Regression - Rise of Mythos

by Johnwalkson Stratikatter

  Spinning around Mendel carried Lyssa half way to the bed, before throwing her backwards. He watched as she gently landed on the soft mattress, her breasts swaying before finally resting to the sides of her torso.

  Laying next to her, he caressed the small of her back before they started to make love. Over time, the passion grew. Mendel could smell the lavender on her skin, but was broken from the moment when he felt Lyssa start to gently peck on his neck, and with her long nails scratch into his muscular back.

  “Lyssa!” he said playfully, “watch those claws.”

  “I’m sorry darling” she replied, biting her bottom lip softly, as she looked up to her lover. They resumed their sensual motion with Mendel thrusting deeper. Lyssa’s head tilted back as he kissed her lightly on her neck. The tempo rose with Lyssa’s breath lost in the moment as she exhaled in pleasure.

  Relaxing in the afterglow, he suddenly snapped back into reality. She was in sync and turned toward Mendel. “We have to move.”

  As Mendel entered the shower, Lyssa followed with a sly smile on her face. “What? Why waste a natural resource.”

  Lyssa finished first and left Mendel to finish getting ready.

  “Time is of the essence,” he thought to himself. As he grabbed the last of his belongings, he swiftly walked over to the kitchen to get a drink.

  “Lyssa, I’m ready to go; are you packed? We don’t have long.”

  Moving toward the open front door with his usual brisk gait, he hadn’t noticed the red suitcase sitting neatly on a stool adjacent to the well-stocked bar area, nor the lack of response to his question. He did, however, see in the distance the car that had helped him calmly escape hours earlier accelerating down the long driveway, dust billowing from the rear tires.

  Suddenly, Mendel noticed a systematic beeping sound and started to search the room to find out what it was. As he moved toward the red suitcase, the intensity of the sound rose to a fever pitch.

  At the last instant, Mendel realized. He quickly turned to run toward a large stained glass window that overlooked the lake. Moments later, a deafening explosion occurred directly behind him, somewhere near his beloved whisky collection.

  Three

  Cafe Firenze - Sheikh Hamdan Bin Zayed Bldg, Abu Dhabi,

  United Arab Emirates – 05:43

  THE TEMPERATURE IN the city was already rising fast – “Congratulations!” stated the man with the strange European accent, “Our Master will be pleased.”

  Lyssa sat across the table and noticed the sweat marks on his shirt. His partner seemed to be more accustomed to the heat and was sitting looking casual and relaxed.

  “The money,” Lyssa asked, with a pleasant yet direct tone.

  “The vials,” the man, quickly retorted.

  “Safe, stable and refrigerated, I assure you. I need to see proof of the transaction before we will hand them over.”

  “Lyssa, it seems your motives are not that of our Master. Yet, we are here today because he has created this opportunity. The time has come to reveal to the world what we really are, and those vials are the key. Consider his reaction and the consequences, when he hears the deal could not be completed because of a monetary transaction.”

  “He’s mocking me,” she thought. “Stay calm – a deal is a deal.”

  “Upstairs – room five-oh-one. Locked in a vault.” she replied.

  The Middle Eastern man now shifted in his chair. “Pass code!” he growled.

  “Money!” she hissed.

  “Enough!” said a strong deep voice behind Lyssa. She quickly spun around and noticed a third man sitting behind them, elegantly dressed, sipping coffee. “What is your account numb-”?

  Suddenly smoke filled the café and police stormed the room.

  “On the floor! On the floor now!” voices yelled through the thick gas that shrouded the coffee tables surrounding Lyssa and the three men. Suddenly Lyssa felt her arms being grabbed from behind, by what seemed to be a very large and strong man who picked her up off the chair and pushed her to the ground, her legs following in disapproval.

  She hit the floor with a thud and she could feel the man rest his knee deep into her lower back; tracing his arms down hers until it came to a stop at her wrists. As the cold handcuffs surrounded her delicate wrists she looked up and noticed the deep voiced Middle Eastern man being chased into the lobby of the building by Caucasian men dressed in dark suits.

  “MI6,” she thought, “Typical, they always dress like James Bond.”

