JerichoBy Noten Kwan

Chapter One

As Vinicius Gabriano looked out into the city-scape of Sao Paulo from the top floor of the GCB tower, he remembered the sacrifices that he had taken to reach that point. The agonized screams of his coworkers as they “stepped down from their position”, and how his wife had left him after she found out.

All of a sudden, his intercom buzzed, and he could only make out the faint voice and a shout, and the intercom went dead. The word “assassin”.

Vinicius panicked, cowering behind his desk, but composed himself, remembering the other times this has happened, and how he overcame them. He called his guards into the room, and had them stand, pressed up against the sides of the wall, anticipating an unknown enemy. They began to wait for the inevitable.

Hours passed. Vinicius was determined to wait out this assassin to the daylight, and sat down in his desk chair. The bodyguards sat down and held their guns tightly, but even they looked slightly fatigued.

At around 5am, even Vinicius began to doze off, thinking that the assassin was perhaps just a scare, and as his eyelids began to feel heavy, his entire body slumping back into his chair. He recalled the many days that he had went without sleeping before this day, and cursed his luck for it. But eventually, his fatigue overcame him.

Right at that moment, a smoke bomb from the ventilation dropped down and exploded in a flash, combining the fumes with a concussive sound effect. Vinicius sat up quickly, and quickly ducked under his chair. He heard the sound that seemed like lasers from the cartoons that he saw in the childhood, and concluded that the assassin had brought silencers for his weapons. One by one, as his guards were taken out, the last grunt was heard from the right of his office, and Vinicius ducked deeper under his desk, hoping to evade this skillful debonaire.

As the smoke cleared, Vinicius recognized the assassin which had been sent to kill him. This man’s face had been plastered on every wall in the black markets of Brazil. Anyone who had been there more than once could probably recognize him; Jericho.

Jericho was a brazilian child, from the slums of Sao Paulo, but his mother was white, so he inherited some genetic traits of both races. As a result, his head was covered in scruffy, brown hair, but his skin was a light shade of brown. Very little was known about Jericho, except that his skill was phenomenal. He was blazing his way through the underground community looking for Pablo Galdikas,who was a politician by day, but actually a large role in the market of human trafficking. Basically all of the people high up were

corrupt one way or another. Jericho walked up to Vinicius and pointed a gun at his head.

“I think you know what I’m here for” Jericho spoke in hushed tones, alert of any sudden move that Vinicius might make. “Where is Pablo Galdikas?”

Vinicius knew that regardless of his answer, Jericho would kill him. Jericho had been targeting any and all connections of Pablo Galdikas since he went into hiding 10 years ago because of an incident. An assassination attempt on Pablo almost succeeded, and he was hospitalized with life-threatening wounds.

“Yeah, and because I know, I’m going to make it just a bit harder for you”. Vinicius laughed as he jumped out of the 50th floor of his building, laughing as he faded into the bright lights of Sao Paulo. Jericho cursed, knowing that people would come rushing into here quickly, and the office would be checked all the way through. Even a quick glance at the scene of the crime would reveal what had happened. Jericho cursed his luck, while conceding the fact that Vinicius had been prideful and intelligent to the end.

With this thought in the back of his mind, he ran back into the ventilation duct. He quickly crawled out to the top of the building, where he kicked open a hole in the air ventilation generator. As he climbed out, he saw the men rush onto the rooftop via the stairway.

Knowing that he had no chance in this open environment, he put down his guns, and put his hands up as they surrounded him. But just as the first man put the barrel of his gun against Jericho’s head, precisely five shots echoed, and all the men on the roof collapsed, obviously dead from the sniper rifle’s bullet that had bored a hole in their heads. Jericho’s earpiece mic buzzed with static.

“Hey J, you better be grateful for me saving your ass back there.” His partner Isabella buzzed into his earpiece.

“Fine, I’ll treat you some food later” Jericho jokingly replied into the mouth mic, and calmly stepped back to jump onto the adjacent building, the escape route that he had chosen as a part of the plan.

He jumped onto the building, and landed gracefully in a tuck and roll fashion, and continued sauntering over the buildings’ rooftops with a graceful, yet powerful force. He landed onto the roof that he had disembarked, and ran down the stairwell, eager to get as far away from this crime scene as possible. He jumped into the black van that he parked there earlier, and drove off.

After driving a few more blocks, he stopped, and Isabella, waiting in the alleyway, walked up to the van, and quickly jumped into the back.

Isabella sat in the van, disassembling her sniper rifle as Jericho drove the van back to their warehouse. Jericho still remembered when he first came to the warehouse.

Chapter Two

Jericho’s memory faded back to that fateful day, in which he lost everything that mattered to him, and he had been set on the fateful quest for vengeance. that day, on July 3rd 1990, the young Jericho was roughly awoken by the sound of men barging into the makeshift house that he and his mother and sister lived in.

The land Jericho and his family were living on was being repossessed by the infamous land tycoon, he remembered as two men roughly attacked his mother and sister, dragging them out kicking and screaming out of their poor hut. Jericho remembered knocking one of the men out, but being swiftly hit in the back of the head by these ruthless men. He was powerless against them, and he knew it.

That day, he cursed his father for passing, and leaving him and his family unprotected. He always had hated his father, for his excessive drinking and gambling, and recalled how neutral he was seeing him cough up blood after the alcohol had taken the better of his liver. He had watched him sink down in a pool of his own blood, and was happy that this bane of his family’s life was gone. But nonetheless, at that moment, sitting on the street-side while the men tore down their slovenly hut, he felt helpless, and missed his father, for the protection that he provided.

But still, the men were not finished. They turned around to his family and sisters, and walked towards them slowly, smiling as they did so. They walked up to Jericho and his family, and grabbed his mother and sister by their wrists, and dragged them, kicking and screaming away from Jericho. That was the last time he ever saw them.

His burning emotions created a more powerful emotion in Jericho; anger. Jericho knew why he had this burning anger inside of him, and he felt betrayed, cheated. Cheated that no matter what, injustice was rife throughout the streets of Sao Paulo, but there was nothing to do about it. at that moment, he realized the greatest weapon that any assassin would use: stealth.

He looked around the dark and dreary street, while the men tore down his home. Jericho angrily picked up a metal bat off the street, probably a remnant of the gang war that happened last week.

To make his plan work, he needed to isolate these terrible men. He told his mother and sister to stay aside and out of sight while the men, watching their handiwork neutrally, and walked slinked back into the other parts of the slum. Jericho thought that their boss was probably in this district, and he was determined to find out who was behind this evil operation.

