Pax Romana, City of Angels (working title)

First off:  This manuscript is currently terrible.  Needs serious revamping and all kinds of improvement.  This is the least polished page on the entire blog.  I intend for this to my best work yet, but between completing my Bachelor’s degree, looking for a part-time job, working on my music (I intend to make youtube videos of myself playing music + play in a cover band for additional income) and other things, I haven’t had much time for this.

Please read the FAQ first for why some words are in certain colors and other important things


To Chester Bennington and Julius Ceasar.  I wish both of you could still be with us today.

I’m sure you both would have many interesting things to say about this book, and in


History often repeats itself

but not through pop-culture references.


September 11, 2001

“The world just got a lot more dangerous.  Daniel, know that I love you.”

“You can tell me who dad actually was.”

“You never had one.”

“Surely there was someone?  Everyone has a daddy even if he doesn’t stay.”

“You’re eight years old Daniel.  There are some things you shouldn’t know.”

“Please?  It would make me feel better to know than to not know.”

“Well, I don’t know anything about your father.”

“You can’t tell me how he looked?”

“Honestly I can’t.  I only knew him for one night, and that night he knocked me


“One day I’ll find him.  That’s a promise mom.”

“Even the police don’t know who or where he is.”




Daniel O’Brian’s surname was from his mother though he hardly looked Irish, and had

none of their stereotypical traits other than his love of alcohol and physical

confrontations.  His Italian olive skin, dark brown hair and brown eyes were inherited

from his father, as with other things he wouldn’t care to admit.

His mother’s addiction to alcohol made it hard for her to hold a job, and since they lived

in a Los Angeles ghetto where gunfire was fairly standard, and 911 response times

weren’t,   he quickly became resourceful. He couldn’t learn things the ‘conventional’ way;

a teacher’s lecture bored the hell out of him, as with textbooks. In high school, he flunked

out of French, but by the time he was 18 he spoke fluent Spanish and Farsi.  He couldn’t

afford Rosetta Stone but that was irrelevant- Los Angeles had an abundance of Hispanics

and Persians he could talk to.  The only reason he took French rather than one of the

languages he already spoke was that that would have been “cheating.”

Having already made a name for himself at 16 by winning mixed martial art

tournaments in the under 18 bracket, he did ‘favors,’ some legal, others not, for

successful businessmen with a grudge and anyone else that could afford him.

Most of his money went to weapons, booze, a recurring gym membership,

Linkin Park tickets, and LAPD speeding tickets.

October 4, 30 AD

Circus Maximus was by far the most impressive amphitheater in all of the Roman


“Fight well, and you may earn your freedom.  Fight poorly, and you will die, as you

would deserve to.”

This stadium is huge.  I’ve never seen anything like this.  Of course, then again I am a slave, 

so I haven’t seen much of anything other than my masters home.

The massive stadium could hold roughly 150,000 souls, a number that Valerius could

barely even comprehend. Made of stone, it was over 600 meters in length and was both

a work of beauty and terror.  Fortunes of gold were both won and lost on a regular basis

as they would gamble on predicting the winner.  The lives of the men who fought were

also won, by gaining freedom or put to a permanent end.

“Now repeat after me.” The master told the gladiator slaves.  “I will endure being burned,

to be bound, to be beaten, and to be killed by the sword.”

By the Gods, I will make it out of this alive.  I can recite their words

with my mouth but never with my heart.  Valerius thought as he

repeated his master’s words.  As he was led from the cold, dark dressing

room into the arena of Circus Maximus, the bright Roman sunlight hit

his eyes. He felt himself urinate in his clothes- a common biological reaction to

fear, though having not been to the kind of medical school that would be offered 2,000

years later, he did not understand it.

The area had a dozen gladiators, all coming from different entrances.  They were

supposed to fight to the death and be aggressive.  Valerius, however, was more interested

in staying alive.  He stayed as far away as possible from the action, ignoring the crowd’s

boos that he clearly didn’t want to be there.  I never signed up for this.  To be a slave.  To

be a lamb to the slaughter.

His opponents were all dead or injured.  Valerius was left, but only as a result of his

cowardice. Suddenly, a chariot appeared.  Inside the Chariot was a Roman soldier, trying

to ram into Valerius and crush him.

Picking off a spear from one of the other dead gladiators, he knew he would only have

one shot for survival, in both a literal and figurative way.  There was no point in

throwing it unless he was completely sure he would make it.  Or unless the Chariot

would crush him anyway so he may as well throw it.  He knew how Chariot fighting

worked.  Many gladiators perished by getting too eager and throwing their spear too

early.  There was no benefit to throwing it unless one of those two conditions were met-

that you were either sure you would hit him, or you were desperate.  In Valerius’s case,

both of those happened at precisely the same time.  Throwing his spear he killed the

Roman soldier, watching the horse get startled and moving around erratically, thus not

crushing him as the soldier had intended.  Chariot riders had been beaten before,

granted it was a rare occasion.  The crowd cheered.  They viewed him as a coward at

first, for being born a slave who just wanted to live, but he’d redeemed himself with his

murder of one of their countryman’s soldiers.  In their view, this made sense.  Picking up

a sword and shield from his fellow dead slaves, Valerius thought he would prefer dying

to a Roman soldier instead, rather than to one of his fellow captives.  So far it was going

according to plan.  A roman soldier walked out of the gate.  With a red, bronze shield

with the words “S.P.Q.R.” embezzled on its plate and a sword that was made of better

material, and longer, than the primitive equipment Valerius had access to.  Valerius

however, had advantages of his own.  Being a natural left-hander gave him an advantage

in fights because most opponents are not accustomed to it.  His frame was long, with a

wide wing span between his fingers and shoulders.  Valerius also had a naturally good

reaction time and while he didn’t have the formal training or equipment of professional

soldiers, he had survival instincts to compensate for it.  One of which was his act of

deceit.  He held the sword in his right hand, deciding not to switch it to his left until the

last second, for an element of surprise.  He quickly struck his sword.  His foe guarded it

with his shield, but Valerius had another surprise coming.  A kick right into his

opponent’s solar plexus, which he knew it was called that not because he had attended a

21st-century medical school, but because he was more fluent in Latin phrases than any

21st-century medical student.  In the 21st century, Latin is seen as a snobby language that

only rich people with nothing to do learn.  However, Valerius would tend to disagree,

and would find most of those people more snobby and comfortable than he is.  The

crowd roared with a thunderous applause.  What they had just witnessed was a truly

special occasion.  To see one of their countrymen decimated by a mere slave, was the

kind of thing that made them excited and proud.

Valerius had earned his freedom.  And by “freedom”, that means he would be

conscripted into the Roman military.  They could clearly use his help.




November 15, 32 AD

“From where you all have come, the progress and polish you’ve accomplished in 6 short

months are truly remarkable. With backgrounds that couldn’t be more diverse, your

only common factor was a lack of knowledge and direction. Now the reverse is true;

You are one, one which fights alike.  Sleep and wake alike.  March alike.  And most

importantly, think alike.

“You will be serving in the Judaea province, specifically in Judea.  The farthest

extent of our empire is typically the least in our reach, and you will be stationed

to minimize that.  Judea’s thirst for revolt must be quenched, as with their

barbaric cult which is causing us nothing but pain.  Valerius’s job was to literally crucify

anyone who was a disenter to Rome.


February 12, 2002

“If you want to win, you should have a lineup that isn’t exclusively made of

fighting types.  My Mewtwo beat your whole team.”

“Dude, I don’t even care about this game.  You bought me a Gameboy Advanced

for my birthday, and I know those things cost 100 bucks.  You probably ended up paying

like 130 including the price of the game itself.  I only trained a team

so I could play with you since you’re my friend and I’d feel guilty otherwise.

And the show is even more cheesy and ridiculous than the game.  Only the Japanese

could create a small yellow mouse which somehow kills a ripped monster which sacks like

Rocky Balboa.”

“Pokemon never die, they just faint.”

“What?  That’s even worse.”

“Well, just imagine if they died after you spent so many hours training them. How

much would that suck?”

“Almost as much as the time wasted where you could have just hit the gym yourself.

February 14, 2010.

“Did you make a girl’s dream come true today?”

“I made 3 different girl’s dream come true today.”

“That’s not nice.  You shouldn’t be playing girls like that, but you’re 18 now.  I can’t tell

you what to do.”

“Yes, I am indeed 18 now.  I’d consider your forgiveness to be an adequate birthday


“Daniel, that isn’t close to a proper birthday present.  But this is.”  She said, handing him

a small box.

“Mom… what did I tell you about spending money on me for things I don’t need?”

“You need this.”

Inside the box contained a cross made of 24 karat gold.  It was obviously an ancient

piece of jewelry.  It didn’t even mention the manufacturer or date anywhere on it.

“What the hell were you thinking?  There’s no telling how much you spent on this.  I

demand you return it.”

“Daniel I didn’t spend a dime on that.”

“You… stole it?”

“Yes.”  I took it 18 years and 9 months ago.

“My biological father?”

“Yes.  He definitely got the better of me.  With that glaring exception.  You should have


“I… don’t know what to say.  I don’t think I should have this, but there’s no way I can

refuse if you feel the burden of that cross belongs to me.”

“I insist you take it.”

“If that is the case, this means more to me than anything.”

“I wish a high school diploma meant something to you.  You’re 18 now, and you chose

to not show up for a class doing God knows what.  I gave you my blessing and my most

prized possession.  You don’t have to live on your own, even though I could legally

disown you.  I never will.  But I know that you want to.  You’ve always wanted to.

Lots of people your age can’t handle the real world at 18, especially without even

a high school diploma.  But you will manage.  You’ve always found a way

to do everything.”

She latched the necklace onto him.

“You don’t have to find your father.  You probably never will.  But the one thing I ask is

you not lose this.”


February 27th, 2010

“And now ladies and gentleman, a match for the ages! Challenger Daniel O’ Brian against

defending champion King Baal!”

Despite most of the contenders being almost twice his age, Daniel was the only one to

find stage names to be immature and cheesy.

Daniel was heavily favored to win the fight. His opponent was coming off an injury

which was widely speculated to have not fully healed, and Daniel had been shredding

the competition.

“Fight!” The referee yelled as the bell sounded.

