Page 1 of Vicious Souls

SWITZERLAND

The black 4WD skids to a halt in front of the building, closely followed by six identical vehicles, all black with tinted windows. The doors of the first vehicle fling open and four burly men in suits quickly make their way up the wide stairs of the administration building, their target already in view as they enter.

“This is highly improper,” the Dean complains, signing the release forms.“Couldn’t it have waited until morning?” A vein in his temple throbs erratically as his lip quivers with nervous tension. He observes each man in turn, trying his hardest to intimidate with his scowl to avoid feeling intimidated himself.

“Life and death rarely waits for morning,” Tate says, his voice tight. They had settled this over the phone hours ago and the Dean was advised of their ETA, so he wasn’t entirely sure why the man was so irritated.“I trust all the paperwork is in order?” Tate asks. With only months to go until his formal graduation, Kingsley Murray would be graduating with honors without returning for the ceremony.

The Dean flusters, nodding his head quickly. Truth be told, the child’s family had been more trouble than the $2m endowment given to the university was worth. For him, this would be one less headache to deal with.

“I want to remind you the NDA you signed is binding for the term of your natural life.”

“You need not worry about my silence,” the Dean spits, his eyes venomous. Were it not for that stupid weekend getaway where he so foolishly let his desires get the better of him, there was no way the Irishman would have gotten his hands on the compromising photos that were later used to purchase the Dean’s silence. Good riddance to bad garbage, he thinks, as the sound of soft footsteps pitter patter through the otherwise silent hallway.

The men all turn to see a young man walking toward them, dark glasses wrapped around his eyes and a ridiculous beret angled on his head. Tate snorts before a wide smirk breaks out on his face.

“Master Kingsley,” the Dean announces, lifting his chin. A slight smile crosses his face. The Dean couldn’t help but like the young, mild mannered boy who possessed a soft voice and delicate features. Try as he may to resent the child on behalf of his father’s wrongdoing, he couldn’t help but respect him instead; the child was faultless.“I hope you’ve enjoyed your stay with us, young man,” the Dean quips, and the boy merely nods and holds out his hand to shake the Dean’s own. The Dean gives the boy a tight smile and lifts his head in resignation, quietly affirming that it is time for the young man to go. The worst was now over for him – he could go back to being a boring school master without the complication of a blackmailer holding anything over him.

Tate moves forward and loops his hand around the young boy’s upper arm, steering him outside to the car.“Time to move, kiddo,” he says, as they step out into the dark night. Tate helps him into the back seat while the other men disperse to the other waiting cars, leaving them alone.

“You okay?” Tate asks, folding the car slowly down the side of the mountain on the way to the private airstrip.

“Define okay,” the young boy says, and Tate takes a quick glance at him in the rear view mirror.

“This was necessary,” Tate reminds him.

“Everything was necessary,” the boy muses.“From the moment I came into this world, everything has been a necessity of sorts.”

* * *

“Who are all these people?” Kingsley asks, looking around the plane. “All new faces.”

Tate shoots Kingsley a long silent look, then follows the boy’s eyes around the plane, trying to see what he sees. Tate is used to the revolving door of men – he hasn’t anticipated what being out of his comfort zone would do to Kingsley.

“Extra security,” Tate tells him.

“Extra security? Two dozen men is not ‘extra security’. It’s a disaster waiting to happen.”

“You know how your father feels about your safety.”

Kingsley flicks perfectly manicured fingernails against one another in what Tate realizes is anxious tension. This is new. Kingsley knows there's more going on than is being passed on.

“What’s really going on here?”

Tate sighs and smooths his hands down the front of his pants, as though soothing his thighs might give him the courage he needs. No good would come of keeping the truth from the child.

“You need to trust your father.”

“Where is he?”

“Your father’s not well. We’re headed to the hospital.”

Kingsley turns to the window and looks out at the disappearing landscape. He’d miss Europe and its relative quiet. He’d miss knowing what to expect at every turn and the relative safety this country had afforded him. But most of all, he knew he’d miss the freedom he’d enjoyed the past few years away from the agonizing violence that besieged his family back home.

1

DANTE

Ilook down at the girl beneath me with a scowl, withdraw then zip my pants up.

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