Chapter Text
The second he steps out of the car and on the wet sidewalk, Neil knows he’s made a huge mistake in the order of clothes he’s worn. A fluffy, grey pullover under a thick, black overcoat that is decorated with a hideously orange-maroon scarf hanging loosely around his neck. The generous gift of Riko last year, the scarf was bought precisely for the sole purpose of being the perfect match for Neil’s auburn hair color. If Neil didn’t know any better, he would have thought Riko was being a sentimental “brother”. But Neil does know better. In fact, he knows exactly why Riko buys Neil his belongings with careful examinations. It is just another, rather horrendous way to remind him of who is he and who he is supposed to be.
Neil thinks Riko is wasting his time, though. Because he doesn’t need reminders anymore. He’s stopped needing that almost fourteen years ago. He’s already accepted his true nature and who he is; no need to cry over it anymore. That ship has sailed.
Neil looks up at the gloomy-looking sky that is battered blue with depressing, late-autumn clouds. The purple-indigo hue is yet another disgusting reminder of the bruises he is nursing on his body right now. He wonders if his eyes are reflecting the blue in them with more intensity than ever. He decides that it doesn’t matter anymore; and that he has more important things to think about.
Like how the weather isn’t as cold as he anticipated; and now the pullover seems a bit too excessive. As a cherry on top, he hadn’t considered wearing a lighter shirt underneath so he could take off the pullover in a public bathroom, or something. He has to tolerate the heat and ignore the ugly feeling of sweating despite the chilly air until he gets to his designated room.
A faint buzzing in his right pocket finally startles him enough to move. Neil lets go of his baggage and pulls his phone out; already tired of the conversation he’s going to have with whoever is calling. It doesn’t matter who the caller is; because not many have his number anyway. So, it’s either Riko, or Jean, or Kevin, or Nath-
“Jean,” Neil says in lieu of hello. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Did you get there?” Jean asks. Neil hears some shuffling in the background. Jean is in bed, he assumes.
“I certainly did,” Neil says and pulls up the baggage’s handle so he can use its little wheels and drag it behind him. “But I’m sure you aren’t calling because you’re worried about my safety.”
“Today is one of the rarest, best days of my life,” Jean drawls and tries to yawn mutely. “Why would I taint it with being worried about you—who happens to be the only problem I have in my life?”
Neil starts walking down the sidewalk; the baggage following him with a white noise of wheels rolling on the concrete. He doesn’t try to hide the smile in his voice as he speaks, “you already did taint it with calling your only cute problem.”
Neil is good at many things. He can solve the most nauseating math problems in his head; knows his geography without the need of the dear Google Map; and can run like he is a professional marathon runner. One of his guilty pleasures is that he knows how to bake; even though he isn’t fond of sweets. He learned it as way of coping mechanism and then it just stayed with him. However, his most useful talent is his ability in antagonizing almost any human being he’s ever met in his entire life. This is what he loves doing especially when it comes to Jean; who somehow still hasn’t given up on him after years of withstanding Neil’s smart mouth.
“Neil, with all due respect to your mother and father,” Jean says, “you may be anything they say you are, but cuteness is not one of your virtues; I’m afraid.” His tone indicated he was already done with Neil’s antics.
Neil feigns a gasp, “how dare you, I’m the perfect example of both handsomeness and cuteness.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ve seen the way people drool over your sliced-up body,” Jean says and Neil can literally feel him rolling his eyes over the phone.
“If that doesn’t lure them in, my great slicing-up skills should do.” Neil quips, his faint smirk staying on his chapped lips.
Jean huffs a dry laugh and then Neil hears the beeping sound of the coffee machine. “Have you reached the hotel yet?” he asks and Neil knows the real talk is starting.
“Not yet, but I’m getting there,” Neil watches the red light going yellow and before he speeds up and crosses the street as a passing car honks its horn. “Couldn’t risk dropping by the location.”
“You and your paranoid ass,” Jean says, “everyone knows who the fuck you are; why bother?”
