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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Young Adult · #1852453
A man with an interesting past makes a startling descovery
TOP SECRET DATA ENTRY

SUBJECT: ACE MAVERICK

TOPIC: HEIST


         Even though the sign read “No Trespassing”, the lone figure kept proceeding to the dark mansion that he had once called home.  But that was a life that he had long since given up on re-achieving.  The man he used to be responded to the name of Ramón “Vinnie” Vizzini, but that man was dead, both mentally and officially.  As far as anyone knew Vinnie had died on that fateful day…

         Vinnie was a high ranking figure of the Italian Mafia family.  He had been adopted as a young man by the then current Don.  When the Don died Vinnie was only 33.  It was revealed that he had been appointed heir to the Big Seat.  This was accepted by almost all of them members, partly because the Don said it and partially because Vinnie was one of the best.  Yet there was one who disagreed to this decision, the Don’s true son, known as ‘Smiley’; this nickname came not from a cheery attitude but because of a chemical attack by a false doctor that kept the muscles in his mouth permanently clenched in a smile. 

         Smiley was high enough ranked that he could challenge Vinnie to a ceremonial duel for leadership.  Only members of the Don’s family and those he claims as heirs may challenge for leadership, this rarely happened due to the fact that such duels were a fight to the death or submission, though any mafia member would take death over defeat.  Smiley didn’t care that it was a death wish since Vinnie was far more skilled in all aspects of combat, but Smiley was more devious, it didn’t matter what weapons Vinnie chose, since he was the one challenged, Smiley had a plan…

           When Vinnie entered the building where the fight was to take place he sensed that something was amiss, the building was empty.  Smiley was always early to everything.  The lack of other people was not surprising, spectators were not allowed, since they might intervene, instead everything was watched on tape.  Suddenly Vinnie understood why.  There was a scent in the air that he recognized from serving in WWIII, det.-cord and nitroglycerin.  The realization hit him nearly as hard as the explosion that followed half a second later.  Luckily he was able to slide most of the way out of the building but a collapsing timber severely burned his face and severely damaged his left eye.

         Although he could have been completely healed, he kept the burn marks as a reminder of the treachery.  The eye on the other hand had been replaced with a bionic replacement.  He distrusted technology due to the fact that it can be hacked, but the benefits of night and telescopic vision far outweighed the risks. 

         The mafia accepted Smiley’s treachery and Vinnie realized that he must put that life behind him.  The first to change was the name.  He finally decided on the name Ace Maverick.  Maverick of course was from the fact that he would now work solo.  Ace came from the fact that he had been awarded as an Aerial Ace in WWIII as part of the Airborne Recon Rangers, the best of the best and only the best were selected from that group.  The standard issue jungle hat from the Battle of the Amazons was pulled down over the scarred tissue.  Just because he kept the reminder, he did not feel it necessary to reveal the wounds to the public.

         Ace Maverick quickly gained fame as the greatest bounty hunter and mercenary in the world.  The life of a bounty hunter was actually fairly similar to that of the mafia.  The only difference was that in the mafia you had others to protect you and if you happened to fail you were killed rather than merely lose a paycheck.  There was only one duo, a couple of newbies, that came close to him in ability and dang close they were in abilities.  These two each specialized in their own forms of combat and worked together to become more successful than any one man, except Ace Maverick.  The names they used in the bounty hunter community were Katana and Trigger.

         Katana’s real name was Kiro Yakuza; he had been named after the long dead Japanese Mafia of who he was a direct descendant.  He specialized in stealth and hand-to-hand combat. As his name applied, his weapon of choice was two Katanas, though he also had a supply of traditional Japanese shakens, or as they were known as in the western culture, throwing stars.  He also was the leader of the duo and showed great abilities in hacking.

         Trigger was of German decent and was named Erwin Rommel after the famed German general of WWII, as of yet Trigger failed to show any of his namesake’s intellectuality.  Despite this factor Trigger was by far the best sharpshooter alive.  He was could master any firearm by the second shot; this included everything from antique muskets to modern-day rocket launchers to turrets on a Desert Storm helicopter.  Trigger was also a master mechanic and pilot.

         Maverick ironically was the cause of the two joining forces.  He had been given two different assignments from two different clients to kill the two separate bounty hunters.  He had tried to set the two to kill each other, but the two joined forces when terrorists attacked the airport, and since then the two had been the biggest pricks in his neck, especially that Trigger.  That Aryan’s father had been the one who set the explosives that changed his life.

         But the past did not matter; he was doing personal business at the moment.  He had passed the first security checkpoint by hiding underneath a cargo truck among the snow chains.  Now that he abandoned the truck he walked to the razor wire fence and took a careful look at the network of wires, the fence was too high to jump and explosives would alert the security, he had to cut the wire.  The only problem was the recoil of the wire and the malleability of the metal made it not only hard but also dangerous to do so.

         He took ten steps back and fired six shots with his specialized and silenced Beretta.  Hitting the wire in the dark was a shot that even Trigger would have a hard time doing, but the night vision of his replaced eye was a worthy investment.

