Unknown

1- Dreams of Another Life.

*flashback from part one*

It was a nice car. Jet black porche going seventy-five mph. The music was loud, Frank tapped out his fourth cigarette before dumping it in the cup holder where a pile of them lay.
There were four of us in the car. Frank, Thomas, me, and a boy I didn't know. He said his name was Stanley. His brother was my brothers friend. Harvey.

There was a month old Jack Daniel's at my feet, two bottles of Scotch in the glove compartment.
The leader was a boy called Jarheid. He had killed so many of the gang members, it was second nature to him. He was in prison. Sentenced for life, so he had these boys continue his 'legacy'
I was one of his boys now.

They told me they gave themselves new first names. So their old friends or family could never find them.
"What did you call my brother?"
"Joseph."
I nodded once.
"Mick?"
"Lex."
Thomas frowned at me, then understood.
"Lex?"
I laughed. "What?"
"Well, I was just about to ask what you were going to call yourself."

I smiled. I thought about Granddad. The fire, the boat, Mum. But mainly Granddad. There was much I missed from my old life. Much I secretly wanted to return to.

I was on trial until the big day. They didn't make it obvious that they were testing me, but I could always feel judgmental and scrutinizing eyes piercing the back of my neck as I went about my day to day tasks.
Granddads funeral would be in a few weeks. Tirrean was the only one from home knew who and where I was. I sent him one last text explaining everything, and he replied with nothing but the date of Granddad's funeral and 'be there.'

The car was still tearing wrecklessly down the highway. We had a plane to catch. More specifically, to hijack.
We'd take over and have the pilot get us to Mexico, where phase one of the IEA would be put into action. No killing. No harm.

The gang had their way of intimidating people without hurting them. But Thomas and Jarheid weren't exactly on good terms with that method. They were salvage creatures who would desrtoy anything and everything in their way. But it ran in their blood. They were cousins, Thomas told me. Their grandfather was a Russian, a wicked one. He worked for the Russian army until he got tired of fighting for peace. He was hungry for power. He and his newly formed army of bloodthirsty soldiers terrorized half of Russia, Oman and Iran.

Then Jarheid's dad took the ropes. He was killed in Iraq. Thomas doesn't know his parents. He was adopted by and lived with his uncle, who never spoke of them.
He ran away from home when he was just eight. His uncle had a kid of his own and always favoured him to Thomas.

We reached the airport.
Tirrean called. I got out of the car.
"Hello?"
"Mick?"
"Um, yeah."
"You changed your name. Didn't you?"
"Not legally. Joseph"
"Let's hear it then."
"I. I can't."
"Fair enough. I need to tell you something."

"Okay.."
When Tirrean joined the gang, I didn't treat him the way he was treating me. I hated him. But here he was looking out for me.
"Mum and Dad, they've obviously gotten to grips with the fact that you've run away from home."
"Yeah."
"They've set up a search party. I haven't told them I have contact. But I might have to."
"Please, Tirrean you-"
"Look. I didn't call to ask you. I'm telling you, so there's no point pleading with me."
"So you're telling them?"
"Mick, come home. This isn't you."
"Sorry." I hung up.

Hearing Tirreans voice made me have to fight the urge to come home even harder. I could picture the glum look on Mum's face every day. I'd just gone missing in the ocean, Granddad had just died. This wasn't the time to start pulling any stupid 'teen rebel' stunts.
I thought about going home. Stuff the money. Stuff these criminals. I didn't belong here any more than Tirrean did.