Neil notices the neon sign of the decent-looking hotel and slows down to look like a normal traveler going about his normal day. “Riko said not to draw any unnecessary attention. Although, I’m still confused why he didn’t just ask me to marmalize him.”
“Marmalize?” Jean doesn’t bother hiding his mocking tone when he repeats the verb in a British accent. “Let me guess, your uncle uses that ancient word?”
“Mom, actually,” Neil says but doesn’t try to defend himself for his weird vocabulary choices. “She loved the aesthetic sound of it.”
“Sure she did,” Jean seems dubious as he says that. “Anyway, Riko wanted me to make sure you won’t get yourself in trouble on the first day of the mission. I tried telling him that his worry is useless because you will throw yourself under a moving train simply out of spite.”
Neil stops in front of the entrance doors of the humble hotel and wonders what to eat for breakfast. He wonders if their coffee is trash and whether he should just buy a Starbucks and consider it done. The thought of the greasy bacons makes his stomach churn in agitation. Maybe some toast and cheese are decent enough. He doesn’t need to get diarrhea in an unknown environment; especially since he didn’t bring more than two pairs of brief boxers with him. The mission is supposed to be finished under seventy-two hours; so, it makes sense if he hasn’t packed up more.
He can buy dozens of said underwear if it comes to that point.
“Both of you need to calm your filthy asses,” Neil says, “I know what I’m doing. This is not my first mission, nor will it be the last.”
He hears Jean hum noncommittally. “Not if I kill you today.”
“People think I’m the petty one, but here you are,” Neil says and watches as a man exits the hotel and as the door swings open, Neil rushes inside because why not. The warm air of the lobby gently caresses his frozen cheeks and nose. He smells Tabacco and coffee in the air.
“Nah, Riko is by far the pettiest man ever created since Cain was born. Second is Kev, then you.”
Neil huffs a scoff and nods at the staff as he walks towards the information desk. “I beg to differ. I’m the fourth one, as Riko likes to say. You know, the whole ‘four sounds like death in Japanese’ speech. Very motivational.” He sounds unimpressed as he speaks.
“Informative as always.”
“Alright, if your maternal instincts allow, I should get going now,” Neil mocks.
“Yeah, fuck off,” Jean says and the call is immediately cut off before Neil can taunt him any longer. Fucker didn’t even try to deny Neil’s accusation.
Neil sighs and stuffs his phone in his pocket before repainting his bored face with his business smile and starting the expected conversation with the woman behind the desk. After taking his keys, he gets inside the elevator with four other people, bears the awkward silence, and eventually locks himself up inside his tiny room. Only after making sure the windows are sealed and checking the buildings across the street for potential snipers, does he allow himself to relax properly.
He lies on the bed for a few seconds to let his stiff back and neck loosen up to ease the pain. But if he thinks his dear skeptical brain would let him chill out; he must be a fool. Every time his mind provides ‘what if’s and ‘just in case’s, he knows he will not be able to sleep at night unless he does as his mind says. It’s a battle he can’t win any time soon in this lifetime.
Neil knows the bathroom’s ventilator isn’t big enough for an adult to sneak through—he still checks for installed devices inside it. Then under the bed, in the nightstands and behind them, inside the small plant’s vase near the window, and on the elegant legs of the wooden table and chair. He stops next to the bed and observes the sheets for a second before pushing them aside and checking for any other potential threats. He punches the too soft and fluffy pillows for anything solid and even smells the sheets. The decent scent of detergent fills his nostrils and makes him calm down a bit.
As far as lethal poisons go, he knows he could never detect ones like arsenic or thallium; so, he gives up on that one. If today is going to be his last day, he might as well stop wasting his time and die with a full stomach. As a way to distract his mind, he thinks about the options the hotel has for breakfast and wonders if the accessibility was worth the paranoiac thoughts afterwards.
Neil decides to go out for breakfast in the end.
He takes his phone, wallet, a Colt, a Böker Plus, and locks his room again before leaving for the nearest café. Mentally, he chides his noisy demons and tells them this is the best offer they will have; so, fuck whoever tries to kill him with a coffee in the nearest café. He cannot both act like a normal civilian and take ten firearms with him into a store of any kind.