Jericho hid behind another aluminum hut as the men passed, and all the while the men kept attacking houses in that area. He formulated a plan in

his head. He would distract the men, and take them down one by one, because he knew he wouldn’t survive a straight-up conflict with two men.

Jericho would have to time this perfectly. He found a rock behind the hut where he was hiding, aimed it at the larger of the two’s head, and let fly with his arm. The rock nailed him on the back of his head, making the large man spin around in anger. He began stomping towards the source of the pain, while the smaller man, passively breaking apart the house, didn’t notice his partner leaving the scene.

As the larger man walked towards the general direction of the place, Jericho had set a makeshift trap. He waited for the large man to come around the hut where the was hiding, and let loose on the swing of his baseball bat, swinging it straight into his face, impacting and shattering the cartilage of his nose instantly. the large man keeled over in pain, holding his nose preciously as it fell apart. Jericho followed up with a upwards strike into the large man’s stomach to immobilize him properly, and the hit had him spasming on the floor in pain, clutching both his stomach and nose in a fetal position. Jericho knew that if he spared this man any mercy, he would live to regret it, and brought down the bat on the man’s head, killing him.

Jericho stopped. He stared in horror at the blood on his hands, realizing that he had just killed a man. What had he done? That was a human life, he thought. But then he paused his thought process. How was this different from killing a squirrel, or a small bug? He saw the other man looking over at where the first man went, and decided to revisit this later.

Jericho had no time to lose, and he dragged the corpse of the man behind the hut, and looked for some sort of weapon on him, finding nothing except a small switchblade, that would be fine for what Jericho was planning. He quickly observed his surroundings, looking for a higher vantage point, something that would work to his plan’s advantage. He looked to an adjacent hut which was falling apart, which wouldn’t work. He saw a tree growing around 7 feet away, which would be perfect. He began climbing it, and remembered those summers when he would do this for fun, looking for one hole in the tree and using the nooses as support.

Before long, he was on top of the highest branch of the tree, watching the smaller man look around for his comrade confusedly, getting more worried the more he looked. He finally went towards the direction that Jericho wanted to, and just as the small man approached the limp corpse of his friend, Jericho made a pounce from the top of the tree, and landed on the smaller man, pushing the small knife to his throat.

“Where’s my family, and why are you working for?!” Jericho snarled at the man. The

man was confused, with fear in his eyes. Jericho knew that the man was cracking under this ten-year old’s malicious, furious eyes.

“I-I I work for the mafia boss in this area who wants to kick out people in this district!” the man spluttered. “As for your family, we just... delivered them...”

“Why did he tell you to do this?!” Jericho screamed at the man, frightening him.

“I don’t know! I was just told to do this! It’s my job!” The man replied, clearly shaken.

“Where is he?! tell me!” Jericho yelled again.

“At the end of the slums, in his hideout with his men!” The man replied. Jericho, extracting all of the information that he wanted out of it, he slit the man’s throat, letting his blood flow onto the streets of the slum district.

Jericho stalked towards the hideout of the man, racing through the streets in anticipation of ridding Sao Paulo of this terrible man.

Around 2 hours later, Jericho saw the hut that he knew was the boss’s hut, as it was fronted by two armed thugs. Jericho was about to rush in angrily, but he paced himself first, stopping himself, knowing again, that a direct confrontation would be really bad for him.

Jericho crept around to the back of the hut, looking around for the amount of threat that he might encounter, suppressing his intent and carrying on on more sensibility instead of hate. From a back window, he counted around 5 men, including the boss of the gang, sitting on a comfortable leather swiveling chair, while his men sat on a couch in the corner. The room itself was no bigger than most huts, just around 20 square meters, but was built by firmer material. On the ceiling hung a dinghy lightbulb, adding a dark atmosphere to the room. Jericho observed and took note of a pistol holstered in the boss’ pocket.

Jericho retired from the back window and formulated a plan to dispatch these men. He thought about how easily the two men earlier had torn about his hut: by attacking the gaps in foundation. Jericho retreated around the hut, looking for cracks or weak spots in its outer part. At last, he found a weak spot in the wall; an opening between the placing of two aluminum boards that made up the house. Jericho jammed his baseball bat at a 70 degree angle, and pushed downwards to widen the gap, and ran as the hut collapsed, hiding behind an adjacent hut. As the two men went to check out what was going on in the rubble, Jericho took advantage of the situation and charged forward, bringing his fist

down on the neck of the first man, and bringing out his knife to stab the second one in the stomach, bringing him down swiftly as the boss of the gang and his other two bodyguards rose from the wreckage. Jericho surged forwards and quickly brought down the butt of his knife onto one of the bodyguard’s temple, and smashed his fist into the other bodyguard’s stomach, bringing him down in a quick yet effective way. Now there was only the boss.

The boss, still confused from the collapse, was quickly gaining his bearings. Jericho wouldn’t allow this to happen, and rushed up to him, tackled him, knocking the gun out of his hand, and pushed the sharp side of the switchblade to his throat. A small trickle of blood dripped from where Jericho put the blade, and the drops coursed onto the floor.

“What do you want, boy.” The boss spat in his face “You come to my hut, tear it down, kill my men, and for what?”

“You tore down my home, kidnapped my family, and I want to know why you would do such a thing!” Jericho Yelled into the man’s face, and pressed the switchblade harder into his neck.

The man calmly composed himself, and took a deep breath, taking in the world around him. In front of him he saw a stubborn unintelligent boy, unknowing of the ways of this world. He shook his head in shame, and spoke to him.

“My name is Simone Caruso, and I’m the gang boss in this area. My men repossess land because your family has offended the rules. Your father disturbed my men as well when he was drunk, and he’s deep in debt with us. It leads us to this conclusion. We also know that he’s gone, but you’re still deep in debt, so it comes to this.” He relayed this to Jericho, who stayed silent.

“Does that justify ruining my family’s life? Do you have no compassion?” Jericho replied coldly, his eyes unblinkingly staring into Simone’s.

“Child, do you think that I control everything in this district? Foolish thinking, this is just one of the sources of income for those corrupt politicians. Personally, I work for Pablo Galdikas.” Jericho had heard of Pablo Galdikas before. He was a politician, in support of the impoverished. What a joke. His recent campaign was to run for welfare, and Jericho spat on the ground as he thought of the irony.

“Tell me where he is” Jericho questioned Simone.

“I only see you as a foolish, naive child who thinks he can take down someone like Pablo Galdikas with the power that he has. Idiot” Simone looked at him with a mixture of condescension and pity in his gaze.

