Day of Reckoning
2. Task Force Spectre
The darkened office was quiet, illuminated by a single laptop screen. 3 men were present; Dusty, Chief Raylan Givens of the Texas FBI branch, and a 3rd man, a mysterious British man who somehow felt the need to wear a mask. "I tell ya boys, it's a right mess in the motherland at the moment" the mystery man said, "London hasn't seen anything like this since the train bombings back in 2005. It's a fucking frat party in parliament at the moment. The Prime Minister's talking about putting out a separate op to nail the bastards who did it, but we all know if that happens, your government will see that as a fucking war declaration. I think the time's come to get the arseholes in secret, just between us, no fucking government knowledge whatsoever." "Yeah, we'll have to keep this off the books" Dusty pondered, "Givens, you're in charge of the manhunt for these guys to the public. We need you to throw out false leads, make it look like the FBI is doing everything it can, keeps ours and the Brit's government happy enough to not nuke the shit out of each other." Givens looked indignant; "you know how many times a day I have to talk to the other FBI heads? How much I have to talk to the goddamn president? We run this op on our own, if we all get caught or die, no fucking government in the world is gonna help us. Hell, even the South Americans won't want a bar of us!" "Look man, we know all that, but if we go about it the way we're supposed to, what's gonna happen is us and the Brits here are gonna go to war, and that's the last thing we want" Dusty said gravely. "Too right mate, the PM's already on the verge of making a strike on the White House" the mystery man said, "we have to run our own op... Dusty, you've got a bloke on the ground, am I correct?" "Yeah, fresh out of the Army, passed OTC with flying colours... matter of fact, I was workin' with him when all that shit went down in Texas" Dusty smiled, "he's the best man for the job, he grew up with the enemy." "Who is he? I need to know I can trust him" the mystery man enquired. "Can't give his name, but I can hint, but don't breathe a word of his identity to ANYONE" Dusty said, "codename Vengeance." "Shit, he actually made it in" Givens expressed surprise, "seems like he's serious." The mystery man stood silent for the moment, then spoke; "Hang on a minute... wasn't he a guitar player? With that band our suspects used to be in, before they became psychopaths hell-bent on mass murder?" "Yeah man... I think you know who it is" Dusty smiled. The mystery man said finally, "...Zacky fucking Vengeance! How the hell does someone like HIM join the Army, let alone join the big boys in Spec Ops?!" "You'd be surprised" Givens said, "we didn't think he'd be as good as he is either, thought when he put him in as a mole he'd flunk it and get shot in the head. But shit, the kid kept his cool, gave us what we needed. He kicked some serious ass in Afghanistan as well." The mystery man stood still and let this information wash over him. "All right" he finally said, "put me in contact, I think I can work with this bloke." "Sure, name the time and place" Dusty said, lighting a cigarette with Givens. As the mystery man left, Givens looked at Dusty and asked "what's his deal with the skull mask? And what in hell kind of a name is Ghost?"
"V" came the familiar voice over Zacky's headset. "Dusty, what's up?" Zacky said, smoking outside the café in a small German town. "Keepin' the Senate off our backs back home, how's Germany?" Dusty asked. "It's real nice Dusty, except for the weather, cold as fuck here... people are fucking strange" Zacky grumbled. "Yeah, never liked the place myself... what have you found out so far?" Dusty wanted to know. "A bit" Zacky said, "but apparently they are still around here somewhere. I met this girl the other night, recognised me from my old band. She started chatting me up, showing me pictures she took with fucking Matt. She tells me he's apparently out of town somewhere... trying to get in with her, like organise a drug party or something. She said that her and Syn got high on cocaine. I dunno, might hit up the dealers 'round here, get some shit." "Sounds good brother, just don't get caught... and needless to say, don't pop that shit yourself" Dusty warned, breaking contact.
Zacky stood up off the café chair, paid his bill to the nice-looking waitress, and left, offering a warm goodbye, which he got back in return. He had dressed to fit in with the average German- casual slacks, handmade shoes, expensive winter coat, European sunglasses, smoking HB cigarettes. He made to stake out the church, knowing that if his old friends were here, it would be a place they would likely hit. He stopped across the road from the old Gothic-looking church, sat on a park bench, seemingly engrossed in a technology magazine. He saw a very familiar looking man strolling across the street, one with a Fedora and long hair... Zacky nearly shouted out loud once he realised who it was.
