Eye of the Syndicate

by Drew Avera

  “Is that what you think happened, that I put the hit on you?”

  “I’m certain of it.”

  Etan nodded, a smirk curling his lips with vile satisfaction. “Then you have a lot to learn about trust. I just wanted to steer you back on course. The suggestion to end you permanently came from someone else’s lips.” Etan stepped to the side and out from the shadows a familiar figure stepped partially into the light. Even with his head facing the ground, I knew exactly who it was.

  “Pollux?”

  My friend and confidant raised his head, his eyes peering back at me with the condemnation of a man filled with hatred.

  “You did this?” I asked, my voice brittle.

  Etan placed the gun in Pollux’s hand and patted him on the shoulder before taking a step back, marveling at the trained assassin whom I thought was reformed. Had I been so wrong about so many things?

  “I had no choice,” Pollux said, barely above a whisper. He tapped the barrel of the gun against his thigh, refusing to look up at me.

  “You know what to do, Pollux,” Etan said, loud enough for me to hear the tint of singing in his vile voice. “Just do it slow.”

  Thirty-One

  Pollux

  Everything Etan said was a lie. Why would he not stand for what he had done? Why would he make me out to be the master of this coup when I was nothing more than a pawn in his game?

  I knew the answer as soon as I questioned his motive; it’s because this is a power play for him to manipulate Halem. It’s his version of higher ground.

  “Just do it slow.” His voice lingered for a moment before falling out of focus against the cheering and cries of the men devastating Clenist. None of this made sense to me. What was I missing?

  “Pollux, I don’t know what I did to turn you against me,” Halem said, fear dripping from his voice to the point it sounded as if he was about to break down and cry. I hadn’t seen this level of weakness in him before. Even after his wife’s murder, there was a strength and resolve behind his eyes that was intimidating to behold. Now, he was a fraction of the man he used to be as death stared him down.

  I wished I could console him, but there was nothing I could do but what I was compelled to do outside of my control. I looked down at the loaded weapon in my hand, the weight of it nowhere near the burden falling on me at the moment. Even the guilt of doing nothing while I watched Micah use it to kill Councilman Ainya wasn’t enough to overcome this new programming. Now I was expected to use it to clean up the rest of the job. “No witnesses,” he had said in the dark room before I woke up to this nightmare.

  His plan was thorough if not efficient.

  “Can we talk about this. Pollux?” Halem asked. His fear manifested physically as he trembled before me, shaking like a leaf. I recognized his fear. I felt it myself, but as I lifted the gun and pointed it at his chest, I was as rigid as steel despite the anxiety ripping me apart inside.

  “What is there to talk about, Halem?” Etan asked, drawing a sideways glance from the Pontiff. “You manipulated everything to fall in line with your vision. You pissed on the memories of those who fell to bring you to power.”

  “I did no such thing!” Halem bit each word as he barked at Etan. His fear faded for the briefest of moments and somehow the connection I felt beholden to Etan by slipped. My shoulders slumped at first, followed by the gun’s barrel drooping down to my waist. Halem continued his rant as I tried to quietly regain control. “I served the people of Mars, which is exactly what you brought me in to do. It was you who changed. It was you who fell for the facade of power. It was you who grew corrupt by it. Don’t you dare put this on me.”

  “Testy, testy,” Etan said, clicking his tongue against his teeth as Micah stood smirking next to him. I wished I could find the strength to fight back and wipe that look off his face, but it was all I could do to formulate my own thought patterns amidst the flurry of contradictions running in my mind. The pain behind my eye ebbed into existence, a reminder of what would happen if I treaded too far off course. “You’re a cockroach, Halem. The end has come for you, but you’re too stubborn to die. Don’t worry, that mistake won’t last long. Pollux, do as you planned.”

  I was still looking at the gun in my hand when he spoke. This was not what I wanted. I did not set this into play. It was Etan pulling my strings. I just hoped the truth was known by the man I had come to know as my friend. “I’m sorry, Halem.”