“Tell me... Where... He... Is” Jericho’s voice seethed as he spat out the words into Simone’s face. In spite of this anger, Simone simply shook his head. “I can tell you where he is, but I know what you’re planning, and I know you’ll never succeed.” Simone simply stated. “He’s simply too powerful. I’ve seen angry naive people like you try and fail, again and again. It’s not the first time I’ve been in this situation, but I must say you’re one of the angrier ones”. Jericho’s eyes held strong into Simone’s, boring a hole into his existence. “Fine, don’t say I didn’t warn you. He’s usually in his homestead around this time. He’ll be there for the rest of the day.”

Jericho thought this over. He decided to go anyways, in spite of Simone’s warnings. He would wait until it became late in the evening, then he would strike. He began walking towards the building.

Jericho stopped. His eyes, flashed, and he looked towards the loose end, that might warn Galdikas. He turned around and walked towards Simone, his eyes fixated on him. He quickened his pace, and broke into a run, and fixated his knife by his side. Simone saw the look on his eyes, and scrambled to run as he realized Jericho’s intention, but he was too late. As he ran up, he plunged the switchblade into Simone’s back, as Simone breathed his last breath of air, and fell to the ground.

The sun was setting over the horizon, and Jericho knew he had a lot of time before he would meet Pablo Galdikas. He began walking towards the street where he knew he resided.

As the night fell, Jericho reached the large mansion of Pablo Galdikas, and decided to rest and wait until the middle of the night, when he would strike. He snuck into a hole and curled up into a ball with the gun he stole from Simone. He woke again, observing his surroundings. Around him, the night had descended on the mansion. He rose up, wary of the cameras around him, and stalked towards the mansion in a crouched position.

The shadows played to Jericho’s advantage as he could hide in them as the cameras passed over the spot in which he hid. He ran towards the side wall of the mansion, and climbed onto some vines growing on the side of the wall, leaping from handhold to foothold, gracefully making it up to the third floor’s balcony, where he saw a bedroom. He climbed onto the balcony, and quietly swung open the door to reveal a bedroom.

Jericho stopped where he was, wary of his surroundings. From the luxurious look of the room, Jericho assumed it was probably galdikas’ bedroom. As he crept towards the bed, he recalled the recent news that Pablo Galdikas had a divorce, so that he was currently alone in his house, and he was happy that he could go about this undisturbed, a conflict between men.

Creeping up to the bed, Jericho quickly grabbed the top of the blanket with one hand, and in a swift motion, grabbed the blanket, and threw it off. Unfortunately, where the lump was, was simply a bundle of pillows. The sound of clapping from across the room forced Jericho to turn his head.

“You’re not bad, compared to the others” Pablo Galdikas chuckled as he raised a pistol aimed towards Jericho’s head. “Now put your weapons on the floor.” Jericho put only his gun on the floor, but concealed his knife. As Pablo Galdikas walked over, Jericho got a good look at him, and he thought he looked quite a lot like he did on television. He was lean, and around 40, with a slight combover towards the right. He was dressed in collared pajamas, made of fine fabric. He kicked Jericho in the mouth, forcing him to fall on his back, clutching it as it bled.

Jericho recovered, and brought his knife out, slashing at Pablo’s leg, but he smoothly jumped backwards, dodging the attack, and kicked Jericho in the stomach this time, and hit him on the back of the head with the butt of his pistol, and Jericho blacked out.

Jericho came to his senses in a bright room, illuminated by many large lights on the ceiling. He observed his surroundings. The room had a chair, which he was sitting on, and a table. Across from him, was Pablo Galdikas.

“Good. You’ve come to. Now tell me, who do you work for?” Pablo Galdikas smoothly began the conversation so fluidly that Jericho became slightly frightened of this man’s powers of persuasion, and made a mental note of himself to be wary.

“I don’t work for anyone. I’m only here for revenge, and I want to know where you took my family!” Jericho yelled at Pablo, his hands still behind his head. Pablo responded by kicking him in the stomach, making him curl over yet again. Jericho responded with a strong-willed look as he spit on the rug. “Now tell me, where they went”

Pablo stared at him passively, lacking any emotions in his gaze at Jericho. He paced around Jericho, unrelenting in his stare as he did so. After around 2 minutes of this, he stopped. Jericho felt his heart pounding as he felt the most base emotion that anyone will feel in their lifetime: fear.

“So, you don’t work for anyone, huh.” Pablo spoke, in a much more sinister, different voice than he usually spoke with on television.

“No,” Jericho spat out “I’m just here for my family, and I wanted you to tell me, whatever the cost, you vile scum.” Pablo, upon hearing this, broke into laughter at the very word, as if it was preposterous.

“Vile scum. Me, vile scum?” Pablo laughed at the very thought. His tone changed, and his laughter became a harsh sneer “YOU DARE to call ME VILE SCUM?!” His tone changed again.

“Okay, child-” Pablo Began.

“Jericho. My name’s Jericho”

“Okay, Jericho” Pablo mockingly taunted. “Let me ask you, how many people did you attack or threaten to get here?” Jericho paused for a long time, unwilling to meet Pablo’s eyes. “My point exactly. Well, on another side. Have you learned your lesson?”

“NO. Until I can stand no more, I shall not relent. Now tell me where my family is!” Jericho’s voice began to escalate as his anger grew inside of him. He began to thrash about wildly in his chair, trying to escape.

“You want to know where your family is, you impudent boy? Well, they’re right here.” He pressed a button, and the wall in front of Jericho opened to a sight that he could not avert his eyes to, yet the very sight of the limp and dead bodies of his family made him slump over in his chair, sobbing openly as he grieved for their deaths at the hand of this cruel man. “Now have you learned your lesson?” Jericho looked up at Pablo, a burning anger in his eyes.

“I will not stop. I will not stop, until you are erased off of the face of this planet!” Jericho screamed in Pablo’s face. Pablo stayed emotionless, but fire danced in his eyes.

“Well, that’s a problem, isn’t it” Pablo walked around Jericho’s chair, grinning as he did so, which greatly unnerved Jericho. He was almost completely sure this man was insane. But the problem was, Pablo knew he was insane, and the fact that he did made him different from any other psychopath. The look in his eyes frightened Jericho, and both Jericho and Pablo knew it. Pablo walked up close to Jericho, but to his surprise: left the room. Jericho relaxed for a small moment, until he saw a masked man with an axe come into the room, with Pablo in tow.

“I must say Jericho, you may become a powerful threat if i let you live. But in my kindness, I will let you live” His eyes flashed. “But in fear. I will take away your right leg, and it will remind you every day ‘never, and i mean NEVER, attack Pablo galdikas’. Got it?”. Jericho’s pupils dilated as the man held his leg in place, and raised his axe. He blacked out.

