Renegade

Chapter 3

     Ben woke up at 5:00 A.M and readied himself for his meeting. He ate a box of stale Cheerios, dry without the milk, and took a cold shower. Then, he readied himself with a small handgun that could be used to defend himself. At 6:00, with the address in mind, he left his grimy apartment.

     Ben walked down the steps and exited the building. He blinked at the sunrise that streamed through the towering skyscrapers. Birds chirped in the dawn as he journeyed down the sidewalk that was littered with trash. Ben looked at the grand city around him and couldn't help but reminisce in its beauty. He walked block after block, wanting to get to his destination as early as he could. Ben always knew the importance of being a step ahead of a client.

      He got to the bar that was indicated at the address. Usually, clients picked public places because people were less likely to make a scene. It promised a peaceful conductivity of business; a guarantee for the businessman. However, the bar looked a little vacant from the outside which struck him as odd. When Ben entered the bar he immediately glimpsed whom he was supposed to meet with: a man wearing a navy-blue fedora.

     Ben's heart rate slowed as he locked his gaze with the other man and walked toward them. His client was accompanied on either side by two other associates. They were each dressed in black suits that somehow looked more expensive than the men wearing them. All three of them, oddly, wore black gloves that obscured their hands. When Ben walked closer, the one wearing the navy-blue fedora looked up. He had dark brown eyes and thinly-cropped hair.

     Ben stepped over to the booth they were sitting in and looked around. The bar did not seem to be out of the ordinary, with the only odd thing being that it was a little light on customers. Ben took in a deep breath and sat down in his booth.

     "You send the box last night?" he asked simply.

     The man in the center, the one with the navy-blue fedora, nodded his head, "That's correct, Mr. Cain."

     "What businesses do you have?" asked Ben, picking at a fork on the table. "You gonna buy a round of drinks?"

     The man in the center nodded his head again and looked to the man at his right. He sat forward and said:

     "Mr. Cain, we've heard a great deal about your ability to...retrieve artifacts of certain historical value."

     Ben nodded his head, "Retrieving artifacts is my specialty. So, what is it you're looking for? A painting? A vase?"

     The man on the left shook his head, "Mr. Cain, we are looking for an object of great historical significance. But, we first need your consent if we go any further."

     Ben blinked, "And that would be?"

     "You are not to speak, consult, or mention the object we are about to talk to you about," the man in the center, the one with the navy-blue fedora, stated. "This object is of the utmost secrecy."

     "Oh, I get it," Ben nodded. "You're the C.I.A.? Are you looking for something of national priority?"

     The men looked a little offended, the one on Ben's left began to speak, "No, we aren't with the government. We are of our...own organization."

     "So this one's off the books," Ben continued. "What is it you want?"

     The man on Ben's far-right lifted a thick packet onto the desk, "We want you to retrieve an object that the ancients referred to as: the Stone of Ascension."

     "Cut the shit," Ben interrupted, trying to hold back a smirk at his client's utter seriousness. "Don't go all Indiana Jones on me, what exactly is this now?"

     The man in the center took in a breath, "It's an artifact of great value. Physically speaking it's an orb, but in reality it's so much more."

     "It's existence was thought to have been merely myth," the man on Ben's far-left said. "However, just months ago it was discovered by an expedition."

     "So, you want me to get it?" Ben asked. "This...what was it called?"

     "Stone of Ascension," the man in the fedora answered. "That was what ancient legends called it."

     "We've been watching you Mr. Cain," the man on the far right stated. "We feel that you are the only one who can get the job done as flawlessly as we wish."

     Ben opened up the file and looked into it. The first picture was of a circular, orb-like object rippling with colors on the inside. Ben shook his head a little.

     "You know," he said, "I'm not sure if this is up my alley. Paintings, real objects, are what I do. I'm not a fantastical fake-object finder."

     All three of the men seemed to sit back.

     "We have payment," the man in the center stated.

     Ben raised his eyebrows, "Payment? Let's talk numbers."

     The man on Ben's far right cleared his throat, "We have information."

     Ben looked to him, "What would that be?"

     "We have information," he repeated, "on your family."

      The world seemed to slow down, Ben's mind spinning. He looked at their hands, and the sleeve on one of the men had pulled up a little so bare skin could be seen. Barely, just barely, the dark marking of a tattoo could be seen.

     The men were with the Black Dragon.

     They were the people who had taken his family.

       "Damn you," Ben hissed.