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The Mercenary and the Detective

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Synopsis : In a world of action and supernatural secrets, mercenary Max, endowed with extraordinary powers, finds himself on a journey of redemption and revenge after surviving an explosion. As he struggles to control his gifts, he finds himself involved with detective Ruth, who is determined to unravel the mysteries surrounding his existence. When Ruth and Max meet for the first time, the detective is on a mission to catch the terrorists. She is almost killed by the terrorists. And Max saves her. When she sees only Max's eyes, she tries to find out who the mysterious man is who saved her.

1 The sacrifice

Maxwell Williams, Major. 2020

The Sacrifice

Chaos dominated the scene. My platoon stood tall amidst the ravages of war. We are on a mission, kill all our Russian enemies.

The deafening noise and gunfire echoed everywhere. Under my command, we faced the Russians, every step calculated towards victory.

“Let's move forward carefully,” I told them as they followed me in line. We continued downhill toward the Russians. As we advanced, I noticed something strange. Our enemies had disappeared. They were no longer near their base. Which confused me even more. I knew there was another team out there, the question was, where were they?

I quickly ordered them to hide, keeping everyone on their toes.

“Get down, let's hide for now,” I tell them all, then crouch down and reload my gun. I say this to Thaddeus, one of the soldiers.

“Stand guard, me and the others will take a look.” Thaddeus nodded and adjusted his weapon, turning around, looking for any movement from our enemy, and protecting the rear. If I heard anything, Thaddeus would alert me to any threat.

That strange absence of enemies awakened my instinct to investigate. So I moved forward with the other soldiers.

“Let's go that way, and carefully. Stay alert,” I said to everyone.

We kept looking sideways, wielding our weapons. Watching for any movement. But it was very quiet, and I didn't understand what was going on.

I tried to use my skills to listen carefully to see if there was anything out of the ordinary.

When I focused on the sounds of the place. I could hear the breathing of all my friends. Every beat of their hearts revealed determination and courage. As I concentrated more, I heard a high-pitched shout.

“Sir, take cover, there's a bomb coming.” I looked at Thaddeus, and he pointed ahead of us. A bomb on a collision course with us.

My eyes widened, and I tried to stay calm.

There was no time to run. We had to try to hide.

Without hesitation, in an act of pure instinct, I pulled my companions aside and shouted desperate orders, shielding them from the impending impact.

A blinding explosion filled the field, followed by an overwhelming heat. I was thrown among the rubble and the charred bodies of my comrades. The bomb had annihilated everyone but me, surprisingly.

Despite blurred vision and ringing in my ears, I struggled to free myself from the rubble. As I looked at a fallen soldier, a mixture of sadness and determination filled my being.

“How am I still alive?”, I said to myself, looking at the wreckage covering my hips and legs. I was trapped, and everyone with me minutes before was dead.

My legs felt numb, and my face hurt. Everything was burning, I could smell the strong odor. The bomb had burned me, and my heart was still struggling not to die.

I could hardly see well. I couldn't hear well, and little by little I felt my breathing slowing down.

Alone, wounded, and dazed, a torrent of emotions flooded me. However, one thought echoed in my mind: the responsibility to live in the memory of those who sacrificed themselves.

Hours later, as I regained consciousness, I longed for death, my torn body yearning for an end. “I can't get up,” I lamented as I clutched the pistol my father had given me. The only pistol that had remained with me in the face of the bomb. I tried to hold it to my chest. My hands felt weak. I had no strength left. It was the end of me.

Hours passed, and it got dark. I had lost count of how many times I had passed out and woken up again. It was like a nightmare. The scene of war was in front of me, and I could do nothing about it.

In the darkness, a man approached, praying for the end of that war scene. Surprised to see me move, he, a Russian, helped me and took me to his humble home. He improvised an apple with pieces of wood he had found during the war.

''Hold on, I will take care of your wounds.'' He hurried me to his house. And I closed my eyes, trying not to think about the pain.

After weeks of recovery, I thanked the gentleman who had helped me. “Thank you for everything.'' I didn't know what else to say to him. The man, whose name was Olav, knew that I was an English soldier. I would be wanted by the Russians if they found me, so he helped me find a place where. I could sleep without anyone finding me. I accepted with enormous gratitude and set off in disguise among the Russians. Living in hiding. I struggled to return home but was discouraged to learn that I had been declared dead. I heard my name mentioned in a news report, and I had no reason to go back now.

As I stole food and looked for a way out, anger took hold of me. The loss of my friends in the war, the impossibility of returning home—it all consumed me.

2 Trying to catch the killers.

Ruth Sterling, 2023–present day.

I was trying to catch the killers.

Two years had passed since the beginning of this relentless search. The sun was streaming through the windows of my office, painting the room in shades of orange and dark shadows. I, Ruth Sterling, a fearless detective with the New Orleans Police Department, found myself immersed in a sinister and harrowing puzzle: the brutal murders committed by Russian terrorists. Alongside my partner, Eva, I faced the frantic search for the next target.

The phone rang, breaking the heavy silence in the room. I answered it, listening to the reports of the latest crimes: entire families brutally slaughtered. My heart raced, feeling the pressure of recent events. The case I was trying to solve had not yet succeeded in finding the culprit. My boss was direct: “You and your partner are in charge of catching these bastards, Miss Sterling. I want answers, and fast.”

“Okay, boss,


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