Chapter 3

Jericho woke up with a numb, dull pain in his leg, and he tested it, to realize that: it was gone. He let out a scream of horror.

“Please shut up.” The sudden voice made Jericho leap. He looked in the direction of the voice, seeing a woman in her 20s, driving in the seat next to his. He looked outside, and realized that the woman was driving a car, a van to be exact. Jericho relaxed, as the woman turned on the radio, and he calmed himself mentally, as he watched the fast dodging lights of Sao Paulo’s streets as the van whisked more into the more suburban areas.

In around an hour, Jericho and the woman reached their destination. Jericho got out of the car, and tripped, forgetting that he was now without a leg. The woman came around and helped him up, and gave him a crutch from the back of her van.

“I picked this up before I picked you up. Hi, I’m Isabella.” Isabella introduced herself. Jericho decided to trust her now, but his guard was still up. “Come, follow me” Isabella beckoned to Jericho, and he followed her into the mansion.

As they went into the Mansion, Jericho took in the scene. The Mansion was quite deceiving from the outside. The mansion probably had once been beautiful, but now it was dirty, and there was technology, food containers, and dirty dishes strewn about the place. The walls were bare, yet clean to some extent, but showed a lot of wear and tear from the inhabitants of the mansion. Isabella directed Jericho to a chair beside a rectangular wooden table, where they sat down adjacent to each other.

“So, I hear your name is Jericho” Isabella broke the silence.

“How do you know that?” Jericho reached for his knife, but realized that he had none. He decided that his crutch would be the best weapon at hand, and he gripped it tightly.

“Relax, Jericho. I’m not your enemy” Isabella reasoned with Jericho, seeing the confusion in his eyes. “I want to make you my ally. We must unite, and take on the bane of Sao Paulo, Pablo Galdikas.”

“Me? Why me? You saw how I failed miserably, and now... this” He pointed to where his right leg used to be.

“You misunderstand. Pablo Galdikas finds tons of these so called assassins often. Usually, one would turn them in, or kill them, if cruel or insane enough. But Pablo is on a whole other level; he will murder anyone who doesn’t show much tenacity or potential. But the ones who pose the most threat to him, he dismembers.” Isabella told this story with a cold grimace.

She rolled up her shirt sleeve to show Jericho her right arm, or what had been there. In the place of her arm, a prosthetic had been placed, and it showed a degree of technological advancement, with some visible circuitry. Isabella raised her prosthetic right arm and flexed her fingers out, and contracted them. A long silence ensued. Eventually, Isabella stopped staring at her arm, and talked to Jericho.

“But...” she paused. “After the dismemberment, most of the ones left alive go... insane, and I’m one of the few, and It seems that you’re still okay, mentally. So, if you’re still up to the task, I want you to help me get rid of Pablo Galdikas. Are you up to it?” Jericho pondered the idea in his mind. As he thought, the torturous memories of Pablo, and the corpses of his family returned to his mind, and he clutched his head. Fear washed over the entirety of his mind, and spread to his body, making him shiver. But there was a tiny spark in him, that ignited an equally powerful movement: anger. He looked up at Isabella with determination.

“I see the power in your eyes. Good, now i’ll teach you.” Isabella smirked, then beckoned for Jericho to follow.

“Wait.” Jericho’s words paused her “I want to know your reason for attacking Pablo Galdikas. If it’s just, or if you’re as bad as he is.” Jericho’s eyes drilled into Isabella’s and they locked eye contact for a while. Isabella sat back down, as did Jericho.

“Fine, I’ll tell you my story. Honestly, my background was basically the opposite of yours. I’ve researched yours. Drunken drug dealer of a father, died 5 years ago, left you in charge of your mother and sister. Your life has been hard since, with you and your mother working yourself bare to provide for the family. Me on the other hand, I was born under a wealthy family, and didn’t have to work much in my life if I didn’t want to. But, Pablo Galdikas killed my father. My father was a politician as well, and he was rising in ranks around 10 years ago. It was the closest that anyone had ever gotten to usurping Pablo Galdikas from his political power. So, Pablo took the easy way out: an unplanned murder, no ties were found.” She paused again, looking out into space, and her eyes got watery. She wiped them away, and continued her story.

“But anyways, I knew for sure it was Pablo Galdikas, because I saw the assassin who creeped into my father’s room while he was slipping out, and I saw him get into a car with Pablo Galdika’s license plate and car model. But no matter what, the police wouldn’t believe me because the assassin also erased the security footage. So I took matters into my own hands. Honestly, I wasn’t new to guns, because I was actually in a gun club at the time, so I took a sniper to Pablo Galdika’s mansion, around 100m away, looking into his bedroom window, but there was a decoy. As soon as the bullet hit a decoy, his soldier found me, and cuffed me, probably to the same chair as me. He basically uses the same tactics on everyone. Repetitive, but effective, so like

you, I had to suffer seeing the dead corpse of my mother which Pablo hunted down in my absence, and... this” She looked at her prosthetic.

Jericho looked at Isabella. In her, he saw himself; someone who feels completely alone in the world, with the most powerful person in Sao Paulo as their enemy.

“Come now, let’s go.” Isabella stood up and beckoned to Jericho.

“Go where?” Jericho asked.

“Going to get you one of these” Isabella grinned while holding up her arm. Jericho, now excited to finally get himself back up on his feet, was excited to go. Isabella stopped at the fireplace, and pushed into a wall adjacent, which opened ajar to reveal a staircase leading downwards. Jericho followed Isabella’s lead down the staircase, which opened up into a hidden base of sorts.

On one side of the wall, there was a bunch of cameras, and recording devices, along with a bunch of TV screens which showed many places. On another side was a whole bunch of weapons, melee and ranged alike, were set up hanging or by the wall. On the last side, there was a bed with a whole bunch of medical equipment like syringes, monitors for heart rate, and the like right next to it.

“Lie down on the bed” Isabella gestured to the bed in the corner with the medical equipment. Jericho hobbled over, and lay down on the bed.

“Okay, first we’re going to have to do something quite painful for you, and that’s burning your leg, so that it heals itself, and seals the wound. Then, I’m going to attach a prosthetic.” Jericho cringed as he thought of the things to come in the near future. But, that was simply a small part of his body; the rest was aching in anticipation of the great power that he would gain in exchange.

“Let’s begin, I’m ready” Jericho muttered, ready for the pain to come.

“Well, hold still,” Isabella grinned, and plunged a syringe into Jericho before he could react. In almost no time, he felt his limbs going limp, and he drifted into sleep.

