Unspeakable: Fate's End, #5

By Steven F. Deslippe and Tina Rosekrans (Edit This One, LLC)

Though we are taught the difference between right and wrong, there are those that at some point in their lives choose to ignore that ideology. Selfishness thus becomes the basis for their decisions wherein they do not care who gets harmed along the way, so long as their wants become a reality.

 

Sharice Cortland and Sabastian Banks will find themselves unwillingly drawn into a situation in which each must play the game first before they can do what is necessary to stop the madness from continuing. For one of them, they must reluctantly cross the line. For the other one, it becomes the opportunity they sought to verify that their chosen vocation is what they believed it was fated to be.

 

Neither expected that their embraced missions would end up intersecting, which proves that as family, each would always have the others back.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Edit This One, LLC d/b/a Wordy Gerty Publishing
• Release date: Feb 5, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215590775

Book preview

Prologue

Time can cruelly make you wonder what could have been.  If the mutual decision had not been made by his parents, would the early awareness of the world that Louie Mazotti was a part of become enough by itself to influence Marco into following in his father’s footsteps, or would the accumulation of life experiences, and seemingly inconsequential moments throughout his first two decades of existence, be all that was needed to encourage him chose a path of his own?  It’s impossible to know.  What he was fairly certain of, was if he had decided to turn a blind eye to what was supposedly his fated destiny, life would still end up providing him with all that he could ever ask for.  With that being said, it was likely that a bit of regret would linger within him until he took his last breath.

His wounded heart continually begged to be healed.  Marco was a realist, and as such, believed it unlikely to be repaired — at least, not fully or even in the near distant future.  For it to ever begin to mend, years, maybe even decades would have to pass on by.

Learning the truth can sometimes make things far worse than if it was never sought out — and that was why Marco was hesitant to mess with fate.  He had a feeling that there would come a day when the stars finally aligned and his wish would be granted.  His life would undoubtedly be changed forever then.  He had no reservations about that taking place, or what might happen thereafter.  What worried him, though, was just how much the perfect relationship he had with his mother would be affected by that revelation.

For as long as he could remember, every time his uncle’s monthly visit was about to end, a strange notion of abandonment would surface within his mind.  Thankfully, that crazy thought never lasted any more than an hour or so.  Marco believed himself to be a very perceptive individual, yet not once did a possible connection between those two things ever surface.  Maybe that was because he never felt the need to question his mother’s declaration that Louie Mazotti didn’t need to share their DNA to be as close to them as any other member of their immediate family.

They say that hindsight is always twenty-twenty.  Marco’s loose interpretation of that saying was that life sometimes liked to play unnecessary games.  For some unknown reason, he was never able to put two and two together, even though there had been times when the clues could not have been any clearer.  Every time his uncle was near his mother, he would treat her as if she was the most important person in the world.  And every time he was near Marco, a bond was felt that seemed as strong as any father and son would have.

Right after contact with his uncle had inexplicitly been severed, his soul began to feel as if it was slowly being eaten away.  Not knowing where Louie Mazotti was, or if he was even alright, became the perfect excuse for Marco to use to no longer care about things that had been important — the drastic decline in his grades was proof of that.

When that black limousine unexpectedly pulled up in front of where he had been sitting, not far away from the entrance of the main university building, what he was about to become privy to was the furthest thing from his mind.  It took only seconds of reading what he had been handed for him to learn of the existence of a world he had only thought could be found in books, shown on television and in film, or conjured up in one’s imagination — and never would he have thought that his ‘uncle’ would have deeply been immersed in it.

With the truth he had longed for seemingly within his reach, he surprisingly found himself without a dilemma.  Basic logic wasn’t even needed, as he already knew what he wanted to do.  Yes, his mother’s voice was echoing in his head, begging him to not give in to temptation, but the urge he had to learn everything was just too strong. 

He didn’t see himself as being an uncaring son, but this was his life, not his mother’s.  The time had come for him to leave the nest.  By definition, he was an adult now and he had the right to make his own decisions.  If they ended up being the wrong ones, he just had to man up and take responsibility for them, because that is what he believed his father would expect of him.

During the first few miles to where his new life awaited, he looked aimlessly out the window at the scenery as it passed on by.  Very little of what he saw, registered in his mind.  His thoughts contained a lot of wondering, confusion, and conjecture — along with the intermittent appearance of his mother’s pleas.  What was clear was that sorting it all out was going to take far longer than however many hours it was going to take before they arrived at their destination.

Without having any idea as to what awaited him, it was likely that if he allowed fear of the unknown to rule his thoughts, he would second-guess his decision to step inside the limousine.  He couldn’t allow that to happen.  So, instead of frying his brain with unnecessary suppositions, he just sat back and reflected upon the best moments of his life.

Oddly, he was finding it difficult to enjoy his memories.  He was unsure as to why this was happening.  The only possible reason he could think of for this was the skepticism he had as to whether or not he could reverently honor the incredible legacy left behind by his father.

As soon as they passed the city limits of Chicago, Marco’s thoughts no longer seemed to be one massive cloud of ambiguity.  The world he had known, the city he had lived in his entire life, had officially been left behind.  There was no going back — at least, not back to the way things had always been.

Of all the questions Marco had, he assumed that only a few would be answered unreservedly.  With each inquiry he made, that supposition became more and more invalid.  No given reply had felt contrived; every one of them seemed sincere.  Even if he wasn’t being given the whole truth, it didn’t matter — that was because, within only a handful of minutes, there was strangely a comfort level with these associates of his father’s that he had to believe would not normally be there until after several months of being a part of his life.

