CHAPTER 1, SHAHID.

Shahid smiled at the antics of his adult son Masud playing with the new addition to the household, an enthusiastic black and white border collie puppy named Matthew. It was a bright Saturday morning as the puppy lowered itself to the ground on all fours and focused all of its attention on the fluro pink tennis ball currently wedged between his son Masud’s cricket boot and the carpeted floor, waiting desperately for Masud to raise his foot and kick the ball down the hallway again so he could bound happily after his prize before returning the ball to Masud to repeat the fun.

Masud had grown up to look more and more like his mother each day. He had inherited her dark skin and hair and he was now a handsome dark skinned fully grown man, the lankiness of his teenage years was clearly behind him. He was staring happily at the puppy, moving the ball around with his foot, teasing the dog by asking “Ready?”

Matthew’s rear rose from the ground, the anticipation of fetching the ball had started to make his body shake, the puppy let out an impatient and impossibly cute bark and Masud finally took pity on the little dog, kicking the ball firmly down the hallway of their house, the little dog scurrying happily after the ball as fast as his little paws could carry him.

Shahid smiled as he reflected on the last twelve months of his life. Exactly eleven months previously to the day, he had shot and killed a dangerous terrorist in his home back in Afghanistan before boarding a shipping container with his wife Delara and been smuggled successfully into Australia by a group of noble smugglers in exchange for a large sum of money.

Since then he and his wife had adjusted well to living in Australia. To this day he still did not know where or how his citizenship papers or passport had come from but he was definitely appreciative of the chance at a new life in this amazing country.

He and his wife Delara had immediately enrolled themselves in English language courses and with the help of their son Masud had quickly mastered the local dialect and despite the accent neither parent would never completely lose, they had managed to integrate themselves into the Australian way of life fairly well. Shahid had found his skills as a farmer very handy in his new job at the local nursery and Delara had eventually overcome her complete fear of technology and landed a position as a data entry specialist working for a local IT firm.

He smiled as the puppy planted the tennis ball back at the feet of Masud, Matthew’s overeager enthusiasm winning him a smile from both Masud and Delara, who had heard the combination of her son’s laughter and the puppy’s excited barking and been unable to resist her curiousity, she now looked down at the eager pooch playing with her son and smiled at the little domestic scene.

The telltale twin beeps of his Samsung mobile phone on top of his fridge distracted Shahid from his family’s amusing domestic fun. Still smiling, he rose from his seat at the dining table and made his way over to the fridge, the shooting pain in his joints an immediate reminder that he was on the wrong side of fifty.

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He retrieved the mobile device and opened up the text message he had just received. He was not an expert on technology, but he knew immediately that receiving a text message from no number was not a good sign.

The contents of the message made Shahid’s heart skip a beat. The message read “Urgent. Simeon’s Storage, Seven Hills. Locker 106. Combination is 8181. 15 minutes. Take Delara, leave Masud and the rugs. A”

His face remained cheerful as he read the message twice, committing it to memory before pocketing the phone and retaking his seat at the kitchen table, the smile plastered across his face at complete odds with the inner turmoil he was feeling due to the contents of the message he had just read.

Such was the measure of the expression on his face that neither his wife or son remarked on it, both fully immersed in the happiness the little dog had brought to the moment and neither being observant enough to notice the tiny details on his face that would have given his inner thoughts away.

Finally the little dog grew tired of chasing the ball and collapsed in a heap onto a wayward green pillow that Masud had carelessly left on the floor of their lounge room. Mother and Son both stared at the dog adoringly, both family members already hooked on the little puppy, their newest family member was a popular inclusion.

Shahid forced a cheerful expression across his features and asked his wife conversationally “Dela, would you mind coming to Coles with me? I am in the mood for some chocolate.”

Delara beamed up at her husband knowing that despite his best efforts at assimiliating into Australian society, the mazes of the shopping centers in Sydney totally confounded him. She nodded in agreement replying with some Aussie slang she had heard Masud use regularly. “No worries. Let me get my coat.” She rose up and headed into their bedroom, emerging a few seconds later with her coat and the keys to their 1997 Honda Accord.

Shahid stood to leave. As he did, Masud asked his parents “Hey dad, can you pick me up some bacon for breakfast tomorrow, I think we are all out?”

Shahid smiled at his son’s rebellious request, son and wife had previously been steadfast followers of the Islamic faith but following the events of eleven months ago both of them had decided to abandon the religious text and instead follow Shahid’s example and instead try to be the best person that they could be to themselves, their family and to society rather than god. Masud’s request was pure cheek but Shahid smiled fondly at his son’s impish request, telling him “Sure, I will bring back some of that lovely Tasmanian stuff you love.”

Masud thanked him, saying “Thanks dad.”

Delara opened their front door and walked outside, handing him the keys to the car. Shahid took the keys, pressed the button on the remote unlocking the car and made his

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way to the passenger side of the car, opening the door for her and letting her in before making his way back around to the driver’s side of the car and getting in.

Shahid started the car and drove down the street. When he drove straight past the location of the Coles supermarket, Delara made no comment. Shahid drove on for another five minutes, eventually stopping at the nearby Seven Hills shopping center. Shahid parked the car and exited the vehicle, Delara following suit, her mind racing but her mouth silent.