'That idiot's here in plain sight, and he thinks he's fucking scot free?' Zacky seethed to himself, 'what's that shitbag think he's gonna do here?' Zacky adjusted his realistic-looking fake beard and his Jewish hat, the bowler hat that seemed to be popular with older Jewish men. He made his way stealthily across the street... he swore his old enemy, Syn, looked at him once but didn't seem to recognise who it was, turning back to the girl with him, who looked a little worse for wear. "Typical Syn, always goes for the cheap fucking hos" Zacky whispered to himself, drawing closer enough to listen in on the conversation.
"... baby, will you sleep at my house tonight?" Zacky heard the German whore ask Syn in her thick German accent. "Of course my love" Syn smiled, kissing her. Zacky felt revolted looking at them. "Will you come to church with me tomorrow?" the woman asked, to which Syn replied "certainly. I think we can start our lives together there, start with a bang, you know?" The woman giggled like a schoolgirl, blushed, obviously admiring her new man. Zacky, who had been recording what he could, was shocked. 'This is where it's gonna happen' Zacky thought, 'but when?' Just then, Syn and the girl started walking off, holding hands, staring into each other's drugged-out eyes. Zacky made a business of straightening himself out, flicking through the pages of the magazine while still keeping them in sight, threw the magazine in the nearby bin, lit another cigarette and started to tail them.
"Dusty, target Fedora's spotted" Zacky whispered into the headset, "tracking him now. He's planning on an attack here, I recorded him telling one of his whores in code... bitch looks like she's about to blow in her pants." "Yeah well somethin' else will be blowin' if we don't catch them, and it won't be her pants, but a whole bunch of people" Dusty said, "can you get close to him? Will he recognise you?" "No sir, I look like your garden-variety rabbi" Zacky whispered, "thought he might have, but he's too fucking wasted to even recognise his Jesus hairdo, by the looks of it." "Good luck V" Dusty said, "you know who to call if you run into a shitstorm." As connection broke, Zacky could recall Dusty telling him about some big-shot British operative staying in the area, sounded bad-ass, even giving him the guy's pager number.
It was a lonely alleyway, looked like it had been standing since medieval times. Syn and the girl were engaged in sex against the wall, the girl bent over as he took her from behind. All observed by Zacky hiding in the shadows. 'You better enjoy it old friend, 'cos it'll be the last piece of ass you'll ever have' Zacky thought to himself, cocking his M1911 pistol. He snuck up behind the couple, just as they climaxed. "I love you baby" the woman said, looking at Syn lovingly. "I love you more sugartits" Syn smiled, bending down to kiss her. "And I'm gonna love your sorry ass being in jail" Zacky said, putting the gun to Syn's head. The girl screamed in terror as Syn roared in fright, turning around, staring into the eyes of his old enemy, Zacky Vengeance.
"Woop woop!! Zacky faggotfuck Vengeance caught the big bad wolf, huh!!?" Syn shouted, quickly fumbling for his own gun. The girl sank to the ground in terror, looking at Zacky like he was the Devil. "Don't think about it asshole" Zacky snarled grabbing Syn. Syn, with lightning speed, elbowed Zacky in the jaw, knocking Zacky to the ground, started running, the girl on his heels, half-naked. Zacky pulled himself up with force, ignoring the pain in his jaw, started chasing them. Syn and the girl ducked behind the nearby garbage bin, pulled out his own gun, a .45 USP, aimed straight for Zacky's head, opened fire. Zacky ducked, rolled behind a car, returned fire with his own gun. The girl was screaming in German, terrified. "You think you can come here and just fucking take me in, you pussy!!!?" Syn screamed, "I've evaded every single fucking government agency on the planet, and you think I can't escape one fucking grubby US soldier!!? I've already put out the word, I'm offering $1,000,000 for whoever brings me your fucking nutsack! Hell, I'll up it to $2,000,000 for your wife's tits on a fucking silver platter! You're fucked, Zacky! You'll never make it out of here alive!" With that, Syn started firing his handgun with a ferocity, shotting anywhere he could in the hope that Zacky would be caught by a stray bullet, finally kill him. Syn planned to send Zacky's head mailed to the FBI, minus his eyeballs, which he planned on mailing to Zacky's wife, Annaliese Ramirez. Syn was down to his last 3 bullets; surprisingly, no one had been alerted. 'This really is a desolate shithole of a town' Syn thought to himself, having seen Zacky's prone form on the ground. "Is he dead? What was that all about!?" his girl shouted, clothing herself. "Just some fucking nut who tried to kill me years before" Syn sneered, gun pointed at the seemingly inanimate form of Zacky. Syn reached the mass on the ground, seeing the hat askew, appeared to be lying face down. Syn reached down to check his pulse... and touched a rubbish bag.