Whatever they were willing to share with him, he accepted without any ambiguity.  The reason for this was that he knew nothing of the underground world.  Like the disappearance of Jimmy Hoffa, it was easy for him to assume that there were things never meant to be uncovered.  Yes, his curiosity was keen on learning any well-guarded secrets, but he also understood why that sort of information would normally never be freely revealed, no matter how much trust he earned.

When the subject of his parents was discussed, the explanation he was given seemed oddly straightforward.  Supposedly, his father’s identity was never made known because of the world he was immersed in.  That was understandable.  Yet, there was a part of Marco that had a sneaking suspicion his mother’s unyielding nature was the main reason why the truth was never revealed.

Upon reaching their destination; two hundred and fifty miles later, and after roughly a hundred questions asked, not only did he have a better idea as to who his father had been, he felt proud to be Louie Mazotti’s son.  Within a matter of only a few hours, Marco had gone from being a young adult with dreams and aspirations to having one foot in the door of the criminal world.  What also awaited him was the bestowed responsibility to rebuild and lead the Detroit Underworld Organization into the future.

Before being able to assume the role that was to be expected of him, Marco first needed to dedicate himself to his schooling — even more so than he already was.  He knew that he could do it.  What he was uncertain of, was if he would be able to disregard the urge to step onto the path he was born to walk before he was ready to.  Yes, the boss’s chair at the D.U.O. headquarters was waiting for him, but genetics did not automatically guarantee that that seat belonged to him.

When Marco stepped out of the vehicle, he took a moment and scanned his surroundings.  He knew within seconds that he wasn’t in Detroit where his father had lived and worked; he was in a typical, suburban neighborhood instead.  He was certainly curious as to where he was and why, but decided to not ask, what would surely be a dumb question, and just trust the men whose care he had been left in instead.

The day Zhin became executor of Louie’s estate he knew that it would only be a matter of time before Marco Mazotti took over the reins of the Detroit Underworld Organization.  Not for one moment though, did he foresee the young man being forced to transition into that leadership role this soon.  He was only a couple of years removed from being a teenager — and although he was technically an adult, growth, and maturity still clearly needed to take place before absolute power could be handed over to him.  Had he not gotten the previous nine months he had to prepare, Zhin might have been dreading the responsibility he now had.  Yes, there was an enormous amount of work to be done, but he felt ready to take on this challenge — and even though he has only had a few hours so far to get to know the young man, he believed that Marco had what it took to exist in a world very few live beyond the age of retirement.

As Louie did, he too believed that a well-educated leader would be a far greater asset to the organization than just someone thrust into that role and then forced to cut their teeth while on the job.  To ensure that this took place, Zhin made the necessary arrangements to transfer Marco from the University of Chicago to the University of Michigan.  Coincidently, the organization’s safe house was already located in the middle of that student community, so it simply made sense to stay there rather than in the heart of Detroit.

As for what Zhin and Nicoli were going to do while Marco attended school, neither was certain.  What they did know was that for the legacy of the Detroit Underworld Organization to continue, some pampering, nurturing, and even some discipline of Louie’s son was going to be required.

Easily, it could be assumed that the organization was now a disbanded entity.  This supposition worked in their favor, as it allowed them to take all the time they needed to ensure that Marco would be one hundred percent ready for the day the D.U.O. leadership was officially transferred to him.  And when that took place, the organization could then declare itself reborn, and the second half of the twenty-first century, theirs to claim, occupy, and conquer.

Without a doubt, her whole world had just fallen apart.  Everything she had done to make sure that her son would have a normal life, to ensure that he never knew who his father was and what Louie Mazotti was a part of, was now all for nothing.

Deep down inside she knew that Marco would one day find out the truth.  What she never predicted was that her son’s father’s death would become the reason for that happening.  If Louie had still been alive when this revelation took place, she would have confronted him and demanded an explanation as to why he betrayed her trust.  Now, her resentment had to be directed somewhere else — and she was afraid that it would unintentionally be toward her one and only child.

Admittedly, her self-interest had blown up right in her face and now all she had left were the pieces that she somehow had to pick up and attempt to put back together.  How exactly she was going to do that, she had not a clue.

She thought about calling her son, but she did not know what she should say.  Even if Marco had not yet become aware, it was only a matter of time.  And when that revelation occurred, the way things were between them was surely going to be different going forward.

Without a doubt, her son was going to be flooded with a bevy of emotions — and she believed that anger would be among the strongest of them.  She knew that Marco wouldn’t blindly act upon it.  Even so, it was all but guaranteed that he was going to confront her.  Her admitted mistake wasn’t telling her son before now who his father was; it was thinking that this dreaded day was never going to come.  And now that it has arrived, she was ill-prepared for what the ramifications of her decision were going to be.

Roughly a half-hour after she had reread Louie’s letter, Mirella was able to calm herself down enough that she felt confident a full-blown panic attack wasn’t going to happen.  She had even surprisingly resisted the temptation to empty the full bottle of rum that was staring back at her from the other side of the glass door of the liquor cabinet.  Oh, how she wanted to drown her sorrows in it — but doing that would just make it far harder than what it already was keeping her thoughts clear.

Now or later, it didn’t matter as an unavoidable shitstorm was headed her way.  As much as she would prefer to delay it for as long as possible, doing that wouldn’t make her responsibility as a mother any easier, so she picked up her vid-cell and called her son; a call that went unanswered.  She looked at her watch, saw the time, and then realized why that had happened.  Marco’s school day wasn’t yet over, which meant that he more than likely was still in the middle of writing an exam.

