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  My mind is brought back to the present with a crash, my hand goes for my sword while my eyes are drawn to the sound. Only a dropped plate. The serving maids waiting along the wall jump to action, scurrying to remove the mess as quickly as possible. The Boss takes no notice of the commotion; a good morning or his mind is too preoccupied. It’s difficult to tell. The Boss’s mood swings back and forth; it’s impossible to predict how he’ll react one minute to the next.

  My mind wanders away from the mess to the banquet in front of me. I’m finding it difficult to concentrate this morning with all the excess food around. Some of them are hard to come by like goat cheese. What I would do for some toast and goat cheese! I can’t complain though, I eat way better than most, better than 99% of the population. Usually eggs and bacon in the morning, freshly prepared from the kitchen. They have long hours just like I do and have breakfast ready for me every morning at 5 am sharp. Sometimes I can’t make it, but they always store it for me or if I have time, they heat it up for me. I eat in the kitchen whenever I can. The staff is so used to me that they speak freely in my presence, forgetting who’s at their table. The information they unintentionally provide is invaluable. Within minutes of sitting there, I can find out most of the on goings of The Boss’s home as well as the surrounding areas from the people’s perspective; way more informative than any newspaper.

  As The Boss reads the newspaper this morning, I scan it as well. Even from my position I can tell much of the information has been falsified. Of course, it’s because of me that this is so. In my line of work, I’ve seen how easily people will bend to the will of others, doing exactly as their told to avoid pain. The reporters for the United Party are proficient at serving up only the best sort of news; a reminder hardly ever needs to be made. It helps that the editors get a little incentive on the side. It’s not like anyone joins the ‘free’ press to actually write honest articles; everyone knows it’s a corrupt job just like any other public position.

  The Boss, mumbles something to his oldest son, Michael. The man is a complete nitwit. Just barely able to follow orders and lacks the cleverness to be a leader. The Boss is grooming him to take over his spot and I’m hoping The Boss never realizes his son’s uselessness. Otherwise, he might realize his youngest son, Daniel, is vying for the position, and a ruthless, cunning ruler he would be.

  My spot, directly behind The Boss, affords me access to all of his personal conversations. It’s the biggest advantage of my position. My ears are always open and my eyes always searching, I gather whatever I can against him to use to my advantage. I spent years training with my now deceased father for this position. It is my right and duty, but not for the reason everyone thinks. As the enforcer, I fill a greater, vital role. Just like my dad and his before him. They set the stage that I now stand on and this is the final act.

  The click of heels draws my attention. Izabel. My gaze meets hers for a moment before she looks away. Her eyes, almost black, have a way of pulling me in, mesmerizing in their depth. I am drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

  She’s incredibly beautiful with dark black hair like her mother. She wears it so severely, but it only draws attention to her elegant jawline and her slim neck. She’s so different from everyone else. Secretive in her own way. She cloaks herself in a mask of indifference, but her eyes reveal her heart.

  We used to be close as children. I was groomed to guard and protect her even as a young boy. Mirna and she used to follow me around, wanting my attention and someone to play with. I indulged them until I was a teenager, then my hormones kicked into overdrive. I ditched Izabel and spent more time with the pretty girls at school. Then with dad training me nearly every night and weekend, I forgot about the little girl and her friend. I didn’t see them at meals since they were considered too young to attend. During the day, they were both busy with their education while I was busy learning my future position and trying to keep up with my classes. The little free time I had, I spent with my friends, trying to forget about the blood I’d shed.

  A few years had gone by before I noticed the little girl again. Of course, I’d see her occasionally, but it was rare enough she wasn’t on my mind. Then one day, she was a little girl no longer. She became a young woman, but something more had changed. Something she had before was gone and something else had taken its place, a sort of lightness that’s now overshadowed and concealed. She built up a wall to keep others away and the once smiling face is gone and replaced by a steely, thorny composure. I want to know her, not because her father decided we would marry, but because I know I can make her happy again. I just need to remind her how.