Shahid strode inside the doors of the large shopping mall, the Saturday morning crowd relatively thick, the peak trade time of the week meant that the crowds were bustling with activity. He made his way to a shop named Simeon’s Storage, the orange neon sign above the store making it relatively easy for the two of them to find.

Simeon’s storage was essentially three aisles of hireable metal lockers all protected by numerical digital keypads. Shahid confidently strode past the clerk of the store to the very end locker in the far corner of the store and came to a stop. He checked the number of the locker and typed in the number 8181 into the digital keypad above the storage locker. The keypad made an affirmative beeping sound and then flashed green, a moment later the sound of a metallic lock disengaging could be heard.

Both of them stared into the locker. It contained four things, a typewritten note, an old mobile phone, a closed glass jar of clear liquid with a blue top and a car key.

Shahid stared at the note, it read as follows:

Walk back out the shop head left to the lifts. Take the elevator to the B3 basement level. Last row on the right as you exit. You will recognise the vehicle, use the key, check the bag. Put your phone into the jar, Take this one. Accomadation will be better than last time. A.

Shahid sucked in a deep breath and opened the glass jar. He quickly fished his phone out of his pocket and gingerly opened the glass jar and dropped the phone inside the jar. For a moment nothing happened, then the phone began to sizzle before his eyes. He ignored it, and instead took the other contents of the locker and stuffed them into the pocket of his trousers. He closed the storage locker, heard the lock re engage then turned to face the silent question his wife had posed to him with her enquiring eyes.

Shahid met his wife’s gaze evenly and quickly told her simply “Not now. Soon.” She frowned disapprovingly but followed. Shahid followed the instructions of the note, heading left out of the shop and heading down the hallway to the elevator. Once inside, he pressed the B3 button, taking the elevator to the bottom floor. After exiting the elevator, he turned right and walked to the last row.

Delara saw it before he did, her gasp of surprise alerting him to the location of the vehicle before he saw it. The bright orange Toyota Hilux ute he had not seen for eleven months sat there, clear as day in the second last parking space. They both moved to the car quickly, Shahid unlocking the passenger door to let his wife into the the ute before moving to the driver’s side of the car and letting himself in.

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On the driver’s seat was a small green backpack. Inside it was a another typewritten note, a black Tokarev pistol and five clips of ammunition for the gun. Shahid left the gun and ammunition but read the note which read simply:

24/51 Portland Street Rooty Hill. Follow the GW Highway to Rooty Hill, across from BP. An old friend awaits.

Shahid started the ute and started to drive, Delara was unable to contain her curiousity, she looked in the backpack, saw the gun and her eyes widened. She read the note and asked her husband “Is this some sort of trap?”

Shahid shook his head and answered simply “No.”

They drove out of the carpark in silence. They made their way to the Great Western Highway and followed it along to the suburb of Rooty Hill. When they reached the BP service station, they turned right onto Portland street. Shahid slowed the vehicle down as they reached the group of fairly inconspicuous red brick townhouses, the lime green block of letterboxes out the front let them know they had reached the right block of townhouses.

Shahid drove into the driveway of the block of townhouses and slowly guided the orange ute gently through the complex, not being surprised when he saw that number 24 was the last townhouse at the very back of the complex.

Shahid parked the ute in the visitor carpark space next to the unit and retrieved the pistol from the backpack, checking to make sure the gun was loaded and the safety cocked. He looked across at his wife and commanded her “Stay here. Let me check it out first.”

Delara looked at him scornfully and argued “Fat fucking chance, stupid man. I love you, wherever you go, I go.” She promptly opened the door of the ute and got out of the vehicle.

Shahid let out a weary half smile, the events of the morning had clearly taken their strain on his nerves. He grudgingly nodded and conceded quietly “Ok then, but stay behind me a few metres ok?”

Delara nodded as they made their way to the door of the small brick townhouse. A cream edged metal screen door gave way without resistance to Shahid’s attempt at opening the door, he attempted to turn the steel handle of the wooden door behind the screen door and found it unlocked also.

The door led to a small lounge room, a man was watching a large flat screen television. Shahid immediately pointed the gun at the figure, but his wife let out a small shriek of joy and ran towards the man on the couch, he stood to embrace his two former employers, accepting her embrace with unbridled enthusiasm. Shahid stared slack jawed, letting the pistol fall to his side, an unbelieving smile finding its way across his features.

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The other man in the room released Delara from the hug and looked at Shahid, offering his hand and addressing him shyly in halting English “Hello master. I have returned.”

Shahid ignored the hand and hugged his former employee to his chest, saying a single word both happily and questioningly “Mykael?!?”

Mykael answered his former boss’s unasked question simply “Bad people. Bad things.” He paused for a moment before setting his peasant face into a determined setting before adding “Mykael is here to fight, again.”

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CHAPTER 2, JOHNNY

As he stood in the middle of the large white dais in the middle of the garden, Johnny Portelli, undisputed underworld kingpin in all of Sydney, felt more nervous than he ever had in his life. The two hundred strong crowd standing in front of him on the lawn of the garden waited in absolute silence, most of them stealing glances down the other end of the aisle of the plush red carpet strip, awaiting the arrival of the lady who was currently twenty minuets late, twenty minutes of absolute hell for Johnny.