A false sense of hope came to her.  Even though she recognized it as being just that, she welcomed it.  Maybe, just maybe, she could reach him before the truth was learned.  If it came from her, she would at least have the opportunity to do some damage control.

Usually, when Marco was unable to answer her call, he would send her back one of their agreed-upon acronyms as a text: I/C (in class), W/F (with friends), or I/D (I’m driving).  His replies were usually within a minute of her call.  Yet this time, that did not happen.  Though her fears had not yet been realized, the writing seemed to be on the wall.  Louie was already gone from her life.  If her son chose to leave it as well, she honestly didn’t think it would be possible for her to continue.

Disappointed and heartbroken, Mirella placed her vid-cell back into her purse.  Unsure of what she should do next, she walked without purpose out to the backyard and stopped only when she arrived beside the tall oak tree at the back corner; the same oak tree that Marco, to this day, would climb.  It had always been his favorite place to go and relax, think, and sometimes spend hours upon hours reading above the ground on the large lower limb.

She sat down at the base of the tree, leaned her back against it, and looked across the yard toward her empty house.  Mirella felt lost.  Every inconceivable scenario was being conjured up in her mind — and not one of them ended with any sort of positive outcome.

Less than two minutes after she had claimed her spot on the ground, the unavoidable happened.  Because her thoughts and heart were both encouraging her to accept the fact that her son was no longer oblivious, the floodgates had no choice but to burst open.  Essentially, the River Styx now divided her perfect world from the one her son’s father had been a part of; a dangerous, yet alluring society that she believed was going to take Marco away from her forever.

As tears marked parallel paths straight down her cheeks, she chastised herself for not thinking to grab that bottle of rum before she walked outside.  She knew that drowning her sorrows in alcohol was only a temporary way of removing herself from the realities of life, but she didn’t care.  A self-inflicted F.U. seemed appropriate and well-deserved because, in her mind, she had failed at every important aspect of her motherly responsibilities.  Whether or not that was true, it was how she felt at that very moment.

It had been a few days since he read the letter left behind by the woman who had captured his heart.  Her emotional words had instantly brought him right back to where he had been not too long ago — lost and looking for some answers, so it was easy for him to understand why she felt the need to repair the damage that she had done to her family.  He truly hoped that she succeeded in her quest.

Even though they had only been together for a short time, he knew that her absence from his life was going to be a difficult thing to deal with.  Not long ago, Sabastian’s atypical existence had finally gained some clarity.  It then found some needed meaning the moment Madelyn walked into it.  Unfortunately, some suspicion came with that as well.  Not until he allowed his heart to guide the way was he able to understand that his fated destiny included her. 

For several days, Jerrelle had encouraged him to call her.  But each time he contemplated doing that, hesitancy appeared within him.  It’s not that he didn’t want to talk with her; he was just afraid that he would become an unnecessary distraction.  He believed that what was far more important than his selfish want was for Madelyn to focus only on her objective.  Upon it being achieved, he was certain that he would then become an important part of her future and not just a footnote from her forgettable past.

He sat in his office chair, holding a cup of real English tea that was flavored with a tablespoon of lemon liqueur.  As he did this, Sabastian’s eyes were drawn over to the family portrait sitting on the far corner of his desk.  Within only a few seconds, it brought forth the memory of what he experienced just a few days ago when his mother had come to him on Jerrelle’s balcony.  He smiled inwardly.  Not only did he feel whole at that moment, he felt the love that she always had for him, as well as the pride that radiated within her — especially when she had given him her first bit of motherly advice.  That brief encounter, as impossible as it should have been, was all that it took for Sabastian’s emotional pain to go away.  He felt no more sadness, no more confusion, and no more uncertainty — joy, assurance, and lucidity had replaced them.

Before he knew it, the last of his morning tea was gone.  As disheartened as he was that an abundance of cherished memories could have been created had his family not been taken from him, there was no point in complaining.  As they say, when life hands you lemons, you make lemonade.  He had always made the best out of any situation he found himself in, and that was never going to change.  Thankfully, he had his friends and family close by to help him whenever they were needed — in both a supportive and professional capacity.

Deep down, he had a feeling that everyone was going to be relied upon far more often than what should normally be expected.  He knew they would not have a problem with anything asked of them, but it still bothered Sabastian.  He needed to get over the idea that he would be taking advantage of their close association with him.  If the roles were reversed, he would drop everything he was doing at a moment’s notice and do whatever it was that was needed of him without questioning why.

Allowing a guilty conscience to influence a decision, especially when a specific path has already been laid out for you, can result in a destiny going unfulfilled.  Sabastian could not let that happen, as he wholeheartedly believed that responsibility had been bestowed upon him at birth to leave behind a legacy just as important and impressive as the one his father had created.

1

She sat in the last booth and looked out the front windows of the Octopus’s Garden; a mostly vegetarian restaurant that was located only a few blocks west of the downtown core of London, England.  She wasn’t looking at anything in particular; she was just observing the people going by and reflecting upon just how complicated her life was.

Not once has she ever regretted her decision to follow in her mother’s footsteps and work for the British Investigation Agency, but a dilemma unlike any she had ever had to deal with before was beginning to interfere with her normal way of life.  She hadn’t intended for this to happen but somehow, an infatuation had quickly grown for a man whom she had only recently met — Henré Laperriére.