  With those three words, I raised the gun once more, powerless to stop what came next.

  Thirty-Two

  Akran

  “No!” A chorus of screams berated my senses as my throat ached. All I wanted was to pause time long enough to formulate a plan to stop the madness. The craving led to one step, and then another as I willed myself closer. Five steps were all that separated me from the man I loved. But those five steps felt like an eternity as I waited for the gun to go off and take him from me in cold blood. “Don’t do it,” I spat, hands raised as if flesh and bone could stand against the firearm.

  “Akran, get back,” Halem seethed, his voice caught between anger and fear. I felt his breath strike the back of my neck as I stared Pollux down, my eyes narrowed into slits; tiny windows of barely contained rage.

  “Pollux, don’t do this.” My plea sounded so much like a child’s that it took a moment to register that I was speaking it.

  “Get out of my shot, Akran,” Pollux said, his lips barely moving. “I will shoot you too if I must.” His voice sounded chilling, desperate, almost as if it wasn’t his own.

  “None of this makes sense. Halem isn’t perfect, but he isn’t the monster Etan is making him out to be. It’s a projection to make Etan feel justified by his actions. He’s using you for his own gain, it’s the same argument he has against Halem. I can see it in your eyes that this isn’t what you want.”

  I hoped I was right, that I read him correctly. The truth stitched itself together as I spoke. I felt in that precise moment that I knew exactly what was happening. If I was wrong, then I was dead. But if Pollux pulled the trigger on Halem then I was as good as dead regardless.

  Better to go down fighting.

  “Put down the gun,” I whispered. I could tell by the way his eyes twitched that he heard me, even if he didn’t act on it.

  “This is ridiculous,” Micah said, as he crossed his arms over his chest stoically. His superiority complex painted him as a whiny villain, but it did nothing to alleviate the threat looming over us. “Kill them both and be done with it.”

  I stared into Pollux’s gaze for several moments before the gun went off. All that time, I thought I was getting through to him, connecting with him at a level beyond the superficial. All it took was a second for me to realize I was wrong and that it was too late. I closed my eyes and I flinched, expecting the bullet to submit me to eternal sleep, for my life to cease before I drew my next breath. Strangely, I was willing to accept fate on these terms, not because I wanted to die, but because I at least did something to try and stop it this time. Unlike that night weeks ago when I was attacked not far from here.

  I heard the bullet strike, the wet sound of blood splattering. I felt it, but not in the way I thought I would. Instead of a sharp pain, it felt more like a punch to the chest sending me backwards in its assault.

  I dared to open my eyes as I spun from the impact and watched Roslyn fall into Halem’s arms beside me, his face pale and his eyes wide as he glanced at me. My eyes fell from his gaze to the fist-sized hole in his shoulder and the blood pouring out like a stream.

  “Roslyn!” I screamed as my fear collided with anger. Halem laid Roslyn on his back and pressed his hand over the wound with a jacket that I hadn’t noticed him take off.

  Stunned, I realized I had no idea how much time passed between the gunshot and now.

  Was I already dead and watching the events unfold after my own passing?

  The daze fades as a hand gripped my arm and jerked me away, pulling me back to reality. When I look
ed back, I saw that it was Zeravan, his jaw slack and his eyes wild.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Trying to get you to safety, Akran,” he hissed as he continued to pull me behind the cart.

  “No, Roslyn needs me,” I pleaded, jerking my arm free. I felt a light tug as I broke away from his grip and ran back to the front of the cart, falling to my knees beside Roslyn.

  His lips quivered as he gasped for air. I couldn’t tell if it was the dim lighting or if his face had already started turning blue. Either way, fear coursed through me as my friend faded before my eyes. I was struck with guilt, knowing that the only reason he was bleeding out before me was because he tried to save me. Damn him for doing the right thing. I didn’t want him to risk his life to save mine.

  “Akran,” he whispered.

  “I’m here.”