  I regret not being there for her when her mother died and all the other times she needed me. She’s the last person alive I love and I’ll spend every day for the rest of my life making up to her for the things I’ve done and will do. I hope she can forgive me. I hope I’m not too late.

  The Boss gets up from the table and signals for Alroy and me to follow him. It’s time to get down to business. I make a promise to myself to reach out a little more to Izabel this week. Not wanting to be overly pushy, I’ve been subtle in trying to draw her attention, but obviously I need to try harder. My girl is a complicated puzzle and it will take more than an old friendship to earn her trust.

  I close the doors to The Boss’s office. He sits at his desk tossing the newspaper to the side and asks me, “Where are you on this whole La Ragazza di Ombra business?”

  “I have nothing new. Just rumors of sightings. No one knows who she is or where she lays her head at night.”

  “Is there something in the paper?” Alroy asks.

  “No of course not.” The Boss looks over at Alroy annoyed. “The papers only print what Darick tells them.” He waves him off. “But Larkson was killed last night. The chief of police stopped by early this morning to let me know and already his death is being attributed to her.”

  “Did someone see her?”

  “No! She’s like a ghost. What I want to know is why we haven’t seen her yet. It’s been years since she was first reported to us and still we have nothing to go on. If she’s the one behind it, then she’s been killing our men with a new kind of vigor. What’s her agenda?” The Boss gets ups and paces his office, stopping only to gaze out his window. “Rumors have circulated for years about some girl defending the people, but that’s all they were. Rumors. We should have made a strike then, but no,” he turns to me, “your father insisted it was nothing and now we can’t escape it. I hear more and more whispers from my own men about her and then there are all the bodies. So many unsolved murders of our own people and we don’t have a clue!” He picks up a small bronze statue of a hawk and throws it across the room. “Not just a legend of the people, not anymore, but a flesh and blood girl!” He turns to me. “Tell me Darick, how could you let this go on so long? Why can’t you find any evidence? People are beginning to talk about her as if she’s a goddess; the hope of the people! Are you getting soft? Do I need to bring someone else in?”

  He won’t bring anyone else in… at least while I’m alive. It would be a total upheaval of the structure. The only way to bring someone else into my role is to subtly have me killed; make it look like an accident and then promote from within the ranks. Still, I don’t think he’d do it, but I would prefer not to find out. I kind of like my head.

  “No, sir. I will continue looking into it.” I have been asking about her for a while, at every murder scene and I always walk away empty handed. She’s a personal interest of mine as well because I’m pretty sure she’s responsible for a few rebel’s deaths, but no one seems to know of her. She’s the champion of the poor and as such, she has their complete and total loyalty. They won’t give away anything about her, not even a description. We have no idea how old or tall she is, what kind of clothes she wears other than she’s always concealed in a cloak, all of which equals nothing. Part of the problem is none of her victims ever make it out alive.

  “You will and it is be your numb
er one priority along with putting down these rebels. In fact, they may be one and the same. I want results this time.” From the gleam in his eye, I can tell he means it.

  “Do you know how he was killed?” I ask.

  “Poison.” I nod, but I’m not sure what to make of the information. So far, the causes of death of all of the victims have been varied. They have been killed with knives, swords, sometimes bare hands, and now poison which makes me think that it’s more than one person or someone very well trained. The other problem is the hits are all over, almost random. She has hit nearly every district at one point in time or other which seems impossible for just one person. Moving from district to district is difficult enough, yet I’ve reviewed the paperwork of the people coming and going from districts she’s killed in and I’ve never found a trace of anything. The only commonality are the victims. And I know there must be others, bodies who have escaped our notice. They are all men loyal to The Boss, but a quarter of the country is so how does this person determine a target and what are they really after?