Standing next to him was his best friend Zulse, a man he had met about a year ago in a university computer science lab. Zulse, noticing the apprehensive look on his friend’s face, leaned across and whispered good naturedly in Johnny’s right ear “Can’t blame her for not showing, pretty thing like her with an old ugly bastard like you. Bet you ten grand she doesn’t show.”

Zulse had been an absolute find of the decade for Johnny. Since he had rescued Zulse from the dingy bar in the city eleven months ago, the younger man had been an extremely important member of Johnny’s team. Very soon after being rescued in the dingy bar and staying with Johnny for a few days, Johnny had found the location of one of his arch enemy Hector’s security detail. He had told Zulse this as a little test to see how the younger man would react.

Zulse did not hesitate, his first reaction was to drive straight over there, abduct the guy and deliver him to Johnny almost immediately. Johnny dealt with him on the spot right in front of Zulse who did not move to assist but did not move to stop him either.

It was another four months before Zulse took his first life for Johnny. It was a balmy Thursday evening and Johnny, Suzy, Zulse and Alice had gone for a quiet drink at George’s, an upmarket swish Italian restaurant on the water in the middle of Circular Quay. Johnny had recently purchased the restaurant and the four of them had gone there to celebrate his purchase.

While ladies were in the bathroom, a pair of beefy Rebel bikers hefting small submachine guns had seized the chance. Out of the corner of his eye Zulse had spotted the two of them approaching their table and rose to intercept them. Both bikers had opened fire, Zulse had strode towards them, absorbing the bullets with minimal impact before instinctively taking one of the weapons from the nearest biker and firing it at the second one, killing him instantly.

Johnny had watched Zulse at the time, waiting for the telltale signs of shock but had seen none, the younger man seemed to take it all in his stride. Johnny was able to organise the CCTV footage to be sufficiently edited to hide Zulse’s secret from the authorities and would have aided him should it have been needed in terms of lawyers to avoid charges, but the amount of witnesses eager to win a favour with Johnny Portelli by simply coming forward and telling the truth, that the death was self defence, meant this was not required.

Since then his loyalty was never in question, he had proven his loyalty many times over and Johnny had rewarded such loyalty with a lavish harbourside apartment, a shiny red Ferrari, a new wardrobe and a very well paid position as a security

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consultant and to Johnny’s surprise, he enjoyed the younger man’s company, the two of them often gambling silly amounts of money for nearly no reason at all.

Back in the present, Johnny turned and faced his friend, a stern look on his face clear to see. He frowned at Zulse before responding “You are on asshole. That money is mine.”

Zulse smiled and offered his hand which Johnny promptly shook firmly. Immediately after the handshake finished, a mighty hush could be heard from the crowd, distracting both men from their conversation. Across from them at the other end of the red carpet, a silver stretch Rolls Royce Phantom pulled to a stop. The chauffer exited the vehicle, prompting an immediate silence as he moved briskly to the rear passenger doors of the car.

As he stared at the approaching limousine, Johnny took a moment to remember the events of the last eleven months. Ever since the destruction of Hector and Romeo’s drug business and his recruitment of Zulse, things had gone from strength to strength for Johnny and Suzy. She had proven herself absolutely invaluable to his business, showing a raw and natural degree of cunning that outstripped his own.

One particular night a month ago stood out for him more than anything else. He had decided he had wanted her to be his wife, so he took Zulse out ring shopping, eventually choosing a lovely brilliant cut blood red diamond white gold ring that was worth more than most houses in Sydney. He then asked her for a romantic weekend away to his little holiday house in the Blue Mountains for a little getaway.

They had just made love and were still in the afterglow of their intimacy when he pulled the ring from his trouser pocket and still naked, rose from the bed, promptly got down on one knee and tried to get the words out. Suzy could not wait though, she was screaming “YES” before he could even ask, raining kisses on his face while he placed the beautiful white gold ring onto her ring finger.

As he took her in his arms and started to feel himself go hard for her again, she placed a finger across his lips, her eyes full of excitement, her voice barely a whisper, she told him she had news for him also. He looked back at her questioningly and the news burst from her, “Johnny, I am pregnant!”

Johnny’s face broke into a huge smile as he responded back quickly “Well, lets do this quickly then!”

His world changed in that instant, he thought of nothing other then providing for his fiancé and his future son. He had not decided on a name for his son yet, but he felt in his bones that his child was a boy. For Johnny, that evening had changed his life.

Johnny had never really been a man that had real friends. Fake friends and shallow friends he had dozens if not hundreds, but in Zulse and Suzy, he had found that for the first time in his life, that he had people who honestly cared about him, wanted him to succeed and he found he really wanted to share that success with both of them.

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Back in the present, he snapped himself back to the sight before him. The bridesmaid, his friend Zulse’s long girlfriend and Suzy’s cousin Alice exited the car first. She was wearing a simple but extremely elegant teal sheer bridesmaid’s dress cut from the finest silk available to man just above the knee. The dress was handmade by the Versace group and it glimmered in the late afternoon sun, her hair itself a work of art all freshly permed and done beautifully for this special event.