  “Get out of here while you can,” he said between heavy breaths.

  “No.” I didn’t care if the next gunshot claimed me, I was not about to run away and leave him to die alone.

  Roslyn swallowed and rolled his eyes to look at Halem, but the Pontiff’s eyes were on Pollux. When I looked over at the former agent, I watched as the gun fell to the street and he dropped to his knees.

  A split second later Halem disappeared from beside Roslyn and charged. A sense of pride washed over me until I saw why he was running. I hadn’t noticed the move at first, but Etan had dipped behind Pollux and reached for the gun himself.

  He had it too, drawing it upward, the barrel a black hole of death pointed directly at Halem as he defiantly closed in.

  I winced, knowing what would happen next, who was going to die next. It seemed inevitable now.

  I looked down at Roslyn, as my entire world crashed down, and there was no way that I could stop it. The only thing I had the power to do was to be there for Roslyn as he approached his final breath. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, my heartache causing me to shake like a leaf.

  “Me too,” Roslyn replied as hell unleashed before us.

  Thirty-Three

  Micah

  Within the timespan of fingers snapping everything flipped. A mere second ago, Etan’s plan was moments from being masterfully fulfilled. Now, I watched anxiously as Pollux sat in the middle of the street like a hollow shell, a motionless statue while Halem fought Etan before the backdrop of anarchy in the streets. I realized in that brief span of time that we were about to lose it all.

  I looked to either side and found nothing to fall back on. This was a nightmare when it was meant to be the realization of a dream come true, and I wasn’t having it.

  “What are you waiting for? Kill the Pontiff!” I shouted at Pollux as I shoved into him, primed to strike him with my balled fists if it came to it. He was under our control, the monster at the beckoning of the Syndicate.

  He would comply.

  But instead, there was no response. It was as if he had shut down completely like a computer. In the silence, a light sound, barely above a whisper, caught my attention. Like salvation itself, I looked towards the raging battle between mortal enemies and saw the gun laying in the foreground, abandoned, prone.

  Waiting.

  “It’s about time things shifted back in our favor,” I said as I stalked towards it, but I found myself caught on something. When I looked down, I noticed Pollux gripped the tail of my jacket in an iron grip. I tried tugging away, but I struggled in vain. “Let go you beast,” I spat, tearing at the fabric caught in his grip. He said nothing as my attention turned to Akran scurrying towards the weapon. I yanked again, desperate this time, but found no purchase in my escape. Instead, I tore open the front of the jacket and slipped it off my torso in a half-run maneuver in my now desperate attempt to close the distance between us.

  But I was too late.

  With nothing else to fall back on, I did the only thing I could think of at the time. I whistled, the pitch a piercing sound as it reverberated off the glass windows of the buildings nearby. It did more than catch the attention of the gangs tearing the Southern Sector apart. It brought Halem and Etan’s battle to an abrupt, bloody end.

  I stared at Halem as he lay pinned to the street with Etan kneeling on his chest, his knees locking the Pontiff’s arms down as his fists laid waste to his face. It appeared that Etan had the advantage once again. It brought a wicked smile to my face until Akran turned.

  It wasn’t my distraction that halted the fight. It was the gun she pointed point blank at Etan’s head which brought his impending victory to a sudden close.

  “You did this. You set this in motion,” she shouted as she leveled the gun, planting her feet shoulder-width apart.

  “We had no choice,” I interjected, catching her gaze from the corner of her eye. “If you knew what we did about Halem, you would not be so quick to defend him. He’s a monster parading himself as a friend…as a lover. He betrayed you in the same way he betrayed us all. He turned his back on everything once he tasted power.” My string of words allowed members of the gang to close in and I could see her nervously react, the culmination of her anxiousness causing the barrel of the gun to dance unsteadily.

  “You have no proof of anything. You weren’t there,” she spat back. “I have the recordings where Etan tried to blackmail me before placing the hit on Halem. I never told anyone, but I know the truth. Etan is the monster and you’ve been serving him like a fool.”