  If I can’t predict her/their next move, I don’t see how I’m going to be able to stop it and for the most part I don’t want to. The exception is for the occasional attack against one of my own people while they are undercover. I do need the Girl of Shadow to stop doing that. It’s making it increasing difficult to find members willing to infiltrate the higher ranks when they are randomly getting knocked off by a ghost.

  “I’ll begin searching for more information today.” Along with every other thing I need to do… I already have a Liberty team on it, but if we can’t figure out something soon I may have to put some of The Boss’s guard on her as well. Then any chance of us coming together as a team will be gone.

  “Good.” He sits back in his chair, his demeanor much calmer than it was just a moment ago. “I need you to stop by this address and take care of a man named Frank Orson.” He passes me the paper. “Your father was cold and effective just like an enforcer should be. He led the guard with an iron fist and took care of any problems swiftly outside of this one issue. He was completely loyal to me and died before his time.” He gives me a once over. “Don’t disappoint me.”

  Chapter 5

  IZABEL

  “Tell me, tutor,' I said, 'Is revenge a science, or an art?”

  ― Mark Lawrence

  ~~~

  Anthony drones on about the end of the Old World and the beginning of the United Party. Not much is known of the Old World; much of the information is just speculation. Computers, for example, everyone’s heard of them, but no one has ever seen one. How could a box full of wires send information across the world? Yet we know it’s possible since it’s the only plausible explanation for mass communication. Letters can only do so much. The Boss owns some pretty antiques and a few other items of interest; as neat as they are, they don’t offer much information.

  One of my great-grandfathers decided it’d be best if all information was controlled, especially anything about the Old World. I am one of the lucky few to have access to Old World books. They’re a part of my mother’s collection. I took a select few to my room the day after she was murdered. Mostly they are just the fairytales she used to read to me; nothing my father would miss. The rest, shelves and shelves full, were packed away somewhere along with her other personal things. Someday I’ll look for them and share with others who are interested in the pursuit of knowledge.

  The days following my mother’s shocking death are unforgettable. It was like one day she was there and the next she was gone. The papers reported a sinister burglary turned murder with no suspects. The whole country grieved her loss. She was beloved by all. There was much speculation, but nothing came of the whispers except eventual silence. My father wasted no time removing her things from the house as if she never was. After the funeral, he never spoke of her again and even my brothers’ eyes had dried. They hadn’t been allowed to grow close to her after they were removed from her breasts. She was practically a stranger to them; though, I know she was desperate to know them. I was alone in my grief and the only one who knew the truth.

  “Ms. Izabel list the first ten and most important laws of the United Party.”

  I recite them all from the heart, ticking them all off on my fingers as I go. “One, The Boss’s word is law. He is the ultimate authority on all things.

  Two, no citizen of the United Party shall challenge The Boss or those he appoints in his stead.

  Three, traitors of The Boss and the United Party will be subject to a public execution immediately after they are found guilty by The Boss or anyone else appointed by The Boss to fulfill such duties.

  Four, only materials approved by The Boss can be taught. All other material should be turned into the closest Court House or Police Station.

  Five, no religion outside of the United Way may be practiced. Nonbelievers are subject to retraining, imprisonment, or execution.

  Six, citizens cannot own weapons of any kind unless they have proper permits. At any time permits can be revoked - if this occurs, then citizens must hand over all weapons to the nearest Court House or Police Station immediately. Having no knowledge of revoked permit is no excuse for carrying an unauthorized weapon. Citizens found with unpermitted weapons are subject to public beatings, imprisonment, or execution.

  Seven, no citizen can speak ill of The Boss; this is a capital offense.

  Eight, all citizens must be properly registered. New citizens shall be recorded through the courthouse within thirty days of birth.

  Nine, non-citizens will be executed on sight as terrorists.