Although a fleeting thought, he wishes he was back in his own territory where he could use his weapons without the need for putting up a façade. Here, in this city, he knows he cannot act recklessly as it is neither the Wesninski’s and, on a bigger scale, nor the Moriyama’s territory. If he hurts anyone here, nobody can save his sorry ass anymore. And perhaps that is why Riko is hyper-worried and Jean goes out of his way to check up on him. Perhaps—no. Certainly, that is why Kevin has chosen this region for his noble escape game.
Neil knew he should have stopped Kevin from watching that Prison Break series and reading all those historic events about revolutions and resistances.
The problem is that, he never thought Kevin Day would have the balls to defy his master. Kevin was the son of Kayleigh Day, a late assassin, who worked directly under Master Tetsuji for years before she was killed in a mission. She had a great career and a bright future ahead of her, until Kevin came around. Nobody knows why, but after a three-year mission of going undercover, she had come back to Tetsuji with Kevin in her arms. It seems like Tetsuji is the only man who knows why and how Kayleigh got pregnant. The secret died with her and Tetsuji took Kevin in as a compensation for her shortcomings. It wasn’t like Kevin had any other family members to save him from his sealed destiny. Tetsuji trained him to become a sniper; and Kevin did not disappoint the Moriyamas.
So, he became Riko’s righthand man immediately. As pre-planned.
Neil spots the café he’d noticed on his way to the hotel. He claims the only table in the corner of the café and orders waffles with butter and coffee. Then he scans the small room for any suspicious faces. The café is quite calm and empty for a Saturday morning. Two girls are sitting at a table chatting away about their lives; while a man is typing down on his MacBook and eating his sandwich. Three other men are discussing politics and why the country sucks ass. Some person is waiting for their takeout. Besides these casual routines, nothing seems out of character for a typical café.
While waiting for his order, Neil takes his phone out and opens a short report that Jean had sent him about Kevin’s known whereabouts. It is written in codes; and some words were in binary numbers. Neil has no trouble reading the secret languages; as it is a normal thing to expect. If these documents are found by the FBI; by the time they finally figure out how to decode the message, the higher-ups have dealt with the crisis and the message will mostly definitely be outdated information. Neil trusts Ichirou and his mysterious powers in the state. Fuck knows how he pulls the strings; but he does, somehow.
Kevin Day ran away exactly a year ago around this time of the year. It took Riko two months to find his trail and find out exactly where he was hiding. The sneaky little bastard was smart in many ways to make sure he would be safe and sound for a while. Riko could not touch him in this city and Ichirou had made it clear that he did not want unnecessary ‘inconveniences’ for finding a nobody. To Ichirou Moriyama, Kevin Day is not important enough as an investment to cause a ruckus for bringing him back. He had thousands of other snipers doing the same exact job Kevin did.
But things are different for the second son, Riko. Riko does not have the same level of power that his brother has; and he needs to latch onto whatever he has in order to keep himself aground. The more men he loses, he weaker he gets, and the easier can his brother get rid of him. Riko has an invisible rope around his neck that lifts him up a little each time he makes a mistake. To keep himself stable, he’s put leashes on Kevin, Jean, and Neil. With Kevin being gone, the weights are imbalanced and his rope has gotten up drastically. It almost brought Neil and Jean an early death—the consequences of Riko dancing on the borders of insanity.
When his order is placed in front of him, Neil decodes the geographical coordinates of the exact hideout of the Foxes. The reminder of the Moriyamas’ ridiculous power gives him the creeps once again. Neil recalls the time they had found Kevin’s whereabouts months ago. Riko had a whole dramatic show to tell everyone how Kevin was foolish in hiding and how naïve he was to think he could escape the Nest; the home of the Moriyamas’ hitmen. The Ravens, so to be called. Neil had asked Riko when they would be going after him; and Riko had said that since Kevin was a ‘beloved brother’ to him, he would allow him some time out as an unpaid vacation. He said; “Kevin must have been stressed lately and he needs some time to freshen up; otherwise, he would be of no use to us. I’ll tell you when to bring him back home.”
