The name was spoken in whispers, for it was feared more than death. And here I was, to find out the true identity of the one they called the Beast. A man who had brought despair and violence to many, myself included. A man who would do anything to get what he wanted.
My journey of revenge had led me on a path of too many dead ends and attempts on my life. Was this just another? I hoped not. I was getting incredibly weary. But I had a feeling I was on the right scent. Information from a reliable source had led me here, to the rumored home of the Beast's accountant.
Through my night-vision binoculars, I scanned the perimeter of the penthouse. Two guards, cloaked in black, as I was, were walking the wraparound balcony, rifles at their sides. The sight of them made me more sure this was the right place.
Down below, yellow and red lights of the many cars traveling the city sparkled in my eyes. And the sound of horns, revving engines and sirens mushroomed up like a dense fog. The sky was clear but no stars twinkled down.
I took a deep breath to calm my nerves before picking up the grappling gun at my feet. And once aimed, I pulled its trigger. With a soft twang, the hook shot out, followed by the kevlar rope, and soared, slithered speedily across the gap between the buildings.
A distant and faint thud was all I heard, letting me know the hook had hit its mark. Securing my end of the rope to the railing, I gave out another deep breath before connecting the handles. Then gripping them tightly, I stepped off the roof with no fear.
In no time at all, I was zipping across, the hot and humid night air pummeling me, rushing over my ears as if I was gliding passed the torrent of a waterfall.
Seconds later, and timing it almost perfectly, I let go and jumped onto a ledge several floors below the penthouse. I was this close to smashing through a window. Through blinds, I could see an old man watching television, completely oblivious. Thank goodness he hadn't heard.
Glancing up the skyscraper, I made sure I hadn't been seen by one of the guards, looking for a head popping out over the edge. There was nothing and I started to climb.
The penthouse's balcony didn't come fast enough, as my hands had begun to sweat, but I made it. I heaved myself up and scurried behind a large planter housing a palm tree.
Keeping my back snug to the wall, I shuffled over to the corner and peeked round, immediately snapping my head back. A guard. But to my relief, he was walking away. I peeked again before creeping over and following him.
I could have easily incapacitated him, tossing him over the side a very viable option, but that would have raised the alarm. There was to be no injuring or killing tonight. Nobody could find out I was here unless I wanted to ruin everything. I was prepared for anything though. A handgun, a knife and a few smoke grenades were at the ready.
Suddenly, the guard stopped and swiveled to look out over the city. I was quick to hug his back and keep him from spotting me.
After lighting a cigarette and taking a few puffs, the smoke tickling my throat and almost making me gag, he turned back round and continued down the balcony.
My shadowing tango with the man didn't last long as I was soon climbing a ladder. And up I went to the roof of the penthouse. Gravel was below my feet so I still had to tread lightly. I inched over to the skylight.
Opening it was a piece of cake and I made quick work of repelling down into the accountant's kitchen.
Although my task was far from over, a quiet sigh of relief escaped my lips. I then listened to make sure I was alone. Nothing. Good. Just as I thought. Just as I had planned.
There was a noise though. The hum of an air-conditioner whirred dreamily all around. That's when I noticed the chill, it sending shivers down my spine. A stark contrast from outside.
The coldness mirrored the penthouse's design. Whites, blacks and greys were the only colors. And it was bare too. I was surprised, expecting something more grand, more opulent.
From the kitchen, I sneaked through to the living room. A stone fireplace and chimney stood tall from floor to ceiling. An empty doggie bed lay in front of the hearth. I was glad the accountant had taken her dog with her on the trip. Chihuahuas can be quite fierce, not too mention very yappy. I would have been made out in a heartbeat.
The office lay beyond. And as I stepped inside, I got to searching. The desk was the first place I looked, a lamp on top casting a dim orange glow, but it was futile. There was nothing in the drawers. Nothing important or secret anyway.
My eyes shot to the walls, an oil painting of a landscape on each side. The one behind the desk seems more likely, I said to myself. I grabbed it and lifted it off the wall. Ah, yes. A safe. I smiled at the make and model. The accountant should have used something better.
Ten minutes was all it took to crack the thing. Not a bad time. And when I opened it, a beautiful, leather ledger was revealed. I took it out and placed it on the desk below the lamp, flipping to the first page.
There is was. The mark of the Beast.
A long list of bank account numbers were written down on the proceeding pages. Too many to count. I swore under my breath at it all.
I took out my phone and snapped a picture of several of the numbers, quickly sending it to my friend and colleague.
Trace them, I texted.
My mind raced and my heart thumped as I waited. I was almost giddy with excitement. I was finally going to uncover what I had been searching for for a long time.
A name then flashed on the screen.
At first I thought someone else had sent me a message, rather annoyed at the timing, but no one had. And I just stared and stared and stared, confused.
This has got to be some sort of mistake. My fingers had fumbled typing the message.
It's not. I tripled check.
Check again.
Trust me. It's not a mistake. I'm sorry.
My throat felt as if something had ballooned inside. I couldn't breathe. I felt dizzy, faint. I felt like throwing up. I felt a tear running down my cheek. My world had just been turned upside down.