King Baal, whose legal name is Tiny Cox, threw one punch.

Daniel immediately fell the floor.

“One… two… three…”

Daniel looked his opponent in the eye with a smirk on his face. Apparently, him getting

knocked out so quickly like this had been prearranged.

“Eight… nine… ten… Knockout!” And with that, King Baal is our defending champion!

The audience was in awe. It couldn’t have been more obvious that Daniel intentionally

wanted to lose. Most people thought he took a bribe. They were definitely right. The prize

money for the tournament was a measly ten thousand dollars. The bribe was worth

almost five times that much. And the person that paid him to do this would get paid

much more than that.


“God Damn you, Daniel, I expected you to be more subtle about it!”

“If it looks like I actually lost, then my honor would have been damaged. I had to make it

obvious so everyone would know he wasn’t tougher than me.”

“Your honor is much more damaged now- You’re seen as a cheater. And since I was in on

this too, I’ll probably be locked up, and I’ll definitely have to cough up all the money I

won by betting on you to lose.”

Daniel was banned from competing in nearly all sporting events. Some banned him for

life, but most did a ban between two to four years. He would be 22 when he would be

eligible to box again. Having been disgraced, he decided to join the military to regain his

public image. He would become a Navy SEAL. Physically speaking, he could do anything

the Navy Seal’s wanted. But there was one little problem. The ASVAB, or Armed Services

Vocational Aptitude Battery, is an exam would be Seals had to take. Daniel couldn’t score

remotely high enough. He could only qualify for the army. For once, he realized staying ]

in school would have led to a better life.


“You know son, I don’t know what we should do with you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re fluent in Farsi. A language that is so similar to Dari, the language of Afghanistan,

that you could potentially be a translator. Yet your ASVAB score was way too low to

secure that position. The truth is we need you. Tell Ya what son. If you’re as serious about

this as you say you are, hire yourself a tutor and study for a few months.”

“But I don’t want to be a translator. I wanted to be a Navy SEAL.”

“Everyone in the world intends to be a Navy SEAL. Osama Bin Laden died, and now

everyone thinks Navy SEALs are as sexy as James Bond. Son, let me tell you.” The

sergeant said while pulling out a cigar. “Navy SEALs go through hell. Not just the famous

hell week where they go five and a half days functioning on less than four hours of sleep,

but throughout their careers. As an enlisted SEAL, you’ll start off making only about

twenty-two two thousand dollars a year. Be honest with me, son. Are you doing this for

the money? Go work on an oil rig.”

“I… sort of. What would be the advantage of being a translator then?”

“Less chance of death or trauma. Less stress in general. You could potentially work doing

translating as a civilian job when you get out.”

“Wow, that actually makes a lot of sense.”



May 3rd, 2011

“Why do they force me to be naked?”

“Because this is their way of torturing you.”

“They think you’re with the Taliban.  I won’t tell them if you are.”

“What will they do to me if I am convicted?”

“They want far more than you admitting you are a terrorist.  They want to

know accurate information.  They think you know about a plot to ambush our unit.”

“If I tell them, will they free me?”


“Our group is hiding in a camp 200 kilometers to the south of Shibar.

We are planning to attack in two days time at midnight.”

“Thank you for this information.  What is your name, so I can thank you?”

“Abdul Gulloo.”

Abdul was sent to a prison camp in Guantanamo Bay where he would spend

the rest of his life.

May 3rd, 2011

“And you’re sure you don’t want to renew your contract with the army?”


Daniel received excellent marks for his military service.  Master of

interrogation and had saved his unit countless times.

“I… can’t serve the American armed forces any longer.  What we are isn’t right,

and I would lose my mind to continue.  But I won’t lose my nerve!

I will find a job somewhere else, doing something else.”



“So you seem to like to befriend lots of brown and black people.  Especially Persians,


“Yeah.  Does that matter to you for some reason?”

“Well, I mean… I’m sure it’s fun to experiment with friends outside of your culture but

for actual relationships you don’t seem like the type to prefer ethnic girls.  You know

what I mean?”

“Of course, I know what you mean.  Undercover racist.”

“I was actually just about to ask you out myself, but I lost interest with your insult.”

“’If I think you’re racist I don’t want you anyway.  And secondly, and more importantly,

your breast size is roughly on the opposite end of the alphabet to what I prefer.”


July 23rd, 2012

It was a Friday night.  Daniel’s contract with the military had come to an end, and now

he had to find a new line of work.  During hard times like this, he found dopamine
releases to his brain to help him get through it.  Beautiful women who let him touch
them or mind-altering substances were his two primary ways of getting such dopamine
releases, whichever was more readily available.  He’d soon find out.
Inside one of LA’s hottest nightclub’s, Daniel scanned the dance floor.  He saw his drop
dead gorgeous blonde.  Her ass and tits were probably fake.  But Daniel didn’t mind.  It
was enough to release dopamine to his brain.  He approached her, dancing right beside
her to see if she’d accept his invitation.  She did and started grinding next to him.
But what would happen next substantially dropped his dopamine levels and would give
him a quick rush of adrenaline.  Another man sucker punched him.  It would turn out
that the man had danced with her earlier in the night, and combined with mind-altering
substances, he thought that punching Daniel would be a good idea.  Daniel, relying on
instinct hospitalized the other man quite quickly and decisively.  Then he realized that
wasn’t a good idea.  He knew there would be a warrant for his arrest.  With no
job or immediate responsibilities to stay in Los Angeles anyway, he packed his
things as quickly as possible and left the country.


“I need the quickest flight possible out of the country.  What’s my quickest one?” he asked

the clerk.

“Why if I may ask?”

“I just can’t seem to get along with anybody here.”

“Fair enough.  We’ve got a flight to London.  But hurry.  It leaves in 5 minutes.  There

won’t be enough time for security to clear you.  You can go on without it.  We trust you.”

Daniel looked at him and saw two middle eastern men being humiliated and stripped

searched.  “We didn’t do anything wrong!  Please get your hands off my testicles, how

could I hide something there?” the man said.

Daniel made his way quickly on the plane.  It would be over 10 hours by the time the

plane landed in London.  His luggage was packed though he had nothing in his carry-on

bag other than his phone, headphones to listen to music, a book on Buddhist philosophy

that he’d always intended to read, and a few good porno mags.

The person sitting next to him looked like a lovechild between Austin Powers and

Winston Churchill.  Great, he must be British.  I can ask him all about where I’m headed

Daniel knew.

“So what do you do for a living?” he asked him.

“I write detective novels.

“Why hopefully?”

“Because it’s undecided until I get my first job, and I’m in an exceptionally competitive

field. My Bachelor’s degree is in history, and I specialized in antiquity, which means the

time period of the Roman Empire.  My master’s degree and Ph.D. came from UCLA, in

your country.  My masters and Ph.D. double in both Archeology as well as Anthropology.

I’m well versed in tracing someone’s genetic background to find whatever they’d like.  I

also, know about forensics.

“Forensics.  So like, you would know what the cops are thinking – and therefore get

away with murder because you’re one step ahead of the game?”

She started laughing, not realizing he meant that seriously.  “Yes… I suppose.  I never

really thought of it that way.”

“So you just graduated and are going back to your home country to find work I take it?”

“Yes.  What about you, what brings you to England?”

“I murdered some people and had to get out of the country as soon as possible or else I’d

get arrested.”

“You have a twisted sense of humor.  You Americans are entirely different.  But I like it.

So what do you plan on doing once you arrive?”

“Honestly I’m not sure.  Probably check into a cheap motel and get wasted.  If strippers

are available, they’d be welcome to join me.”

“You don’t want to see the country but do something you could do here in America or


“I’m moving here permanently.  I thought we discussed that.  What I need from you is a

crash course in your country.  What it’s like to live there, the different types of places,

how the economy is or what kind of job I could realistically get.  What recreational drugs

are legal.  If the cops are serious about cutting down on speeding or if it’s just a general

guideline.  If your country doesn’t racially profile against brown and black people.  These

are all the things that matter to me.”


“You definitely can’t speed.  It’s generally more expensive in England.  You may have to

do with an apartment unless you’re well off.  Your taxes will be higher.  Drugs are still

illegal.  I’d recommend going to the Netherlands if that’s important to you.  From the way

you talk, if you’re serious, that’d make a better destination.”

“Do I have to speak Dutch?”

“Well, you don’t have to.  But it would make things easier.”

“Sort of like how I can still do drugs in England, but I have to try a little harder to not get

caught.  Trade off to not learn Dutch.  I don’t want to learn a fourth language, so I’ll stick

with England.”

“You speak three languages?”

“Yep.  English, Farsi, and Spanish.”

“What led you to pick those three?”

“LA has a large Persian and Hispanic population.  I naturally picked it up.  Have lots of

friends in those communities.”

“Well, that’s good that you seized those opportunities.  I’d imagine your language skills

alone you could find work.”

“Well, I’m ex-military.  I’m looking to do some private contracting.  My other languages

could come in handy, supposing they station me somewhere where it’s spoken.”

“So by private contracting you mean like Mercenary?  Military except for private


“Yes.  That or be a bodyguard.  I’ve done all kinds of stuff like that.”

“I believe you.  You look like the type of man that I wouldn’t mess with.  English men can

be a bit shy and effeminate.  You’ll definitely stand out in a good way.”

“Thanks,”  Daniel said.  It would be a long flight, and he was already sleep deprived.

“Thanks for our conversation.  I need to sleep.”

Arriving in London Daniel got off the plane and went to the terminal to pick up his

luggage.  He checked the luggage to make sure the contents remained.  “Yes!” he said as

he opened his first luggage.  It was filled with cocaine, pot, LSD, speed, mushrooms,

heroin, ecstasy and ice.

Then he checked his other luggage.  Inside were an assortment of machine guns, a

ammunition, knives, and grenades.  Finally, his last luggage was filled with more porn

magazines, and anthrax in case he had to kill someone.  Smiling, he walked off into

London, with a valet putting his suitcases in a taxi.

After having been hired, he set out for his new line of work.


April 16, 32 AD.

“And here we have a rebel.  A troublemaker.  Ladies and gentleman,

to be crucified before you is Jesus, son of Joseph and Mary!”  Some

of the crowd cheered, others were crying.

“Don’t do it.  You’re better than this Valerius.”