  Her head spinning and delirious from the smoke, Lyssa was picked up off the floor by the man now at her side, supporting her underarms. As she swung around to see his face, her eyes turned to sheer surprise and her jaw dropped.

  “Mendel!” she cried in disbelief. “That’s not possible! I saw the explosion with my own eyes, you can’t be alive!”

  The statement seemed to catch the agent by surprise and he recoiled slightly. Composing himself, he grabbed hold of her upper arms squeezing them with a sense of urgency and brought her close so that she could clearly see his blue eyes, wide with anger.

  “How do you know my brother? What have you done with Mendel?!” Edmunds shouted.

  Lyssa’s mind was racing as fast as her heart, she could feel his breath hot on her cheeks and his firm grip still on her arms.

  “Answer the fucking question!” Edmunds repeated, shaking her in exasperation. “How do you know Mendel and what have you done with him?”

  “Not here,” she replied quietly, “It’s not safe.”

  “Where then?” Edmunds demanded, momentarily easing his grip and shifting his angry eyes from Lyssa to scan the café.

  The smoke had begun to clear, revealing the early morning breakfast set huddled under the tables fearing for their lives, their normally peaceful existence shattered by the intrusion.

  “I have a room upstairs, five-oh-one.”

  Lyssa’s voice brought Edmunds attention back to her as he pulled her in close again tightening his grip, “You better sing like a canary,” Edmunds seethed as he spun Lyssa round with such force her pretty brunette head couldn’t keep up with her slender body.

  He marched her briskly toward the lift lobby, hands cuffed behind her. “If this is a waste of my time…” Edmunds snorted, as he thumped the landing button.

  “It’s not safe here, the walls have ears,” Lyssa replied, in a hushed tone as the lift enunciator rang out.

  Edmunds lead her into the lift car and impatiently pushed the level five button a number of times, as if to hurry up the process of getting there.

  “I want answers and I suggest you give them to me if you know what’s good for you!”

  “All in good time, all in good time,” Lyssa retorted, her head nervously cocking slightly to the right.

  The lift car came to abrupt stop at level five and even though it was not a long time in the lift Edmunds was glad to get out. He shared his brother’s dislike for cramped spaces and most times, given the choice, he would prefer to take the stairs. However, in this case “Time was of the essence” he thought. “Lead the way” Edmunds said motioning with his head.

  Lyssa stepped out of the lift with Edmunds still firmly holding one of her slender arms and headed off down the long hallway. Reading the numbers, “504, 503, 502, 501. We’re here,” Lyssa blurted out trying to disguise the angst in her voice.

  “Where is the room key”? Edmunds asked impatiently.

  “In my bra” she replied. Edmunds raised his eyebrow in disbelief. “You’re kidding me, right”?

  “No, I always keep my room key there – it’s the safest place” Lyssa said with a wry smile starting to appear at the corner of her full red lips.

  Looking down momentarily, Edmunds noticed the light reflecting off the key, juxtaposed against the sheen of Lyssa’s cleavage as nervous sweat beaded down her chest.

  “Well, I sure as hell can’t get it out myself with my hands cuffed behind me, can I?” She paused for a moment. “What
is your name anyway and who are you”? Lyssa asked tersely.

  “I mean, I need to know, especially since you are about to put your hand down my dress,” she continued, feeling slightly more in control of the situation than she did five minutes ago.

  “You can stick with ‘Sir’ for now,” Edmunds retorted, “and I am not about to put my hand down anyone’s dress let alone yours”

  “So how do we do this then, ‘Sir’?” Lyssa shot back, feeling calmer as the minutes ticked away, and as she stared back into Edmunds eyes she was once more taken by how much he looked like Mendel, causing her mind to start racing again.

  “Ahem,” Edmunds cleared his throat like an embarrassed schoolboy about to deliver his first public speech.

  “I am un-cuffing you so you can get your room key and you better not try anything,” Edmunds added, as he reached around behind her to unlock the cuffs, which had left red welts on Lyssa’s wrists.

