FISTFUL

PROLOGUE

The night sky was dark and dismal, illuminated only by the occasional streaks of lightning that split the darkness and illuminated the ground below for brief moments. The thunder that followed was so loud that it shook the ground, echoing off into the night. The darkness of the night enveloped her as she moved through the shadows, her mind focused on one single thought. After years of waiting and being forced to live a life of lies and secrets, she was finally ready to take back what had been taken from her. She knew there were risks involved and that she might not make it out alive, but she was determined to find justice and reclaim her freedom. She had been through too much and had seen too much for her to turn back now. She was ready to take on the world, ready to make those who had wronged her pay for their sins, and ready to take back what was rightfully hers.

She moved quickly over the cobblestones, mindful enough to keep her face partially hidden. After tonight, there had to be no one who recognized her face completely enough to give an accurate description. On the heel of that thought came another, “if you get out of this alive, that is”. She shook it as she could not afford to think about that. Not now. Not when she could almost reach what she wanted. Not when she was almost free. The night air had now become still and heavy as she turned the corner on the street crept through its darkened alleyway, her steps almost soundless. “How fitting”, she thought. Now the whether matched her state of mind. She moved behind the trashcan that had been placed there that morning and waited. The man came as expected. She would give the man the documents that had mistakenly been sent to her work email four years ago. The documents that had never been meant for her but had been the bane of her existence for the past four years. Now, she would give it to this FBI agent she had been in contact with, and she would be free. For security reasons, she had called her sister to tell her exactly who she was going to see and why. Not that she expected anything to go wrong, she just couldn’t shake the feeling of impending doom that been plaguing her since she got up That morning. She waved at the man twice. He waved back three times, just as they had discussed and moved towards her to receive the documents she already had outstretched. Only she didn’t see the gun until it was too late. She felt the bullets pierce her chest and wondered why she couldn’t hear them coming out of the gun. As the man ben to retrieve the flash drive, she saw the silencer at the mouth of the gun. “Ah”, she thought, “so that’s the reason there were no loud bangs accompanying the bullets”. She closed her eyes and let the darkness take her.

******

The night air was cold and damp like a shroud, the kind of night made for funerals. Lily stood at the edge of the graveyard, her face illuminated by a single yellow moon. She had come to attend the funeral of her beloved sister, Emma. The occasion was solemn and somber, though Lily couldn't help but feel a deep sense of unease. Something about the night seemed off, like she was being watched. She shivered, pulling her coat close around her shoulders. She could see the mourners gathered around the grave, the graveside service just beginning. Lily stepped forward, her heart aching. She couldn't bear the idea of losing her sister, but here she was.

She stepped forward, feeling the coolness of the grass beneath her feet. She paused, noticing something strange. It almost looked like there were more people here tonight than there should have been. Strangely dressed people whose eyes seemed to linger on her and her alone. Lily swallowed hard, her unease growing. She knew there was something sinister lurking in the shadows of the graveyard tonight. She had known her sister had been working to expose some very powerful people. People powerful enough to make her sister hide from the world for four long years before her eventual murder. The very fact that they would show their faces here, at the funeral of her sister who they had killed in an alleyway like a mongrel, was enough to make her see red. But there was nothing she could do here, where they were probably watching for any signs of recognition from her. She gathered what was left of her composure and wiped any trace of anger from her face. She would be strong for her sister and do what needed to be done. Today, she would face her grief.

It was the same dream every night; the same nightmare that had haunted her for weeks. She was standing in a dark alley, the brick walls looming around her. Rain poured from the sky, drenching her clothes and hair. But she hardly noticed, her focus solely on the figure slumped against the wall. She knew who it was without having to look. It was Emma. A sob escaped her throat as she rushed forward, her heart pounding in her chest. It was too late. Her sister was gone. She awoke with a start, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Sweat clung to her skin, her sheets damp with tears. She had to find out what happened to her sister. She had to get to the bottom of this.

It had been over a year since Emma’s death, and yet the pain was still fresh in her heart. She had been so close to her sister, and for her to be taken away so suddenly and without warning had been devastating. The people responsible for this had to pay. They were powerful men. She hadn’t realized the extent of that power until the police had ruled the death a random act of violence by unknown assailants. They had every resource to make her life her living hell, she knew. They just couldn’t be allowed to get away with killing Emma. And now, she had a lead.

She had had to hire a private investigator when it dawned on her that she couldn’t even start to know how to go about finding Emma’s killers. What was she going to do when she eventually found them? Did she have it in her to take a life, regardless of what had been done to her? Tonight, she had been contacted by the private investigator. She had a lead. A name and a place – Mr. Gray Howard, Emma’s boss. The man for whom the email that killed Emma had been made for.

The sun had already begun to set as she stepped off the plane and into the airport. Her heart raced as she felt the unfamiliar terrain beneath her feet, and she reached up to adjust the backpack on her shoulder. She knew why she was here and what she had to do.

She grabbed a taxi outside the airport and gave the driver the address she had memorized. She watched the streets pass by her window and tried to remain focused on her mission. In her mind, she imagined the moment when she would find the people respons