"Not that smart are you, asswipe?" the snarl came from behind him. Syn jumped straight up, dropping his gun. The form of Zacky had the gun pointed at his head. "Last chance Brian" Zacky told him, hatred in every syllable, "Come in with me. You may be able to get a deal, maybe you won't see the gas chamber." Brian smiled, "you always were a little wannabe appeaser, weren't you Zacky?"... and quickly drew a knife from his jacket, swinging it at Zacky. But Zacky was faster, pulling the trigger, hitting his old friend in the chest. Brian went down, blood pumping from his chest, his gurgling mingled with the moans and screams of his girlfriend. The girl made to rush Zacky, who restrained her with ease. Ignoring the shouted obscenities coming from her, Zacky looked at his dying old friend on the ground. He bent down, Syn grabbed him, struggling to breathe. "Why man? How did it come to this?" Zacky whispered, couldn't help bit feel some remorse for what he had done; they had grown up together, after all. "Zack- Arin- he... with us" Syn gurgled, life slowly draining from him, "he-third-man. Fuck... you-" Syn died right there before Zacky's eyes.
"V" came the familiar voice over Zacky's headset. "Dusty, what's up?" Zacky said, smoking outside the café in a small German town. "Keepin' the Senate off our backs back home, how's Germany?" Dusty asked. "It's real nice Dusty, except for the weather, cold as fuck here... people are fucking strange" Zacky grumbled. "Yeah, never liked the place myself... what have you found out so far?" Dusty wanted to know. "A bit" Zacky said, "but apparently they are still around here somewhere. I met this girl the other night, recognised me from my old band. She started chatting me up, showing me pictures she took with fucking Matt. She tells me he's apparently out of town somewhere... trying to get in with her, like organise a drug party or something. She said that her and Syn got high on cocaine. I dunno, might hit up the dealers 'round here, get some shit." "Sounds good brother, just don't get caught... and needless to say, don't pop that shit yourself" Dusty warned, breaking contact.
Zacky stood up off the café chair, paid his bill to the nice-looking waitress, and left, offering a warm goodbye, which he got back in return. He had dressed to fit in with the average German- casual slacks, handmade shoes, expensive winter coat, European sunglasses, smoking HB cigarettes. He made to stake out the church, knowing that if his old friends were here, it would be a place they would likely hit. He stopped across the road from the old Gothic-looking church, sat on a park bench, seemingly engrossed in a technology magazine. He saw a very familiar looking man strolling across the street, one with a Fedora and long hair... Zacky nearly shouted out loud once he realised who it was.
'That idiot's here in plain sight, and he thinks he's fucking scot free?' Zacky seethed to himself, 'what's that shitbag think he's gonna do here?' Zacky adjusted his realistic-looking fake beard and his Jewish hat, the bowler hat that seemed to be popular with older Jewish men. He made his way stealthily across the street... he swore his old enemy, Syn, looked at him once but didn't seem to recognise who it was, turning back to the girl with him, who looked a little worse for wear. "Typical Syn, always goes for the cheap fucking hos" Zacky whispered to himself, drawing closer enough to listen in on the conversation.
"... baby, will you sleep at my house tonight?" Zacky heard the German whore ask Syn in her thick German accent. "Of course my love" Syn smiled, kissing her. Zacky felt revolted looking at them. "Will you come to church with me tomorrow?" the woman asked, to which Syn replied "certainly. I think we can start our lives together there, start with a bang, you know?" The woman giggled like a schoolgirl, blushed, obviously admiring her new man. Zacky, who had been recording what he could, was shocked. 'This is where it's gonna happen' Zacky thought, 'but when?' Just then, Syn and the girl started walking off, holding hands, staring into each other's drugged-out eyes. Zacky made a business of straightening himself out, flicking through the pages of the magazine while still keeping them in sight, threw the magazine in the nearby bin, lit another cigarette and started to tail them.
