Eleven - Red Sea

WALDORF ASTORIA, NEW YORK CITY

"God, the sandwiches here are legendary. Don't you agree, Nelson?"

St. James and Nelson were standing in front of the location where former senator Davis last visited before her death. Their first lead pointed them here. Nelson remains vigilant around him. It wasn't his first time on the field, but it's his first major case. Anxious but excited. St. James tapped his shoulder trying to comfort the nervous colleague. They both leaned on the food cart. Observing each person getting in and out of the hotel. It's the nearest they can reach. They don't have a warrant nor a proper reason to have one so they have to settle near the entrance. If they press harder, a lot of powerful people will feel the pressure and that would be dangerous for them.

Agent Nelson's nerves started to feel weird vibrations. His superior is focused on the entrance. A black Mercedes was parked on their left. Engine running. Trying not to pry, he looked back to the entrance. Through his peripheral vision, he noticed the window lowered. A man in a black suit is inside. Wearing tinted sunglasses. Nelson can feel the burning gaze of the mysterious man. When he dared return the gaze, the car was already leaving the parking space. St. James muffled a curse. A familiar woman left the building, Aberdeen Alderige. The ominous car Nelson was watching earlier fetched the elegant lady.

"Are you seeing this, Nelson?" St. James muttered in excitement.

"It could be a coincidence. We don't know that." He reasoned out. Afraid to mess with those people but St. James' spirit fueled up.

"Don't be a pessimist," St. James bites on his sandwich, still looking at the car leaving the hotel. "Aberdeen can be considered a potential suspect."

"Lower your voice, God damn it!" Nelson panicked. "She is not just some barbie girl here in New York!"

Their disagreement was put on hold when another familiar figure left the hotel. Viktor Samira casually walked to the sidewalk. St. James quickly finished his lunch. He waved his hand for Nelson to join him. They will follow Samira.

"Are you out of your mind?" Was all Nelson could say and bite one last time on his sandwich.

Like some psychopath, they followed the old man down the subway. They even bought tickets for the train. Due to the flood of people rushing in and out of the platform, they didn't have to make an effort for their cover. Few meters from them, Viktor is sitting comfortably while reading a newspaper. Nothing suspicious. After a few minutes, Viktor joined the riot and disembark at his destination. St. James and Nelson exchanged anxious glances. They are on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. A wealthy neighborhood. Old money families live around the area. Samira went inside an old building which they assumed his residence. No guards were standing outside but they know better.

"I'll get a cab," Nelson volunteered.

"Not yet," St. James held his shoulder. "They had a meeting. Samira and Alderige in one place."

"Can't you see, St. James? Maybe Davis' murder was a unanimous decision," Nelson started waving for any available cab. "We can chase down one of these people but an entire high society is a suicide. You know that."

Though stubborn and determined, he agreed to Nelson. They can cut a branch but not the whole tree. He glanced one more time to the building and waited for the cab they held. They have nothing yet.

***

HIATUS OUTER SOCIETY

People inside the conference room raised their eyebrows at the panting man who barged in. The man was trying to catch his breath to explain something. He forced himself to calm down.

"Don Hector has released an order!" He deliberately said in between deep breaths.

All of them went quiet and stared idly at the young man in front of them. Trying to find the humorous addition to that scary statement. First things first, they weren't informed that Hector is still alive and what order he released.

"His malevolence, Don Hector Exconde?" Alejandro, the second in command of the Outer Society, clarified.

"Yes, señor."

The Hiatus Outer Society consists of personalities under the real administration. They were the ones like the family of Hector, but the Drax bloodline is on the top of the outer hierarchy. In the collapse of the established organization, they have to preserve the remains of that said organization.

Shocked faces covered everyone's expressions inside. For more than a decade, they have managed to live behind the shadows of their deaths to conceal themselves and enjoy the overwhelming power left to them.

"Where is he?" Someone dare asked.

"No one knows his exact location, sir."

"What's the order?" Alejandro anxiously inquired.

"Eliminate Iñigo Constantine." The young man answered in his most controlled voice.

From its worried state, Alejandro burst into a laugh. Completely stunned by the asinine statement he just heard. Most of the congregation did not share his reaction. Alejandro motioned the man to take one step closer to them.

"Order to eliminate a regent?" He exasperatingly asked the messenger. "The head of the Constantine Empire who controls the flow of money of the organization. If he falls, we would have to deal with the remaining regents, and they are more vicious than the Constantines. Iñigo may be vulnerable but he holds a lot of cards against us. Tell Don Hector to reevaluate his position, he does not hold much power in this council anymore."

"Pardon, señor?" The man clarified Alejandro's bold rejection.

"Alejandro, you better watch your words. We don't know who is listening," William, the third in command whispered. Hector will not take this rejection and denial lightly. He flashed a generic smile at the man standing. "I think Alejandro would consider Don Hector's request. We just have some priorities at the moment. I'm sure you will relay the positive response to this personal request, won't you? You know how Don Hector's temper in regards to bad news."

"I sure will, sir," The messenger bowed and slowly retreated to the main door of the conference room.

***

LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA

He finally agreed to seek a professional opinion. In more than a decade, he carried everything alone. Heavy is the back that keeps a secret. Conscience digging inside. With one last smile to his wife, Newland was directed to the doctor's office. He is about to attend his first session. The assistant was accommodating, she guided him with so much ease. Indulging in short conversation to calm the soldier. Newland appreciated the gesture making his first impression on the clinic as well contrary to what he expected.

They reached the door. The young assistant smiled widely before she opened the door. "Just try to ease up a bit. He's good with his job." The woman assured him.

"We'll find out," Newland chuckled and nodded to her.

After one last smile to the gorgeous assistant, he came face to face with the person he dreaded to see. One of the horsemen of Samira, Hendrix Dufur. He immediately took heavy steps back. Checked the door but it was locked. Newland composed himself.

"Why?" He asked. "I did what I was told. I zipped my mouth all these years."

The European man sat across from him. He even offered Newland the available seat which the soldier did oblige. Hendrix is wearing his usual black suit with the addition of his black leather gloves. Hair was done beautifully with no trace of stress on his face. The man was the total opposite of the problematic gentleman with him. He took a vial out of his coat. Put it on the table.

"We had a deal, yes," Hendrix clicked his tongue in disappointment. "Circumstances changed though. You are a family man, Snow. A long list of liability."

"Please, not a single soul knows what I know. I'm begging you. Let my family out of this." Newland pleaded.

"That's highly refreshing. Though the secret has been dragging on you based on your current state." A rather amused reaction from the ominous gentleman. "Although you kept your part of the bargain. However, you still are a potential risk. I'm very sorry but we have to cut our lifelong agreement."

"You son of a bitch!" Newland flipped the center table which the gentleman across him did not seem to mind. "I almost went crazy because of that. Eighteen years! I kept it to myself!"

"I'm sorry. I don't make the rules here," Hendrix stood and picked up the vial. "I'm just a puppet too, Snow. More rather useful puppet."

"What about my family?" Newland sat back. "What will happen to them?"

"As per the agreement, they will be generously compensated with a convincing backstory of the trust fund you will leave." Hendrix handed the vial to Newland. The latter reluctantly accepted. "There's a good lad. Now, don't forget to bid your goodbyes. Don't make them suffer as you did."