“What is it?” Rohan insists.“This young lady here is my hitman when she was very young. So, she was my quiet accomplice while I was raping women.”“I said to shut up!”Tyrianne is about to pull the trigger when Rohan places his hand against hers. She was trembling. Is that why she knew how to use a gun? Is this why she was too involved with their plan? Is that the reason she is staying as a director in an orphanage, given that her talents don’t match at all? Is it her way of repenting?“Tyrianne, it’s okay,” Rohan whispers. Somehow, he feels like he needs to say it. He pushes down Tyrianne’s gun as her trembling continues. “Careful now...”Tyrianne tightens her hold on the gun, but her shivers start to die down.“Did you kill every guard here, my dear hitman?” Terence asks.“You—”“I did,” Rohan says.“Ha! Another man taking credit for a woman’s work. Just like Alston.”And being compared to Alston… It somehow feels calming, as if it places everything into perspective. “We are going
The bustling city pulses like a living organism, its veins congested with honking cars and shoving pedestrians. Rohan and Tyrianne run through the throngs of people. The cacophony of voices blend into the background, punctuated by the shrill cries of street vendors hawking their wares. A pungent miasma of sweat assaults their senses, mingling with the aromas of sizzling meats and spices from nearby food stalls. “This is the second time!” Rohan complains, his eyes scanning every face, searching for any hint. Another note has been sent to them, warning them of their not-good-strategy to defeat the elites, saying it won’t work soon and they will pay with their lives. The note was left by a street child, but the instant he saw them, he ran away. “We need to be careful, Hansel,” Tyrianne says, who is still using his other name for safety. “Someone good is definitely watching our move.” “From the Twelve Elites?” “Most probably.” “Your lover?” “If you are referring to Clint, then he wo
“We need to train,” Rohan blurts out the instant he opens the door and sees Tyrianne in the gardens, stooping over all the flowers she’s taking care of.“Mr. Rugge!” she exclaims, as her eyes go to the orphanage kids, who are also tending the gardens. “Kids, leave me and Mr. Rugge alone for a while,” she adds.“You should tell your kids that we are friends,” he proposes when all the orphanage kids are out of the greenhouse.“You know kids these days. They will think that something is happening between us.”“But it’s the truth, there is—”“The romantic kind, Hansel,” she cuts him off.“Oh,” he mumbles.“So? What are you saying earlier?”Rohan clears his throat. “The last time, we failed to run after a kid who left us a message. Do you remember?”“Is that why you are suggesting for us to train?” she asks, her arms across her chest.“I’ve done combat before, but I think I am getting rusty. And you?”“You know what I was before.”They pause and look at each other. After a while, Rohan say
A cold wind swept through the dark alleyways, biting at Rohan’s face as he and Tyrianne look for any clues that connect the warning note to the sender. Rohan’s fingers tighten around the handle of his pistol, feeling the weight of it as he looks around the streets. “Rohan, you’re too tense,” Tyrianne whispers. “You need to stay clear-headed if we are going to find this person.” “Easy for you to say,” he mutters. Now that they have one clue to knowing who is sending the letters, he can’t help but get agitated. “Look,” Tyrianne says, pointing to a torn scrap of paper wedged between two cobblestones. It bears the same symbol that matches the one they had found on the back of the warning note. “That’s the same notes they used to send us warnings,” she adds. A street child told them where to find the same type of notes that are used for the message. The child added that he knows someone who received a huge sum of money just to deliver the notes. So, as they turn a corner, they discover
Finally, Rohan spots the abandoned train tracks and takes a turn onto a dirt road. The sun is setting. It’s about time for workers to leave the factory. He parks the car a safe distance away, grabs his gun, and watches the entrance. There are still lights flickering inside, even if most of the employees have gone home. “I hope this place is just a paper mill,” Tyrianne comments. They both step out of the car and approach the entrance cautiously. Tyrianne checks her gun, and Rohan also pulls out a small knife from his pocket. As they move closer, they can hear machinery whirring inside. Rohan motions for Tyrianne to stay back as he approaches the door. He listens carefully, trying to hear any movement inside. “Ready?” he asks, and she nods. He pushes the door open. The moment they step inside, they are immediately hit by the acrid smell of paper chemicals. The factory floor is dimly lit, with only a few overhead lights illuminating the area. Rohan moves stealthily, avoiding piles
Rohan’s next destination is the docks. As they reach it, they find a small crowd of people singing and dancing. He looks for a man with the description given by the boss. From the crowd, there is only one that fits Pablo’s description—a man in his thirties with black, messy hair and horn-rimmed glasses. He is on one of the tables, watching the dancers while drinking beer. Rohan glances at Tyrianne in the distance. This time, she agrees to be a lookout. She’s not far from the docks. With her with him, things always turn bloody. And Rohan doesn’t want violence when he’s amidst a crowd of people. Approaching Pablo, Rohan sits on the chair across from him and smiles. “Good evening, Pablo.” He snorts. “Why do you even know my name?” “Gertrude Mendoza,” Rohan states and, based on the smirk that plays on Pablo’s face, he already knows why he’s here. “We need to ask a few questions.” “Damn, even during my rest time, I am still going to be asked about my work?” he complains. He places a c
Rohan squats in a decrepit office building in front of Pablo’s office. In one of his food deliveries yesterday, Rohan slips in a couple of lavalier microphones, including a clip-on mic and a set of instructions. That way, the audio won’t be a problem. As Rohan watches, he hears a cacophony of clattering keyboards and ringing telephones. Another assistant is also barking orders to everyone. Employees, including Pablo, hunch over their desks, heads down, and trying to avoid eye contact with the prowling assistant–looking as if he is a lion stalking his prey. He shifts his attention to Pablo. Endless documents are before him, and he is already looking dead even before his shift starts. Long hours without pay and a constant barrage of insults. And Rohan wonders what else he can add to the list. “Look alive, Pablo!” the assistant barks at him. “Do you think you are paid to daydream?” He only glances at him and nods. Then he returns his attention to his work, with no changes in the way
The following weeks are a flurry of activities. They set their plans in motion. Rohan and Pablo help gather evidence against Gertrude, while Tyrianne snakes her way into infiltrating Gertrude’s inner circle. Although, Tyrianne looks all harmless, innocent, and sincere—it belies the fact that she can ensnare anyone within her traps.The door opens, and Tyrianne comes into his office. She is wearing a purple dress that reaches half her thighs. Her hair is up in a lovely bun and her heels are at least five inches high.Sitting on a couch, she removes her heels and starts to massage her feet.“Gertrude Mendoza has her fingers in a lot of pies,” Rohan informs her.“Right,” she says. Clearly tired and annoyed by the recent social event she had just attended.“How’s everything on your side?”“Bad. I didn’t see Clint at all. No one from Gertrude’s side attended the event too.”“A waste for the get-up?”“What?” she asks, frowning.“Well, you look pretty in that dress,” he comments, almost trip