Lightning Cloud

The Prey becomes the Predator

Thiago shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he took a right turn from the intersection. It wasn't the fear of bullets; the Dodge Ram he had borrowed from Francis was bulletproof, nothing short of an RPG could put a dent in it. It was the pattern of the attacks that had occured, they brought out memories that he had long ago suppressed. The last time he had seen them in action... no, it was impossible. Those secrets were buried deep along with the people whom he had enacted them with.

Right now, his main focus was finding out just what was going on. And there was only one person he could think of who could help him.

Long ago, on a mission that involved deliberately getting captured and then killing a political prisoner in Siberia, he had met Graham Fitzgerald Alexander, then just a reporter for a news firm that was known for publishing scandals and causing outrages in the political arena back in the hustle and bustle of the politically supercharged hub that was called Washington DC. He had been caught sneaking into a sensitive government office in the Kremlin, and been sentenced to a week in the cold prisons of the area. Since he had written so negatively about some of the activities of many higher ups in the political scene of the US, there was very little effort made to get him back, and thus Thiago had been placed in the same cell as the frail and shivering Graham, who had gone from a slightly overweight, clever and yet jolly person to a walking skeleton with a rough, unkempt beard and a wild-eyed stare; it was clear that the plan was to torture and starve him. Back then, Thiago was incapable of feeling pity, but recognizing a potential ally in a field which might prove to be useful to him one day, he took him along- rather, he dragged him along; Graham's stamina had been reduced to being able to a few steps before exhaustion overtook him- out of the prison and back into the US, where the reporter proceeded to have an article published that almost caused World War III. In addition to having gained a paranoia for anything even remotely suspicious- to the extent of having a private army around him at all times upon reaching the level of chief editor in the firm he worked for- he had a knack for knowing about things which even many intelligence chiefs around the world didn't know about. Yes, he would be the perfect person to start his investigation.

In a mansion on the outskirts of DC, Graham ended his call with yet another CEO who had spent the last hour threatening him with all sorts of litigation if he went through with publishing a reveal-all story about his company in tomorrow's papers. Graham, at this point in his career, was unfazed. He had received far worse threats from much more powerful people before, but, just in case, doubling his already formidable guard for the duration of the story's running did not seem like a bad idea. He exited the room, walked over to his personal quarters, scanned his bio metrics into the bomb-proof container that he lived in and stepped inside. He turned on the lights, turned around and almost let off a scream before a hand swiftly moved to cut it off.

"Quiet. I am not here to kill you. I didn't save your life in Siberia to have it end like this. Not yet, anyways."

Graham's scream died in his throat, his eyes widened and he turned around to look at his savior. He looked older, more battle worn, but the steely gaze and his relaxed pose that reminded him of a snake coiled up and ready to strike was still the same. As Thiago let him go, Graham exclaimed,"How in the world did you get in here?"

Thiago smiled. The kind of technology used by his old employers was centuries ahead of the conventional stuff, and to fool a bio metric system into letting him in was quite a simple task. He had obtained similar equipment at Francis' shop earlier in the day, and was feeling truly grateful to him.

"Why, it has been years, and you don't even offer me a drink. Graham, did they beat the manners out of you too?"

Graham took a deep breath to calm his thundering heart, sat down and explained,"I apologize, but I don't carry any alcohol on me. Too much of a chance of my getting loose tongued and revealing something I shouldn't have. Can never be too sure if the place is bugged, even if I have it swept everyday."