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Sunday, January 2, 2011


I was in a room. I don't know for how long, but I was in a room in the corner of my mind. There was nothing there, just a single light that shone brightly. The walls were brightly painted in white, so bright that they seemed to shine. I was dressed in a simple shirt and pants, as white as the walls around me. I feel my chin, there's a stubble... just how long was I there?

The room wasn't very big. Big enough to sleep in, but without any bed. I never felt sleepy, or tired that ways, but when was day, when was night. I wasn't sure if it was a second, or an hour that passed, I couldn't tell anything...

It was like time had died.

I tried breaking the walls once, just thumping at the in anger, frustration. My fists, they never got hurt, just sort of bounced off the walls. This was like solitary in heaven, and I didn't know what to do.

At times I heard sounds, so close I could have sworn they were right behind me. Someone shouting, some screams... it was like they were so close, yet so far off, like whispers around me. I didn't know what I hated more, the silence or that.

The funny thing was when it all came to an end. I blinked once, and I was sitting on a bed in another room, this one with normal walls. There was a mirror, in front of me, and I could see my face staring back at me under a dirty orange light.

The first thing that surprised me was the scar. Just the tip of it was visible from the opening of my shirt collar. I felt through the fabric, and could feel it running down the side of my chest, all the way down to my stomach.

I hope you're still not pissed about that.

There was a sword in my chest, you jackass, what do yo think?

I still got us out of it.

And into what? Of all the things you could have done, what made you go and sign up with the fucking-

Shut it. I know you enjoyed it too.

Enjoyed it? I was stuck there, with no idea of how I had even gotten there, and I had to bluff my way through DAGAN!!! IT'S A BLOODY MIRACLE HE DIDN'T FIGURE IT OUT THE FIRST FUCKING TIME!!

We got out in the end, didn't we? And look at what all we've learnt. The best part, is that we fucking fooled them. The assholes think we're dead. 

They'll find out soon enough. They always end up knowing. But we're getting too far ahead.

The room had a dirty look to it, and there was a large metal door set into one of the walls. I went toward it and reached for the handle, turning it open. Outside, I could see a long corridor lit by a series of bulbs in the ceiling, illuminating the many doors set into the walls of the corridor, as well as the fully armed soldier who stood right in front of me

He saluted and jumped to attention, informing me that the director was waiting for me. I dumbly nodded, and walked past him, frantically trying to understand where the hell I was. By the time I reached the end of the corridor, to where it split into two, I had a rough idea of where I was. It was some sort of military base, where I couldn't tell, and I knew that for some reason, I wasn't here as a prisoner, which was again very hard for me to wrap my head around.

But it was the writing on the wall that did it. There, at the point where the corridor split into two was a board with various signs, pointing to the mess, communications room, interrogation center, research center, and so on until I could see the direction for the Director's office. The first that I noticed, was that everything was written in Hebrew, which then got me thinking when the hell had I learnt Hebrew. But it was the symbol of candles surrounded by wording that hit me like a thunderbolt. Or more accurately, the words written below it. 

HaMossad leModi'in uleTafkidim Meyuchadim 

Mossad. I was in the fucking Mossad.

I'll never forget those few seconds. I couldn't move. A single trickle of sweat trickled down the side of my face as I read those words again and again, trying hard to make something else of them. But all I could see was the name of  possibly the deadliest institute for intelligence and special operations in the world. 

And I was stuck in it.

Stuck? Bullshit, they wanted us there.

I was trying to figure to what to do, when I remembered the soldier's words. Silently, I headed left towards the Director's Office, now all the while wondering whether they were currently watching me or not.

The Mossad is Israel's answer to the CIA, to the KGB, the MI6. Formed in 1949, it has quickly risen to become one of the most feared agencies, having carried out numerous assassinations, rescues and infiltrations beyond Israel's borders. And those were just the ones the public knew about.

Trust me, I know this, but the Mossad are just scary. When you take the most fanatical people from a country of soldiers and train them in the arts of secrecy and murder, then you end up with some seriously fucked up people. They have access to information that no other agency knows, their sources are almost everywhere in the world. The bloody Mossad always knows. When on a mission, the Mossad doesn't care about anything but one thing, and one thing only: Israel herself. And they are willing to do anything, cross any line to protect it.

The Mossad are awesome! It was like I'd finally fond a place to be me! I don't know why I hadn't just gone there in the first place. It was a hell of a lot better that Hong Kong, for sure. 

I was still stuck in Germany, but I was getting so bored that I was stuck surfing the net. A opened a few articles on the attempt on the Queen'n life. Authorities were still combing the land, now spreading to other countries in Europe in collaboration with their governments. Took them long enough to do so. One of the articles even had a picture of me from the window. But it was taken so badly, that all you could tell was that it was a man, which narrows the search by about fifty percent.

But I was popular. The police, the MI6, the entire Royal Marines, even the SAS were after me. After some negotiations, the Italians, Germans and French joined in as well, but the French have been after me for years already, so it was no big deal really. 