  He noticed for the first time her well-shaped buttocks, firm, round and plump, and for a moment he was distracted by his wandering mind. “They look like chicken drumsticks” he mused. Chuckling to himself, he inserted the key, releasing the handcuffs, which finally allowed Lyssa to rub her wrists in an attempt to stall for time and massage away the soreness.

  “Come on then,” Edmunds said, in a much calmer voice. “Let’s get in there, you have some explaining to do.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to get it out yourself?” Lyssa quipped, as she reached down between her well-shaped, generous breasts, pulled out the key and slipping it in to the lock of the door. As she turned the handle slowly, Lyssa took one last look down the hallway to make sure that no one was watching or had followed them.

  She opened the door fully, then disappeared into the dark room and, beckoning with her slender arm, she invited Edmunds in.

  Four

  STANDING AT THE entrance he pushed the door open as the glow from the hallway spilled in. Edmunds’ eyes followed the retreating shadows in the poorly lit room to where Lyssa stood. Her hands discreetly widening the window shade enough for her to peek through to the street below.

  “Well,” Edmunds stated, closing the door firmly behind him, “I didn’t bring you up for the view. Tell me what you know about Mendel.”

  Turning slowly, Lyssa paused, as her mind failed to make sense of the situation. She stepped forward and sat down in a leather reading chair.

  “I don’t have time for these games!” Edmunds growled, “If you are wasting my time I’ll send you-”

  “Wait!” interrupted Lyssa, “I’ll tell you want you want to know.”

  She sighed softly and began explaining how she and had Mendel met and the time they spent together. Edmunds listened intently, as he had not spoken to his brother since their falling out over the nature of his research. It seemed trivial now, that a difference in opinion led to him never seeing his brother again.

  As Lyssa spoke, Edmunds tried to make sense of it all. He was being overwhelmed by a wash of new information about his brother, but something didn’t seem right. Edmunds shifted his focus to Lyssa. Was it her slightly cocked head? Or maybe it was her index finger nervously pecking the armrest? Or perhaps it was the fact she was here in the first place. Edmunds wasn’t sure what it might be, but he was sure she was hiding something.

  “You said you saw the explosion,” interjected Edmunds. “Where were you when it happened?”

  Lyssa, taken back by the loaded question, quickly retorted.

  “Driving out to the shops. We needed supplies for the weekend.” She was caught off guard but was well practiced in the art of providing feasible alibis on demand.

  “Why wasn’t Mendel with you?”

  “He was taking a shower. I thought I could pop out and be back before he noticed,” Lyssa calmly answered.

  “When it happened, what did you do?”

  “Well, I was in shock. I rushed back, but the flames were too great so…”

  “So you fled the scene?”

  “Uh...”

  “The police never mentioned any witnesses.”

  “Uh...”

  “The police said that there were only tire tracks exiting the scene and these were made at speed! What are you not telling me!?”

  “OK! OK!” Lyssa shouted “I…”

  The crashing sound of the timber door being kicked in by a size eleven combat boot interrupted the conversation. Edmunds spun around, drawing two concealed Desert Eagle pistols from his lower back. Two men wearing military balaclavas opened up fire with suppressed MP7A1 submachine pistols. Realizing he was outgunned, Edmunds threw himself behind a nearby counter. The spray of bullets tore through the walls with a muffled patter as debris sporadically flew above Lyssa, who was hiding under the bed.

  The advancing intruders continued to empty their magazines into the room and Edmunds could smell the cordite and hear the brass shells hitting the floor. He knew if he did not act now he would soon be out of time.

  Crouching on the floor and staring down at the two upright barrels of his guns held close to his chest, Edmunds closed his eyes and exhaled. He stood up and straightened his arms whilst pivoting 180 degrees, his body swung in the direction of the nearest gunman as he squeezed the triggers repeatedly. The mechanical click of the hammer thrusting the bullet down the barrel and into the left shoulder of the gunman seemed to happen in silence. The force of the shot spun intruder anticlockwise before the second shot pierced his jugular, the third cracking through his sternum, throwing him off his feet.

