Honor In Evil

Chapter 2 - Vengeance is brewing

The wind began blowing harder out in the woods. The droplets of rain were decreased by the thick branches and leaves which sheltered them from the pouring water, and most importantly it sheltered them from being seen. 

However, they were safe. There were no helicopters in sight, and they ran for three straight miles without walking. Both of them were breathing heavily, and took a much needed rest to regain their energy.

"Man, I could beat Usain Bolt baby!" yelled Keck.

Travis was silent, just laughing at Keck's erroneous statement. They've been friends for awhile now and whenever Keck went into his egotistical and conceited state, he knew best not to say anything. It would have fed his confidence beyond the levels of space.

They met in Beirut, Keck was after a Syrian assad who fled after the revolution, and Travis was a Lebanese translator who worked for the Central Intelligence Agency. 

"A car will be picking us up ten miles from here, and we'll be driven to a CIA safehouse." said Travis, "We'll then gather all the evidence, and present our case with justification to the director."

"Where does he want to meet?"

"At the Sunset Marquis in Los Angeles."

"Eh, I'll think about it." said an uninterested Keck, "I'm pretty busy, he can meet me at the strip club baby."

Travis was petulant, and he became unsatisfied with the cocky and unserious retorts from his friend. He couldn't tell if he was serious, or annoyingly joking around. That's the one thing with Keck, you could never ever tell, you would have to infiltrate his mind and probe his thoughts. 

Keck was born and raised in San Jose. His parents were immigrants from Sweden. He was always bullied in school, made fun of for his accent and his abnormally light blonde hair. In third grade he pleaded to his parents to sign him up for martial arts lessons. They finally succumbed to his desires, because they knew themselves that their little boy had to defend for himself in a gang populated city. By eighth grade he was a black belt in Tae Kwon Doe, Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, and a force to be reckon with in Muay Thai. He became interested in a career which involved constant action, and combat. 

 In high school he became one of the most popular students, a star at every sport, and liked by everyone. His humbleness was discernible in those days, and he used his popularity to his advantages later to achieve his success as a bounty hunter. One night, on his way to an after party he passed by an alley and he heard cries for help. Without hesitation he meandered in and walked upon a black male brute who was sickingly raping a helpless woman against a wall.

The brute noticed the stranger, and dropped the girl. She fell to the ground, her arms hung over her face. Her eyes made contact with this stranger, and from her look she was obviously thanking him.

He pulled his gun out from his waist, fumbling it in the air before regaining control and aiming it directly at the stranger. He knew he had an advantage while he had the gun, he walked forward and said, "Move and I'll blow your head off."

"Names Keck," the stranger calmy replied.

The Brute moved forward some more, until the gun was pressed firmly against Keck's skull. His finger on the trigger, ready to pull if he tried anything sneaky.

Keck knew that the advantage now favors him. From the classes he took and years of training, he was guaranteed to have an advantage because he could swiftly make a move and catch the threat off guard while making him a victim.

"What you doing here nigga?" said the Brute

 Keck raised one of his eyebrows up. Giving him a questioning look as if the man was stupid. He didn't reply.