When he awoke, he excitedly swiveled his feet off the floor, and he saw the mechanism. It was a work of modern technology, pulsating with energy and power. Jericho tried to test it out, and stood on his legs equally with pressure, but as soon as he did, his leg lost power and he fell to the ground with a grunt. Isabella walked into the room, and seeing him on the floor, sighed in exasperation. She went over to Jericho, and grabbed him by the arm, and pulled him up, sighing as she did so.

“I forgot to tell you, your nerves haven’t fully assimilated into the prosthetic. This prosthetic has complex nerve connectors, which connected with the nerves from the remains of your right leg. The problem is, it’s not complete with the assimilation, so if you put strain on the prosthetic, it’ll crash and fail, which was what happened here,” Isabella gestured to Jericho, then at the floor.

“Dang it, well how long is it going to take before it fully assimilates?” Jericho asked

“Around a month,” Isabella replied.

“What,” Jericho exclaimed “I can’t wait that long, we’ve got to attack Pablo Galdikas, now”

“Relax, relax,” Isabella calmed Jericho “Even if your leg healed right now, we’d still have to wait around a year before attacking Pablo Galdikas.”

“A year?” Jericho exclaimed “I can’t possibly wait that long!”

“Well, you’ll have to, or you’re just going to get that other leg sawn off too. Trust me, you don’t want that,” Isabella advised “Not only that, but I plan to train you in the art of assassination.”

“Really?” Jericho spoke excitedly “You’re going to train me? In what?”

“In just about any assassination skill: stealth, firearms, close combat, etc. But only after you’ve healed,” Isabella’s eyes flashed as a warning, and Jericho heeded her message.

Months, and then 2 years passed. When he came out of the training with Isabella, he was a man. A powerful man, trained in the art of murder, ruthless and without a conscience. He felt strength coursing throughout him, and his previously lanky body was replaced with powerful lean muscle from a combination of weight and aerobic training.

“Well well well, I can see we’re ready,” Isabella appeared from behind him. “Now, are you ready for your revenge?”

“Born ready,” Jericho replied.

“Well, now that we’re ready, we’re going to have to track him down,” Isabella explained. “Since he was revealed for some human trafficking scandal, he was sentenced in court, but disappeared into the jungles of Brazil, with only himself and some guards.”

“Hmm, we should get started soon. Let’s begin with his friends.”

Chapter 4

As the van came to a sudden stop, Jericho was shaken back to reality. Isabella, who took over the wheel around 2 hours ago, drove the car into a circle in the driveway, and pressed a button on her watch, which activated the circle’s mechanism, and it began to drop slowly, until they were in the basement garage. During his training days, Jericho had learned about the basement garage. It was a bit like the secret base that he had seen when he first met Isabella, but more orderly. The basement garage was about 30 meters squared, and Isabella made full use of that space. Their van was parked behind them with a motorcycle, as the mechanical circle rose up by itself. There contained a plethora of weapons on where their right from where they were walking, on the left was the experimental technology that Isabella experimented on in her spare time. The technology included experimental weapons, vehicles, and general powerful, yet useful technology.

They paced toward the final wall, which was a wall covered in monitors, with information, camera views, etc. They sat down on two swivel chairs, and began to recount and take down the information that they gained that day.

“Sorry, but the target got away,” Jericho apologetically said.

“Yeah, I saw that, I’m pretty sure the entire block did. Vinicius Gabriano, the 10th richest man in Sao Paulo, jumping out of his skyscraper window, most would notice, genius,” Isabella sarcastically explained.

“Sorry about that...” Jericho sheepishly said. But he quickly composed himself. “More importantly, we have to focus on finding Pablo Galdikas.”

“Well, judging from the information that we extracted from his colleagues, we basically rounded the area that he’s in to around a square kilometer or so, within the north part of the Amazon Forest,” Isabella relayed “Well, let’s go scouting.”

Before long, Jericho found himself bouncing along in a jeep as Isabella drove the two of them to the part of the Amazon Forest that they planned to do recon in. As they reached within 2 kilometers of the planned area, they got of their jeep, and began trekking.

“Ok, we’re on the borderline into the kilometer where we tracked him to,” Isabella said, looking at a satellite GPS.

“Good, on my thermal binoculars, I see around 5 heat signatures within a 100 meter radius. Let’s go take them out,” Jericho ran quickly, leaving Isabella behind.

“What? Take them out?” Isabella exclaimed. “Wait, Jericho, wait!”

Jericho ran into the jungle at breakneck speed, yet with a catlike grace as he sauntered through the jungle, being wary of each twig and branch above and below. Isabella followed, leaping with the same catlike movements, but at a slower, more cautious pace.

Jericho saw the first man through his thermal binocular, and ran up behind him, and utilizing the element of surprise, tackled his midsection, pinning him down. He grabbed his army knife out, and before Isabella could stop him, plunged the knife into the guard’s neck.

“Jericho, stop being so haphazard!” Isabella reprimanded “Remember your training; always look at an indirect approach. Also, you didn’t have to kill this man!”

“He deserved to die. Anyone affiliated with Pablo Galdikas should deserve to die,” Jericho growled, while looking at the corpse of the man with the eyes of a predator, which scared even Isabella. Before she could respond, Jericho rushed off to his next target, disappearing into the undergrowth.

Isabella quickly bolted after him, but Jericho’s speed and strength outweighed hers, and he sprinted into the jungle, leaving her in the dust. To catch after him, she put on the thermal binoculars, and saw a heat signature, presumably racing towards another target, away from... a dying heat signal. Isabella sighed in a mix of worry and annoyance directed at Jericho, and raced after the fast heat signature, and the heat signature it was headed to.

But when she got to the opening, she only found the corpse of a guard covered in his own blood. She swore, and put on the thermal binoculars, and saw no heat signals other than the one racing inwards from the border. She quickly followed, attempting to catch up. As the heat signal ran, it dispatched other heat signals, and those crumpled and fell, beginning to lose body heat. Isabella was worried that Jericho would expose himself, but more that he would do that on purpose.

After around thirty minutes of following the heat signal, Isabella spotted a large land mass of heat up ahead. She took off the binoculars for a small moment, and saw a simple cement building in the middle of the jungle, with what looked like thick distorted bulletproof windows, and a titanium door. She momentarily put her thermal goggles back on, and seeing a heat signature, ran towards it to see Jericho staring up at the cement building, while staying in the undergrowth. Isabella raced towards him, and grabbed by the collar, dragging him back deeper into the undergrowth. At a safe distance, she finally let his collar go, and he sat on the ground, gasping for breath.

