Deep death ( unfinished ).

Deep death

Tanzim Zaki

The work of this story is entirely fiction. Any match to real world is coincidence and the writer refers nothing with the real world except the places and government intelligence body. Black Hawk is inspired from the work of Mafia. It is not related with any of WWII group.

Indeed, We have warned you of a near punishment of the Day when a man will observe what his hands have put forth and the disbeliever will say, "Oh, I wish that I were dust!".

Al Qur'an (78:40)

Prologue

Barry Anderson and twenty members of his British archaeologist team were digging slowly and carefully in a corn field in a village in Lezno County in Poland. This team was expertise of Mayan Civilization. Barry, just touched fifty last month, was critically acclaimed various awards and a regular visitor of many functions. He was mainly famed for the discovery of Mayan disc found in beneath the EL Castillo.

"Look at this sir!", Lawrence called Barry, one of the female archaeologist. Barry observed the object very carefully. It was a notebook which was written by Benjamin Rivley, one of a Jew during World War II. Barry was feeling frustrated to Polish government of being called here to find Mayan artifact, instead he found trashes. In all these months of hard working, the team found toothbrushes, spared clothes, broken combs and the last, a notebook. But when Barry opened the yellowed pages of notebook, he found why he was called by the Polish government to dig their own land. It was not a notebook, a diary. There was someone who was following Barry, prying him to death.

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Tomasz Lukaszuk, the foreign minister of Poland was having a sun bath in shore of Lake Solina. It was a sunny day so there were lots of tourists around him. He was late sixty in age, tall enough, had a athlete body and was slim. He received a phone call.

"Speak.", said Tomasz. "We have lost it. The lost notebook of WW2.", replied the unknown caller in the last end.

The news around world had flashed that Adam Rivley, the grandson of Benjamin Rivley, a Jewish soldier in world war 2, announced that his grandfather had told him just before death that he hid a notebook somewhere in Lezno County. The notebook would reveal of the greatest secrets of WW2. He said that notebook revealed the most ancient artifact in the world too. Along with the notebook, there was an artifact from Mayan Civilization.

"Did you find the crystal diamond along with?", Tomasz asked in angry voice. "Sorry sir, there was nothing except the notebook Barry found.", replied the unknown caller in feared voice.

"Finish him, I'm coming there. "

"Sorry for that again. He is missing from last night. He's untraceable now."

Barry reached London on the noon local time. Instead of reaching home, he went to Adam Rivley's home who lived near Cambridge University.

Chapter 1

Allan Patrick looked more pale than his age. He was tall and had a long face and was around forty and still unmarried. Actually, he had been rejected by around thirty to forty women of being married because he's working in a low paid job, as a "not so" popular insurance broker in Lloyds. But, he was forced to keep his secret from his British government. A secret spy agent of MI6.

A loud beep from Allan's phone just broke his sweet sleep in the early morning. It was from his boss.

From: Unknown

Details: Meet me in the town's square today at 11 am. An order it is so. Come at La vita cafe.

It was only six in the morning. He could have send this text two hours later. Active makes a man insane to wait. Allan had a bowl of chocolate cornflakes every morning as he did always. He was lazy in purpose but he's serious in his work as an agent, not as a broker. He was well respected in his secret agency and every junior agents and guards would salute him even he was in off duty and found in the working place. But, in social life, as a insurance broker, he was not so skilled enough to negotiate in a scheme with customers and he was a laughter gas in Lloyds. But he was assigned in Lloyds only to spy on scheme of wealthy business- whether the customer is guilty in any crime.

It was 10 45 am when Allan reached La vita cafe in town's square. He wore a black businessman coat. The cafe was small and had capacity of few people only. It was a street cafe. How could I discuss secrecy with him in such populated area?! Fuck! He, the boss, used to be in time at least 30 minutes early. And now, he's nowhere to see. Suddenly, a black coated bald tall muscular negro man wearing sunglasses approached to Allan from the other end of the street. He showed his identity to Allan. MI6 agent. "Please come with me, sir". Allan followed him, walked through different streets, until there was a limousine parked nearby. The security agent opened one of the back door and Allan went inside and had a comfortable seat without a hesitation. But, he sensed there was something wrong.

The vehicle roared to highway in just a few minutes.

20 minutes later.

"Would please come outside?", asked the negro agent. Allan stepped out and took a deep breath as he realized he was outside of the city. He was just standing in front of a century old cottage which was not more than 20 feet in height. The agent opened the door for Allan and both stepped inside. Nothing was there inside except a wooden dining table, as usual. But, there was a round small switch, red in color, on the dining table. He pressed it harder and the ground started to shake. The ground, slowly, shifted to go downward. The lift just stopped and Allan was amazed when he saw the interior of hall room underground. Craig Johnson, Allan's boss, was sitting alone in the conference room which had an oval classic wooden table and chairs of 12 seated. Five chairs of each side and two at both end. It was 5000 square feet of floor area and the room was exact copy of deluxe hall room in MI6 headquarter in Lamberth. Craig had wore the same outfit as Allan. Craig was old in sixty's, had short white hair and looked old with wrinkles in his face. But he was capable to defeat 400kg trained grizzly bear wrestling even on this age. He was honored with many medals by the government.