Johnny noticed his friend Oscar in the crowd, his eyes along with those of most other men followed the bridesmaid’s walk down the aisle as she swayed her hips and made her way along. Johnny though hardly noticed Alice walk down the aisle towards him, he only had eyes for the other passenger of the Rolls Royce, his fiancé, soon to be wife Suzy.

Johnny felt Zulse thrust something into his pocket and knew his friend was whispering some joke to him about their gamble but at that moment, ten thousand dollars won hardly interested in and his words were wasted. In fairness to Zulse, a megaphone pointed right at Johnny’s ear would not have distracted him from the sight of his bride.

As Suzy stepped shyly out of the car, the crowd turned as one to get a glimpse of her. She was wearing a custom made Versace dress, made of white interwoven white lace down to her knees that showed off Suzy’s hourglass figure, her jet black hair contrasted perfectly with the pure white strapless dress.

Suzy was an absolute vision of pure perfection and beauty. Her upturned nose and scarlett red lipstick went perfectly with her sparkling eyes as she looked past the crowd in front of her and her gaze rose from the carpet up to meet that of her soon to he husband.

As Suzy let out a nervous half smile, Johnny felt like his heart was about to absolutely burst. As she walked down the aisle towards him, he felt like every moment was in slow motion, her graceful, measured walk along the carpet felt like pure bliss to Johnny, every step she took towards him was like a heartbeat to his aching organ.

To Johnny, things were moving in slow motion, he was still staring at the vision that would be his wife when he felt Zulse’s hands roughly grip him by the shoulder and wrench his form to the ground. Even as he was falling to the ground, his eyes never left the body of his bride.

Suddenly Suzy seemed to stagger and seemed to fall, crimson splashes of blood seemed to appear from nowhere across the front of Suzy’s dress as she fell forward in her slow motion to the floor, the red of the stains exactly matching the red of the carpet, her eyes wide in surprise, her gaze still looking desperately at Johnny as she fell.

She was dead before she hit the floor. Johnny would never be the same again.

Immediately next to him, out of the corner of his vision, Johnny saw Zulse start to run towards Suzy as the crowd all around them started to rise in panic, screams and panic ruled and absolute chaos ruled as the chauffer at the other end of the red carpet

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adjusted the aim of his slick black submachine gun from bride to groom. Johnny heard three loud cracks and waited for the inevitable pain to hit him but nothing came.

Johnny watched his bride die from his vantage point on the floor of the dais as Zulse stumbled on his run to the chauffer. Unlike Suzy though, Zulse’s momentum was not slowed by being hit by the bullets, he instead reached the assassin and hit him squarely with an uppercut, sending the man sprawling and knocking the gun from his hand.

Johnny scrambled to his feet and scrambled his way over to where Suzy lay. He held her close to his chest, the lump in his throat making words all too hard, the tears in his eyes clouding his vision, the pain in his heart destroying his very soul. He knew the loss of his wife and unborn son was something he would never recover from.

Seconds passed. Zulse returned to his side, hovering uselessly next to him while he cradled the body of his dead bride, her beauty forever preserved in his mind’s eye.

Minutes passed. Police swarmed the scene, arresting the chauffer assassin and leading him into the back of a police wagon. Ordinarily Johnny would have hated this turn of events, preferring to deal with private matters himself, but the life seemed to have seeped out of Johnny as he cradled the body of his lifeless bride.

Eventually the police were able to pry Suzy’s body from his unresisting hands and he let himself be led away by Zulse. His friend spoke words of sympathy to him but his ears did not listen. He had died on the inside, and for the moment, nothing would bring him back. As Zulse guided him into the rear of Alice’s black SUV and began to drive, he felt the first stirrings of absolute and utter despair, his legs felt heavy, his heart seemed to beat heavier than normal, the lump in his throat seemed to make his breathing harder and before he knew it, his cheeks were damp from the tears that had began to cascade down his face.

He felt a lump in his pocket and his hand quickly closed around the ten thousand dollars in his pocket. A savage thought came unbidden to his mind, that the stuff in his hand had brought Suzy to his world and that it had also caused her to be ripped away. He smiled sickly at the thought before letting his eyelids droop and the pure sense of defeat overwhelm him.

A moment of clarity suddenly hit him, forcing his eyes to snap open. Only one man would be brazen enough to attempt to murder him and his bride at his own wedding. A single man in the whole world. He felt a surge of blinding hatred flow through his brain, a single unspoken word forced its way into his brain giving it a focus for his new found hatred and passion.

Hector.

He instantly knew what his purpose in life would be, the thing he would pursue with the full strength of all his formidable resources, motivation and undying hatred.

Revenge for his wife, and for his son.

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CHAPTER 3, ROBYN

Robyn tensed as she sat in the drivers seat of her sleek white Madza RX7, the car seemingly being held back by an invisible forcefield held in place by the red light at the makeshift illegal drag strip she often frequented. The car’s Rotary engine reverberated with power as her right foot threaded the accelerator pedal, keeping the all important revs per minute hovering at about 3500, the ideal number of cycles for the car to launch.

