A group of solo mercenaries are hired to work together as a team outside the confines of the law in order to eliminate a Government conspiracy. Can they succeed before the conspirators get greedy?
Matt Geller fixed his single eye on the photo of his sister. The Chief of police had said they could not find her killer. That they had exhausted all their resources in their attempts to find the man who had butchered her, left her dismembered body for Matt to find.
Matt knew they hadn’t done all they could, that they were holding something back. He was going to find her killer, and he was going to make him pay.
Matt slashed with his machete, slicing through the practice dummy. He vented his built up anger on its cotton flesh, ripping it to shreds. Soon all that remained was a mangled pile of fabric. Chest heaving, Matt stood straight and left his training room. He moved into his office and stared into the mirror.
A different face than Matt was used to stared back, his face gaunt and consumed with rage and a lust for revenge. His wavy black hair was wild, and the scar which dragged from his left eye to his chin only emphasised that wildness. Matt’s right eye was blue, and it was the only part of him which appeared calm.
He took a calming breath and sat at his computer. An email popped up on the screen. His editor was wondering if he had any new novel ideas. Matt did not. He was contemplating writing about his search for his sister’s killer; he was sure it would sell well, like his first two novels.
Matt sighed, changed from his practice gear into a casual shirt and jeans, picked a Glock from his drawer and holstered it in his belt. He glanced for a moment at some of the larger guns; an AKA 47, an RPG, an M14 Sniper Rifle, a Remington 870 Shotgun and a Sten, to name a few. Matt’s former stint in the army had rewarded him with some heavy firepower. He shook his head, deciding they were not for today.
He pulled a jacket on and headed for the front door. As he was about to open it, a sharp knock came from the other side. Matt swung it open, revealing a man, dressed in an impeccable black suit complete with a pair of sunglasses.
“Mr. Geller, might I have a word?”
“May I ask who you are?”
“Agent Simmons; Jeremy Simmons” the man produced a badge from his inside pocket.
“Come in, Agent Simmons”.
He brought the man through to the living area where they sat. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Call me Matt”.
“Matt, we at the CIA have been monitoring your actions of late. They were brought to our attention when you took out a man who we were also in pursuit of two months ago”.
“Are you here to arrest me? Or kill me maybe?”
“No, Matt. I am here, to offer you a job. We at the CIA require your services as a mercenary for hire”.
Matt was taken aback. “Go on”.
“We want you to lead a team. We believe that a man in Government; Marco Flemms, along with several associates; including some CIA members are conspiring and are involved in a number of illegal activities; such as the trafficking of drugs, arms, humans, the murder and assassination of innocent people, and terrorism. There is a danger that they might attempt to take the lives of World leaders. We need you, and the team you will lead to investigate, and stop these criminals”.
“Who else would be on this team? And why can you in the CIA not handle this yourselves?”
“We will recruit the rest of the members. You will each receive a payment of $250000 upon accepting this job, and a further payment of $250000 upon completion. As to why we cannot handle it; as I have already said, we believe members of the CIA are involved. If we were to attempt anything, our lives, the lives of our loved ones and so much more would be in grave peril. If you accept this job, we will only be able to offer you minimal assistance. You will be operating outside the confines of the law, but you will be susceptible to arrest and jailing should you be caught”.
“I understand. When can I meet the rest of this team you want me to lead? I will decide then if I will take on this job or not”.
“Meet at this address at midnight next Friday”, he passed a slip of paper to Matt.
“See you then, Agent Simmons”.
Matt sat in the corner of the tavern, a pint of Coors in front of him. He took a slug, then his thoughts turned to Agent Simmons’ job offer. He had to admit, it was tempting, and it was something to distract him from his never ending search for his sister’s killer. Finishing his pint, he stepped outside and began to make the journey home.
He turned into one of the back alleys. He passed a doorway, and a man stepped from it.
“Yo, Dr. One-Eye, gimme all yer money” The man stumbled over, a pen-knife in his hand, the stench of alcohol emanating from him. Matt glanced quickly to the side, spun and within five seconds had the man pinned to the ground, his knife hand pinned to his spine. Matt leaned forward to speak in the man’s ear.
“Fuck off home. If I hear you have been bothering anyone around here again, I will take care of you”, he pulled out his Glock and showed it to the man, “understood?”
The drunk nodded. “Get off me man”. Matt rose to his feet, pulling the man up, and shoving him off down the alley. The pen-knife rested safely in Matt’s pocket. He smiled, and headed home. The job offer seemed even more tempting.