“You idiot!” Isabella reprimanded Jericho “Do you know the kind of trouble you could have gotten yourself into?! Pablo could have found you, and killed you if you kept going on with your warpath of wreckage and murder!”

“But, I want to take down Pablo!” Jericho exclaimed, spreading his arms out in frustration.

“Have you completely forgotten what this mission was for? We were doing recon, not murder-time!” Isabella yelled, frustrated beyond her own comprehension.

“Well, how can you not take this opportunity! The man who wronged us, yet got away with it, is probably sitting right there in that base!” Jericho snapped back, and he began to walk. At that point, Isabella decided to take extreme measures. She took out a controller from her belt, and pressed a large button on it, and Jericho’s leg lost power, and he tripped.

“What happened! My leg’s gone numb!” Jericho yelped in surprise.

“Relax. I simply turned it off. There’s a manual and remote override that I install in my machines. I just used that override on your leg, causing it to fail.” Isabella explained. “Jericho, I understand how you feel. I’m currently trying very hard to restrain myself, but we need to be ready when we take on Pablo.”

Jericho, upon hearing this, calmed himself, and he composed his thoughts. After thinking it through rationally, he decided.

“Fine, you’re right, now let’s go back to base, and come up with a good plan to take on Pablo instead.” Jericho agreed, and turned around to trudge back to the car with Isabella, walking past the dead corpses, which Jericho knew they deserved, yet a little doubt tugged at the back of his mind, but he shook it off. These men were murderers, takers of life. But then he looked down at his own hands, contemplating what exactly he was.

“Jericho,” Isabella called. Her voice shook him out of his train of thought, and he realized that he had stopped while trekking, and was simply staring down at his hands.

“Jericho, are you okay?” Isabella asked, with a worried look on her face. She had stopped and they were both standing in the middle of the jungle “Come on, we have to go. Pablo Galdika’s men will find the bodies soon.”

“Y-Yeah, let’s go,” Jericho stuttered. If this bothered Isabella, she didn’t show it. They began going at a regular pace, until a shrill sound broke the serenity of the jungle; an alarm. Shouts of guards soon followed, getting closer with each second. Isabella and Jericho sprinted towards the location of their vehicles, running for their lives.

The guards’ shouting seemed to diminish as they sprinted on and on, but another group of thermal signals appeared on Isabella’s thermal radar, so

she dashed to the right, and ran a curve around the guard group, but they were too close, and one of them spotted them, and shouted. The guards began to follow Isabella and Jericho as they continued sprinting towards the direction of their jeep.

After around 10 minutes, Isabella and Jericho had at least 50 guards running after them through the jungle, but they had reached where they hid their jeep. With no time left, they flung off the leaves they used to hid the jeep, climbed on, and revved the engine. The jeep hummed with power, and drove off at full speed, with Isabella pressing her foot with all her strength on the gas pedal, and guards behind them, giving chase with their own jeeps. The guards that weren’t driving brought out automatic rifles and began firing at them. Jericho and Isabella both ducked, feeling the air pressure distort as the bullets whipped over their backs.

“Damn it! Stupid guards!” Isabella cursed. She reached into the glove compartment, and pulled out a grenade. “Throw this,” she said to Jericho.

Jericho pulled the pin on the grenade, and aimed. His internal clock ticked: three, two, one. He threw the grenade, and just as it perfectly landed in the lead jeep, it exploded, blowing the front of the jeep into smithereens, and the back careened into the second jeep, and it created a roadblock for any following jeeps, and the burning wreckage piled upon each other as the jeeps continued to crash.

“Yes,” Isabella cheered with a smug smile, and drove on, headed for their base once again.

In about a few hours, they arrived back at the mansion, but as a precaution, they drove for another kilometer, and stopped. Just as they stopped and got out, mercenaries emerged from the houses across the street from where they parked, and formed a semicircle. Each of them were armed with top-grade military armor, and were wielding an assault rifle.

Unfortunately for the guards, Jericho and Isabella were already prepared for such a threat. They quickly dived behind the vehicle, using it for cover. The mercenaries decided to circle around the jeep, and threw a concussion grenade just over the jeep, and as it exploded, they rushed in. But behind the jeep, they found nothing but a sewer grate, which they decided to rush down.

Right as the first mercenary landed on the ground of the sewer tunnel, he stepped on a tripwire. Before he could even react, explosives in the sewage tunnel detonated, bathing the mercenaries in an unbearable heat.

Around 100 feet over, Jericho still felt the explosion’s heat at his back as he and Isabella began walking in the direction of their mansion.

“Come on, let’s quicken the pace,” Jericho urged, worried about any mercenaries that would survive.

“Relax, Jericho. Any mercenary that survived that blast would be seriously incapacitated,” Isabella scoffed, reading Jericho’s tone. Nonetheless, she quickened her pace slightly, just to be safe.

Before long, Isabella stopped, and brought out a remote from her belt, pressing a few buttons. Instantly, a the wall slid apart to reveal a stairway ascending to the garage. They quickly walked up the staircase as the doors slid closed behind them, erasing any trace that they had been there at all.

Jericho tiredly plopped down on a swiveling chair as Isabella brought them some coffee. They sat in silence for some time, neither side willing to break the ice.

“I’m sorry,” Jericho apologized, halting the silence. “I shouldn’t have been so brash and rushed in. It’s just that whenever I think about Pablo, I get this murderous rush, this incredible rage unfurls inside of me.”

“I understand your sentiments, but I’m speaking as your friend as well. When you lose control over your emotions as an assassin, it could result in your death, and it would have been mainly your own fault.” Isabella explained, trying to reason with Jericho. Jericho nodded his head slowly, acknowledging his failure.

“Cheer up,” Isabella tried to console Jericho. “These things can be ironed out eventually as you grow as a person, and as an assassin.”

“We don’t have much time,” Jericho sighed in exasperation. “Pablo and his men are going to find a new location when they discover the bodies that I dispatched,” He threw his hands up in the air as a display of his frustration, and began pacing around the table where they were sitting.

Isabella couldn’t stand Jericho when he was this way. He would eventually just sit down and give up, but until then, he would simply sigh and walk around without aim.

“Wait Jericho,” Isabella stopped him by raising her hand. Jericho stopped, listening to whatever plan Isabella might propose. “Pablo could move very quickly,” She paused as she said this, contemplating the idea in her head. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Jericho couldn’t believe his ears. The preposterous idea of not taking charge with this opportunity was alien to him.

“Why wouldn’t we do such a thing?” Jericho shouted, clearly angered at his mentor’s reluctance. “Pablo will move again, and it will have to be years

before we could track him down again! We may never have an opportunity like this again!”