The unpaid vacation has been going on for eight months more or less; and with each day passed, Neil got more and more worried about his friend’s inevitable fate. Death would be an easy way out—Kevin would wish to be killed immediately. But oh no, that is not how Riko works. Kevin must know. He knows. He watched Riko punish Jean and Neil in front of him as a lesson.
Suddenly, all the scars on his body feel fresh and burning.
Neil closes the tap once he memorizes the fastest route to the Foxhole Google has suggested; and starts eating. He decides the coffee isn’t so bad and he can come here again if he feels like it. But he can’t frequent a place more than two times for security reasons; so, the good coffee was going to be a memory.
Changing his fancy outfit for a more causal one, he rechecks the route on Map; and realizes it takes about one hour and a half to reach there by foot. He knows taking a taxi or almost anything else is much easier than literally walking there; but he doesn’t want to risk trusting the public transportation for a death mission. Jean would probably laugh in his face for his exaggeration in such things; but Neil never had a good feeling going to those crowded places by choice. Too many unknown people equal a high risk of potential threats; and a high potential rate provokes an impulsive reaction using weapons from someone like Neil. And that is not good. Just, not good.
He decides that walking has its advantages; after all. He can learn more about the city and check the blind spots around the neighborhood for when he would need them. Also, now in lighter clothes he can appreciate the gentle coolness of the air better. He could use a walk.
And, well of course, he was in no rush to get there and spoil Kevin’s fun so fast.
Neil plugs his earphones in and chooses his ‘walking’ playlist. He immediately wishes he could run; but despite the calm day and the almost empty sidewalk; he knew running like he was trying to outrun his demons would only make people more suspicious of this newcomer. He pushes the urges down and walks like a normal person; or at least he thinks he does.
While checking each and every store and building on his way; Neil’s brain gets bored enough to suggest reviewing what he already knows of the Foxes—whatever is left of them; that is. David Wymack is the man who created the unofficial group almost ten years ago; which was then all about gathering the cast-outs of the society together and form a ‘family’. He is a lacrosse coach at a state university in this city; and he found those losers via the requitement system he’d organized. For some reason, which was revealed years later, Wymack decided to help these rejected children redeem for their wrongdoings and fucked-up pasts and try to build a better future for themselves while they still could. Whether he is successful in it or not, Neil isn’t sure about. He never bothered with checking Wymack more than what he is supposed to know about him as Kevin’s long-lost father.
It was so typical of someone like Kevin to try to build a home with his father once he found out about him. Riko could have cut on the two months of surveying if he’d only listened to Jean. Unfortunately, Riko is such a self-centered prick that he’d rather eat his own balls for dinner than accept that his ‘lowly’ servants are smarter than he is.
If Riko had installed a mind-reading chip inside Neil’s head and could listen to his opinions, Neil would have been the bullmastiffs’ dinner for two weeks straight.
The blood-soaking image brings an infamous Wesninski smile on Neil’s dried up lips. He sometimes forgets how scary his face can be for normal people—as is for the woman who runs past him and probably considers him a pervert. He quickly tries to wipe it off of his face and loosen the muscles of his cheeks.
From what their informants told them, the Foxes now are doing charity work for homeless kids and children from abusive households. The active, official members are Danielle Wilds, Renee Walker, Matt Boyd, Allison Reynolds, Seth Gordon, Katelyn Smith, Robin Cross and Andrew and Aaron Minyard. Neil recognizes the names from the college’s girls’ and boys’ lacrosse teams few years ago. Many others had come and gone, but these few had stuck around for years now. This is as small as the Foxes were; as insignificant as a so-called ‘street gang’ can get. And Kevin chose them both because of his father and how unimportant they were for Mafia gangs like the Moriyamas. He’d almost succeeded in misleading them, but Kevin Day is famous for being an unlucky child in many regards.
