A Man Called 'Greeves'

The speech was touching. But it annoyed him to the very bone. The hooded figure stood behind the glass, watching the TV behind the screen. He had actually forgotten about the day's ongoing celebration, and had decided to pass this route to watch it. It still brought the same old feeling he always felt for the past two years.

Disappointment.

The figure walked away, whistling a tune to himself. He crossed the road, stopping in front of a stall to buy two ice cream cones. He didn't bother to collect his change and by the time the ice cream man could call him back, he was long gone. The hooded figure walked down the sloped road, taking a left turn and disappearing through a torn fence. He made an abrupt stop, and remained quiet. He banged on the door twice. A young boy no older than seven opened the door. The hooded figure handed him a cone.

"So," he began, "Anything new today?"

The boy nodded, "Yeah, they don't like you."

"That's not new."

"No, today's gotten worse."

"Really? How so."

The boy began to crunch on the cone. "The muscle guy said you were a piece of…"

"I get it. Anything else?"

"Yeah. They brought in some new guys. They are weird. And bad."

"How bad?"

The boy hesitated. "They've killed tons of people. Lots of 'em."

The man nodded, handing him a coin. He turned around to leave. "Stay safe boy,"

"That should be my line," the boy said. The hooded man smiled. He walked out of the small alleyway and headed south. He resumed his whistling, watching around him. Winter was two months away, and the weather was already getting cold. Guys had already set up fires in old gallons and were standing around them. Children played in the middle of the streets and some mothers had come together to make a big meal for the neighborhood. That's how Downtown celebrated Heroes Day.

Cars seldom came here, so the streets were full of these mini fires. Some young teens were carrying plates of candy and pastries. The hooded man took one. It was nice, especially it's bitter after taste. He continued down the road until he reached a stop in front of an old abandoned ware house. Two bulky men stood around a fire, talking about some football match. He'd watched the match personally and he agreed with the one with the skull tattoo on his cheek. The other guy, well, as convincing as he was, he was wrong.

He waved at them, and after recognizing him, they nodded, allowing him entry. He walked into the building. Men and women stood around, watching his every move. Some held guns, others wielding cutlasses and spiked knuckles. He walked straight up to the four that stood round a small table, a map and some bullets on it.

This was the One End, an underground group of fighters who stood to oppose the status quo. Their leaders, or the Tyrants, composed of the muscle, Lex Jnr. Then there was Latifa Chen. The Great Wall. Despite her somewhat fragile appearance, she was as sturdy as the Earth itself. Next to her was Benjamin. He had the ability to become whatever he touched. Quite handy.

The last person wasn't someone he knew. He was tall, with brown hair and green eyes. He wore an O2 mask, with tubes connecting to a gas tank on his back. He wore some kind of stealth suit, very dark and very cool.

Weird…and bad.

He was a mercenary.

The hooded figure smiled. Well, getting ones hands dirty was pretty normal on the streets. He reached the table and smiled, removing his hood.

"So," he said, "Have you guys decided what to do? I see that you have a new friend over there."

"We have," Lex said, "And we are doing it my way."

"The plan that involves smashing your way through the streets, causing a riot in town?" The man shook his head, "Sure, it'll be over in seconds, the Conquerors won't even need to step there."

"Well we are trying to get word out about the One End." Latifa said, "Concealing it is not something that we even want to consider.

"Guys, c'mon," Benjamin said, "Now isn't the time to fight."

"Actually," The man in the oxygen mask said, "I think this gentleman has a point."

All eyes turned to him. The man scrutinized him. The O2 man continued,

"If you guys are aiming to attract the attention of the Conquerors, it has to be something big, and at the same time something intimidating."

"We know that." Lex said, "That's why we attack their biggest assets first, the bank."

"The bank may be a thorn to their side, but then there are Special Officers as skilled as Conquerors. They can take you down within seconds. Not to mention intimidation."

"So what do you suggest we do?" Latifa asked.

"I would like to hear it from him…Mr.…"

"It's Greeves." The man said, "Just Greeves. And you are?"

"Pietro."

Greeves looked at him, scrutinizing him again. This Pietro was dangerous. But he was hiding something. But then again, he himself was hiding something as well, so…

"Would you really like to know?"

Pietro smiled.

The Tyrants dispersed shortly after hearing Greeves plan. Though not in agreement, it was the only way to progress.

Greeves still remained, looking at the map that lay in front of him. One step at a time, he told himself, one step at a time.

"Do you have anything you want to discuss? Or perhaps your friend does." Greeves said, not looking at Pietro who still stood in front of him.

"My friend? I wonder what you mean by that."

Greeves could tell that he was smiling. His distrust for him grew all the more. And his friend, a man sporting a Mohawk and a metal right arm, was all the more suspicious.

"I just wanted to discuss your endgame that is all." Pietro said.

"To topple down the entire Project Conquer. That is all."

"May I ask why?"

Greeves looked at him. "You are a mercenary. I thought you guys were only interested in money."

"You can tell."

"It was just a guess." Greeves said. Pietro let out a hoarse sound which appeared to be a laugh. After calming down (and a little coughing) Pietro replied.

"Well, unlike other mercenaries, I like to know the full details of the job beforehand. And besides," He glanced over his shoulder to look at Lex and Latifa, "It seems you are the brains of this charade."

"I try my best."

"It's good enough."

Greeves took a deep breath, "You live on the other side of town, so you don't know how things go down here. The people that live here having sleep with one eye open, lest some guy breaks in and steal all their stuff. People are raped, killed, abused while they constantly talk about equality."

Pietro nodded. "Admirable. Admirable indeed." He walked over to Greeves side until Greeves could hear his hoarse breathing, "But as big as the goal sounds, it is still lacking."

Pietro proceeded to walk away, "There are bigger heads to cut off, Mr. Greeves. Way bigger heads to cut off."