"I have something to share with you, please have a seat.", Craig said. Allan sat at the far end of the table, face to face to Craig at a distance of at least six meter. He opened three 15x10 photos, handed over the negro agent and ordered him to pass it to Allan. The footstep of the agent was so hard that the echo sound was produced. Allan took the photos from him. But, he was shocked when he gazed the photos. All of the photos determined a headless naked white corpse laid on a hospital bed. "What's this?". asked Allan. "Barry's corpse", replied Craig.

Chapter 2

Michael Hart, the British chairman of the illegal assassination contractor group 'Black Hawk', was strict in his management style but soft inside when he was outside the work. He's fond of wearing black full sleeved coat and a tight black jeans and he became very successful when he was only in mid twenty's. He was running his business very successful for almost thirty years and because of his love in his work, he's still unmarried. He had various headquarters in 70 countries. The main office, where he was now, in Madrid, Spain. The working place of his factories are usually in underground down with the drainage canal. He had an average of 50 silent killer agents in each country. Hiring too much might lead to espionage.

"Sir, a message have been received from Tomasz Lukaszuk. It was personally sent for you. Please check it in your office", said Hart's young female secretary. Hart rushed in his small attic office room, and found a large envelope sealed with red official stamp. He opened the envelope and found a photo size of his large hand. There was note included behind the photo when he flipped it behind. What the hell does he want know after losing Barry?, thought Hart.

Kill him. Allan Patrick, insurance broker. 21, Brandreth Avenue, London.

That's it. An easy task from such an influential person. But Hart had no idea who Allan was actually. " Sterling, you have a job to do, over and out. ", Hart switched off his walkie talkie instantly.

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Just 1700 km far from Madrid, Allan was packing his luggage for his new assigned mission to Poland. He would take flight from London City Airport. He reached the airport and saw a private small jet waiting for him.

"Welcome, sir", said the pilot. Allan had took a seat end of the jet's main exit. The jet took few moments to take its place in the air. A wonderful county view, some tall buildings and green farm field. A view of world's natural and common heritage. After few hours, the pilot came to meet Allan. Autopilot. "You should be in your driving seat, why are you here ?", asked Allan. " Sorry, to interrupt my job, sir. But I just got a feedback from the headquarter that this jet will land in Leszno County, not in Warsaw. You are ordered to investigate directly to the disappearance of Barry Anderson. Time is short", replied the pilot. Allan's mood went sad when he was ordered to do job directly after stepping outside England.

So here's Poland. The only country which narrowly escaped recession recently in Euro Zone. Allan took a deep pleasant breath, put his Raymond black coat on his right shoulder and carried his portable luggage with help of his left arm. A local small Fiat taxi was waiting for him. "We are here.", said the driver. Allan insisted to pay the driver but the driver refused since he was paid advanced before.

Allan stood in front of the barren field. There was a trace that it was once had been a corn field. "Please come with me, sir." said a local male young officer, well uniformed and slim. Allan refused to do so and asked to the officer that he wanted to meet the head security of the project. " I beg your pardon, sir. But he's now in Warsaw. By the way, would you not investigate the place.", said the officer in Polish accent. Allan replied," There's nothing to investigate. The criminal had removed all the evidence." What is he talking about?, thought the young officer. " Provide me the address of both murderer and victim.", ordered Allan. The officer gasped and confused. " Who's the murderer and , uh, the victim ?", asked the officer without showing respect this time. Allan didn't mind it at all. He was expecting him to be surprised. "Barry and the head security", answered Allan.

Allan had to catch a Fiat taxi to reach Warsaw as fast as possible, paying the fare this time.

Chapter 3

The person, wearing a black hood stitched with a warm wool sweater, was observing the diary very carefully. The waitress just put the tray of Indian Cuisine on the small table, rushed away from the customer. The customer was reading the diary of 200 yellowed pages very carefully. But, someone behind his seat, was following him and truly, the diary was his prey.

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Back in Warsaw, Allan had reached Nowa Iwiczna, a residential area which was built in 1960s. After a four hour journey, he felt relieved to see the area was really good for one to have a stay and settled here in such a global recession. There's a pool, school, college, Tesco nearby, public well serviced hospital and a nightclub to stay for a night. Most of the houses are small and two storey building with white in color and red bricked roof. And, finally, Allan reached one of the small duplex house he was looking for.

'Ding dong', the bell rang. An old man had opened the door. Stunned. A businessman in outfit was standing in front of him, holding a luggage. "Whom do you want?", the old man asked. "Is Barry Anderson home?", Allan asked. Is he insane. News flashed all around the world that the man he is saying about is dead, killed. "Let him come inside", a voice ordered, behind the old man. "Barry, nice to see you again". A fat and a big moustache stared Allan carefully. Maybe in the wrong house. "Excuse me, sir. There is no one called Barry lives. I'm the owner of this house and this man is my caretaker", said the man, in a bold voice instantly.