  The remaining gunman glimpsed over at his comrade as his body fell limp on the floor. He then redirected his aim of his submachine pistol and the line of bullet holes followed to Edmunds position. However, the gunman had not accounted for his opponent’s skill as a combat solider. Before his line of fire could take the kill, the gunman had received bullets to his lower torso and right hand.

  Edmunds moved quickly toward the wounded man, kicking away his gun. When he pulled off the balaclava, he couldn’t believe what he saw. It was the asset on loan from the Abu Dhabi Police.

  “Abdul?” exclaimed Edmunds whilst standing over his former colleague, “why?”

  “He will get you;” Abdul said coughing up blood, “he is bigger than us – bigger than this,” he spluttered.

  “Who is?” Edmunds questioned.

  Abdul’s gaze began to fall from Edmunds toward the floor when he began trembling. He pointed his uninjured hand toward the foot of the bed and Edmunds followed this gesture to where he could see Lyssa fumbling the two vials into a backpack.

  “You have some explaining to do!” shouted Edmunds, still under the influence of adrenaline fuelling his body, “But first we must get out of here.”

  Out of options and out of time, Lyssa picked up her things and followed him toward the door. As they headed down the hallway Edmunds noticed the lift was approaching level five. Scanning the exits, they wouldn’t be able to make it to the stairs on the other side of the lift, instead Lyssa opted for the waste chute in the nearby annex.

  “Let’s use that,” Lyssa gestured, toward the chute.

  “What, that?! Oh no, I can’t fit in that,” proclaimed Edmunds.

  “Well do you have a better idea? I don’t think you’ll have enough bullets for what is about to come out the elevator,” reasoned Lyssa, “C’mon, don’t be a chicken!”

  “All right, fine. You first,” Edmunds said submissively as he helped Lyssa get into the narrow passage. She began sliding downwards as he heard the lift door open, followed by a number of shouted orders. Putting aside his claustrophobia, Edmunds tucked in his arms and fell awkwardly, yet surprisingly quickly, to the bin at the bottom of the chute, narrowly missing Lyssa.

  Scouting the surrounding car park for a suitable getaway vehicle, they found a white ’96 Range Rover. Edmunds and Mendel grew up with their father’s Range Rover, so he was well aware of how to get it started without the keys.

  Less than twenty
seconds later the engine was in action and they were ready to go. Edmunds was anticipating resistance, so he planted his foot on the gas as the four-wheel drive neared the security boom gate. Crashing through the aluminium barrier arm with ease, the noise attracted the attention of three guards. Reacting to the breach, the armed men fired shots but Edmunds’ evasive driving tactics allowed him to escape down a side alley. He continued driving for about eight hundred meters, weaving through narrow streets and back ways before rejoining the main flow of traffic.

  “I think we’ve lost them,” stated Lyssa, looking over her right shoulder and then to the side mirror.

  “Hmm,” grunted Edmunds, “You didn’t finish what you were saying earlier.”

  “Now’s not the time, we need to get further away.”

  Driving in silence for several minutes, Edmunds looked straight ahead. All of a sudden, he slammed on the brakes and pulled to the side of the road.

  Turning to Lyssa, Edmunds ordered “Last chance. Talk now or I’ll leave you here!”

  “Ok, Ok! I’ll explain but can we please keep driving; they won’t be far behind.”

  Begrudgingly, Edmunds pulled back out into traffic and looked over toward Lyssa as she turned to face him.

  “I just want you to know I didn’t plan for it to turn out like this,” Lyssa started, “but Mendel always told me that if anything were to happen that we were to stick to the plan.”

  “The plan?” questioned Edmunds, “The plan to kill my brother?!”

  “No, you don’t understand!” cried Lyssa, unable to hold back the tears, “I didn’t kill your brother; he was the love of my life.”

  Suspicious of the sudden flood of emotions from the previously composed suspect, Edmunds paused, waiting for her to continue.

  Wiping her eyes, Lyssa carried on. “We, well, I mean Mendel, has been working on cutting edge research.”

  “Yeah, playing God.” sneered Edmunds, remembering why he’d initially had the disagreement with his brother.

  “It’s not like that.”

  “You have no idea of the potential ramifications – the extent of damage that could be caused is unfathomable,” Edmunds declared.