         The attack dogs were simple, by tossing a rag soaked in pheromones of a female in heat the dogs forgot about him before the first one could so much as bark.  Maverick then slipped into the servant entrance and made it through the kitchen with only two downed guards, one of which he switched outfits with.  The jungle combat hat still was on his head it would help to disguise his identity on any security cameras.

         He was here not to kill his half-brother, that plan was still in motion; nothing quick would do for Maverick.  He was here merely because of an interesting purchase that the Government made from Smiley.  Rumors in the Black Market suspected that the purchase had to do with Ramón Vizzini.  Maverick had to know for sure.

         When he reached the Don’s office it was empty as he knew it would be.  Smiley always took a shower at precisely 11:52 to 12:09.  Glancing at the guard’s watch he now wore, he had 15 minutes left as planned.  He strode over to the chair and swiveled around to the computer and opened the records folder.  What he saw was more shocking than watching the H-bomb dropped on Bagdad firsthand, and he knew from experience.          

         The mafia and the Government were working together to make the perfect soldier that was still human, not a Super, which the public openly despised.  And the genetic basis of this soldier was his own!  The file was titled as Agent Ace.  Ace, Ace, Ace… Was it a coincidence or did Smiley know about his new identity?  He quickly copied the file and then proceeded to plant a virus that would cause the computer to go through a complete meltdown if the file were ever opened again.

         CLICK! CLICK! CLICK! CLICK! CLICK! CLICK! CLICK! CLICK! CLICK! CLICK! CLICK! CLICK!...  SHUNK!

         The sound of dozen Desert Eagles and one AA-12 assault shotgun being locked and loaded filled the room.  And then Maverick heard the one voice he was dreading,

“Hello brother.”

* * *


“Hello brother.” the words echoed in his head, “This is an unexpected visit.”

“You are no brother of mine.” Maverick said, his voice staying the usual calm despite the rage building inside of him.  He must control himself, now was not the time to get rid of Smiley, not yet.

Most people did not know the real reason for the high backs of the chairs associated in the media with big bosses; the real reason was not intimidation but rather protection. Most of these chairs were bulletproof, this would buy Maverick a few moments but the armor-piercing and mini-grenade rounds of the AA-12 would blow through it like a stick through a balloon.

Maverick managed a quick look at the men behind him, the results were daunting but expected.  The dozen men with Desert Eagles were none other than the Twelve Disciples, the personal elite bodyguards of the Don.  Luckily Maverick did not come alone, pressing a button on his dark glasses alerting his back-up. Usually he worked alone but this mission was too risky to go alone and this person was one of the few he trusted.

His original name was lost, even to himself. He was known as the Eternal Man, the Forever Knight, and The Undying.  His codename in the underworld of crime and the one on the government records was Eon.  His origin was unknown but it was widely known that he could not die no matter what the circumstances or how hard he tried.  After much questioning Maverick had found out that he had been a minor pirate during the colonial times of the Americas and had seen the death of Caesar and described the scene to a young Shakespeare.

Maverick then hit the recline lever on the chair and kicked off the desk, sending himself at Smiley and knocked him out with a simple karate chop to the nape. Just then Eon burst in and hit the remainders with tranquilizer darts. “Thanks,” Maverick replied.

“Whatever,” he replied in his usual uncaring tone, “Just get goin’ and I’ll cleanup.” As Maverick walked by he saw his companion’s face repair itself from the bullet wounds.  Despite his demeanor, Eon was actually a nice fellow once you got to know him.

A few floors down Maverick found himself about 2 yards away from a pistol in his face. He did not have time to draw his sidearm; the motion would instinctively cause the man to fire. The only other weapon in sight was a cane in an umbrella stand nearby. Ducking beneath the bullet, Maverick rolled to the left and grabbed the cane. He then flicked the cane and hit the clip release, spilling the gun’s ammunition all over the floor. A second swipe left the man lying on the floor clutching the fork of his legs.

Suddenly a screech came over the intercom and Smiley’s voice sounded out in a mocking tone. “Run, Run, fast as you can; can’t outrun me, ‘cause I’m a bomb! HAHAHA! Did you really think that your little friend could stop me? You will never make it out of this house alive! You should realize that I would not let my work go unfinished. And by the way, that little transaction happened over 35 years ago, I just decided to set the trap up now. Good day, and see ya’ in Hell!”

Maverick then stepped up his pace running for the door. As he slid into the foyer, a metal plate slid down over the door. DEFCOM 5 INTITIATED, LOCKDOWN AND DETONATION SEQUENCES INITIATED!!!

Maverick knew he had less than thirty seconds to evacuate the building, the door would be pointless and the windows were similarly locked. Only one option remained and a rather uninviting one at that. Removing an antique rocket launcher from its display on the wall, he aimed it down and fired, opening up the floor and the sewer pipes below. Pulling a filtration device over his face, he dove down and crawled down the pipe as an explosion shook the earth, sending him careening down through the sewage and out into the river where the pipe drained. Despite the incredible smell, the assorted excrements cushioned the shock wave and stopped the flames.

© Copyright 2012 Corran J. Holmes (tbivens at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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