Who said that?  Why are there voices in my head? Valerius wondered.

Valerius whipped the man until he was in proper place.  He nailed

Jesus on the cross, and met absolutely no resistance.

“You are called king of the Jews, yet you put up the fight of a baby.”

He scoffed.  Jesus didn’t reply.

Valerius nailed Jesus to the cross.  Red blood began gushing down his

arms and to the green grass below them.

“You coward.  You have caused nothing but problems.” Valerius

said to him

“Father… forgive them.  For they do not know what they do.”

Jesus replied.

Forgive us?  Everyone whom I’ve crucified has cursed at me, spit at me. 

Yet he wants me to be forgiven?  I’ve never known a man like this in my life.

“This man has done nothing wrong.”  One of the two men crucified

besides Jesus said.

“Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise.”

Jesus responded.

“Even you, killer, have a chance to join me in paradise.”

Where are these voices inside my head coming from?  They sound exactly like

Jesus’s voice. 

I won’t lose my nerve.  I set out to do this and I will.

Mary, Jesus’s mother, cried out for her son.  “How

Could you do this to my son?  He has done nothing to be

in such pain!”

“Woman, this is your son,” Jesus said to his mother.

“This is your mother.” He said to one of his disciples.

Valerius put a crown of thorns on Jesus’ head.

“I’m just following orders.  I… don’t want to do this.”

There’s just something about this man.  Something in his presence

that makes me feel completely different than I’ve ever felt before.

“The only orders to be followed are from the kingdom of God.

And even you, my killer Valerius Maximus, has an opportunity

to join it.  I hope to see you in heaven.”

I’ve been so cruel to this man, and he hopes I will see him in heaven? 

If someone treated me one tenth as bad as treated him, I would invite them to hell,

not heaven.  He is unlike anyone else in the world.

By now more and more blood was rushing down Jesus’s body.

He would die soon.

“My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?”  Jesus said.

I thought there were many God’s, not one.  Could all of my God’s be false? 

Even if there is one God, why would God let this happen to this man?”

December 31, 32 AD

“Snow and sand is such a curious mix. In that, they tend to be virtually identical by way

of petty annoyance or walking up a damn hill behind a trail of blood. It seems a little bit

sad really how pathetic thieves, murders, or Jews that crossed a real Roman can be when

forced to carry the instrument of their demise. Killing a man is really not that difficult as

the human body can only withstand so much force undergo so much trauma before it

shuts down.  However, it seems almost too easy when they are presented in shackles and

alone, hopeless, without a chance to ever try to harm rather than in my past experience

with what seems like legions rushing out with of trees like wild beasts intent on the

destruction of you, people you love, people you hate, pretty much every bastard you’ve

ever met.  Somehow it seems demeaning to only be handed your victim. It’s much like a

caged lion being fed steak from a cow. It’s nearly pointless, to be frank. Today I hadn’t

even whipped a man before he started crying and professing to crimes I doubt that he

committed out of sheer fear of my whip. He trudged through the sand and

snow, complaining about what I deem a slight scratch on his back and legs.  I will never

understand the cowardice of these people. I once saw a man who was barely old enough

to be a man in Germanic countryside takes three arrows to the chest and still had the

fight to continue without fear. It appears to me that all of Judea is a bunch of victims

crying out to the government they hate without fear. It appears to me that all of Judea is

a bunch of victims crying out to the government they hate but do nothing about.  Their

numbers could easily start a revolt that would at least get Caesar’s attention but they

shrink away at the sight of armor and weapons. However, the is a sect that I have noticed

for a time that has formed a more cult-like following that proclaims a load of filth about

prophecies and a bunch of age-old nonsense. They are harder to break and I find myself

curious about the reasoning behind it. They are far from revolution, however, almost

zen in the way they carry themselves. But for all their talk of holiness and even the son

of their God, they still wind up on the wrong side of my devices and though they

maintain  their stance of a fearless rock after a few lashes they break and in the winter

their blood mixes in the sand and snow on a long walk to the Place of the Skull.”


I was instructed to guard Jesus’s body.  And yet… his body disappeared before my

eyes.  They will think I’m a traitor.  And they would be correct, by this point. 

I cannot serve another day.  Both because they will falsely accuse me of intentionally

giving up the corpse of Jesus, and because I feel morally obligated to leave their

ranks.  But with the power of Christ by my side, I shall push through. 

I don’t fear even death, I only fear to do evil.

Valerius held onto his shield- a red circular one made of wood, with the

words S.P.Q.R, and an Aquila, which was a symbol of Roman power.

The worst part of escape was the initial part- that is where he was mistaken to get

caught, as he was still within Rome’s grasp.  The further got the less chance he had of

getting recaptured, but there were still challenges.  One of which was he did not speak

the common tongue of the middle easterners, which he was raised to believe were

‘barbarians.’ He survived by hunting wild animals for food and cooking them over a

fire.  He would have to steal water from wells.  Something he hated to do,

but he did it out of survival rather than greed.

As he traveled further and further east, he finally reached Parthia, a growing empire

built out of the ashes of Persia.

As he was hunting game one day he encountered strangers – an entire legion

of Parthian troops.

Jesus… I suppose this is the end.  I will meet you in your kingdom of heaven.”

Valerius was instantly captured and interrogated.

“Hello?  Need… water.” He said, exhausted.

Aman replied to him, but in a tongue, he didn’t speak.  After some time, the two of them

realized they apparently didn’t speak the same language.  The man waved his hands,

instructing Valerius to follow.  They were brought before a military-style camp, and soon

Valerius realized he was probably going to be held captive.

“So you are Roman.  This much cannot be denied.” A man told him.

“Unfortunately yes.  But who are you?”

“I am a translator whose job it is to interrogate you.  You will not be asking

questions from now on, only answering them.”

“So you can ask questions but I can’t?  Why the double standard?”

“Because your life is in the hands of our mercy, and not the other way around.  Now.

Clearly, you are a Roman, and we are sure you are a spy.  The only question

at this point is what your mission was.”

“I’m no spy.  I’m a deserter from the Roman army.  They are wicked through and through

. Forget about executing me.  I will fight for Parthia, especially

if it means an opportunity to strike Rome.”

“A spy always has a story.  This is yours.”

“If I am a spy, wouldn’t I at least be fluent in your language?  How could

I hope to succeed as a spy if I cannot communicate with anyone?”

“Perhaps you can speak our language, but pretend not to.”

“I’ve done lots of horrible things in my life in the name of Rome, but spying was never

one of them.  If there’s anything I could do to prove to you I’m not a spy, I will do it.”

“What is your reason for why you say you felt the need to betray Rome?”

“Many things.  The final straw was when they killed the man who was sent to this earth

to change the world.  This may sound crazy to you, but I know what I felt.”

“The man who was sent to this earth to change the world?

Elaborate on what you mean.”

“A man sent down from God, to give people a chance for forgiveness for their

wrongdoings.  A man who does not stand for anyone empire, or creed, or

color but for all.  He has promised to come back a second time, though I

don’t know when.  In fact, this man is the son of God himself.”

“Son of God as in one God?  We Parthians know that only one God exists,

but you Romans believe in many false Gods.”

“Yes, I was taught to believe there are many Gods.  But after my experience

with this man, I know there to be only one true God.”

“Yes, Ahura Mazda is the one true God.  Is that who he claimed to be God?”

“He said God is just a word, and the tongue the word is spoken in is irrelevant

.  The essence of whether you have faith in him is more important

than the word you use.”

“This man you speak of.  Did he have a name?”

“Yes.  Jesus of Nazareth.”

Jesus of Nazareth?

“Yes.  Is he familiar to you?”

“He is the chosen one our own prophets have spoken of.   Some of our wisest

magi were present at his birth in Bethlehem, and showered him with gifts.”

Valerius felt relieved that they seemed to finally believe him.  “His people want to be

free of Roman rule, yet he refused to fight it.  Yet even then, that

didn’t spare him from Rome’s brutality.”

“What do you mean by this?”

“That he was crucified to death.  By Rome.  To be more specific, by me.

It’s the most wicked thing I’ve ever done, and something I’ll never forgive myself for

.  And yet… Jesus himself begged for my forgiveness as I did the act.”

You killed him?  If you knew him to be the chosen one to cleanse the earth

of evil, why would you kill him?”

“I didn’t completely understand who he was and what I was doing until after he died.  He

spoke to me in my mind after his death.  There was also one particular event that helped

me realize his significance.

“What was that?”

“Three days after I killed him… his body was gone.  I was instructed to guard

his corpse and I knew for a fact nothing happened to it.  But on the third

day, it literally disappeared before my eyes.  Then he spoke to me in my

mind once again, telling me he’d been reunited with God, his Father,

in heaven.”


October 31, 2014

The house of the main event was extravagant with no expenses spared, featuring two

stories with 4 bedrooms filled with luxury furniture, the finest champagne, and even a

few celebrities.

There were about fifty or so people in the house, and 15 in the foyer, where Daniel was.

He felt sweat drop down his neck, feeling uneasy with himself for the first time since

getting off the boat.  Gunshots. He could swear he heard gunshots. From where?

Suddenly his mind went blank.  He almost fell out of his chair but somehow held on as

his mind span in a million directions.

“Make it stop.” He accidentally whispered out loud. More shots.  His first memory of

them was when he was only four, and he continued hearing them throughout his life.

Then blood.

Whose blood, his own or someone else?

Then a boom. All of a sudden his breathing was erratic.

“He’s on drugs, fucking idiot. Why’d you invite him?”

“I thought he would have interesting stories to tell. But he’s probably too high to say


Daniel finally was able to regain himself. “I’m not on drugs. I just… remember the past.”

“That’s a new one. So what are you on? Or are you just mad?”

“I’m not crazy.”

“What’s your issue, then?”

“I can’t explain it right now. I’ve never felt anything like this before.”

“Do you want us to take you to a doctor?”

“No, I should be okay.  But I did promise you I’d entertain your guests with my stories.

I don’t like interruptions, though, just let me say my piece.”

Daniel then went on a thoroughly detailed account of his life from when he was a small

child to his the latest contract with Cadterk.

“Excuse me sir, but are you telling us the truth? We wouldn’t judge you if you actually

inherited from your parents” a man with a thick Persian accent asked him.