  Ten, The Boss has the authority to change, add or interpret all laws how he sees fit.” The laws have changed so much in the last three hundred years. They used to read with much less violence and more laws in place to protect citizens. Not anymore. The laws exist as a weight around the necks of the people, slowly dragging them down to their death. The people are suffocating and it’s only getting worse.

  “Now, what are the three laws your father added?”

  “Fifty-six, any citizen found resisting the United Party will be subject to public execution along with every member of their household as The Boss sees fit.

  Fifty-seven, citizens found practicing the Old Ways shall be publicly burned.

  Fifty-eight, citizens who see or hear suspicious activity should report it immediately; otherwise, they are an accomplice to the crime and could receive equal punishment as the offender as if they had done the act themselves.”

  “Very good. You’ve studied. Tomorrow, Principessa, prepare an oral presentation on the benefits of steam technology beginning from the work of our founder, your ancestor, Antonio El Primo Don. The very first Boss.” I nod in understanding, trying not to be put out over this assignment. I’m required to do a version of it every year, as is everyone else. It’s supposed to help us feel a sense of nationalism and personal accomplishment for being a part of the new era. We can never forget our history, how we survived and pulled through due to the kindness of my family, it’s drilled into us at every turn. Being The Boss’s daughter, I know more than most people, I’ve been able to name every ancestor since the founding of the United Party and all of their accomplishments since I was ten. I feel like I know them as well as any living family member, maybe even better. “That is all. You are dismissed.”

  I shuffle from the room more like a drowned rat than a princess. Anthony has a way of seeping everything out of me. My steps pick up a bit as I make my way to the training room. My next lesson is in ‘self-defense’ with Fernando. We moved well beyond self-defense ages ago. This is what I wait for each day and work towards each night. It’s Fernando who saw my early potential eight years ago. I was only nine, but he shaped me into a lethal weapon by the time I was twelve. He’s the one helping me fight my family, my destiny. He’s my mentor. I’m his assassin. I have been killing for him for six years. Our goals are the same; bring down The Boss.

  I see him first. He is checking the eq
uipment, testing it for faults before we begin. I sneak behind him and press a kiss to his cheek. He jumps a little and then smiles when he realizes it’s only me.

  “Don’t make me regret teaching you the arts.” He continues playing with the equipment before turning around. His arms are crossed, but I can tell he’s teasing.

  “You could never regret teaching me.” I smile at him. It’s the truth. I’m his legacy. His greatest weapon.

  “No, never.” He becomes serious. “You are like my own daughter. My ears must be growing weak with age if I can no longer detect you. Perhaps you need to train me?”

  “Your ears are just fine. My skill is just improving.” It is. With each passing month, I am better. It’s all thanks to the short, skinny, and frail looking man in front of me, who has just as many scars as wrinkles. His looks are deceiving. He uses his withered, aging body to his advantage in public just as I take advantage of my young and small statute. He likes to pass himself off as the kind little old man who experienced a hard life. He walks slow, taking his time. It’s the perfect disguise. My father was fooled by his frail exterior. He thinks Fernando teaches basic self-defense. I’m not sure how he got hired for the job. My father must not have thought my training important to have hired such an aged and seemingly crippled man. Too bad he opened the door to his enemy. I’ll have to remember to thank him for it one day.

  When I first meet Fernando, I too was fooled by his display as well. I wanted to learn to defend myself because I didn’t want to end up dead in my own home like my mother. Upon first seeing Fernando, I was disappointed. After a few months, when Fernando came to trust me and when I trusted him, I shared with him my secret, my anger. I was so desperate not to be alone and too terrified to reach out to anyone else. In return, he revealed his identity to me. I turned out he was anything but frail, that was when my real training began. In me, he found the perfect student and in him I found a close, trusted friend. I hadn’t even opened up to Mirna yet, that came much later. At first I didn’t tell her because I was afraid for her, but she’s smart enough to catch on to my odd behavior. She began following me about to try and discover the source of my anger and sadness, so I told her to prevent her from pursuing it further. So far it’s worked and I am grateful to have two people in my life who know me almost completely.