But I'll admit that Europe was getting quite hot, and a shift was needed, though where to? See, this is the problem I always end up facing. When you have over a hundred countries in the world, which one to go to? So I started looking around, checking out possibilities. But I just couldn't decide. I almost threw the laptop out of the window in frustration.

I opened up the articles on the Queen attempt as well, scrolling down until I found a paragraph.

"Still no words from any authorities on the status of the manhunt for what the public is calling, 'The Assassin'. Despite visible evidence that not just Britain, but now many countries are utilizing their resources to hunt this man down, he has still managed to evade capture, which leads many to believe that he could be part of a certain intelligence agency of some foreign country, or at least has received training by said intelligence agency, though there is no credible evidence to prove this."

I smiled at that. Gotta love those idiots in the crowd who'll see a burning man fall to his death and think its a stunt jump. So, now I was a spy, or at least, I was thought to be one.

And that's what got me thinking. I'd like to be a spy, I wouldn't be bad at it. It was a nice thought, one of the most wanted men in the world now becoming a secret force for justice. 

But whose justice?

Two days later, I sent a mail. I got a reply back, to which I sent another mail, then I patiently waited. The phone rang exactly thirty seconds later.

I picked up. The voice on the other side spoke first.

"This line is secure. You can speak freely."

"Can I? You already know what I have to say. But I want to know your answer."

"If you are this man, we could arrest you within the hour, send you to London with a nice bow tie around your neck."

"I'm not that easy to catch."

The voice on the line chuckled. "We are better than the British, we do not fail so often."

"True, but I can still get by you if I have to."

I could hear the arrogance on the other side. "We will see..."

Just as I expected, the windows burst in a hail of glass as four men, dressed in black armor, leaped through the windows and landed on the floor, weapons ready and targeting through the room. 

But I was already behind the first one. I punched him in the shoulder, making him loosen his grip on his weapon. I then kicked the back of his shin, almost breaking it as he fell crashing to the ground. I grabbed his gun and shot the other three in their legs before I turned the barrel down on the guy below me, who was clutching his leg in pain. 

A phone strapped to his Kevlar jacket began to ring, I took it and spoke into the receiver.

"Did you like my audition?"

There was another voice on the line now, this one older. "No deaths. Very impressive. We will have a plane ready for you. Board it, come here."

"You won't hand me over?"

"We are still debating on that, though it is agreed that yo would be...useful to us. Board the plane. Come to Jerusalem. We will talk more on your arrival."

You should have never boarded the plane. Hell, you should have never sent that mail in the first place. 

Listen, the Mossad was like home to me, and Dagan may have been a cunt, I'll admit to that, but he knew how to get the job done. I can respect that.

I still remember the first time. The second he saw me, he paused and I could see him frowning. He knew something was wrong, but he still spoke.

"Sit down, Michael."

It took a moment for me to realize who he was talking to, but I nodded and sat. He took his time, pouring himself a glass, downing it, then pouring another one for me and himself.

"England called again." He said.

My eyebrows went up.

"As always, I told them that our reports revealed nothing on their mystery assassin. But we would search eagerly, as always."

He gave a sly smile. "They tried bribing us this time, offered us two Merlins for our 'efforts'. But I said no to the choppers. Israel does not want to be in debt to the Queen, nor do we think that you have outlived your usefulness."

I dumbly nodded, not sure of what to say.

He noticed that. "Why so silent today, Michael? Normally you can never stop speaking rubbish, threatening me with revealing state secrets, or promising to assassinate my mother." He gave a grin. "Though in all honesty, I would not mind you shooting my mother."

I smiled weakly at that. What else could I do?

"Anyways," he continued. "On to business. I know you came back from Argentina only last week, but we need to send you out again. We've found another one, and he'll be a little tricky."

He lifted a remote and pressed a button, pointing towards a wall in his office. It was actually a screen, and an image of an old man appeared. His white-blond hair was well groomed, and I could see gold chains and rings around his pudgy neck and fingers. His blue eyes shone with intensity, the evil kind.

"Von Sthahelin. Erich Von Sthahelin. Over thirty thousand Jews were tortured and then murdered under his authority. In the span of five months. After the end, he went into hiding, just like the rest. We finally fond him though."

Dagan turned to face me. "And this is where the tricky part comes in. Sthahelin is in Colombia. Worse, he is still in business, helping the Cartels their get richer through their cocaine trade. Which means he has their protection. Though I'm sure that won't be too much of  a problem for you."

I finally spoke. "Problem?"

"Yes. The usual please. You need to capture Erich Von Sthahelin and bring him back here for interrogation and then sentencing. As always, the usual resources are at your disposal, and you may choose any three Katsas, apart from yourself, to assist you. You will be leaving in three days."

And with that, the Director of the Mossad turned back to his paperwork, a signal for me to leave.       

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