She risked a glance at the window of the vehicle next to her, a black Ford Mustang 500. The driver of the other vehicle was a seventeen year old Korean drag racing prodigy nicknamed “Icey Sung.” The youngster had built up an online following due to the fact that he seemingly did not make a mistake. He had nerves of ice and had not yet lost an official drag race, streamers from across the world had followed his progress and gambled on him heavily to win, most of those on the illegal darknet gambling site VDRAG.

Above them and in front of them in regular intervals across the track, large steel frames looking a lot like a set of soccer goalposts marked the track, each with the painted aqua logo of VDRAG along with CCTV cameras setup on top of them so that web streamers across the world could watch and gamble on the results of the race, these illegal gambling kings of the dark net had finally infiltrated Sydney’s underground racing scene via hefty bribes to the various track organisers who had seen no reason not to take the fat payoffs from the VDRAG organisations seemingly endless resource pool.

She had directly agreed on the bet of five thousand with the younger man before the race and another five thousand on the online where she was getting odds of 4 to 1, so she stood to make a tidy profit if she could pull this victory off, this was her home track and she was damned if she was going to let some seventeen child take her pride on her home track. She shuddered to think of the loss of ten thousand dollars would do to her savings, but this was not the time to think of that, ever since her fiancé Arutha had gone missing six months ago she knew that she had chased riskier and riskier highs to distract her from the despair she felt on the inside.

She glanced across at the other driver but could not make out his facial expression due to the tinted windows of the other vehicle so she instead focused on the stolen traffic lights in front of her car, waiting impatiently for them to go from red to green.

Robyn knew that to take the other man’s five thousand dollars she had just bet she would have to establish a lead early, her smaller and lighter RX7 would take off quicker than the larger and heavier Ford but the other car would come home stronger towards the end of the race. The knowledge made her nervous and she was positively chafing for the light in front of them to go from red to green, her foot seemingly aching holding the clutch pedal in.

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Mercifully for Robyn’s left foot, the light went green and both cars, released from their invisible restraints, launched forward in a screaming thrust of acceleration. Her gear change from first to second was slick, the rev cycles of the engine perfectly maintained and the car’s forward aggressive impetus was a roaring growl in the night.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the other vehicle was absolutely neck and neck with her and that she was barely half a bumper ahead, the other driver also having a near perfect takeoff. She willed her car forward, her gear change between second and third again right on point, the car’s continued forward momentum unchecked as the electronic whine of the RX7’s turbo getting louder as her car reached the halfway point in the race, the other vehicle still right alongside her not having lost an inch despite her near perfect start to the race.

Adrenaline surged through Robyn’s veins as the RX7 surged forward into what Robyn knew would be her last gear change, from third to fourth, the car rocketing along at breakneck speed, she knew she had so far completed a perfect drag race but despite this, the Mustang was still barely half a bumper behind her, the other driver was absolutely on point with his driving and she knew the bigger car would start to pull away from this point on in the race unless the driver made a mistake, the bigger Ford’s engine was stronger towards the end of the drag than her smaller, lighter RX7.

At that point she knew she had to take a risk to win, that the other car would gradually pull away from the RX7 from here, so she sucked in a quick breath of air into her lungs, gripped the steering wheel tight enough to make her knuckles go white and pressed a small black plastic button she had installed at the top rear of her steering wheel.

The button sent an electronic signal through to a valve controlling the flow of a large metallic bottle of nitrous oxide seated immediately behind the passenger seat of her car. The nitrous oxide gas flowed immediately through to her exhaust, shooting wild looking flames out of the rear of the exhaust of the RX7, thrusting her forward as if a giant truck had just crashed into her from behind, her car shot clear of the Mustang next to her and she skilfully swerved her vehicle across from her lane into his.

In the regulated sport of drag racing this move she had just done was quite illegal, crossing into your opponent’s lane was instant disqualification. In the illegal races like the one she was in now however, the only rule was that the person guilty of making contact was disqualified, a rule strictly enforced by the operator, a very large ebony skinned man named Veejay who enforced this rule extremely seriously.

Robyn had banked on her younger opponent being unaware of this and her gamble paid off, the other vehicle tried unsuccessfully to use his car’s larger engine to manouver past her but did not risk his own nitrous oxide tank fearing it would send his vehicle colliding with hers which was instant forfeiture.

As she flashed past the white painted line on the road that marked the finish still in front of the other vehicle, she let out a whoop of triumph and applied the brake, slowing down and letting the Mustang snarl off angrily into the distance of the night.

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She watched it disappear into the distance but she smiled anyway, she knew that the race organiser Veejay would already have the cash of the other driver ready for her to collect when she made her way back to the little concrete ex landscapers hut that currently served as a marshalling area and pickup point for the winning drivers. She knew that the big man would be pleased to see her after she had just humiliated the Korean, she wondered if he had even placed some money on her to win himself on the darknet, something she suspected he may have.

At the end of the street, she made a right and then another right and drove sedately along a smaller road that ran parallel to the drag strip she had just run along. She eventually reached the end of the road and turned back to the carpark parking her vehicle at the front of the lot.

As she parked and exited the car, she felt herself get lifted up on the ground by two of her best friends, Ryu and Zyrkan, with Oscar, trailing along slightly behind them, a large smile splashed across his face.

