The Knights of the Black Sun

Untitled Part 1

The immigration officer is asking the man wearing the green jacket with the shiny buttons:

"How long have you been out of the country?"

"2 days"

"are you bringing any food, alcohol or cigarettes?"

"No."

The officer looks at him, with his usual, trained sceptic eye, then marks the letter 'O' on the customs declaration form, stating:

"Have a nice day, sir."

The man picks up his briefcase, and walks towards customs, when 4 well dressed men surround him. Two of them exposing a gun in their holsters.

One sharp looking man approaches him frontal, wearing an uniform. He looks like a German Nazi. He is holding a shot with a long needle in his right hand.

Then everything goes quick. One man sneaks up behind the target, and throws a burlap sack over his head, while the Nazi injects a substance into the victims arm. People surrounding him are puzzled, shocked, pointing fingers at him.

Fade to black.

Chapter 1:

Nicolas Anderson wakes up tied to a chair, inside an eight by six room that has high walls built with wide blocks of stone, painted in brown color. He shakes his head and hands sideways with the intension to loosen the rope tied around them. That causes his messy hair to move at the same pace. No success. He forces his feet apart to loosen the rope around his brown leather boots. His heart is pounding. His breath rate and pulse increases, as it is fatiguing his body. He gives up.

He looks around.

There are water drops sticking on the ceiling, hanging there as if they are getting ready to fall on the floor. An electric wire pokes out of the dark wooden stud that is supporting the ceiling, connected to a socket that holds a dusty light bulb. His saliva tastes bitter, like liquid electrolyte, perhaps from the injection he received just hours ago, and probably reinforced by his high pulse. The dangling lightbulb shining into the dark is underpowered, yet bright enough to expose the only contemporary feature in the room: The door. A wide steel door containing an electromechanical lock, a sliding panel on the upper half, and a surveillance camera inside a bubbly peephole.

As Nicolas turns his head to the left, he recognizes his jacket hanging on a hook, presenting its neatly polished buttons. On the right side there is a twin bed covered by rotten blankets. Behind him there is a small window, maybe 2x2, with 7 rusty steel bars across the opening. He can hear hauling from outside that appears to come from another building, yet echoing as if inside an enormous dungeon for animals. Except, the hauling is caused by human nature.

Steps from the hallway can be heard approaching the room.

'Male, slightly overweight, wearing heavy boots, normal pace' are Nicola's thoughts. The door lock makes two loud cloaking sounds, as it opens towards the inside. A tall man in military uniform walks into the room, wearing thin, old fashion glasses. The man lifts his right hand to grabs his military cap off his head by the visor, and hangs it on the hook next to the door. Then he takes off his black leather gloves, and holds them together behind his back, as he gives the victim a razor-sharp look with his squinting, evil eyes.

"Good evening Dr. Anderson."

Chapter 2:

Bruce Hemingway, the tall, black, bald agent, is sitting at the oaky desk inside Washington DCs FBI headquarters. He is on the phone with Senator Russell Taylor. The man just quit smoking 5 days ago, and he is nervously chewing on a toothpick while conversing on the telephone. He is also waiting for two of his top agents. Agent Mike Montana, and Lola Parker.