Creed of the Leviathan II

31 | M

8 months later....

Mattia

I was working out in the basement of my assigned house, located near the south beach of Miami. My training was still ongoing, with breaks in between that differed in period, each time. I worked on myself even during my breaks; I worked out to stay in the best shape possible and I did my own studies that focused on business to not lose my touch. Mentally and psychologically, I was put under enough pressure by the organization. With time, I began to recognize their patterns and slowly, I was learning their ways. 

"You're supposed to be on your break." 

I did not have to look over my shoulder to see who the voice belonged to. Though, Clay stayed in an entirely different city, he would stop by without announcement, every now and then.

I continued punching the punching bag. "I am." I replied.

"How do you like the city?" 

I drew in a deep breath through my nose and blew the air out through my mouth. "It's fine," I jumped back and forth. "Hot and busy." A few more punches landed on the bag. "What brings you here?"

"I have some exciting news for you."

We made eye contact through the tall mirror in front of me, when I stopped moving around.

"I'm meeting with a good client of us in Prague tomorrow. Nothing too difficult." He walked around the punching bag until we were face to face. "A minor misunderstanding on their part, which we want to solve as soon as possible. I'd like you to join me."

I turned quiet for a moment. Everything they said, asked or did, made me question myself if it was just another test.

"When do we leave?" By now I had learned to go with the flow and accept everything they threw my way. Because at the end of the day, whether it was a test or not, their goal was to see how well I would deal under any circumstances. They wanted to see if I would break, go insane and maybe even if I would survive or not.

"The plane's leaving in two hours."

As part of the organization, I was completely under their protection. No law enforcement could touch me, not in my home country and neither in the one I was visiting. The organization had their connections, who were now indirectly also mine.

The news on Rafael's death and my involvement had died down. Every now and then I would still come across a random article or video, mostly by self-proclaimed blogs or media-persona's, looking for a quick following. With the heat gone, I was given the chance at more outings under their supervision. 

I packed my essentials, firearms being one of them. We were always discreet when it came to carrying our weapons. The Alliance prefers to be unnoticeable. After all, we are a secret organization. However, since we always fly by private plane and land on private airlines, we have nothing to worry about. 

I put on a black T-shirt with sweats and sneakers of the same color. I saved my formal clothing for the meeting. There were just eight of us on the plane, including the two pilots and one flight attendant. Clay, myself and Franky; the man, who caused the whole casino-happening, were sitting scattered on different chairs. The two hires, who were contracted as our security detail for this specifical job, sat at a good distance from us. 

They were not Alliance, and neither were they associates. Depending on the potential threats that could arise from a meeting with clients or associates, we hire individuals from a certain background as security as an extra precautions in case we could not stand our own ground. Besides, the Alliance perceive themselves as the masterminds. They would not do the dirty work themselves.