The Rising Sun: Episode 3 Read online

A large room, with a rare collection of furniture and items spread within. The windows raised over the walls were majestic and large, allowing thick beams of shining, silver moonlight to glide through and fill the insides. A lonesome figure stood at the end of the large room, seemingly absorbed in thought. He was adorned in an elegant brown suit. He stood opposite to the door of the room, which lay sealed shut behind him. The silence in the large, palace like room was absolute. The man in the brown suit stood on the spot in his thought absorbed state for a while.

  Then, the room door behind him slid open. A boy in his mid teens with unkempt crimson hair walked though, carrying what looked like a body over his shoulders. Ion stopped halfway inside the large room, heaved the body of Dyano off his back and threw it to the ground heavily. The body rolled once, coming to a stop a few feet before the man in the brown suit.

  “It’s done.” Ion announced, dusting his hands.

  The man in the brown suit slowly turned, his eyes falling on the body on the floor. Grando stared at the unconscious body for a few long seconds, before slowly raising his gaze to Ion with a smile.

  “Of course it is,” he said, nodding. “That would have been decided the very day I met you.”

  “It wasn’t as hard as you said it was,” said Ion, strolling forward casually. “The guy was hiding at the edge of the outer spectrum. So what now?”

  Grando walked upto the body of the unconscious anti terrorist leader, and unleashed a flat kick to the man’s belly. The limp body was thrown to the other side.

  “Dear Dyano had founded a prominent special forces squad,” explained Grando. “An anti terror group, which was in close ties with the Naxim itself. He was threatening to bring down not only my terrorist organisation, but almost every other in this cluster, and several other criminal oganisations. He had become a threat to countless illegal organisations across the spectrum, and we needed to put a stop to him. Sensing danger for himself, he fled, going into hiding. For a long time, he had vanished. But I knew just the thing to have him found and brought down.” He looked back up at Ion, smiling. “Just the thing … the one unfailing method: I decide to pitch in a call to my very favourite bounty hunter/assassin … and the best one there is. I get Ion on the case, to track down and bring this man back. And what a surprise,” He strolled over towards Ion, circling him slowly. “He returns with the prize in less than a week.” He patted Ion on the back gently. “This is the reason I just love mystics.”

  “It was too bad you wanted him alive,” said Ion, an inheld growl in his tone. “I would’ve enjoyed taking him apart.”

  “I know you would’ve,” laughed Grando. “So would I. but unfortunately, I need Dyano alive. I’m going to hold him ransom, against the other members of his squad. It’s the only way we can stop them all.”

  He gave Ion another friendly pat. “I’ve got another one I could use your help in tracking down, by the way.”

  “Dead or alive?” asked Ion with a sense of savage eagerness.

  “Alive.” answered Grando, and Ion’s look of eagerness slackened. But Grando gave a harsh chuckle. “Alive … but only so we can torture him to death. And you can join in with that.”

  The savage fervour was re kindled in Ion’s face. “All right, then.”

  “This is a particular vigilante whose been bothering me for some time now.” Grando explained. “He’s gonna be rather hard to catch … But not for you, of course.”

  Ion thought for a moment, and then nodded. “Let me see his details.”

  Grando stuffed his hand into his suit pocket, and drew out a folded piece of paper. The details of the new target, with everything the bounty hunter needed to know of it. He unfolded it and saw the blurred picture of the vigilante, the target who had been eluding them for so long now. The picture was taken in another of their bases, and the man had been captured in a speedy sprint. Grando handed the paper to Ion. The boy’s brow contracted in a slight frown as he ran through the paper.

  “We think he’s a member of the Special Forces, working behind a mask.” explained Grando. “But we aren’t too sure. We know that he works alone, and that he uses an array of powerful, fancy gizmos to do what he does: fight down terrorists. No non mystic has given us this much of a threat. He’s too dangerous. I’ve gotta get rid of him. I’m willing to pay a grand price of three thousand for him.”

  Ion lowered the paper, still frowning. “Three thousand, huh?” He gave a second’s thought, and then nodded. “Ok. I’ll do it. But I’ll start on this one in a day or two.” He folded the paper and pocketed it.

  Grando nodded. “Of course, a good hunter/ assassin needs his rest, doesn’t he?”

  “Who needs rest?” laughed Ion, turning and strolling back towards the door. “You’re forgetting that I’ve got tons other jobs from tons other mafias and terrorists.” His lips twitched in an unpleasant smile. “And most of them don’t need me to bring the prize back alive … and that’s just the part I love, about what I do.”

  He turned and strode back out the door, the brown suited Redling staring after him with a faint grin.

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