his path, so he wouldn’t interfere.

Stay back! Reed told Hassan.

What? Hassan said, looking at Reed.

Duck!

Once it was interpreted, Hassan looked back at Columbus and saw him open his jaws in full. Hassan glanced at something; there was something wrong with Columbus’s teeth. He had artificial and unnatural-looking molars, four of them.

Now!! Reed had noticed it before him, and he noticed something more, too. Liquid was coming from each side, and the molars had their surfaces exposed, revealing what Reed recognized as a fuse.

Hassan turned to Tony and jumped. Once the two liquids were in contact, Columbus snapped his jaws shut, and a loud explosion pushed Hassan and Tony on the ground. It was a suicide explosion that brought both of them to the floor, but only Hassan suffered the effect.

Columbus was replaced by a lesser mass of his former self, surrounded with fragments of flesh. The wall surrounding the entrance was punctured by splinters, and so was Hassan, right in the left thigh.

They got up with a ringing sound in their ears. Hassan looked back and saw the after-explosion view. Then he saw his leg before he felt the pain. He heard a voice in his head, which started as vague, then became clearer. It was Tony speaking to him.

Are you all right? he said, and Hassan nodded, still hearing bells in his ears.

The ghosts checked on him, too. Mason looked at the wound, and then Reed came and told him what had happened.

It’s nitroglycerin. The bastard had placed it in a fixed crown.

Hassan got up with the help of Tony.

Wait a second, Tony, Hassan said, and looked at the ghosts.

Check if anyone is outside, Emma said, and then Rod went outside the building.

Are you all right? Sara asked with fear from the near-death experience they just had.

I’m all right, don’t worry. Mason, is it bad?

You’ll make it, but it should be treated ASAP.

Hassan turned towards Tony; the motion made him cling tighter so he could find his balance.

Tony, you need to treat it; Mason will help, Hassan said.

Wait a second, I’m not a doctor—you are.

He’s a psychiatrist, Mason replied to Tony, who continued since only Hassan was able to interpret what he had said.

Can’t you do it? Tony looked at the wound, already knowing what the answer would be.

It’s in the back of my thigh… I’m not that flexible, Hassan said.

What about the remains? Jack said.

I’ll get to it, Hassan soundlessly said with his lips, since he couldn’t use his hands more than to support himself. He repeated what he said again in the same manner to make sure Jack understood.

The tension is dissipating outside; people in the building are only complaining to each other about the loud noise, Emma told Hassan once she came back, and then Rod followed.

Clear, he told them, since he found no one outside the building that gave the slightest indication of being aware of an explosion. It wasn’t even a big one; it barely could take out close-range enemies. It was surely designed for suicide.

Tony, it’s nothing. Just do what I say and it’ll be fine, now please. Hassan needed Tony to act, and in order to do so, he needed to find a stimulus, a way to force another character to take lead and act—a persona of Tony, that’s what he needed right now, and he knew how to provoke it.

Tony please… it hurts.

Once Tony heard him say that, he placed him gently on the ground, and then he went for the medical kit inside the fridge in the lower drawer. Hassan looked at Mason. He saw him waiting, looking at Tony, and then he saw the others, all of them surrounding him, looking at the injury.

What are we going to do next? With him, I mean, Tony said once he came, referring to Columbus’s body.

After you finish up, I’ll deal with him. From now on, we stay away from this place.

Well, I guess it’s like what you had planned long ago, Tony said, referring at an old conversation they had once, of how Hassan was going to make use of his ability in the long run. Hassan resented the idea of running in the city, localizing himself to a specific place. Within his years of being active, he had only encountered five events of large magnitude, large ones for someone without his talent and ability. Though the latest event didn’t come lightly on him. Two others were prior to his activeness. One was the first time he took a life in an alley, a man who went for a family member to get to him, and the other event was two years afterward, an event that he got out from with a scar on the left side of his abdomen. He wanted to be a soldier of fortune, his hero days were just training.

Yes, I guess it is.

Tell me—what should I do? Tony held the medical kit and opened it before placing it on the floor. The contents inside almost poured out, but Tony was able to adjust the kit before they did.

You’ll be better with sedatives, too. Tell him to get it, Mason said and, to his surprise, Hassan shook his head.

After I get rid of him, I need to be mobile and fully sober for an hour at least. Tell me what to do.

Hassan, we need to finish this quick. Someone might be coming, Tony said.

No one will, Hassan snapped and returned to Mason.

He’ll need to remove the splinter first, then we’ll hope that no tissue debridement is needed because you’ll need a hospital for that.

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Adam felt a presence in his room at the hospital, at a time when visitors were not allowed. He felt threatened, and he started to calculate his options, since he had an injured shoulder and only one fully functional leg.

It’s me, Adam. He recognized the voice. Hassan emerged from the shadows. It was