“Well, we would still have the opportunity if you weren’t so headstrong, rushing straight into battle without a single regard for anyone’s life!” Isabella shouted in retaliation, which surprised Jericho. “But now, he’ll find the dead bodies, and either escape, or set a trap for you to fall into!” Isabella shut her eyes and rubbed her temples as she felt a headache.

“Look at it this way Jericho,” Isabella spoke in a much softer tone. “You’re just far too inexperienced for this right now. It would be better for us to bide our time so you can learn about controlling your feelings.”

After listening to Isabella’s reasoning, Jericho felt conflicted inside. Should he listen to Isabella’s advice or follow his path for revenge, no matter the cost? Jericho’s feelings conflicted as his thoughts struggled between safety and his ultimate desire.

Jericho stood up from his chair as his decision was made, and did something that he didn’t like. Before Isabella could react, Jericho did a quick punch at Isabella’s forehead, quickly knocking her out. Before she could wake up, Jericho gathered a bunch of weapons from some of the hanging racks, and got on one of the motorcycle laying against the wall. Having done this many times before, Jericho revved up the motorcycle and drove towards the circle, which began to rotate towards the surface.

Once above the surface, he ignited the internal combustion engine to it’s full power, letting the bicycle splutter to life. Without long, the mansion was a speck in the distance as Jericho rode towards his self-realization.

Alas, in spite of Jericho’s guilt as he had hurt his friend and mentor, he hoped that Isabella would understand. This was what he had lived his life for, to take vengeance on Pablo Galdikas for what he had done to Jericho and his family. But now was not the right time to think of guilt and these sort of feelings. He accelerated the motorcycle and sped through the streets of Sao Paulo as the sun began to set over the mountains.

Chapter 5

The motorcycle sped into the darkening Amazon Forest as the last hours of daylight were fading away. Jericho saw the blinking blip on his radar of where he marked Pablo Galdika’s hideout, only 1 kilometer away. Remembering his training, Jericho slowed down and decided to proceed on foot towards the hideout.

Jericho hid his motorcycle behind some trees and undergrowth that was common in the Amazon Forest. Afterwards, he chose a small armory from the back of his motorcycle. He decided to take his dual silenced pistols, a few grenades, and a knife for close quarters combat if necessary. Holding the knife in one hand and a pistol in the other, Jericho slinked into the dark Amazon Forest, as quietly as possible.

Right after entering the forest, the first thing that Jericho noticed was that there were already twice the guards that there were the last time he was here. He crept up behind the closest two guards, and plunged the knife in his hand into the guard’s neck, killing him instantly, as he punched the other guard in the side of his head, giving him a concussion as he killed him as well. Jericho quickly hid the bodies in a nearby bush as he prepped for his next targets, as he remembered one of his first teachings.

Jericho’s memories transported him to one of his older memories, when he first met Isabella, and she was teaching him the principles of assassination.

“Jericho, when you’re an assassin, you always have to stick to the shadows, and avoid encounters that you can avoid”. Jericho looked at the corpses, remembering his first lessons with a tinge of guilt. “Also,” the Isabella in his memory continued. “You should avoid killing people unless it’s really necessary.”

Jericho grabbed his head in agitation and shook it vigorously, trying to forget these memories of guilt. Hearing voices from his right, he decided to move on towards Pablo’s hideout.

As Jericho walked, he noticed the sky above him fully darken as night settled, and decided that this would be the time to speed across and strike, as Pablo would probably expect him to attack in the middle of the night, instead of just after dusk. Jericho quickly brought out his night vision goggles, and began to dart towards the hideout.

Jericho was now within 20 meters of the hideout, and decided on a more aggressive approach as he brought out his pistols. First, he would have to take out the lookouts so they wouldn’t sound any alarms or alert Pablo. Up on the roof, two guards paced around on the roof, only around 15 meters

apart. Jericho would have to use an opportunity, a small relenting of attention from one guard.

Without long, his opportunity came as one of the guards spoke into his walkie-talkie, most likely giving some sort of a report. Jericho quickly dispatched the second guard with a quick shot. Just as the first guard got off the walkie talkie, a bullets found it’s mark on his head.

With the lookouts out of Jericho’s way, he decided to take his assault from the roof. He quickly climbed up an adjacent tree to the hideout, and bounded onto the roof in a graceful leap. To his right was a hatch leading downwards to the main room of the building. As the building composed of only 1 story in plain sight, Jericho determined that there was probably an underground part.

Jericho quickly opened the hatch, and brought out a grenade from his pocket. Instinct kicked in as he pulled the pin, and waited for the grenade’s timer to count down, leaving only a second for the guards to notice. He quickly threw the grenade down the hatch and closed it, bracing for an explosion. The grenade exploded nearly instantaneously, and Jericho leaped in quickly. Around him, it seemed like the grenade had basically done all that was necessary, judging from the few telltale corpses laying around the room.

From the naked eye, Jericho judged that the room was only 20 meters squared, and around the same area as the entire building. So, Jericho began to look for clues about Pablo on the dead bodies, or Pablo himself. Unfortunately, he came up with nothing except some sort of access key on a senior guard. There didn’t seem to be any sort of insert console, so he would have to break in by force. He paced around, thinking about any sort of way to find Pablo , wherever he was hiding.

Just as Jericho thought he had reached the end of the ropes, he heard a creak as he stepped on a certain tile on the floor. Hearing this, he quickly got on all fours and pressed his ear up against the floor, and rapped on the floor tile with his knuckle. Hearing a slight echo with the rapping meant that it was thinner than the rest, and was probably some sort of trap door towards the underground portion of the hideout.

What Jericho needed now was some powerful explosives to get through the floor, and looked around for some. There seemed to be no weapons, until he opened a supply closet, and found the motherlode of the guard’s weapons. The closet was stocked with the latest assault rifles, machine guns, and most importantly, pounds upon pounds of C4 for the taking.

Jericho placed 2 packs of C4 on where he felt the floor was thinner, held the activator, and got as far away as he could from it. When he was around 10 meters away from it, he pressed the activator, and braced as the plastic explosive detonated, destroying anything within a 2 meter radius.

Where the floor tiles once stood, there was a gaping hole around 7 meters deep into the earth. Jericho found a length of rope from the supply closet, tied it to a desk, and lowered himself, headfirst into the gaping hole. Eventually, the tunnel opened up into a much larger room, around 40 squard meters. But as soon as he lowered his head through the tunnel opening, bullets began flying through the air towards him. Jericho felt the bullets whiz by as he quickly pulled himself up a bit more, and began climbing up.