  I took another step closer and she side-stepped away from me, putting her in a precarious position as she stood at an angle directly between me and her target. I knew Akran well enough to know she wouldn’t be able to keep her attention on two targets at once, and that was if she could even hit her target on the first shot with the way she barely held control of the firearm. I also knew how to break her without killing her first. “Calm down, Akran. You’ve been played, but not by either of us. The system manipulated you. Halem manipulated you,” Etan said as he rose off of our enemy. Halem rolled over onto his stomach, blood splattering as he coughed and heaved. “This is what revolution looks like. We have to take back the Syndicate,” Etan continued.

  “Don’t you mean the World Council? Halem put an end to your Syndicate when we thought you were dead,” Akran said, revealing that she knew more than either of us had given her credit for.

  “The people can’t serve two masters, Akran,” I said, drawing her attention back to me. “Halem is splitting the loyalty of the World Council in a way that will cause its collapse. It is only a matter of time before everything falls apart. His rule is not sustainable and must be stopped for a true leader to step in.”

  “Who will they serve, you?” Her vindictive question struck me, and I knew what to do next to drive my point home.

  “Certainly not Pontiff Scrimpshire,” I said with a grin. “Men, kill the Pontiff.” Like a heavy breath, half a dozen gang members descended on Halem’s position as he lay prone, defeated. “You might want to say goodbye to lover boy. He isn’t going to last the next two minutes.”

  The panic in her eyes was the most rewarding part of the evening. After of years of pretending I cared about her, knowing all along that one day I would be instrumental in driving a stake through her wretched little heart, it was worth it.

  Akran held the gun out, either too stupid or too scared to fire. Both were satisfying reasons.

  “I’ll see that you receive a hero’s memorial, Halem. It’s the least I can do,” Etan said mockingly.

  I shared a smile with him, but it soon faded as I saw three pairs of hands grab Etan from behind and drag him to the ground.

  “No, kill the Pontiff, not him!” I shouted, stumbling over my feet as I tried to run towards them.

  Akran turned the gun on me, causing me to skid to a stop several feet away from the chaos. “I don’t think so,” she said. “You’re not getting away that easily.”

  I knew she could fire at any moment, but I didn’t care. What I did care about was the fact the plan turned south too fast for us to correct.


  I watched in horror as the rioters wrapped a chain around Etan’s neck; his face already turning a shade of blue, either from bruising, or the lack of oxygen. “You have the wrong guy,” I said, my words sounding weak, and I almost lost my dinner as I watched two men draw the chain tighter around Etan’s neck. I closed my eyes, not willing to watch, but I knew when it happened as the sound of metal chain clacking together filled the air accompanied by splattering. The dull thud of something fleshy falling to the ground followed, and I knew it was over.

  I fell to my knees, unable to look at the mayhem, knowing full-well that I was next.

  A hand touched my shoulder, stirring me from the pseudo-peace I tried to find within. “It was clever to use the Agency’s technology to take control of me. I guess you should have made the best of it,” Pollux whispered before placing his hands on my head, crossing his right arm under my chin and gripping my jaw. “Because now I’m taking it back.”

  I should have fought, but I was too weak to react. Instead, I sucked in a breath and felt the tension in his arms increase in a bolt of movement.

  First, the snap.

  Then nothing.

  Epilogue

  Halem

  “A week’s worth of recovery and I still look like I’m half-dead,” I said as Akran sat across the room with one leg crossed over the other. She had her nose pointed at a tablet as she read my daily schedule to me. I didn’t ask her to, but I didn’t decline the offer either. I enjoyed her presence and didn’t want it to end.

  “The doctor said the bruising could last a couple of weeks. At least not all of the damage was Etan’s doing, some of it was from the surgeon fixing your nose. I still have images of what it looked like before,” she replied with a cringe in her voice. “Do you still plan on visiting Pollux in the psych ward, it’s not like he’s spoken to you since that night?”