Ryu was a slender Japanese man who she had known for several years as a fellow drag racer but only really got to know during the events of eleven months ago. She had met the other two at that time too, Zyrkan was a former special forces soldier that had travelled to Afghanistan to rescue their client Masud’s parents while Masud himself, Ryu, Oscar and their former leader, Arutha had ventured into Sydney’s underground rail system to engage a pair of armed terrorists trying to collapse half of Sydney.

She had fallen in love with Arutha and they had quickly sold their respective houses and moved in together, getting engaged after a whirlwind three months, often spending time with Arutha’s close friends Oscar, Ryu and Zyrkan. Those three months and the three after them were the best in Robyn’s life, she had never been so happy or had so many close friends as she did in that time.

Then Arutha simply disappeared. At first she thought he had wanted to break up from her and that she had done something wrong, but when she reached out to his family they did not know where he was either so she had eventually reached out to their friends, but none of them had any idea where he had disappeared too either, they were all just as in the dark as she was.

She had spent the next month frantically going through his things at home along with spending all of her free time on the phone to his employers, the secretive Australian Security and Intelligence Organisation, ASIO. She got absolutely no traction from them, they simply denied he had ever been an employee of ASIO despite her repeated phone calls and site visits, she had hit a brick wall. She pressed her ex military father Terry into reaching out to his military buddies also, but every avenue led to ASIO and they seemed to be a brick wall she could not penetrate.

Eventually, with no other avenues to pursue, she had sold their house and moved back in with her father Terry who was very glad to have her back living under his roof.

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With Arutha disappearing, the others in their friendship circle had folded closer around her and their regular Tuesday jaunts to watch either her or Ryu race along the drag strip were never missed by any of their group.

Ryu and Zyrkan had appeared as if from nowhere and hoisted her onto their shoulders and were shouting her name triumphantly, she laughed and held her arms up into the air as they carried her towards the landscapers hut, the happy group all smiles as they made their way to her winnings inside the hut.

A single incandescent light blub illuminated the doorway of the inside of the small concrete hut. Ryu and Zyrkan eventually lowered her to the ground in front of the doorway and watched as she walked inside to collect, the men all respecting Veejay’s unwritten rule of winners of races only being able to enter the hut to collect their cash.

Veejay himself was inside the little hut when she entered. As she entered, a huge pearly white smile flashed across his dark features as he rose to embrace her, his huge muscled form radiating obvious affection for her bringing a smile once again to her face. She accepted his embrace happily before he released her and gestured for her to sit down on the old black plastic chairs in the hut, he moved his considerable bulk over to the other side and plonked himself down on his side of the desk as she followed his example.

Veejay leaned over the desk towards her, smiling and whispering confidentially to her “I have a little secret to share with you.”

Robyn knew what was coming but she was still helpless to prevent his infectious smile spreading to her own lips as he continued “I put twenty grand on you on the darknet, the stupid Korean shitheads lapped it up, they offered me eight to one. If you wanna forfeit your winnings tonight, ill give you a quarter of my winnings when it clears. Your choice. ”

Maths had never been Robyn’s strong suit, but she still worked out that he was offering her forty thousand dollars in two weeks time if she was prepared to forego the immediate ten thousand cash she was entitled to right now. She knew Veejay often splurged on the VDRAG site whenever he thought the odds were there to exploit and she knew his word of credit was iron clad so she stood up, beamed back at him, offered him her hand and said “Transferring it to me when it clears will be awesome.” He accepted her handshake to seal the deal then promptly ran outside to rejoin her crew who were all blatantly failing at trying to pretend they had not been eavesdropping to the whole conversation inside the hut.

As she rejoined them as they started to head back as a group towards the two vehicles they had come in, Robyn’s RX7 and her missing fiancé Arutha’s dark Grey Subaru Liberty. As the group chattered happily about the race and Robyn’s win and reached the vehicles, she felt a fierce longing to hug her missing fiancé, the emotion was so sudden and overwhelming that it seemed to hit her in a wave of sadness.

As the group arrived at the cars, Oscar seemed to notice Robyn’s whole body language had changed considerably since her victory and he guessed correctly the

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reason why. He asked Ryu “Hey Ry, do you mind driving the RX7 back to Cheezels?”

The momentary look of surprise on Ryu’s face was clear, he knew Robyn never let anyone drive her precious RX7 but he recovered quickly before looking back at Oscar and replying “Sure thing mate.”

To Ryu’s surprise, Robyn pulled the keys out of her handbag and handed them to him without another word. Ryu promptly unlocked the car, got inside the RX7 and started the engine before winding down the window and telling them “Ok guys, see you at Cheezels, first round on the table waitin for ya!” He promptly drove off, leaving the other three standing around the Liberty.

Zyrkan had sensed the mood between the other two change, he looked at Robyn sympathetically and asked “You miss him don’t you Rob?”

Robyn looked sadly at the ex soldier’s face, her eyes giving him immediate confirmation before she even spoke “I do. So much.” She paused for a moment before adding emotionally “It’s so fucked. I just know ASIO knows where he is. They have done something or hiding him or have him locked away somewhere. I can just feel it.”

Oscar agreed “You are probably right Rob. But we just don’t know.”