The fat man ordered the caretaker to go inside his room. "So, Martin, I have a job with you. I apologize for joking. I know you are hired as a head security in Barry's project field, in return, in a favor for me, you will now work under me. I can now put you in Polish prison but I won't. I know you were ordered from the top chain of command but you know that I'm an MI6 agent and can obtain anyone's information in Euro Zone. You are a British after all. Wouldn't you help your fellow brother?", asked Allan.

Martin Tyler, who was the most responsible person in his own profession. He never broke any rules until the last task as he was forced by British government. He personally kidnapped Barry and gave it off to Tomasz, with few bodyguards in suits with the minister, in this house that night. With the help of a DHL delivery van, the minister and his men with Barry, vanished, into the dark, down the street.. He was threatened by Tomasz that night to keep it secret, otherwise his family would be delivered to hell. He was arranged to stay in Nowa Iwiczna for a few days until the pursuit cools down. But it was not that success, as expected.

"Why did Tomasz reject Black Hawk's assignment on kidnapping Barry and chose you?", asked Allan, putting his Glock 34 pistol on the study table which was placed between both the men sitting on the sofas. How the fuck does he know about Black Hawk?, Martin thought, gasped in horror and sweating.

Chapter 4

Allan was in the Martin's small kitchen room looking for coffee. At this moment, Martin got just got a cheesy chance of grabbing the pistol. Heavy and nice. He unlocked the gun and headed for the kitchen room. The kitchen room was down stair. He tip toe through the stairs silently with the weapon and confronted Allan behind, found he was preparing a cup of coffee for himself., stirring the spoon with a relax moment.

"So, where can I find the path of Black Hawk's drainage tunnel of Madrid, my friend ?", asked Allan, realizing Martin behind him, pointing on his head with the pistol. Allan turned 360 degree clockwise, face to face with Martin. There was a silent moment. Allan observed Martin's hand was trembling even though he was in position with his face fierce eye. "Do you realize why does government recruit you? The answer is because you are fool. There is no bullet inside it ", Allan said, smile suddenly fading down into anger. Martin checked the pistol and what Allan said was true. Allan pull out a same pistol from his back pocket, pointing inside the criminal's mouth and said, "Do or die". Martin watched the pistol, in horror with big eyes rolling down in his own mouth.

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There was quite a crowd in funeral ceremony of late Katherine, Black Hawk's chairman, Hart's secretary. Most of them were Katherine's colleagues and relatives. The ceremony was being held in Santa Coloma de Gamenet cemetery, just outside the bustling city of Barcelona. The cemetery was solar powered which was provided by the Spanish government. She's been found death in her small apartment in Barcelona where she was out of work and enjoying holidays. The local police suspected it was a suicide. The police found her body hanging with the ceiling fan. However, Hart wasn't put in any custody since his agency was the most helpful to Spanish government. So, the official declared the case that it was 'a suicide with a mystery reasons hiding behind', a news headline published in local newspaper in Spainish. All of the people wore white suits and coat and female wore white dresses from different costumes.

A young female woman stood beside, on the left side, of Hart. Young, attractive and no more than twenty five in age. Hart observed she was an Italian. "Senorita, may I request you a question?", asked Hart. Really attractive and unstoppable. I should hire her for my new secretary, thought Hart. "Say it please.", replied the woman. She was fair, tall, hot and wonderful size of 35/25/34 in figure. She had a blue attractive eyes and a red lip to kiss. "How are you related with the dead person?", continued Hart, "I mean kind of relative or friends?". Hart was sure she was not her colleague since he was the employer of Black Hawk. "She was my cousin. By the way, I am Abriana Annah", replied in sad expression, handshaked Hart. Hart refused to handshake and gave his business card and offered that she was able to work as a secretary and fill Katherine's outpost. "It would be pleasure to work since I'm unemployed", the she leaved the place, with sorrow in her heart.

"Did you succeed?", a voice from the other end of phone asked. "Damn sure, why not! It's my job", exclaimed Abriana Annah, waiting for a bus in the bus stop. Rain started to pour suddenly.

Just 600km from the cemetery, Allan infiltrated the Spanish drainage tunnel beneath the city of Madrid. The place where Hart's place was huge. A big tunnel of waterfall flowing downward the sewage like Angel Falls; except the smell of liquid which could make someone lunatic. There were numerous narrow bridges which make different sections of room and there were five sections of working floor areas. The places were quite enough except of the sound of waterfall. There were few heavy armored guards securing the narrow bridges. Keep low profile. Remain crouched, Allan thought himself. Allan, wearing the same business coat but a little dirt since he had a hard day. He removed his tie so he could feel easy to move. The main office room of Hart was the most corner of the tunnel. The sleeping boss in his own town. Allan