“I’ve inherited nothing but determination from my mother, and I’ve never met my


“In that case, I’d like to speak with you privately.”


“Wait… is that a Faravahar around your neck?”

“Yes. I’m not Persian though, but I grew up with a lot of them, LA has tons of them as you

probably know.”

“Do you speak Farsi?”

“Yes. I don’t have much understanding of the written language, but I can speak it pretty


“That’s even better.  Then when I give you a substantial offer our conversation will be all

the more private.” the man told him in Farsi.

“Why should I follow you?”

“I want to help you out.”

“Ok.  Now you’ve got my attention.  I’m not sure why you’d want to help a total stranger,

and I’m usually skeptical of people like that.  But I’ll listen to you.  Just know that even

though I’m young, I cannot be fooled easily.”

“I want to give you a new job.  But if you want it no more questions, just follow me.”

The man went to the second floor of the house and went into the private bedroom.

They continued the rest of their conversation in Farsi and whispered as an extra caution.

“Do you want to make the world a better place?’

“I thought you had a job for me. Now it’s this make the world a better place bullshit.”

“Well, that’s what I meant, it’s a job. Only you’d be making the world a better place.”

“None of my previous jobs have done that, so this would be a first. But what’s the job?

And more importantly, what would you pay me?”

“Well, my daughter, my beautiful, precious daughter was taken advantage of.

She was raped.  I would pay you enough to where you may not have to work another

day in your life, depending on how much you already have saved up.”

“Let me guess, you want me to kill the man who raped her. Why not just try him in


“We did, he was found innocent. That’s how it usually goes it sexual assault cases. But if

you did this you would not only be far richer, but you’d have my eternal gratitude.”

“You’re asking me to commit a felony. A massive, major crime.  Considering money is

involved this couldn’t just be a murder, this is a hit-job.  England doesn’t have a death

penalty, but I’d definitely be in prison for the rest of my life. But considering I’m not a UK

citizen, they could transfer me back to the States, where I would be tried and executed


“I didn’t know you were a coward.”

“There are a million fair criticisms of me, but coward isn’t one of them. Let’s not forget

the fact that there’s a reason you’re apparently willing to pay me a hell of a lot to

do this rather than just do it yourself.  And just how much do you plan to pay me


“10,000 dollars.”

“For something that could potentially have me in jail for the rest of my life?

You want to arrange revenge while keeping your own ass safe from the sidelines.

Even if I do get caught probably nothing will happen to you. I can’t imagine what sort

of plan-B alibi, you already have even if this goes wrong.”

“You’re a smart kid, but quite the rude one for someone trying to help you out.”

“You aren’t trying to help me out.”

“I’ll add another 10,000 to the total. That proves now I’m trying to help you.”

“No.  Trying to help me would be giving me money for free.  What you’re doing is trying

to pay the bare minimum possible for something with dangerous implications.  How

about 50,000?”

“40,000 tops, and that’s my final offer.”

“Done I suppose.  But I need to know one more thing.  Is this guy famous or something?”

40,000 dollars for just one hit job is a pretty good deal.  The vast majority of hit jobs max

out at 30,000.  Perhaps my target is high profile and thus well protected.  I’ve killed for

money before plenty of times, not even including doing it in the military where for some

reason, nobody looks at it that way.

“No my son.  He doesn’t even have a Wikipedia page.”

“First, don’t ever call me your ‘son.’  Second, I’m in.  I hope I don’t regret this.”


“I’ve come to talk you about the job. There are a lot of things you didn’t tell me about.”

Daniel said in Farsi as they continued the rest of the conversation.

“Come on in Daniel, sit down and have a cup of tea, let me make you some kebab.”

“No. I’ve had kebab almost nonstop for the past two weeks.  I’m not hungry anyway.

Look.  I want this to be brief.  While it’s apparently true that he’s a nobody regarding

fame, he’s still got money from someone or something.  You didn’t tell me his house

would have an extremely sophisticated state-of-the-art security system, and that even

his vehicle would be loaded with cameras.”

“Apparently the bastard is paranoid.”

“Should he be? Apparently, someone is willing to pay more money to kill him than the

average American makes in a year.”

“Yes, but I doubt my daughter was his only victim.  He’s probably lost track by this point.”

“All the more reason for him to be paranoid. I’ve also come for more information on the

man if you have any. I’ve been stalking him as much as I can manage without raising

suspicion, and not

once have I saw him in an isolated area.”

“If you’re telling the truth, what kind of things does he do throughout the day?”

“Well firstly he spends almost all his time in his house, which leads me to believe

either’s inherited his money, or he makes it at home, perhaps as some sort

of stock trader. Although the former is probably more likely than the latter.

I would happily shoot him through the window except he doesn’t have any of those,

at least any that aren’t made up of bulletproof glass fortified by god-knows-what-else.

This is going to be extremely tough to pull off, and you’re lucky that I’m

actually desperate for money. I’ve never seen someone this well protected. He doesn’t

even go shopping for food, he has that delivered to his house. The only time he is even

remotely vulnerable is when he goes on dates.”


“Yes. “I’ve hired a detective.”

“You did what?”

“The money I’m paying the detective is chump change compared to what you’d be paying

me. Anyway, on these dates, he is quite aggressive.”

“In what manner?”

“He gives them incredibly expensive gifts, perhaps averaging in as much as the 1,000

price range.  Usually, after that, he takes them to his home.”

“Has he ever not done so?”

“Actually yes, whenever the woman refuses he becomes furious.”

“He sounds like a sociopath.”

“We already knew that, although that’s irrelevant. I can’t say I like the man. But even if I

did, for this kind of money, I’d get him.”

“What does he do when he becomes furious?”

“Well they’re in public at the restaurant so there often isn’t much he can do, but

presumably, he’d be much worse.”

“Have you ever caught him in a situation where they’re not in public and not in his

house or car?”

“No. And’s why I haven’t been able to do this.”

“Perhaps I should give you a deadline to stop being so slow.”

“Are you insane? If anything you should be raising my price considering

we now know how incredibly difficult this will be, which you obviously knew about

before hiring me.

“My daughter is dying of terminal cancer. I want this done while she can live to see it.”

“You realize I can just forget about this entirely don’t you?  You can either be patient with

me or find someone else.  Anyone who just rushes in with no genuine opportunity will

not succeed in killing him and worse, get a life behind bars.  You hired me because

you realized I know what I’m doing when it comes to these things, so why can’t you just

trust my judgment?” “Oh and one more thing.  I’ve done dozens of hit jobs before, none

of them were remotely this hard.  He has been a huge pain in the ass, and a drain on my

time and energy.  This is a time I could have been using to enjoy myself, find work, or

whatever else.  You’ll have to add another 15,000.”

“Are you serious?  After I’ve given you so much time and you accomplished nothing?”

“You don’t have to pay it now.  You have to pay it after I finish killing him.  And trust me,

if I can manage to kill this son of a bitch, I can definitely kill you.  You’re not anywhere

near as well protected as he is.  It would be wise of you to pay up when I finish the job.”

“Fair enough.  Your prize is 55,000 if you kill him.”



It was a dark Friday night.  Partly because it was winter time, and partly because

England had less sunlight in general than LA and the middle east, what he was more

accustomed to.  It was also colder.  Much colder.  But nothing remotely anything he

couldn’t handle.  In fact, this would be one of his easier jobs.  Killing his victim would be

the easier part.  The only trick would be not getting caught.

Daniel went to the entrance of the house.  It was a large mansion, with cobblestone steps
leading up to it, in all its elegant extravagance.  God, I feel so ridiculous dressed up like
this he thought to himself.  He hated wearing fancy clothes, his black suit, and tie.  He
had no choice but to wear it so he could blend in, in an atmosphere he despised.
Hi, I’d like to get in as I’m an invited guest to this party.” he said to the man at the front
“We’ve never heard of you.  Do you at least have an invitation?”
Damn it.  I was afraid of this.
“I know people are trying to lose weight these days, but what if I gave you 100 pounds?
Could that get me in?
“Are you trying to bribe me?”
“Of course I’m trying to bribe you.  How could I possibly sugarcoat that?”
“Alright, give me the money.” the guard said.
Daniel smiled, handing it to him.
“So I can get in now?”
“No.  You’ve been fooled.  Next time don’t try to go places you don’t belong.
You’ll heal from this mistake and feel better. Get out of here before you get in real
Daniel didn’t like the way this man was talking.  It reminded of something he felt very
passionate about,  but he couldn’t put his finger on it.
He rolled his eyes and left.  “Sometimes, I don’t know why it doesn’t even matter how
hard you try.” he thought to himself, walking out of sight.
I’ve got to get in.  I’ve already gone too far to forget this job.  I need the money, and I don’t
want to piss off my customer.  Plus, this is one of the more honorable hit jobs you could
find.  What to do… I guess I’ll have to climb through a window in a vacant room.
Daniel crept up through the darkness to a secluded area and climbed up to an empty
room…  Perfect, that’s him!  And look and what he’s doing to that girl… that’s definitely
him.  He won’t even see this coming.  Not that I feel sorry for him of course.
He shattered the window, trying to minimize the noise but there was only so much he
can do.  Once inside the room, he instantly spotted his client’s target.  Both the woman,
but especially the rapist was startled by the window breaking.  The man had a look of
panic and fight or flight instinct as we so shocked.  “Please don’t turn me in!  Please don’t
turn me in!” the man begged, unaware of Daniel’s intentions.
“Turn you in?  I’m getting paid to kill you.”
Daniel instantly regretted his smart ass honesty because it caused him to lose any
remaining element of surprise.  The man stood up and threw a forceful punch at Daniel,
who managed to dodge and lock the man’s right hand into an armbar, with the delicate
parts of his nerves on wrists and arm being pressed down against him, making the pain
excruciating.  “Get down!”Daniel ordered.   Daniel was obviously familiar with Krav
Maga, or some other lethal form of combat for real-life situations.  To say he was fighting
dirty was an understatement.  The man complied.  Almost anyone would avoid further
pain.  Daniel continued more verbal commands, knowing that the man knew he was at
Daniel’s mercy.
“Don’t resist as I drag you!” he ordered, setting the man up in the most convenient part
of the room for his last moves.  He kicked his attacker right in the temple of his
head.  Then he repeatedly kicked him on the back side of his
head.  This was the softest part of the skull with the least protection.  One blow to there
could kill a person, though Daniel kicked him several times just to make sure.  Daniel
checked the man’s throat to see if there was a pulse; there wasn’t.  He was gone.
The woman appeared to be about 5 or so years older than him.  She looked
understandably traumatized, though he had to worry about himself first.