Zyrkan steered the conversation “How about we discuss this at Cheezels yeah?”

Oscar detected something unusual in his friend’s voice but thought it best to roll with him for the moment, agreeing with “Ok Zyrk, lets go, the beer is a callin.”

As Oscar drove, Zyrkan asked him “So how was Johnny Portelli’s wedding last night?”

Oscar responded dryly “Marvellous. Some fuckhead killed a limo driver, took his place and shot the bride halfway down the red carpet.”

Zyrkan’s jaw dropped “You are kidding. Is she ok?”

Oscar shook his head sadly “She was dead before she hit the floor. Poor thing.”

Robyn sympathised “That poor girl. And poor Johnny. He might be an ass but noone deserves that.”

The rest of drive to their favourite watering hole was silent and mercifully quick, the mood in the vehicle quite flat.

True to his word, Ryu had three beers and a gin and tonic waiting at their regular table at Cheezels. Oscar led Robyn and Zyrkan over to where Ryu sat, all four picking up their respective drinks and having a small sip.

Ryu sensed the other mood of the other three, he asked empathetically “Missing Roofa Rob?”

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Robyn nodded and affirmed sadly “Yeah.”

Ryu admitted “Me too.”

Oscar tried to crack a lame joke “You just miss him because there are no gigs lined up.”

Ryu joked sadly “There is that…”

Robyn had noticed that Zyrkan, usually the life of the party, was unusually silent, she addressed him, asking “Zyrk, you ok?”

While the others were talking, Zyrkan was gritting his teeth. He answered Robyn, addressing the group in a quiet but forceful voice “No I am not. I’m pissed. Real pissed. And I want answers. I’m sick of being lied to by ASIO who say he never existed I owe him, owe him big, he got me back on track, and I’m going to fucking find him, rules be damned.”

Ryu was in. “What can we do?”

Oscar asked quickly “What do you know Zyrk?”

Zyrkan answered him “Maybe nuthin, but maybe something.”

Robyn asked impatiently “Spit it out Zyrk, what have you got?”

Zyrkan had their attention, the other three were all staring at him expectantly. He looked at them all individually, seeing determination and hope in their eyes and he hoped he would not let them down with the germ of an idea that had formed in his brain.

He took a determined sip of beer and swallowed before beginning “Do you guys remember that ASIO wanker Julian?”

The other three agreed and nodded in unison, impatiently waiting for Zyrkan to continue.

Zyrkan paused for a second before admitting in a whisper “I know where his kid plays soccer. I’ve seen the fuck on the phone while his kid plays. I think we can use that and maybe consider kidnapping him to get some answers out of that cocksucker.”

For the first time in months, Robyn felt hope. She asked the group immediately “I’m in. When do we start?”

Oscar put his hand on her shoulder, restraining her idea quickly “Rob, you cannot be involved. You aren’t a criminal.”

Ryu agreed “Kidnapping an ASIO agent could mean a long prison stretch. We can’t let you be involved.”

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Robyn objected determinedly, struggling to keep her voice to a whisper “Shut it guys, you can’t keep me out. I’m already an accessory, I know about the plan now and don’t you all forget I’m already a fucking murderer, I shot that assassin in cold blood, I’m already more of a criminal than any of you are, so if any of you think you are going to keep me from grabbing that ASIO dickhead you have another thing coming, Ill do it alone if I need to be.” She paused and took a breath before demanding them, still in a powerful whisper “I am doing this. Are you with me or not?”

Robyn watched the indecision amongst the men across from her. Ryu wavered first, he stole a glance across at Zyrkan and then at Oscar. Oscar looked from Ryu to Zyrkan and then to Robyn and then back to Zyrkan, seemingly waiting for someone else to speak, leadership and decision making was not his speciality and he knew this, he instead waited for someone else to take the lead on something as important as this.

It wasn’t Zyrkan’s either, he knew his own limitations and knew that the decision making and planning in their group was usually Arutha’s domain and since he was currently missing he knew the other two were looking to him.

The knowledge weighed on him heavily as he fixed his eyes on the determined woman sitting across from him. He couldn’t help but draw comparisons between her and Arutha, the two of them had the same steely gaze, the same self confidence, the same natural aura of command that officers the world over all would beg to have and lastly, the most important attribute, he knew that if it came to it, she would do whatever needed to be done in order to get back the man she loved.

His decision made, he closed his eyes for a moment before opening them and admitting defeat, saying softly “Ok, I can see this is happening with or without us. We are with you, Roofa would kill us if you tried to go it alone.”

Ryu and Oscar both sensed Robyn’s moral victory, both looked at her expectantly, hanging onto her every word.

Robyn tried not to let the surprise show on her face. She had fully expected the three men around her to put up more of a fight but in that instant she realised they lacked a leader and that her determined speech had just elected her to that position. Furthermore, she realised that they each wanted to have their friend restored to them but that they each lacked the conviction to do anything about it without cohesive leadership they desperately wanted her to have.

She stood up in front of them, looking at them each individually before addressing them forcefully “This is happening. This Saturday.”

All three listened eagerly as she outlined her plan. When she had finished, Oscar nodded with respect and added “Well fuck me. It might just work.”

Robyn smiled.