Because of her line of work, she was convinced that it was best to refrain from getting herself involved in personal relationships, as they could end up becoming the reason that a critical mistake is made.  Somehow, the door to one swung open — and she had no idea how to securely close it.  Logic told her that that needed to be done, but there was a part of her that was insisting she finds an excuse to not do that just yet.

Throughout her adult life, Sharice had never shared a real, personal bond with anyone.  She had been in a few short-term relationships; all of them, however, were meant to either temporarily remove that feeling of loneliness or satisfy her sexual needs.  If somehow a real connection had been established between her and Henré and she hastily severed it, she had to believe that decision would haunt her for a very long time.

Shortly after she had turned twenty-seven, she felt a sudden urge to reassess her life.  Strangely, her work no longer seemed to be near as important to her as it once was.  Maybe, that unexpected epiphany is what was now causing her to experience all of those unfamiliar and uncertain feelings.

Unsure of what to do, she just sat there in deep thought.  The solution she sought should be simple for someone like her who investigates for a living, but it oddly wasn’t.  Her normal way of thinking seemed to be incompatible with this type of problem.

By the time Sharice had finished her chickpea garden salad and the last of her sim-caf, her dilemma was still nowhere close to being solved.  Seeking out advice would be the next logical step for her to take, but she had no desire to embarrass herself.  Therefore, she decided to try her best to just forget about her little quandary until she had more time to search for a solution.

To help direct her thoughts somewhere else, Sharice turned on her E-tablet and began to review the information she had so far accumulated for the case that she was currently working on.  After a few moments, she noticed that Carol Shields, the manager of the restaurant, had quietly joined her and was now looking directly across the table with a motherly concern on her face.

The conflict in Sharice’s eyes could easily be seen; she also knew that her friend wasn’t someone that freely shared what was on her mind.  Even so, Carol wasn’t about to let her off the hook.  Until her suspicion was proven to be incorrect, she wasn’t going to move a muscle.  I’m all ears.

Huh?

What’s going on?

Um... Sharice’s job required the use of a lot of discretion.  The sharing of information with those not in the same line of work as she was never supposed to take place.  Carol Shields, however, was by far the most trustworthy person she knew, so she had no problem confiding in her whenever she felt the need to.  In this instance though, she decided that it was best to just keep everything to herself — and that included the uncertainty she had about Henré.  Talking things over with Carol had always helped her in the past, but every aspect of her current case was sensitive and really should not be shared.  Not yet, at least.  ...It’s nothing, really.

I don’t believe that for one moment!  Carol leaned forward as much as the table between them would allow and then set her crossed arms on it.

She had no choice but to smile inside; her friend had been equally a mother to her as her own.  Sonia Cortland had been one of the most astute individuals to have ever lived — and never once had Sharice been able to pull the wool over her eyes.  Carol Shields seemed to be cut from that same cloth.  She could not be lied to or manipulated, nor could a secret be kept from her.  That being said, she also knew when to back off and allow the space someone needed until they were ready to talk about whatever was on their mind.

After a few minutes of waiting for a response that seemingly wasn’t going to come, she decided that her friend needed to be granted a temporary pass.  Normally, she wouldn’t give in to a refusal that easily, but her gut was urging her to do so this one time.  Okay.  I’ll be here when you are ready to talk.

What she was personally feeling, and what direction her job was eventually going to take her in, seemed like they were on a collision course.  One of those issues, she knew had to be talked about before she left this table, so Sharice took a moment and finished off her sim-caf.  As Carol was refilling her cup, she gathered her thoughts and — she at least knew who her sounding board was.  That knowledge is what allowed her to have no worries about being chastised if she chose not to reveal everything.  Um... While I was in Michigan helping out Sabastian, I met this man...

Before Sharice could finish her sentence, a genuine smile appeared on Carol’s face.  Her instincts had been right.  Something was bothering her friend — and for once, it appeared to be personal and not work-related.  And.., what seems to be your problem?

My life is complicated.

And... no one else’s is?

That’s not what I am saying.

Listen, Sharice.  I remember my mother telling me once that if life was meant to be easy, then our existence would have no real purpose.  We should not be content to just live until the day we die.  As humans, not only should we continually strive to better ourselves, we need not be afraid to try and accomplish things that at first may seem unattainable.  If we decide to let one simple roadblock be the reason for us not forging ahead, then we may as well concede to being nothing but sustenance for the rest of society to consume.

Sharice did not expect those philosophical words to come from her friend.  She didn’t see herself as being complacent; just cautious.  With that said, she never allowed anything to stand in her way of reaching whatever goal it was that she set out to achieve.  When it came to conquering matters of the heart, however, she compared that to space; the last unexplored frontier.  I’m just... scared.

Of what?

Of letting someone enter into my crazy life.

Your line of work isn’t the most challenging occupation there is.  Extremely dangerous and stressful.., yes, but not one for which a balance between it and your personal life cannot be achieved.  I fail to understand how it is that you can’t figure out how to juggle work with play.  You are one of the most intelligent individuals that I know.  There is no reason why you should think that committing to a relationship with someone is simply not possible.

Sharice knew that Carol was one hundred percent right yet her brain just did not want to acknowledge it.  Yeah, but.., he lives in a whole different country.

That is a lame excuse.  Distance is only an obstacle if you choose to let it become one.  If there is a will, there is a way.

I know that, Carol, but I’m afraid to let him into my world for fear of something happening to him.  I don’t know if I’d be able to handle it.

I know firsthand what that kind of pain is like, and so did your uncle Maxwell.  It’s not something that I wish for someone else to experience.  But you can’t let that possibility become the lone reason why you won’t take a chance on a potential relationship with someone who just might end up becoming your soul mate.

