Tsiyone Vianca Leontine was off to visit Captain Herrera. “I’m bored and something doesn’t feel right. I’m gonna go spar with Captain. That always cheers me up…” Her mind was wandering off in daydreams, thinking of all the times he taught her hand to hand combat.
Flashback:
A young Tsiyone, henceforth to be called Viana, of about thirteen years of age found herself thrown onto the ground again. “Tch ow.”
“Concentrate! Come at me again like you mean it.” A slightly younger but still aging Herrerra was standing a few feet away from her.
After many times of being thrown back, Herrera made his assessment of her skills. “Not bad for your first day.”
“Not bad?” Viana whined. “More like awful…” She gets up again and dusts herself off, her t-shirt and jeans full of dirt and grass stains. On the bright side, she didn’t scrape herself on any rocks.
“This was just an assessment so I know what I need to teach you versus what you already know. It’s a start point, not a grade. Real training starts tomorrow. Get a good night’s sleep. Your strength isn’t easy to develop, but you can do speed. I teach you where to hit and how hard you hit won’t matter any.”
The flashback ends as she catches a whiff of blood coming from Herrera’s house that snaps her back to reality. “… Captain!” She checks the door and it’s locked, so she runs around to the back. It’s still unlocked. She follows the smell of blood right to Herrera’s body in his study. He didn’t look like he’d been tortured or anything, but a bullet between the eyes was plain as day. It looked like police hadn’t been there yet. She lightly touched some of the blood, careful not to leave any prints on the crime scene. The body was freshly dead and his blood was still warm to the touch. She sighed. Who would have done this? Only one way to find out… She hated using her psychometry but wanted to know the face of his killer. Glancing around the room, she decided what she’d touch was the glass of spilt wine. It was closest to his body and would have the clearest view. She closes her eyes and touches the glass. Everything flashes and she becomes immersed in the images of the past.
The glass was picked up after placing down his pistol. When he walked into his study there was a man who appeared in his early twenties waiting for him with a silenced pistol in hand. He had tattoos on his wrists of what appeared to be Bible references. John 8:32 was on his left wrist, and Luke 15:32 was on his right wrist. “Ssshhhh…”
“He sent you, didn’t he?” Herrera said.
Smirking, the stranger replied, “he who?”
“I kept my mouth shut about the boy’s father being dead… About his father being a cop. I’ve kept my end… No one is going to suspect it was any of us… Why are you here?” Herrera had a sense of fear to his voice, knowing that there was a good chance he was going to die by this man.
The stranger gives a smile that reminds Viana of a predator that caught its meal. “My employers want the information you’re hovering above their heads.”
“The kid’s safe…” Herrera’s voice trailed off, as if he knew it wasn’t the answer the man wanted.
The man shook his head. “Well that’s too bad; your family or the kid?”
Captain Herrera picked up his knife and with the sound of resolve in his voice said, “Neither.” Before Herrera can use the knife, the young man shoots Herrera between the eyes.
The glass of wine shatters as it joins his body on the floor and the images fade away back to the present, Viana now crying hot tears to mourn her dead mentor that she just watched die. She forces herself to the position his killer stood in and sniffed the area. Indeed there was a scent to follow. “If They are behind this… the police will never get anything anyway… They can take care of the body… I can’t do anything for him now except find that guy myself. He’s got the stink of the fucking royals…” With a look of disgust she’s off running to follow the scent, making sure to leave no trace she was ever there.