"Dusty, target Fedora's spotted" Zacky whispered into the headset, "tracking him now. He's planning on an attack here, I recorded him telling one of his whores in code... bitch looks like she's about to blow in her pants." "Yeah well somethin' else will be blowin' if we don't catch them, and it won't be her pants, but a whole bunch of people" Dusty said, "can you get close to him? Will he recognise you?" "No sir, I look like your garden-variety rabbi" Zacky whispered, "thought he might have, but he's too fucking wasted to even recognise his Jesus hairdo, by the looks of it." "Good luck V" Dusty said, "you know who to call if you run into a shitstorm." As connection broke, Zacky could recall Dusty telling him about some big-shot British operative staying in the area, sounded bad-ass, even giving him the guy's pager number.
It was a lonely alleyway, looked like it had been standing since medieval times. Syn and the girl were engaged in sex against the wall, the girl bent over as he took her from behind. All observed by Zacky hiding in the shadows. 'You better enjoy it old friend, 'cos it'll be the last piece of ass you'll ever have' Zacky thought to himself, cocking his M1911 pistol. He snuck up behind the couple, just as they climaxed. "I love you baby" the woman said, looking at Syn lovingly. "I love you more sugartits" Syn smiled, bending down to kiss her. "And I'm gonna love your sorry ass being in jail" Zacky said, putting the gun to Syn's head. The girl screamed in terror as Syn roared in fright, turning around, staring into the eyes of his old enemy, Zacky Vengeance.
"Woop woop!! Zacky faggotfuck Vengeance caught the big bad wolf, huh!!?" Syn shouted, quickly fumbling for his own gun. The girl sank to the ground in terror, looking at Zacky like he was the Devil. "Don't think about it asshole" Zacky snarled grabbing Syn. Syn, with lightning speed, elbowed Zacky in the jaw, knocking Zacky to the ground, started running, the girl on his heels, half-naked. Zacky pulled himself up with force, ignoring the pain in his jaw, started chasing them. Syn and the girl ducked behind the nearby garbage bin, pulled out his own gun, a .45 USP, aimed straight for Zacky's head, opened fire. Zacky ducked, rolled behind a car, returned fire with his own gun. The girl was screaming in German, terrified. "You think you can come here and just fucking take me in, you pussy!!!?" Syn screamed, "I've evaded every single fucking government agency on the planet, and you think I can't escape one fucking grubby US soldier!!? I've already put out the word, I'm offering $1,000,000 for whoever brings me your fucking nutsack! Hell, I'll up it to $2,000,000 for your wife's tits on a fucking silver platter! You're fucked, Zacky! You'll never make it out of here alive!" With that, Syn started firing his handgun with a ferocity, shotting anywhere he could in the hope that Zacky would be caught by a stray bullet, finally kill him. Syn planned to send Zacky's head mailed to the FBI, minus his eyeballs, which he planned on mailing to Zacky's wife, Annaliese Ramirez. Syn was down to his last 3 bullets; surprisingly, no one had been alerted. 'This really is a desolate shithole of a town' Syn thought to himself, having seen Zacky's prone form on the ground. "Is he dead? What was that all about!?" his girl shouted, clothing herself. "Just some fucking nut who tried to kill me years before" Syn sneered, gun pointed at the seemingly inanimate form of Zacky. Syn reached the mass on the ground, seeing the hat askew, appeared to be lying face down. Syn reached down to check his pulse... and touched a rubbish bag.
"Not that smart are you, asswipe?" the snarl came from behind him. Syn jumped straight up, dropping his gun. The form of Zacky had the gun pointed at his head. "Last chance Brian" Zacky told him, hatred in every syllable, "Come in with me. You may be able to get a deal, maybe you won't see the gas chamber." Brian smiled, "you always were a little wannabe appeaser, weren't you Zacky?"... and quickly drew a knife from his jacket, swinging it at Zacky. But Zacky was faster, pulling the trigger, hitting his old friend in the chest. Brian went down, blood pumping from his chest, his gurgling mingled with the moans and screams of his girlfriend. The girl made to rush Zacky, who restrained her with ease. Ignoring the shouted obscenities coming from her, Zacky looked at his dying old friend on the ground. He bent down, Syn grabbed him, struggling to breathe. "Why man? How did it come to this?" Zacky whispered, couldn't help bit feel some remorse for what he had done; they had grown up together, after all. "Zack- Arin- he... with us" Syn gurgled, life slowly draining from him, "he-third-man. Fuck... you-" Syn died right there before Zacky's eyes.
Holy shit!!!
3/18/14