Unfortunately, the guards would already be closing on the tunnel, ready to open fire on him. So, it would be a gamble because of the fragments, but he threw a grenade down the tunnel as he climbed. The grenade coursed through the air, it’s timer ticking, and landed at the guards’ feet just as they got to the opening of the tunnel. Jericho timed it so that when it landed, the guards would have no time to react before it explodes.

Jericho hugged the wall as the grenade exploded, a mere 4 meters below him. Unfortunately, fragments embedded themselves into Jericho’s leg and shoulder, causing him to cry out in pain. He tried to forget his pain, and slowly lowered himself down the rope as he gritted his teeth.

He reached the bottom after what felt like an eternity. Looking around the 40 meter space, there was only one door, so he naturally headed towards it, one hand on his leg, the other on his pistol.

As Jericho hobbled towards the door, he noticed an access console beside the door, and quickly took out the access card from his pocket. After sliding the card through the reading port, the door slid open to reveal an office, which Jericho hobbled into. Behind a desk on the opposite side of the room, a chair swiveled around to reveal Jericho’s mortal enemy, the man he had been chasing for so long.

Pablo rose out of his chair, sporting the same evil smirk that he had years ago. In his right hand, he held a walking stick, and slowly paced towards Jericho with the same air of condescension that he always had.

“Well well, look who it is,” Pablo snickered. “The little boy whose family I killed. Well, looks like you’re back for more, child.”

“You. I’ve been waiting for this for years!” Jericho snarled at Pablo “I’ve trained with Isabella, and learned how to kill you properly this time!” Pablo gave him a look, and loudly laughed as a reaction towards his condition.

“Well, how the heck would you kill me like this!” Pablo asked Jericho, and smacked his walking stick into the back of Jericho’s head. Jericho instantaneously fell to the floor, already weakened by the shrapnel stuck inside him. Pablo proceeded to kick Jericho roughly without mercy, and beat him with his walking stick while laughing maniacally.

For what felt like hours, Pablo continued his frenzied assault on Jericho until he ran out of breath, and stood with his hands on his knees, panting. Jericho quickly took charge of this opportunity and bit Pablo in the ankle, causing him to howl in pain and fall to the ground too. Jericho now had the advantage, and he crawled onto Pablo and sat on his chest.

“How does this feel, huh?!” Jericho screamed in his face as he began to punch Pablo repeatedly in his face. He continued to scream words that didn’t make sense to himself, as the blood on his own face dripped onto Pablo’s.

After repeated punches to Pablo’s face, Jericho couldn’t even recognize it. Jericho finally got up, and went to pick up the pistol that he had dropped on the floor when Pablo hit him with the stick earlier. He walked over to Pablo’s body on the ground, and pointed the barrel of the gun at him. Pablo barely had enough strength in him to raise his arm in a feeble attempt to protect himself.

“Please, I beg of you, mercy,” Pablo begged, clearly scared of Jericho from his beating. Jericho laughed at the irony of the situation.

“So, you just lose all your nerve whenever you’re in a bad situation, you coward,” Jericho scoffed. “Well, you’re going to an even worse place. Hell.”

“No, no!” Pablo backed up from Jericho in fear, trying to escape. Jericho stopped him by stepping on his chest, and pinned him down. Pablo met his eyes with a look of fear, but Jericho only had scorn and hate in his eyes.

“Well, we’ve had our fun. Time to end this,” Jericho sneered. He put the gun to Pablo’s forehead, ready to shoot. Right before he did, bullets went into his mechanical leg, bringing it down. Jericho instinctively fired before looking at his assailant, but as he turned around, he was surprised to find Isabella panting with bullets in her abdomen.

“What? But why?” Jericho cried out in surprise.

“Why do you think,” Isabella shook her head in dismay. “You’ve been so obsessed with this man over there,” she pointed to the shivering body of Pablo. “You simply haven’t realized that you have become like him. You hated him, but now you have changed to become like him. Ruthless, with no disregard for human life,” Isabella shook her head again, now more slowly, and weakly spoke. “I wanted to stop you before you fully become such a terrible person.”

“But alas I see it is too late,” Isabella continued. “You... have gone so far as to carelessly... kill your own friend and master.” She coughed weakly,

and stared intently at Jericho. “You... hypocrite...” Isabella’s last words escaped from her mouth as her body began to grow limp.

“No! You can’t leave me!” Jericho cried out in desperation, shaking Isabella’s body as he clung to it. He hung his head in shame, regretting his grave mistake, but no amount of regret could reverse what he had done. Pablo sensed his mental high ground right now, and tried to undermine Jericho’s sanity.

“You idiot! You went and killed your own mentor, you blithering fool!” Pablo laughed evilly at Jericho, while he tried to get up from his position. But his wounds overpowered him, and he fell back to the ground, panting.

Jericho slowly turned around, tears streaming from his eyes. He laid the dead body of Isabella on the floor, and picked up his pistol again, crawling towards Pablo with only one of his legs functional. The look on Pablo’s face instantly went from one of laughter and mocking to fear and surprise.

“Stop where you are! You wouldn’t dare!” Pablo yelled at Jericho.

“It would be what Isabella wanted me to do. To finish this.” Jericho said, crawling towards Pablo. To immobilize him, Jericho plunged his knife into Pablo’s thigh as Pablo screamed in pain.

“Goodbye Pablo,” Jericho said his farewells to his enemy as he put the gun to Pablo’s forehead, and squeezed the trigger.

As the hollow shot of the silenced gun echoed through the empty office, Jericho staggered towards the hole towards the surface, and collapsed. Anyone that Jericho had actually known was dead, and he pondered what action should be taken. Jericho felt empty inside, and didn’t know what was worth living for anymore. The moon was at it’s peak, and it’s luminescence shone upon Jericho’s face.

Reality seemed to be waning now, and Jericho could barely keep conscious. Yet, what was the point of reality if anything he had lived for was gone or dead? Jericho had achieved his goal, but at what cost? He raised the barrel of the gun to his temple.

“I hope you soon, Isabella, but I won’t be going to with you,” Jericho pulled the trigger, and fell to the floor.

! Jer icho is a ru th less assass in on a quest for vengeance. Af ter he

lost h is fami ly and h is own leg to Pablo Gald ikas, he ’s been set on a

quest for re t r ibut ion upon the corrupt po l i t ic ian. Wi th the help of

Isabel la , a woman who a lso lost her fami ly to Pablo Gald ikas, Jer icho

is determined to t rack down Pablo Gald ikas and get h is revenge. . . At

whatever the cost , even i f i t means becoming a monster h imsel f .