I know, but...

But if something were to happen to a person whom you care deeply about, then you need to dig deep down inside and find that one thing from their misfortune to draw strength from.  Eventually, Sharice, you will become a better person as a result of that experience... unless you choose to let it affect the rest of your life.  Then it will eat you alive.

Which is what my uncle did?

Yes.., but you can’t use his example as a reason not to open up your heart to someone.  I think you should follow the path that the two of you started on together and see where it ends up.  If you each veer off in a different direction, then it wasn’t meant to be.  But you’ll never know what true happiness is unless you take that chance and find out if your paths were meant to merge into one.

Sharice smiled at her friend.  Carol’s words had unsurprisingly made sense.  Her unfounded fear, more so than the thousands of kilometers between them, was the only thing standing in the way of something special potentially developing.  Her friend was right; it would be a mistake to just let Henré become nothing more than a memory, so she got up from the table, walked around to the other side, and gave Carol a big hug.  She then left the restaurant and went back to what she had been working on for the last six months — gathering as much information as she could on a low-life piece of shit named Nino Fellucci.

While sitting in her car and observing the building that her target lived in, Sharice continued to reflect upon the advice Carol had given her.  At the same time, she watched the live video feed provided by the two micro-cameras that she had secretly placed inside Nino’s condo a month earlier.  Unfortunately, since their installation, she had been unable to obtain anything substantial to add to the little evidence she already had.  It was utterly frustrating; not just for her, but for the entire B.I.A., as there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that the man was guilty of everything he was suspected of.

Unlike others who have been involved in the trafficking industry, Nino Fellucci didn’t limit himself to one thing.  He appeared to be a proponent of ill-gotten gains.  Anything he could profit from, he seemed to have no problem smuggling: drugs, counterfeit money, gems, cloned hardware and software, copyrighted media, and even knock-off merchandise.  What helped more than anything to grow his empire, though, was his willingness to steal and sell antiques and priceless artwork, as well as supply young girls for the sex trade industry.

Since she had begun her investigation, Sharice had disappointingly learned only one new thing about her target.  Former Extremist Clandestine Liberation member, and current associate of the Detroit Underworld Organization, Nicoli Nemchieve, had a longstanding friendship with Nino.  That revelation, though somewhat surprising, didn’t seem to be all that relevant to her case.  Even so, it was something that she needed to make sure she did not forget.

Just like every previous day, this one had ended without anything important being learned.  She seemed to be cursed with a continuing cycle of failure.  She didn’t want to think negatively, but she was beginning to feel as if what she was doing was a complete waste of time.  There were other avenues available to explore that could produce the information the B.I.A. was looking for, but those were far riskier.  The last thing they wanted was for Nino Fellucci to discover that he was being investigated.  If that were to happen, it would then make it even harder for them to gather the needed evidence against him.

With the day’s light about an hour away from being gone, Sharice decided that she had had enough.  There was no real reason for her to call it a day, as there were still plenty of hours left in it, but she was really hungry and preferred a hot meal instead of eating another peanut butter sandwich in her car.  Maybe later on, if she had nothing better to do, she might come back and watch Nino’s place for a few more hours.

To her surprise, her car did not want to start.  The engine wouldn’t even turn over.  Her Mini SUV hybrid was less than two years old.  It baffled her as to why it was suddenly dead.  Of course, when something like this happens, any normal person would just pop the hood, exit the vehicle, and take a look to see if they could find the problem.  Even though the risk of exposing her anonymity seemed minimal, Sharice did not wish to take that chance.

It wasn’t what she wanted to do, as she honestly believed the problem was simple enough that she could take care of it herself.  Agency procedure, however, dictated that she was supposed to call headquarters and have them send someone over to fix her car.  So, after a moment of swallowing her pride, she grabbed her vid-cell and, just like her car, it too was dead.  She didn’t believe in coincidences.  ‘What in the hell is going on?’ she asked herself figuratively.

After spending a couple of minutes trying to make sense of everything, she decided that it would be best to not fret over what was happening and just abandon her vehicle.  Before she did that though, she took a moment and looked at her surroundings.  The coast seemed to be clear, so she grabbed the door handle and — it didn’t work.  Neither did the power windows.  She was locked inside.  ‘How is this possible?’ she thought.  Even with a dead battery, there is no way she should be trapped inside her vehicle.  Sharice was befuddled.  Nothing electronic was working.  None of this made any sense to her.

It seemed that logic no longer applied — but before she could form any sort of out-of-the-box hypothesis, a van appeared from around the far corner of the same condo that she had been watching.  Seconds later, it pulled right up in front of her, stopping only a few inches from her front bumper.

Two rather large men, who both were well over six feet tall, confidently exited the vehicle.  Each promptly took up a position on either side of Sharice’s SUV where they then stood in a manner that quickly forced her to acknowledge just how vulnerable of a position she now found herself in.

Her service weapon wasn’t within reach; it was in its hidden compartment within the glove box, so there was no point in her even trying to retrieve it.  If she were to attempt it, she would essentially be granting permission for her death to occur.

Sharice chastised herself.  As a highly trained agent, she knew that there was always the possibility that something like this could happen.  So that it didn’t, she always stayed conscientious of her surroundings.  Yet, she somehow failed to do that.  And because she had, there was only one option left for her to take.  With a pair of Beretta M12S’ resolutely pointed at her head she did what she swore she was never going to do.  She surrendered.