“Siri.  I’m on the third floor of a house with a corpse I need to dispose of.  I can’t take it

into another room or others will see me.  I can’t toss it out the window because someone

will see it.  I can’t light it on fire because people will notice.  What should I do?”

“I’m sorry Daniel.  I don’t understand what ‘I’m on the third floor of a house with a

corpse I need” —

“Fuck!”  Daniel said, turning the Siri off.  “I don’t even know why I thought that would

work.  Well, guess we’ll be getting out of here then.  Me climbing up here was hard but

feasible.  Me going down carrying you with me with a guarantee that I won’t drop you is

not something I can promise.  You can take that risk, and you can also take the risk of you

escorting me out of here and then they start thinking that we were in this together, that

we killed him together.  Both of these are serious possibilities.  On the other hand, I could

just walk out of here without you at all.  But that doesn’t seem right.  I have enough

sleepless nights as it is.  Your call, but make it quick.

She looked at him with both shock and relief.  It appeared she didn’t know what to think

of him, and whether she should trust him or fear him.  Although she obviously didn’t

have a choice.  Tears still came out of her eyes.

“I’ll walk out with you,” she said,  taking several minutes to regain her composure.  “Take

this,” Daniel said, taking his shirt off.

“I’m a man and I don’t mind being shirtless.  I’d say you need this more than me,” he

explained.  “Just don’t do anything stupid.  Ready to go?”

“Yes… I have an idea.  Just follow my lead, ok?” she asked him.

He was actually relieved that she asked him that.  He didn’t know any of these people

and her guidance was probably for the best.

As they left the room they were immediately greeted by two men in three-piece suits

having cocktails and caviar.  “I told you to be careful!  That’s the third dress of mine that

you have ruined!”  It appeared these two men had come to investigate where the noise

was coming from.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to be so loud,” she explained, trying to convince them that the

noise was something else.  She clung to Daniel’s arm.  “He likes being rough…” her hand

trailed down his chest.  “Maybe we should just finish this at home?  It’s so sexy when you

take charge and tell me what to do.”

Daniel could immediately tell what she was trying to do.  “Yes, I just can’t get enough of

you tonight,” he said, forcing a smirk.  “I have no self-control, I admit.  But you don’t

know what it’s like to be a man, and a man with such a beautiful woman beneath him,

no less.”  He puts his fingers through her hair and held his hands on her hips firmly.  “I

have work tomorrow and will eventually need to get some sleep.  Let’s enjoy ourselves

while we still can.”

“Mmmm…. don’t tease me!  Let’s go home…” she said, pulling closer to his body, pressing

her against his.  She let out a moan, bringing her lips in to graze the crook of his neck.

The two men in the hallway just looked at each other and shook their heads.  They left

Daniel and the woman alone and returned downstairs.  They casually left the party.  The

same guard

the entrance looked at him.  “”How the bloody hell did you get in here?

You’d better explain yourself!” You don’t have an invitation.  I never let you in!”

guard said.

“I bribed you.  Remember?  You have 100 pounds in your pocket that I gave to you.

Check his pockets if you don’t believe me.”

“Fuck off you fetus!” the guard was hysterical.

Daniel smirked.  “It’s so unreal. Didn’t look out below.

Watch the time go right out the window.

Trying to hold on, but you didn’t even know.

Wasted it all just to watch you go.

I kept everything inside.

And even though I tried, it all fell apart.

What it meant to me” –

“Shut up yank.  I hate your stupid American music. Go ruin someone else’s life now.”

“So can you go home by yourself, or you need me to take you?” Daniel asked her.

“I… I don’t think I am in the best condition to drive.  If you have a car, we should take

yours.  I doubt any one would be suspicious of me leaving mine here.”  As it was, it was a

common thing for her to come to a party, and leave behind her car because she typically

left with someone else.

I’d be glad to take you home, then.” he said, getting into his car.  She noticed Daniel’s car

was odd.  It was obvious he’d spent a lot of money on it, yet not in the classy ‘luxurious’

sense.  Which is to say it looked like something out of the military, only it wasn’t a

Hummer.  It was clearly custom made, with material that didn’t look attractive or shiny

but was incredibly durable.  Bullets wouldn’t shatter it.  His windows were also tinted

black.  There were also cameras in the car, both facing in the interior and exterior.  She

noticed this immediately as she hopped into his vehicle.  She was increasingly suspicious

that Daniel was a hitman.  Or at the very least, involved in shady activity.  She hoped to

remain on his good side if he had one.  Yet at the same time felt oddly attracted to him.




“I know this isn’t the appropriate time to tell you this, but I don’t know if I’m ever going

to see you again.  I’ve got to say it now.  Look.  You’re a beautiful woman.  You have this

nice house filled with fancy stuff.  And you live alone, yes?”


“That’s going to make you a big target.  With all due respect, I could really hurt you right

now if I wanted to, and you would have been absolutely defenseless.  I’m better than that

but a lot of guys aren’t.  There are tons you could do.  First, put hidden security cameras

in every room of your house.  If some dude wants to take advantage of you in your own

house, which is usually the type of place where it happens, you’ll at least have footage to

take it court.  Have cameras on the outside of your house as well, of course.  So what if

you’re at his place or some new destination you’re unsure of?  Use your cell or something

else to record all the audio, and keep it in your pocket.  Then delete it later when it wasn’t

necessary.  An audio recording for proof is much better than nothing.  I would

recommend carrying pepper spray or a taser but I don’t know if they’re legal here.

They’re also far from making you invincible.  There’s also the problem that if he takes by

surprise, which he almost always will, then there won’t be time regardless.  That’s where

things like Krav Maga come in handy.  It personally took me two years to master it to the

point where I was comfortable using it in any street fight situation.  There are tons more

than this, I could be here all night.  You just suffered from a traumatic event.  Over 90%

of people have flashbacks for the next two weeks.  This is considered normal.  I have tons

experience with these things.  If it goes on for more than a few months then it is beyond

normal, in which case you could be diagnosed with PTSD.  I personally have it, though

my experiences were different than yours.  I’m also much physically stronger than you,

but there’s the possibility you’re mentally stronger than me.   You appear to be, I’ll give

you that much.  I’d recommend against anti-anxiety medicines like Valium.  Only take

that stuff if you absolutely need it.  You could develop a dependence on it, and the side

effects are questionable.  Over the counter, stuff like Benadryl should be ok.  Despite the

‘common knowledge’, stuff like Yoga and meditation actually wouldn’t be a good idea

right now.  Anything that completely clears your mind is going to set it to a default state,

and right now your default state will almost certainly be this event.  Stay busy as much

as possible.  You don’t want anything like meditation until you’re well over this.  I mean,

you’ll never be 100% over this.  Same with me and my problems.  You’ll most likely get to

the point where life is basically what it was.  Try extra hard to keep a steady sleep

schedule.  Not unless you weren’t already doing that.  Keep anything to stimulate your

mind outside of mind altering drugs.  Do anything productive.  When I say productive I

don’t mean things that have to make money, although if they do that’s even better, if

money is important to you.  If painting, reading, writing, playing an instrument gives you

self-worth, do that.  It doesn’t have to be artistic.  It could be exercise.  It could be

watching movies you enjoy.  It could be 100 things.  Anything that gives you self-worth

and makes you feel better.  Just don’t sit still.  That’s the worst thing you can do, and your

mind will naturally drift off to where you don’t want it to be.  There’s other stuff I can

say, but I already gave you a lot to remember.”

Rose was stunned by his speech.  Whoever this guy was, he clearly knew what he was

talking about.  She could tell when men bullshitted just to sound smart to impress her.

She was well beyond believing he was a regular party goer who happened to be at the

right place at the right time save her. Daniel clearly had that’s guy death planned, and

he’s a badass.

“Oh, and one more thing…” Daniel said with a thinly veiled grin.

“What is that?” she asked.

“I’d keep those hidden cameras even if you got a boyfriend to move in with you.  Then

you know if he cheated on you.”


“There are a few exceptional people like Martin Luther King and Hitler.  But for the vast

majority of us, we are not good guys or bad guys.  Just guys.  Being a bad guy definitely

pays off more, I’ll give them that much.  If you can be a bad guy and still sleep at night,

I’d highly recommend it.  It’s not for me, at least not much anymore, but it’s a highly

profitable field.  Cheaters and abusers, not just in a relationship but in general, always

win.  The rewards, even when caught, are worth it.  Even though Lance Armstrong got

‘disgraced’ he is still a household name throughout America, has inspired millions of

people, and has gotten included in movies and books.  Does that not tell you anything?

The man has over 100 million dollars to his name to this day.  You think he regrets

cheating at all?  And that’s a man who rode bicycles.  There are tons of other people who

cheated and abused in much darker and disturbing ways than that.”


“What’s your name, sir?”

“Do I have to leave it? I don’t even know her.”

“If you don’t even know her, how did you end up taking her to here?  It’s not every day


just drops off a stranger to the hospital.”

“Daniel O’Brien, but my name is thoroughly irrelevant.  All I did was find her injured in

a dark alley, and I decided to be a good Samaritan and help out.  I’m sure she has family

and plenty of friends. But even if that’s not the case, I want no more part in this.  In

particular, do not charge for whatever bill she may have.  She seems like a nice enough

person.  But again, I don’t know her.”



“Hi, is this Daniel O’Brien?”

“Yes.  Who is this?”

“This is King’s county hospital.  Would it be alright if Rose speaks with you?”

“Oh god damn it.  I thought I made it very clear that I don’t even know her, and I just by

chance found her and brought her in.  More importantly, how the hell do you have my


“She insisted on finding you because she wanted to thank you.  You’re the 24th Daniel

O’Brien. We’ve tried so far.  There are a lot of them listed in the yellow pages, and almost

every single one was pissed that we had the wrong number.  I am frankly very relieved

to have you on the line, sir.”

“Whatever, fine.  I’ll talk to her.”

