The Fourth Horseman.

Chapter One

Three days ago...

15th December 2022.
Brooklyn New York.
Jericho an 18 year old British boy was spending the holidays with his mom's richer and older brother. It was supposed to be an uneventful holiday within the walls of The Bronze Titan (his uncle's enormous three storey mansion). Perhaps this was what could have happened
The morning after he arrived -A Sunday- he laid on the king-sized bed in his massive and equally luxurious bedroom, staring vacantly into the high ceiling.
"Well this is bloody boring!"
He would then reach for the bedside counter and retrieve his phone, flip through for a while then put it aside. "Screw it, I'm going outside"
Leaping out of the bed and throwing on a thick brown leather coat, he sets off. "Perhaps I'll check if Charlie's home." Charlie was one of the few friends he had managed to make in New York during his brief visits in the past. His dad's smaller but no less pretty mansion was within walking distance of the Bronze Titan. If he gets there, the two would play video games and chat well into the night, just the way Jericho liked it. It was immediately he stepped out through the huge front door that he suddenly remembered one tiny but ever so important pain in the ass detail. Charlie and his entirely family were "church people" and it was a Sunday morning.
"Daaaamn!" His frustrated outcry drew the attention of a nearby Butler who hurriedly rushed in, "is everything okay young master?"
Jericho silently regarded the slim elderly fellow in a perfectly tailored tuxedo then answered his query; "Everything is fine Agamemnon, don't worry yourself". After a scrutinizing look to ascertain whether the lad was indeed okay, the butler nods and silently walks off leaving Jericho alone once more with his thoughts.
"I guess there's always Zelda." After saying this, he suddenly stops himself, "naaaaaahhh, I guess that might not be a really good idea". Zelda was one of his other friends in New York. She was a cool and pretty African American teenager of his age with a rather seductive body and an equally seductive pair of Hazel colored eyes but he had decided never to be alone with her again after his last visit to New York when she tried to take his Virginity.
You see, Jericho could not be described as one of the most confident or boldest of persons. Being born and raised in a small London town of Greenwich by a single mother, Jericho had never been one to actively socialize, hence he found himself mighty awkward around most people, especially girls. So for this shy British teen to suddenly find himself the subject of a pretty girl's sexual fantasies, it was only natural for him to panic and run away.
"But come on!", This was him reprimanding himself; "It's been over a year, definitely the tension would have died down. Besides, do you really want to die a virgin?" by now he had begun walking back to his room; "No. I'll go see her tomorrow and if I'm lucky maybe the window will still be open" the last part of that statement brought a weird and creepy smile to his face.
So with nothing to do, he continues his retreat to his room. Now on the second floor, halfway to the room, he looks outside through a window and notices a vintage black Royce pull up in front of the house, one he had never seen before. Following it immediately behind it was another car: a red Bentley. This one he had seen before, it was his uncle's.
From out of the Royce steps out an elderly man perhaps in his late sixties, sporting a brown strawhat on his head and a black ankle length sultan. He walks with the aid of a firm intricately carved cane and behind him, three  black suit clad men step out of the car, bodyguards probably. From out of the red car, his uncle steps out: a five foot tall man with  grey shoulder-length dreadlocks and a full beard of the same color. He wears a pair of white sneakers on a white sweater and blue skinny jeans. Judging by his choice of hairstyle and wardrobe, one may not easily guess that his uncle was seventy five. From out of the same car, another man emerges, a larger and younger latino man with a smooth head. His thick dark shades complimented his black suit. This was Miguel. For as long as Jericho could remember, Miguel had always been close beside his uncle. He was used to them having visitors but something about this man in a strawhat didn't feel right to Jericho. He couldn't place his hands on what it was exactly but he just couldn't help but feel a lurking danger in the air. At that moment, one of the stranger's bodyguards looks up and locks eyes with Jericho, causing him to flinch a bit. "It's probably nothing", forcing himself to believe that, he continues his walk back to his room.

*********
At the entrance of The Bronze Titan, both elderly men and their escort proceed with their walk inside the house. They walk in silence until the one with a strawhat speaks;
"I'm hoping my visit today will end without any mishap. You've tied up all loose ends haven't you, Francis?"
Jericho's uncle makes a left into a hallway and the rest of the party follows him; "to an extent, yes. But some problems just can't be ironed out so easily, can they?"
"Is that an excuse for incompetence Francis? We expect results, not excuses"
Jericho's uncle would then raise an eyebrow at his Compadre's statement; "We? I don't recall ever having to answer to you Karric"
"Hmph. You may not answer to me but myself like everyone else in the business have my eyes on you."
At this point, they all walk into an elevator where Jericho's uncle pushes a button and they begin to ascend to the top floor. "I see. Well I assure you Karric, I have been in this business for the better part of three decades, I don't plan on slipping up today."
Karric nods; "so how do you plan on fixing up your screw up now?".
With a smile, Francis answers, "Rather brutally and swiftly"
*******