His heart wasn’t into it.  It’s not that he didn’t want to work out; he was just having trouble keeping his thoughts clear.  The fact that he was at the same gym where he first met Madelyn should be irrelevant.  He had this unfounded fear, however, that something innocuous was going to end up triggering his emotions.  The last thing he wanted was for them to make their way to the surface and be fully displayed for everyone in the gym to see.

Any chance of that scenario occurring could be eliminated, but Jerrelle refused to accommodate his want.  There was another fitness center twenty blocks away at the other end of the city in which Sabastian could have used his membership, but his friend saw no logic in driving there to work out when their usual gym was within walking distance of the agency.

She was right and he knew it.  Intentionally avoiding the possibility of a specific memory being triggered was something that only a weak-minded individual would do.  Sabastian was military trained after all, so if something were to cause him to think of her, he just needed to view that moment as being verification as to just how much she meant to him.

Jerrelle could easily see that her friend was not his usual self this day.  Unfortunately, she did not possess any knowledge when it came to psychology.  The only way she knew how to get someone to understand something was by using the physical method.  Luckily, her friend wasn’t yet acting unbecoming of who he normally was, so employing her tried and true tactics were not yet necessary.  That being said, if he started to show any sign of not being the Sabastian she knew, she’d have no choice but to drag him over to the boxing ring at the back of the gym, close the door, and beat some sense into him.

Determined not to let it get to that point, she desperately searched for something that her friend could do to help take his mind off of Madelyn.  It shouldn’t have been that difficult for her, but it annoyingly was — some friend she was turning out to be.  He had been there during her time of need after Helfred had died and had helped her to move beyond the pain and sadness that likely would have taken up permanent residence within her soul.

Jerrelle was at a loss.  She was certain that his family would be there for him, but she honestly felt that it was her responsibility alone to help get him back on track.  Maybe, all that Sabastian needed was a case to investigate; one that would force him to redirect his thoughts onto something other than Madelyn.  Or maybe, another mission with his military unit would snap him out of it.  He was a different person when he was serving his country.  There, he was a man who took charge of whatever situation he was placed in, made sure that his fellow soldiers performed their duty to their utmost ability, and would take it upon himself to not only ensure their safety and survival, but he would make certain that their mission got completed as assigned.

Richard Atwater, a close friend of Sabastian’s and fellow S.N.A.F.U. member just might be what he needed.  Jerrelle, though, did not know how to get in touch with him.  Notwithstanding that, he recently chose to undertake a large responsibility by volunteering to escort the body of his fallen brethren, Ben Fraisure, back to the man’s hometown of Jacksonville, Florida.  She knew that task was going to affect him in some way personally or emotionally — and it was a certainty that not enough time had passed yet for him to be able to come to terms with what he had experienced.  Therefore, it would be rather inappropriate of her to request assistance from him at this time.

After their workout at the gym was completed, Jerrelle still wasn’t convinced that Sabastian’s mental facilities were where they should be.  So, instead of leaving him alone and hoping that he would eventually return to his normal self, she all but forced him into joining her for a few drinks.

It had only taken her one day after she had officially moved to San Antonio from Detroit to find her new favorite watering hole; a place called The Bull Pub.  Unlike the majority of the dives that she would frequent back home, she wanted to find a place a little more respectable; a change of scenery that went right along with the other changes she intended to make in her life.  The Bull Pub not only felt right to her the moment she first walked inside, but she was instantly welcomed — and by the time she had finished that first pint of beer, she knew that this was a place where she could freely hang out, drink, have a few laughs, and not have to worry about whether or not she would have to fight her way out of the establishment at the end of the evening.

As soon as they walked through the door, the bartender, a young woman named Annalise Cuthbert, greeted Jerrelle by name, and then without asking what she would like to drink, began to pour a pitcher of Bud Light.

You know, Sab, I’m glad that I decided to move down here.  At first, I thought that maybe I’d feel like a fish out of water, but so far I have felt not only acceptance from your family and friends, but also from those that call this city their home.  Jerrelle thanked Annalise for the beer; she replied with a ‘you’re welcome’, produced a friendly smile, and then returned to her duties behind the bar.  I have yet to sense any of the animosity and hatred that I had to deal with while living in Detroit.  From the moment that I first walked in here, I was treated no differently than anyone else.  That never happened to me before.

I’m glad you’ve found such a welcoming place.  We all need our safe havens.  It is important, however, for the Bull Pub to not be the only place you feel comfortable being at.  Sabastian took a second to make sure the next words he spoke were not taken out of context.  I can see the changes you’ve already made; both inside and out, but...  For as long as I have known you, you have always felt it necessary to keep the outside world at a distance and things of importance to yourself.  That has to change as well otherwise, there won’t be all that much of a difference between the old you and who you want to become.  If you find yourself struggling with anything, remember that I will always be there for you.

His words unexpectedly made Jerrelle feel happy.  She could not have asked for a better best friend.  Making changes to who I am hasn’t been easy.., but I’m glad I have decided to do that.  And thank you.

Sabastian took a healthy swig of his first beer and smiled.  Jerrelle did the same, but she did not reciprocate the gesture.  Instead, she spent a few seconds savoring it before saying, Even if I do become the person that I want to be, I am certain that my inner ‘bitch’ will never completely go away.

Her friend expelled an unexpected laugh; his response to her avowal is what told her that Sabastian wasn’t going to end up sinking into the depths of personal despair.  The idea she had of the two of them having a few drinks together after the gym appeared to be exactly what he needed.