Amongst the Foxes, perhaps the most interesting members could be Renee Walker and the Minyards. Renee Walker’s changed identity and her being a former member of a gang definitely caught Neil’s eyes the first time he saw the profile. She seemed to be a good Christian girl now with nothing bad ever recorded in her file after she started believing and changed her path in life. The purity was too glaring compared to the darkness preceding it that it made Neil gag with pure disgust. In Neil’s experience, nobody could change so drastically to become a saint. Asking for forgiveness from a deity is not going to change what fucked-up things you’ve done to people. Neil believes that there is no redemption for people like him and Renee. Only retaliation, perhaps.
As Neil passes an intersection and makes eye contact with a man with blond hair and green eyes, he cannot help but remember the Minyards and the normal-looking pictures he’d seen in the files. The Minyards had the same boring details of a typical white man; blond hair, hazel eyes, pale skin, and ironically very, very short. Not that Neil is one to judge their poor genetic luck; as he himself is not very far ahead of them in that game. With only three inches on the Minyards, he can guess his height is the last intimidating factor of him as the Butcher. If only he had his father’s height, he’d be the complete package of a Wesninski. Too bad his mother’s genes decided to show themselves there.
Andrew Minyard is the one that seems as dangerous as Renee Walker to Neil.
Well, not really for Neil. Neil can best any of the Foxes in a fair fight any day; even if he has internal bleeding and a concussion to nurse. Renee could have been an interesting opponent if she hadn’t given up on the fighting part years ago. And Andrew… well he is the mysterious one for Neil. From what Neil has collected, Andrew’s history of brutal violence is not a top secret to anyone. He sure is strong—probably stronger than Neil in terms of sheer physical power, and he knows his way around knives. But no matter how well he swings a knife or throws a fist, Neil is the one trained for being a murderer. Andrew does what he does for self-defense and perhaps protecting others. Neil does what he does for the sole purpose of killing. Those are two very different aspects of holding a knife.
That and the fact that Neil has lost the count of his victims.
The face of his latest victim forces him to stop walking; and Neil looks at his phone to see if he’s there yet. He is, as Map says that only two blocks are left of his straight path to boredom.
The ‘secret’ hideout turns out to be a regular two-story ranch amongst others which are surrounded by taller buildings from all angles. Neil noticed that because he walked here—another advantage to walking; he reminds himself. The house appears worn down; with it’s gray, wooden walls and the wet-swollen porch. The neighborhood is not a quiet one, though; and there is a park right across it which attracts the children from all over the place. The parents and caretakers are sitting on the benches and look after their beloved kids. Best place to join and act like a worried parent in order to stalk the Foxes. The number of cars parked near the sidewalks on two sides is decent enough if he ever decides he needs a car to get there. He can always give Jean a heads-up and a car would be his while he is in the town.
Neil crosses the street and sits on a bench as if to rest a bit. He smiles at a fellow neighbor and engages in a small talk to blend in. The neighbor asks about him, and he easily lies about being here to visit a dear friend who lives in ‘that house’. The neighbor looks at the direction and his face lights up with recognition.
“Oh, such lovely people, they are!” says the man, “they bring candies and snacks for the kids. They have a whole charity going on for donations for the kids, you know. Ever since they bought the house, the neighborhood has become a calmer and safer place. Now, we can dare bring our kids out and not get mugged, or something. The old ladies say it’s because of their faith.”
Neil hums with a small smile at that useless information. He almost goes to say that it is certainly not because of God that the neighborhood has gotten rid of its ‘bad people’; but decides against it. He is not here to ruin the Foxes’ false façade; especially that of Renee.
Looking back at the house, Neil wonders if they are home right now.
As if the universe wanted to prove a point, someone opened the door of the house; and Neil immediately pulls his hood over his too unique hair and keeps his face towards the neighbors and their gossips; while his eyes remain on the door. The person who comes out is dressed in black from head to toe, as if going for a funeral. When they turn to face the street and a matte black Maserati beeps in response, does Neil realize who they are. Only one of the Foxes had a Maserati who also had the balls to park it in cheap neighborhoods.
Andrew Minyard.