“Hi, I just wanted to call to thank you.”

“Yeah, that was nothing.”

“It wasn’t nothing. You risked your life just to save me and got absolutely nothing in


. I have to make this up somehow. At the very least you punished him for what

he already did, at the most you potentially saved my life, I wouldn’t put anything past


“You really don’t owe me anything, but what do you have in mind?”

“I could at least take you out to dinner.”

“When are they discharging you from the hospital?”

“Well it’s been a little over one month already, and they say they only want to

keep me another week just to make sure.”

“Where would you like me to take you?”

“I don’t care, I never go to restaurants.”


“There are several reasons why I never go to restaurants. One of them is because I live

in a nice area and my car costs at least 30,000 pounds.”

“Is there at least somewhere you’d like me to take you?”

“I’ve been craving Italian lately so that I guess.”

“I think I can manage that. Saturday evening, La Pasana at 6?”


“Why did you insist we sit by the corner wall?” Rose asked with a perplexed look on her face.

“I like to be aware of my surroundings.”  Daniel honestly replied.

“What do you mean?”

“If something is going to happen, I want to be the first to know.”

“You really think something would happen here?”

“Something can happen anywhere.”

Rose looked at him funnily.

“So I can’t help but notice your accent.  Are you an American?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Why, unfortunately?”

“My country is responsible for lots of atrocities, some of which I should

personally, be held accountable for.”

“Is that your way of saying you have military service?”


“How old did you say you were?”

“22, you?”


“Does it bother you I’m six years younger?”

“No. But the fact that you’d go to a five-star restaurant dressed in the attire of a

16-year old boy is disappointing.”

Daniel rolled his eyes. “I dress how I like to.”

“You’re wearing a rock band shirt. What does that say… Linkin Park? It’s hard to read it

because the print is faded.”

“I’ve held onto this shirt since I was 18 and used to wear it almost every day.”

“Well, despite not even knowing you I somehow realize that’s the truth.”

Daniel didn’t take her disapproval well, and there was an awkward pause.

Finally, she began to speak again.

“So what do you actually do for a living?”

“Right now I’m working for Cadterk. They transport goods from London and

it’s my job to stay mounted on alert in case there’s a problem.”

“What kind of challenges are there usually?”

“Pirate raids.  So, what do you do for a living?”

I bet she’s just an escort.  With that kind of body, she’d be losing potential money not to be


On the other hand, she seems incredibly intelligent as well.  There’s no telling what she’d be

capable of.

“I’m a professor at Cambridge. I’m finishing up my dissertation and my job can be

stressful and time consuming. But it’s quite rewarding as well.”

Cambridge… isn’t that one of the top Universities in the world?  I don’t keep up with schools

and even I’ve heard of them. Combine her six-figure salary with whatever gifts she

must be getting on a regular basis and she has at least as much as I do.

“What do you teach there?”

“History, and I specialize in antiquity.”

“I’m not exactly well-read so I have to ask, what does antiquity mean?”

“The classical period.”

“That doesn’t help me either.”

“From the ancient Greeks to the early middle ages. I can probably tell you more than

you’d want to know.”

“You could probably educate me in general, I’ve been falling behind in school since I

was like… 6 years old.”

“Did you graduate from high school?”

“Nope, flunked out.”

“So,” Rose said, seeing that conversation wasn’t going in any good direction.

“That man you… fought the night we met.” She said, looking around to

ensure no one overheard them. “Did you personally know him?”

“No.  And other than the answer I just gave you, we’re not going to talk about that.

This isn’t the time, nor place.”

There was a long silence.

“What kind of things are you interested in?”

“Going to rock and rap concerts. Getting stoned and wasted. Going to the gym.”

“I think I know people like you. Not personally, but I know people like you.”

“I don’t know personally anyone like you either. You’re the first I’ve had a full

conversation with.”

Soon, they were interrupted.  Two men approached them.  One was a black skinned man,

almost certainly of African ancestry.  He was dressed in the type of attire Daniel would

call ‘preppy.’  A polo vest and tan khaki pants, with a shirt and a tie underneath the vest.

The other man appeared to be quite a bit younger.  Perhaps around 19.  He wore a star of

David necklace.  Maybe he was Jewish.  He wore a shirt that said ‘Condoms are easier to

change than diapers.’  Perhaps he was even more immature than Daniel.


“Excuse me.” the black man said.  “This is very rude for me to interrupt, but you said that

you are an anthropologist?”

“Yes sir.  Why do you ask?”

“I am a university professor myself writing a thesis on ancient Rome.  I was wondering if

you would consider collaborating with me.  It’s hard to find a well-qualified

anthropologist to work with.”

“Maybe.  What is your name?  I’ll look you online and decide for myself.”

“Pete Daltrey.”

Daniel interrupted their banter.  “Hey Pete.  I can’t explain this in words but…

I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere before.”

“You have.”


“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.  You’ll have to figure it out yourself.”

What?” Daniel felt himself getting frustrated.  “Also, you sound American.  Just like me.

Am I right?”

“Yes.  I am from the states.” Pete replied.

“No shit?  Well, you sound very articulate, well spoken, and easy to understand.  But at

the same time, really generic.  What part are you from?”

“That’s Seattle for you,”  Pete replied with a toothy grin.

“Well Pete, you appear to be quite a bit older than me.  Do you remember Nirvana when

they were huge?”

“Yes.  I’m 30.  Never really cared for the grunge scene, I ignored them.”

“What?” Daniel exclaimed.  “Listen, man, I’ve never even been to Seattle, and I might be a

better Seattlite than you.  If you are as old as you are and are from Seattle,  you need to

be listening to Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Alice in Chains, Soundgarden, and whatever others.

You need to be rocking out like it’s 1992.”

Rose barely even knew Daniel, but couldn’t help but feel embarrassed for him.  He was

making an ass out of himself.   “Daniel you really shouldn’t be telling this man what he

has to like or dislike just because of where he’s from.”

Daniel rolled his eyes.  Soon, a waitress approached Pete.

“Sir, we forgot to order your drink.  What can I get you?

“Coffee.  Triple shot, not decaf.  Chai caramel latte.  Two pumps of sugar.  Five pumps if

you don’t have real sugar.  I demand the aroma of the coffee to smell wonderful and

expect nothing less.  This country has not treated me well at all.  The only thing I like

about it is the rain.  Makes me feel right at home.”

Daniel burst into laughter.  Pete and the other man walked away.

Rose wasn’t aware of any Seattle stereotypes, so she didn’t react the way Daniel did.  She

was able to quickly focus back to their previous conversation.

“So, has defending ships from pirate raids always been your job,

or did you have previous ones?”

“I’ve done lots of other things. I was a bodyguard for some Christian missionaries

, I defended oil rigs, I worked for different various companies and

individuals in the Middle East. I also made my start by serving in the military.”

“Any close encounter’s you like to talk about?”

“Yes, I’ve had close encounters.  But that’s something else I’m not going to talk about.

And most people who do like to talk about close encounters are bullshitters, people that

actually experience this stuff don’t like thinking about it, much less talking.”

“It might actually help you to talk about it.”

“No, it wouldn’t.  Do you think you’ll ever go around bragging about what happened to

you the night we met?”

There was a long pause.

“That… was hurtful, but I see your point.  Although some people do benefit from venting

about traumatic experiences, but I can respect that you aren’t one of them.  And I must

say you do seem quite a bit different than most of the people I’ve surrounded myself

with.  But I’d love to see you again, I think we could have a lot to learn from each other.”

Yeah, I doubt it. More like she just likes me. She’s easy on the eyes for sure, and is

completely different and a nice change of pace from any woman I’ve been with before.  And


I’m probably in twice as good shape as the men she usually dates, and less than half their

age, she may see me the same way.  Whether we would get along long-term is the real


“I agree and I’d love to meet you again sometime. Where would you like?”

“Our next meeting should be a surprise.  I’ll take you somewhere I bet you haven’t been


“That may actually be for the best, the kinds of places I go you probably wouldn’t


“Would next Saturday at 6 work?”


Alright, next Saturday meet me at my apartment and I’ll take us.”

“Hello there Daniel.  Perhaps I could step inside first before we go out?

So we can talk about private matters that you don’t wish to discuss in public?”


Stepping in, she looked around.  Her thoughts that he had the mentality of

a teenage boy were only reinforced.  The flat was quite messy.  Posters

of scantily dressed women holding machine guns, completely naked

women holding machine guns, and completely naked women without anything

at all, as well as machine guns with no women attached to it,

were all over the place.  And of course, rock band posters such as Linkin Park

and Nine Inch Nails.

“So…” she said, trying not to comment on his atrocity of a flat

“Now you could tell me about my assaulter the night we met?”

“Well he was a straight-up sociopath, but I’m guessing you already

realized that.  I can tell you he’s only been to jail once, and that was

for cheating on his tax returns.  Of course, he was guilty of 100 other

crimes that are 100 times worse, but that’s what they caught him for.



“So given your last name.  I’m guessing you’re of Irish ancestry?”

“Yes.  I don’t really think about it though.  I was born in America and will die either there

or here, so how Irish am I?”

“Good.  I was afraid you were one of those Irish Americans who supports the IRA.”

“What’s the IRA?  If they’re anything like the IRS I definitely don’t support them.”

“It stands for Irish national army.”

“Sure, why not?  Ireland can have an army just as much as anyone else.”

“They’re terrorists.”

“Look, I don’t even give a shit.  You’re the one who brought it up.”

“I’ve never seen tough men like you cry.  I’m guessing men like you never do it?  How

can you resist breaking down in tears when things get hard?  And for you, surely it


“Look.  Saying tough men don’t cry is about as true as pretty girls don’t poop.  We do it,

just not in front of others.  Especially not others of the opposite sex, we have to be in

separate rooms.”


Daniel looked at Rose with both lust and bewilderment phasing through his eyes.  She

looked incredibly sexy in her attire.  He didn’t know what to call it, but it was a maxi

dress with solid black colors, contrasting against her milky white skin.  The deep v

neckline showed a subtle amount of her breasts just enough to give him a taste, but no

more.  It was slitten up to her thigh, revealing her elegant legs.