Right after their second beers were poured, Sabastian’s vid-cell rang — it was early in the evening and he wasn’t sure why Savanna was reaching out to him.  You don’t normally call me at this time of day.

I just wanted to make sure that you were okay.

I am now.  I’m having a few drinks with Jerrelle.  And as always, she is doing a good job of pulling me out of the gutter and cheering me up.  So... why are you calling me from the agency?  You should be home right now.

I was bored, so I came back here to clean the place up a bit.

Sabastian wasn’t at all happy that Savanna had decided to return to work to do something on her own time that should be done during regular business hours.  She had once told him that, ever since his father had come into her life, the agency had been her priority.  Nothing else mattered to her.  For some reason, she was okay with not making any friends or having any sort of social life.

At thirty-one years of age, and in Sabastian’s expert opinion, Savanna was a very attractive woman that any single man within her age group would fight over.  He did not have a clue as to why she chose to keep a somewhat sheltered and regimented life instead of venturing out into the world to find that special someone.  The only conclusion he could draw was that that scarred little twelve-year-old girl still existed within her and believed that any strange man that got near her had immoral intentions.

Sabastian made a mental note at that moment.  After he felt certain that his issues were addressed, he would help Savanna deal with whatever roadblocks seemed to be in her way.  Go home.  The agency isn’t in dire need of being cleaned right now.

I know.., it’s just that it helps to clear my head.

Sabastian did not believe her declaration for one minute.  Arguing with her, however, served no purpose.  She had all the right in the world to do what she wanted, as long as it wasn’t unethical, illegal, or self-harming.  With that said, he suspected she was purposely keeping something from him that should be shared.

The protective ‘little brother’ within Sabastian started prodding him to leave his half-consumed second glass of beer on the table and head straight over to the agency.  If he did that though, and his assumption was wrong and nothing was going on, then his actions could be viewed as being unnecessary and even intrusive.  It could also end up doing some damage to their close relationship.

Feeling somewhat lost, he looked over at Jerrelle and was about to ask her for some womanly advice when he received another incoming call.  When he saw who it was, he quickly finished off his conversation with Savanna, wished her a good night, and let her know that he would see her in the morning.

The display on the vid-screen showed that his military bud, Richard, was calling.  Curiosity now enveloped him, as his friend normally never rang his cell unless it was something important.  Hey, man.  What’s up?

Not much.  Where are you right now?

Sabastian informed him that he and Jerrelle were at a local bar having a few beers; Richard replied that he was not at the military base in Houston where he was supposed to be.  He instead, was in San Antonio.

That revelation caught Sabastian off guard.  Other than having a family emergency or being granted leave, there should be no reason why his friend wasn’t with the rest of the platoon.  After taking a moment to think, he determined that an in-depth inquiry over the phone should not be done, so he invited him to join them at The Bull Pub.  Ten minutes later, Richard arrived — just by the way he walked into the establishment, Sabastian could see that his friend was a completely different person than he was only a few days ago.  The concern that had already been there for him grew even more.

Their table stayed relatively quiet until a fresh pitcher was delivered.  It took until Richard finished that second gulp of his needed beer before he was ready to reveal the reason why he volunteered for escort duty.  As one of the perceived leaders of the S.N.A.F.U., it was his responsibility to do everything that he could to ensure every mission ended the same way it began.  Unfortunately, the unit’s last operation resulted in the loss of one of its brethren.  And as such, Richard felt that what had happened could only be his cross to bear.

After Ben Fraisure was laid to rest, questions about his life’s choices began to arise.  The main one was whether or not the time had come for him to make some changes.  Sabastian could empathize with what his friend was going through, as a similar scenario happened to him not all that long ago.  Any help or guidance Richard may need, he would certainly provide it.  With that said, the revelation that his friend believed he was as responsible for Ben’s death as the terrorist that pulled the trigger, bothered Sabastian immensely.

He was certain that in time, his Richard would realize just how erroneous and unjustifiable his conviction was.  If that did not occur, however, it would then be up to Sabastian to get his friend to understand that blame for what had happened should be directed toward no one.  Long before any individual pledged to serve their country, it was understood and accepted that there was the possibility their life might be lost — it was an unfortunate aspect that came with being a Union soldier.

After savoring another healthy sip of his beer, Richard let everyone know that, as Sabastian had done, he applied to have his status changed from active to reserve.  Until he knew for certain that a continued career in the military was for him, he felt it was best to just step away from it for a while.

This revelation shocked everyone at the table.  Jerrelle had only just met Richard a few weeks prior, but she had pegged him as being one of those lifers.  This was something that she never would have predicted; yet she knew firsthand how an individual’s death could change one’s entire perspective on life in ways that could never be imagined.  "Your captain must have been shocked by your decision?’’

He was, Jerrelle.  But he also understood my reason.  I guess he was at least happy with the fact that I chose to go on reserve status, and that I am willing to serve my country again if its freedom is ever threatened.

I honestly hope that doesn’t happen anytime soon.  Although I will honor the remainder of my obligations, I am one hundred percent ready to leave that part of my life behind.

Well, Sabastian.  I am happy to be the one to let you know that you won’t be called back into active service ever again.

Richard’s pronouncement immediately confused him — and Jerrelle — and that increased tenfold when his old friend handed him an envelope that had an official A.C.U. military seal on it.

As he took a swig from his freshly delivered third beer, Sabastian hypothesized as to what might be inside.  He had no idea what that could be, so he opened up the envelope and curiously removed its contents.  Then, with unexpected anticipation, he read the official letter that was addressed to him from the Ameri-Can Union Secretary of Defense.

