Wounded Warriors and Peace

Basil Iraklidis, a strong warrior breed for only one purpose, to serve but soon, willed to fight against his creators.

Clair Underwood, an orphan, a warrior for most of her life, driven by the loss of something she never knew, but faced with the chance for retribution, she finds it is not all it seems, now the world doesn't seem so black or white, right or wrong.

* * * * * * * * * *

Clair looked through the window of the airplane, seeing nothing but darkness, she should have been asleep but she wasn't, the events of the week before still haunted her, she had been so sure of what she wanted. The urge to tear up consumed her and hugging herself she leaned more into her seat. The silence in the first class lounge suddenly felt too loud if that was even a thing. Standing up she moved towards the bar, it was empty, the bartender wasn't there, that didn't matter, she didn't want to drink any way. Supporting her hands on the bar surface, she hoisted herself over it, hoping nobody had noticed. It seemed nobody had, falling down she hugged her knees, allowing the guilt for the first time to consume her, seeing each one of her victims and wondering which ones had been parents, sisters, brothers, she'd always known , but it had never mattered, now it did, biting her fists she tried to quiet her sobs. A hard tap on the bar above startled her from her reflections, stiffening and calming her breathing, she hoped the person would go away. She was given her answer, when she heard tapping again, only this time harder, with impatience and anger. Cleaning her face with the back of her hand, she stood up, and was met by a pair of eyes, green eyes, opening her mouth she progressed to ask what he wanted, but more to tell him to leave her alone, but before she could, he said

"Do you have more of that stuff you gave me at the beginning of the flight" in a gruff voice

A dawning realization occurred to her; he thought she was the bartender.