He could not for the life of him figure out why she continued to spend time with him

long after her thanks, yet at the same time not show some affection towards him.  Was

she waiting for him to make a move?  Normally he would have no hesitation.  There was

something different about her though. “So we are officially dating now.  Officially

together.  Right?”

She looked at him.  She found him incredibly sexy and devilishly handsome.  Yet at

the same time, just a little bit hard to take seriously.  With his worn out black Linkin Park

shirt on, and his baggy cargo pants with silver chains going down the sides. This was the

attire of a teenage boy, not the type of sophisticated gentleman she was used to. “You

could say that.  You are a lot different than me, but I’d be lying to say I’m not attracted to

you.  And I also easily have enough money to get by.  And even though you’re six years

younger than me, there’s just something about you.  Like… you seem like you’d be able to

take care of me.”

“So basically, that’s a yes.”

“Yes.” She sighed, biting her lip.  Part of her felt like she was going to regret this.  But she

knew she would regret it even more if she never even gave him a chance.  With a man

like Daniel, he would either be the worst she ever had, or the best.  There could be no in-

between.  She secretly lusted for him just as much as he did for her.  She just couldn’t be

open about it.  For her to openly lust him, he would have to earn it.

“Every one of my previous girlfriends has given me a lap dance.  How about it?”

Daniel smirked.  He was used to dating attractive women, but she blew all of them out of

the park.  She was, quite honestly, the most attractive woman he’d ever gotten to

personally know.  Just the thought that sex would happen eventually with her was

already making him aroused and hard, even if it wouldn’t happen tonight.

Rose rolled her eyes and looked at him with disgust.  She was already beginning to

regret her decision.  And if there was ever a physical altercation between them, it would

be a very one-sided affair.  She would have to be firm to make sure she didn’t get pimp-

slapped around. “Daniel I have much more class than the typical woman, and the typical

woman has more class than the strippers and streetwalkers you’re used to.  There’s a lot

of things you’re going to have forgotten about.  Cumming on my face?  I find it degrading.

Don’t even think about it.  Calling me a bitch, whore, slut, skank?  I’d break up with you

the second you do it.  Anal sex?  Never, not even if we get married.  Fellatio?  I might

consider it.  But you would have to really earn it.  I have more fingers on my either of my

hands than a number of guys I did that for, and even then I would not ‘choke’ on their

penis.  Spanking me?  No.  I hope by now you get the picture.”

Daniel pouted and didn’t even try to conceal his complete disappointment.  This would

be a relationship completely different than what he was accustomed to.  He desperately

wanted her, and her cat and mouse game only made him want her even more. “Uh… ok.

That changes things.  But alright.  I’m going to have to use the same line you used on me,

“there’s just something about you”  Oh and one more thing.  Do I still get to listen to

Linkin Park?  Because that would be a deal breaker”.

“Yes.  Go ahead and listen to Linkin Park.” She said, giving off a slight chuckle.  Clearly,

the band was important to him.  If she was going to have this strong, hunk of a man,

there were a few things she would have to put up with as well.

“What about Nine Inch Nails?”

She shook her head with a smirk.  Perhaps he wanted to make sure he could listen to

whatever he liked.  Or perhaps he just wanted to be a smart ass. “Never heard of them,

but the same answer.  I don’t associate my partners taste in music with myself being

degraded.  Listen to whatever you want, as long as it isn’t a Hitler-worshiping song, or

something else completely appalling.”

Daniel let out a sigh of relief.  There was at least some chance she would be reasonable.

But with that out of the way, his eyes and face once again turned to lust and desire.  He

wanted to have her, now.  He was aware she was not the type to hand out instant

gratification.  So he would have to gratify her instead. “So you said you wouldn’t give me

a lap dance.  What if I gave you one?”

She couldn’t believe what she just heard, as she gasped out in shock.  It wasn’t like he

had offended her.  Rather, it was completely unexpected.  It took her a good fifteen

seconds to even muster up a response. “Uh… I don’t know.  I’ve never had one before.”

Daniel rolled his eyes, shaking his head.  Does she actually want me at all, or is she

trolling me? “Oh come on.  Don’t be a total prude.  It’s fun, and even if you don’t like it, all

you have to say is stop and I’ll stop.”

Once again, she had to think long and hard about his proposal.  It seemed reasonable

enough.  She had never even thought of a man giving a woman a lap dance.  But he was

as sexy as they got.  He could pass as a male model even, just as she could pass as a

female one.  They both had their careers, but that was beside the point. “Fine…  So what

do you want me to do exactly?

Daniel prayed that she would love this.  Otherwise, it would backfire.  He would even get

his feelings hurt if she ended up hating this, and that was coming from a man as tough as

nails. “Just sit down in your chair.  Sit down and don’t do anything.  I’ll take it from


Rose hesitantly sat down on her Benetti’s luxury Italian couch, her feelings clear as she

glanced at Daniel as if he were about to do something crazy. Her eyes darted in between

him and the iPhone he was now plugging into his Dr. Dre stereo. Her confusion showed

on her face as he did. Simply causing him to stifle a bit of laughter at her reaction. “What

are you getting that out for?”

Daniel grinned, a catlike one, naughty in nature. He’d chuckle under his breath as he

made sure the sound wouldn’t blast their ears open, and change the song to ‘Closer’ by

Nine Inch Nails, turning to Rose, whose signs of nervousness was beginning to show.

“The fact you asked that question is proof enough you’ve never had a lap dance.”

As the music started, he immediately began to do a crotch grab and sexually intense

pelvic thrusts.  He flowed in perfect rhythm with the beats.  She could already tell he’d

done this before, and clearly knew what he was doing.  The lyrics, on paper, sounded like

something she would hate.  But to see him, right there, dancing like that, turned her on

like mad.

You let me violate you

You let me desecrate you

You let me penetrate you

You let me complicate you”

Daniel took his shirt off.  The only time she’d seen him without his shirt off before was

the night they met- and that didn’t count, she was too bruised up and shattered to

possibly be sexually aroused, even in spite of how incredible his body looked.  This was

very different.  She had complete control of this situation.  At least she hoped.  His abs,

chest was perfect and looked like a flawless Greek statue.  Except he appeared to have

scars.  But that only made it sexier.

Help me, I broke apart my insides

Help me, I’ve got no soul to sell

Help me, the only thing that works for me

Help me get away from myself

He sat down on her lap, his legs wrapped around her.  She could feel his dick.  It was

rock hard, and the bulge seemed bigger than what she was used to.  She felt herself

getting wet, her heartbeat starting to accelerate.  He put his fingers through her hair, and

kissed her lips, looking at her emerald green eyes with his own brown-eyed lust.  His

Italian ancestry showed, his firm olive complexion pressed up against her fair elegance.

Their ancestors had met almost 2,000 years prior in this very place.  Though neither of

they knew it, and at this point, neither of them cared.

He got back off of her, standing back up.

“I want to fuck you like an animal

I want to feel you from the inside

I want to fuck you like an animal

My whole existence is flawed

You get me closer to God”

He unbuckled his pants and pulled his zipper down, intentionally doing it slowly.  To

make her have to wait for it, to force her to anticipate it.  Soon his pants were completely

off, as he tossed them across the floor.  His blue boxers and white socks were his only

articles of clothing remaining.  His legs looked even better than his chest, and that was a

bold statement.  Not overly muscular to the point that he looked like a ridiculous

bodybuilder on steroids, but tough enough to look like he was in extremely good shape a

and took care of himself.

He sat back down on her lap, his legs crossing her waist once more.

You can have my isolation

You can have the hate that it brings

You can have my absence of faith

You can have my everything

She hadn’t been this wet in a long time, not even during intercourse.  She was already

started to pant.  Daniel was about to caress her stomach.


Daniel frowned and felt extremely frustrated.  “So you didn’t like it after all?  I’ve got to

say I’m disappointed.”

“No.  That was the bloody sexiest thing I’ve ever witnessed.  I want you to keep that song

playing, pick me up, carry me to my bedroom, and take me.”

He let out a wide grin.  The sex wouldn’t be as rough as what he was accustomed to.  But

he would get to do the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.  And the classiest.  And

most intelligent, elegant, and educated.  Absolutely worth it.  She probably had more to

teach him than he could teach her, and he knew a lot.

He picked her up by her ass and legs, with Rose holding the iPhone and speakers in her


“Help me, tear down my reason

Help me, it’s your sex I can smell

Help me you make me perfect

Help me become somebody else”

He had never been in her bedroom before.  It was magnificent, beautiful.  Far unlike the

minimalist, simple living quarters in his apartment.  He would estimate her bed alone

cost almost 3,000 dollars.  It was made of brown exotic wood, golden colored pillowcases,

and had a canopy over the top.  He’d never seen anything like this.  He had the money to

buy things like this himself, it just never occurred to him.  He laid her down on her bed.

“I want to fuck you like an animal

I want to feel you from the inside

I want to fuck you like an animal

My whole existence is flawed

You get me closer to god”

“What are you waiting for, idiot?  Undress me and fuck me.  Fuck me until I’m sore like

I’ve never been.”  Rose was used to talking like a lady and raised not to say such things.

She’d temporarily forgotten about it. Daniel was surprised by her sharp tongue.  But it

didn’t bother her.  In fact, he liked it.  It was what he was used to.  He was in her house.

Hell, he was in her country.  But he was starting to feel like he had the home field

advantage. He unzipped her dress slowly.  He wasn’t used to a woman wearing

something like this,  and it appeared to be very expensive.  Surely if it broke she would

be very upset.

“What’s taking you so long Daniel?”  She couldn’t stand it anymore.

Soon it all came off.  He gently laid the dress down, and she threw it off the bed like it

didn’t matter at all.

“Through every forest, above the trees

Within my stomach, scraped off my knees

I drink the honey inside your hive

You are the reason I stay alive”

Daniel was stunned by her body.  Her breasts looked incredibly perfect, yet at the same

time was not helped by a plastic surgeon.  He knew the difference.  They were easily

double D’s, if not significantly bigger.  And her frame was so thin.  Too perfect.  Every

inch of her skin was flawless.  She was even more attractive than he was, and that said a

lot.  She was even more beautiful with her clothes off than on.   He took off his own

boxers and socks, now there was absolutely nothing on either one of them.  She got on all

fours, looking at him with immense desire.  She didn’t know this was a Nine Inch Nails

song.  She didn’t know who Trent Reznor was.  But whoever he was, he knew what he

was doing.  The beats of this song were fuck beats.  The entire song was a lust anthem

that, under any other scenario in the world, she would hate.  Daniel made it work


He thrust into her, going very soft and slow.  From her earlier description, anything

other than extreme gentle sensations would offend her.  He would prefer to be safe than


“Fuck me like you mean it, idiot!” she cried out.

