THE TRAIL

Prologue

The moon shone brightly through the night sky, without a cloud obstructing its silver rays. In the quiet of the night it illuminated a lone figure dashing through the streets of the small town of Morella in southern Spain. The silhouette made its way through the narrow alleyways, ensuring that he kept within the shadows of the shops that were densely arranged along the road. His footsteps echoed against the hard brick that paved the streets through the silent night and he cursed inwardly, his heartbeat accelerating by the second.

'The assassin must not find me.'

He took a left turn, narrowly avoiding some pots and pans hanging by the terraces of the corner shop, no doubt left there by the town baker. Then he saw it. His salvation. The Court House. If he could only manage to get there, to hide himself within its safe walls, he could find respite from the beast that was chasing him.

110 metres

Adrenaline pumped through his veins as raw energy coursed through his body. His pace quickened. He dared throw a backward glance and he saw no-one. He almost cried in relief. He had managed to lose the assassin in the maze of streets, shops and turns.

70 metres.

He could now see the guard at the gates, standing next to one of the ionic pillars that supported the front columns of the Court House. The guard looked to have already seen the oncoming figure sprinting at top speed toward his building.
'I pray he has a gun', the man thought.

30 metres.

He was close enough to see the dark blue uniform of the guard, his cap donning the iconic symbol of an eagle perched on the branch of a great oak tree. Stability. Security. That is what he needed now.

10 metres.

He was here. He had made it. Safe at last. He began to speak to the guard before him

'Excuse m-'

He couldn't see it, but he felt it. An almost imperceptible wisp of air beside his left ear.The guard barely remained standing for a couple of seconds, before he fell head first onto the ground, a small red dot in the middle of his forehead. The man tripped forward in shock and fell just as he was reaching the base landing of the flight of stairs.

Fear gripped his heart. An arcane, guttural feeling of dread washed over him, and in that instant, he knew that he was not going to survive the night.

He could now hear it over the loud pounding of his heart. A pair of footsteps gently approaching from the far end of the street leading up to the Court House.

The Assassin.

The man felt cornered, like a young deer surrounded by an irate pack of hyenas. He had heard that at such a time, one's life flashed before their eyes in an instant. But that was not the case for him. He simply felt fear. The most primal, unadulterated version of fear. And in that last moment of desperation, a glimmer of hope tore through his soul.

The file!

As deftly as his trembling fingers could allow him to, he extracted his PDA from his side bag and located the file. Running his own software, he compressed the file into a few bytes, zipped it and then collapsed it into a series of codes and algorithms. Keying in the IP address of his contact on the outside, he sent the file.

Then as quickly as the file disappeared, he initiated a manual override and self-destruct sequence for the PDA. Hardly had he finished than he felt the all-consuming presence of the assassin fill his senses.

'Der Datei.' The file.

The assassin's voice was smooth, but carried a certain coldness that seemed to pierce the very soul of the man. The assassin spoke German, a fact that scarcely registered in his mind.

'You're too late', the man breathed, his voice laced with fear, replying in English.

'It's gone.'

The assassin gazed over the man who lay prostate on the ground. From experience, the assassin knew that a dying man was the most honest being on earth. The assassin sighed.

'Wo?' Where.

'You will never find it,' the man rasped. 'Gone to someone who will bring it into the light.'

In that instant, the assassin saw the dim glow of a device almost completely hidden from view by the side bag belonging to the man. For a brief second, a modicum of fear raced through the heart of the assassin but was instantly replaced by instinct. In a flash, the assassin had retrieved the PDA and suppressed a cry of anger as the now blank screen read only 3 words:

SELF DESTRUCT COMPLETE

The assassin shifted the gaze from the device to the quarry that lay ahead. The man could read it on the assassin's face. The file was gone. He had successfully managed to keep it from the hands of the assassin and those committed to suppressing the light. A smile slowly crept over his face. He always suspected that the road he chose would lead him to death.

He was surprised by what he had uncovered. The shock still registered now even as he faced sure death. He was even more surprised by the identity of those behind the secrets, who now wanted him dead; who would contract the deadliest assassin in the world - Der Attentäter- to hunt him down. But never in a million years had he expected to die in a blaze of victory, triumphing over the overwhelming cloud of antagonists that stood against him.

He closed his eyes.

The world would never be the same again.

***********************************************************************

The assassin put the pistol back in its holder and looked down at the man, bullet through his skull but an unnerving smile on his face. The assasin was renowned for always getting the job done. But this was a failure of great proportions. The file was lost once more and they were back at the beginning. The assassin cursed silently.

This time, the job would get done.

No mistakes.

The assassin pocketed the PDA and swiftly faded into the night.

Before reporting this mishap to the employers, the assasin needed to make one final stop.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE

Thankyou for taking time and reading my book. I hope it shapes up to be worth your time. Any comments will be highly appreciated and regarded. Hope to see you again real soon. Till then..