Dear, Mr. Banks

Your recent efforts were not only directly responsible for the cessation of terrorist threats posed by both the A.R.M. and the U.A.L. but a good portion of our stolen military weaponry was also able to be recovered because of it.  Consequently, this office has determined that you have far exceeded what is ever expected of a Union soldier.  And as such, has decided that you have earned the right to forgo the remainder of your service obligations... if you so choose to do so.

I also have been given the privilege of informing you that your exemplary performance will be recognized in the form of an accommodation, to be issued by the Department of Defense, as put forth by your commanding officer, Captain E.J. Swilling.

A future ceremony will take place in your honor and I look forward to personally meeting and thanking you for your important contributions to this great amalgamated nation of ours.

Yours truly, William J. Helms

A.C.U. Secretary of Defense

Sabastian just sat there stunned.  This was not something that he had ever imagined would happen to him when he first joined the military.  His enlisting had only happened because he had essentially been forced to do so by his thought-to-be father, Terrance Burelli Sr. — all because of a stupid stunt that he had pulled when he was fifteen.  Now, all those years later, he was being recognized for something any other serviceman would have done if placed in the same position he had been.  As far as he was concerned, he was only doing his job.  But apparently, his actions were being viewed in the eyes of the Union military’s top brass as going above and beyond the call of duty.

He passed the letter over to Jerrelle so that she could read it; Sabastian then turned his attention over to Richard.  Other than a thank you, this is far more than I ever deserve.  I don’t...

Just shut up and accept the fact that you have earned this.  What you did, conducting and leading those raids did more than you could ever imagine for not only our country, but for those other members of our unit.  I’m not sure you realize the pride that now exists within every one of our fellow brethren.

It was always there.

"In being a Union soldier... yes.  But in themselves, they now feel it more than ever.  All because you believed they could become something far more than what they even thought they were capable of.  You helped them to find the courage and confidence each needed to succeed, especially after the loss of their C.O., your fath...  Anyway.., they all now know that they can make a difference.  Maybe not as significant, but no matter what direction their lives take going forward, every one of them believes that some form of success will come their way.

Sabastian sat back, took another sip of his beer, and thought about what Richard had just said.  He never imagined that he would have been an inspiration or an influence on others, nor did he ever think that his own life would take on this much importance.  His mother had been right.  If he had not been taken away as a baby, then he would not have impacted as many individuals as he already has.

He thought about the man who had raised him; about how proud he would have been if he were still alive to share this moment.  What Terrance Burelli had done all those years ago, kill Sabastian’s mother and kidnap him, happened exactly how it was supposed to.  An unexpected smile appeared across his face — it was due to his sudden unconditional acceptance of the past.  Even now, what was occurring in his life was meant to.  None of it was a test; it was just another step taken on his fated path.

Although neither of them got to the point of being drunk, they did stay until closing time, celebrating, and reminiscing.  As they were making their way toward the front door of the bar, Jerrelle told the others that she wasn’t quite ready to go home.  Sabastian’s first thought was that she was going to go looking for a fight, but that quickly went away after looking into her eyes.  The usual fire wasn’t there.  It was a near-perfect evening and apparently, she just wanted to walk the streets and explore more of her new home city.

For once, he believed her.  What surprised Sabastian though, was that his friend would normally never consider leaving her prized, classic car in an unattended public lot — especially during the late evening hours.  But apparently, this part of the city had a very good reputation.  On top of that, the Bull Pub’s head bartender, Annalise, had assured Jerrelle that nothing would happen to her vehicle.

Whether or not that was the case, Sabastian decided to try and convince his friend to just call it a night.  Here, in San Antonio, she was an unknown entity who easily could blend into the city’s population of one point four million.  Even so, having the reputation she did; it was very hard keeping it from rearing its ugly head.  For some reason, trouble always seemed to find her — especially when she had been drinking.  Thankfully, she wasn’t going to be walking the evening streets in downtown Detroit where there was someone around almost every corner that knew her or held some sort of grudge.

Satisfied that Jerrelle would be fine, he and Richard took their awaiting cab back to his apartment.  Once there, his old friend claimed the couch and Sabastian went straight to his bedroom.  Every night before he turned in he would look at that painting of his parents’ wedding night and quietly speak to them, telling them just how much he missed and loved them — and even though they were not physically in the room, Sabastian still believed that they would always hear him.

Tonight, he’d selfishly wished that they were there so that he could share his good news.  He felt so much pride inside, and he so desperately wanted to see how they would react; how they would feel.  Unfortunately, all he had of them were his memories of their recent ethereal visits that Sabastian sadly, had a feeling were going to be the only ones he would ever get.  It wasn’t fair, but he was content to have experienced those brief moments; moments that others who have lost loved ones never get.  For that reason alone, he was very much grateful.

Adjusting to his new life, as secluded as it was, was easier than what Marco had first expected.  For both security and anonymity reasons, he had been encouraged to stay within the confines of the safe house.  Other than the fenced-in backyard, the only way he could venture anywhere outside was if either Zhin or Nicoli accompanied him.  Marco didn’t honestly think that such restrictions should be placed upon him, seeing that he was an adult.  However, this new world that he had decided to become a part of was very foreign to him.  So, until he became much more familiar with it, he just had to accept and adhere to the ground rules he had been given.

The initial preconception he had of his father’s trusted associates turned out to be completely false.  He honestly expected only reluctance and ambiguity from them.  Instead, they had been very receptive and forthcoming — it was what quickly