He didn’t have to hear that twice.  He tried to remember all the things she told him not to

do.  It should still be possible to fuck her very hard, very fast, without breaking those

rules.  He started going as fast and hard as he possibly could.  Maybe it would hurt her.

But she did literally ask for it.

It was indeed somewhat painful for her.  Not only was he more well endowed than what

she was used to, but he had much more energy and force than what she was used to.  She

let out loud moans.  It was not the type of ‘ooh baby I love it’ things she usually said.  She

said those things just to make a man happy.  This time, what she said was unintelligible.

Just high pitched moaning sounds.  She made those sounds because she couldn’t help it,

not out of any attempt to make Daniel happy.  She gripped her fists, digging her nails

deeply into her pillow.

He kept going.  Though by now the music was almost over.  Surely, it didn’t matter.  It

had done its purpose.  He thrust into her with rapid force and held onto her breasts with

his hands.  Not only because they looked wonderful to play with, but he was curious

what they felt like- they felt amazing.

She came to an orgasm.  Normally she didn’t orgasm at all, or if she did, it took much

longer than this.  And for her to orgasm before the man was an entirely new concept to

her.  “oh Fuck, oh God!” she cried out, her eyes rolling to the back of her head and slight

tears coming out.

Daniel kept going.  He could potentially do this all night.  The only two limitations were

the fluids in his balls, and how much soreness she could take.  He had a feeling he knew

which of those would happen first.  She was panting incredibly hard.  Even Daniel

started to notice her heart beats.  With each thrust, she gave out an indecipherable

feminine moan.  It only turned him on more.  Finally, he realized he was going to

orgasm.  “Can I cum in you?” he asked.


“I’m on the pill.  Go ahead, I don’t want a mess on my bed anyway.” She barely managed

to say.  He came inside of her, his eyes tightly shutting as he finally made some gasps of

his own.

He started rubbing his dick to make it hard again.  She put her hand over his.  “No.  No

more.  You’ve already made me sore enough.  I have to be able to walk tomorrow.  Lay

down on your back Daniel.”  He followed her instructions, laying down and panting.

She rested her head on his chest, admiring his body as he did the same to hers.  He was a

wild, strong, young American rebel she wasn’t entirely sure she could tame.  She would

have to worry about that later.  This felt too good.

“Daniel, don’t leave.   Stay with me tonight.  Please?” she laced her fingertips through his


“I wouldn’t leave unless you made me.”

“The man the night you met me.  You killed him for money, didn’t you?”


“So you didn’t feel sorry for me or empathetic for me?”

“I did.  But that’s beside the point.  Were it not for the money, I would have never shown

up to that party, to begin with.  In fact, I wasn’t even invited, and had to sneak my way


“Would you kill me for money?”

“I would kill literally anyone in the world for the right price.  Of course, for you, the price

would be much higher.  I actually know you, and you definitely aren’t a piece of shit.”

“No… you don’t mean that.  Surely you don’t mean that.  You would actually kill me?

How much is my life worth?”

“Uh… I don’t know.  10 million dollars?  I’d kill you for 10 million dollars.”

“You think my life is worth 10 million dollars?”

“You should be honored at that price.  The average hit job runs between 15,000 dollars to

30,000.  If someone offered you 10 million dollars to kill me, you should definitely take


“No, I would never do that.  I am not a horrible person.”

“I mean, nobody should take it personally given the context they only did it for the

money.  No one in the world will pay me 10 million dollars to kill you anyway, because

like I said, they could get someone else to do it for much cheaper.  And besides.  I’ve

known you for less than a month.  You make it sound like we’re married with children,

and we’ve been together for 10 years.  I won’t lie and tell you I don’t have feelings for

you or that I’m not attracted to you.  I definitely am.  Still, the time we’ve been together is

insignificant.   Look.  In some parts of the world, women are sold into slavery for less

than the price of a goat.  For you, or even a man, to be worth 10 million dollars makes

you extremely important.  There are people who would assassinate the royal family for

that kind of money.


“That’s nice, and I appreciate the honesty.  But this isn’t the time or place.  When a

woman is in bed with you who you just made love to, that’s not the right answer.  The

right answer is that you wouldn’t kill me in any circumstance, and you’d give your life to

protect me.  Even if that isn’t true, it’s what you should have said.  Had you said it, you’d

have gotten a blow job.”

“Uh… fine then.  That’s what I meant to say.”

“No.  Too late.  You already said the wrong thing.  But don’t worry, this won’t be your last

chance.  Just your last chance for tonight.”


“So, it’s interesting that you are willing to commit to a life of crime but not join a gang.”

“Beyond all the things I’ve already told you, their hazing rituals are horrible at best.  A

lot of them have the entrance requirement of having intercourse with someone who is

HIV positive.  I swear I’m not making that up.  How sad could you be to disrespect

yourself like that?  And it only gets worse from there, you’ll be either dead or rot in

prison before you’re 30.  No thanks.  You can make a living by committing crimes, but it

won’t be for very long in a gang.  Rival gangs are your enemies, and people in your own

gang can turn on you at any time. They can decide you “betrayed” them whether it’s fair

or not.  If I wasn’t smart enough to stay the hell away from them I wouldn’t be here right

now.  Don’t even associate yourself with them or do business.  Stay away at all costs.”

“I’ll be honest Daniel, I don’t know if I want to commit to a criminal long term, even if

he’s not in a gang.”
“Oh, I don’t plan on living like this long term.  It’ll catch up to you eventually no matter

how smart you are.  There are other ways I can make an honest living.  Teach private

self-defense lessons, I’m sure I’d be good at that.  Or just write a book about my crazy

adventures, except leave the locations, dates, names, changed.  And fabricate some parts

up completely just to make even more interesting.”

“Well, you’ve been through some interesting stuff.  I’d read it.”


“Thanks.   There’s another way to make lots of money without resorting to a life of crime

that has a bad reputation, but it’s the best long-term solution to get ahead, because unlike

a life of crime because it’s legal so there aren’t repercussions for getting caught.”

“And what would that be?”

“The grey area.”

“What the bloody hell is the grey area?”

“Things that are technically legal, but morally horrible.  Sort of like the opposite of my hit

job to kill your serial rapist.  Highly illegal, but arguably morally sound.”

“List examples.”

“Ok so remember how I said defense lessons earlier?  Now it just so happens that I’m the

real deal and could actually teach you things.  But the martial arts industry, at least in

America is basically unregulated.  You could say you’ve been doing this for 30 years and

you have blah blah blah 5th-degree blackbelt in this and champion in that, and it can be

bullshit to lure customers.  You could be a charlatan and have no idea what you’re really

doing.  Morally wrong?  Yes.  Illegal? No.  That would be an of an example of the grey area.”

Daniel continued,

“Car salesman, especially the used ones, pretty much by de-facto standard have to be

willing to operate in the grey area.  Handing out credit cards or student loans to dumb

young people who don’t know what they’re doing is the grey area.  Get it?  There’s tons of

money to be made that way, you can do it for as long as you want since it isn’t illegal, but

it takes a special kind of person do it forever and be able to sleep at night.”

“I would honestly be more comfortable with you if you were one of those “grey area”

men.  Frankly, I’ve been some before.”

“Oh, lord no.  The vast majority of grey area stuff requires lying or deceit.  You couldn’t

find a worse personality type for that than me if you tried.”



“That’s nice to know.  But I wouldn’t cheat on you anyway.”

“It’s good to know that you’re loyal.”

“I tend to be loyal to people much stronger than me especially after I know what they’re

capable of.”

“I thought you heard me say I wouldn’t hurt you just for cheating?”

“I didn’t say you didn’t say that.  I said you’re a lot stronger than me and I know what

you’re capable of.  This is obvious to me, no matter what you actually say.  At this point,

you can call yourself Mother Teresa but it wouldn’t mean anything to me.”

“Fair enough.”




“Daniel, how many people have you killed?  Illegally I mean.  I would expect it during your service.”

“Even with only the illegal ones, so many I’ve lost count.”

“And how have you gotten away with it so many times?”

“Well, I don’t know the statistics in the UK, but in America, roughly 50% of homicides go

unreported.  Incidentally, there are two types of people who commit homicides.
Those who are stupid and just got angry one day, and those who are smart and know

what they’re doing.  Which of those two do I strike you as?







((NOTE  the following is meant to be at the very end of the book, as sort of a cliffhanger

until the sequel:))

“Merry Christmas Daniel.”

“Merry Christmas.”

“I want to let you know what I got you first. I’ve been quite anxious to know what you’d

think of it. You told me more than anything you’d like to know who your father was. You

want the good news or the bad news?”

“I thought this was a Christmas present. How is there bad news?”

“Well, the bad news is we aren’t precisely sure who he was. But we do know his ancestry

through your DNA. Your father is of Mediterranean ancestry, with Italian being the most


“That doesn’t exactly help much.”

“No, but it’s a start. I did tell you my father owns a large hedge fund and I’ve convinced

him to spend some money and resources looking into finding him.

We have it narrowed down to a list of less than 50 suspects.”

“Do you have any idea how long it will take them to find them?”

“Anywhere from 4 months to two years. But they’re on a good track with several

leads. Once they find him, you can do whatever you plan to. I won’t try to stop you.

You’re actually going to kill him, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am.  Why shouldn’t I?”

“I completely understand why you hold a grudge against your father.  However,

you will be given a choice when the time comes.”


“I’m unsure.  I know a lot, but not everything.  The choice will be between either killing

your father or something else.  I also know your father will eventually come back to kill

your mother, then later kill you, and finally kill me.”

“Unless I kill him first?”


“So why the hell wouldn’t I want to kill him?”

“I’m not sure.  This is why I’m trying to help you do it.  When the time comes, you’ll know

what the other option is.”

“I’d trade the world to kill him.”

“And I’m glad to help make that happen.”






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