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CHAPTER 4, ALI

Ali parked his cream Nissan Navarra ute in the underground carpark at his place of work, Applause Communications, a small telco company in North Sydney. Today was a significant day for Ali because it was his last day at Applause but because he disliked goodbyes, he had not actually told anyone this fact. He knew that if he had made the fact known his staff would have made a big fuss of him so he chose not to do so and instead just not show up.

Ali was a tall man of Lebanese descent in his early thirties, he had a very short black hair that he often shaved to the dome, dark smiling eyes and a build that indicated he maybe enjoyed too much of his mother’s awesome Lebanese cooking. Despite that though, he enjoyed his sports, he considered himself a decent tennis player, was fairly agile and enjoyed playing basketball with his friends most Thursday nights. Like most Lebanese born Australians, he was far more Australian than Lebanese, his profiency of speaking Lebanese was rusty where his English was Australian native, his faith in Islam was moderate but realistic and his friends would have described him as intelligent if a little lazy.

He certainly felt lazy that Wednesday morning as he exited his ute and took the company lift up to the first floor. It was nine thirty am as he strolled into the office, greeting a few people on the way in with a wave and a smile. As he plonked himself into his chair, the man he had worked beside for the last month, his replacement Oscar, asked him with just a hint of friendly sarcasm “Wow, you are here so early today mate, you feeling ok?”

Ali grinned back at Oscar, the reason the other man had made the quip was the last couple of weeks Ali had tended to turn up whenever he felt like rather than the official hours he was meant to work, eight thirty through to five being the official hours. Ali joked back “You must think I’m so lazy, you have totally seen the worst of me!”

Oscar chuckled as he focused back on his work, he sympathised with Ali because he knew what the other man was going through, the last couple of weeks of a job was hard to push through, he had basically passed on the knowledge Oscar needed already and was literally just going through the motions.

The last day for Ali than he thought it would be, he enjoyed the company of his colleagues and had also enjoyed talking to his replacement Oscar, but he just needed a change to the routine, needed something new. Money was not a serious issue for him, he had managed to save a fair sum while earning a decent salary and living with his parents rent free so his plans were essentially to be a bum for a couple of weeks, enjoy the break and then to have a bit of a think about what he wanted in life.

Unlike the other days, his last day seemed to pass quickly for him. Four thirty pm came around quickly. He considered briefly letting Oscar know that today was indeed his last day but decided against it, instead standing up from his desk, taking a wistful look around at the building and making his way past Oscar, wishing the other man a pleasant evening as he walked past. Oscar caught the tone in his voice but did not reply, knowing what it means but decided to keep silent.

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As Ali made his way back to the carpark, he wondered briefly if he was making a mistake. He enjoyed his work and had enjoyed working alongside Oscar and he recently had had some rather expensive mechanical problems with his ute but his legs seemed to have a mind of their own and he found himself at the elevator to the carpark before he knew it.

He let out a wry but sad smile as he pressed the button, the lift came and he let it take him to the basement. At the basement, he walked over to his ute, got inside and drove to the exit of the carpark. As he pressed the buzzer to exit for carpark for the last time, he silently whispered “Farewell Applause. You have been good. Maybe I’ll see you again one day.” With that, he drove out of the carpark and back to his home in Granville.

His parents were away for the weekend so Ali had the place to himself. His parents owned a large two storey house in Granville, a suburb in Sydneys west. He thought he might celebrate his first night of unemployment with a bowl of ice cream and a movie in bed. He picked himself a thriller, headed upstairs into his bedroom and enjoyed his movie, falling asleep soon afterwards.

A strange noise disturbed Ali from deep sleep. He slowly rolled out of bed very disorientated due to a mixture of the pitch black of midnight and from disturbed from the deep recess of sleep. When his vision finally cleared, the sight immediately in front of him caused him to question whether he was still awake or asleep.

Standing immediately in front of him was male dwarf, 2 foot tall with tree green hair wearing a smart black suit, crisp white shirt and smart dress shoes. The dwarf seemed to be staring at him like he was a complete idiot, he wore a nonplussed look on his face as he stared up at Ali and told him in a sarcastic voice “Might want to look behind you.”

Ali turned around quickly just in time to see another regular sized man about five feet five in height wearing a black tracksuit and balaclava swing a crowbar at his head. Ali had just enough time to sway out of the way of the crowbar as the metal tool crashed into his television, embedding itself into the electronic underbelly of the wrecked appliance and becoming stuck on the frame of the television.

Ali was not a violent man but he knew he needed to counterattack so he threw a wild haymaker punch at the assailant, landing a glancing blow on the forehead of the smaller man making him lose his balance and stagger back the way he came. The man then seemed to go into a full retreat, the advantage of surprise along with his weapon lost, he turned and ran headlong back down the hallway of Ali’s house.

Ali, still groggy from sleep, blindly gave chase, following the other man down his hallway. He rounded the corner of the hallway of the house just in time to see the other man run straight out of an unlocked window above the couch next to his front door, answering his unasked question of how the other man gained entry to the house. By the time Ali had made his way down the stairs the other man had vanished into the night.

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Ali stared into the night outside but saw and heard nothing, the would be thief was smaller and faster than he was and there was no sign of him. He strained his ears in vain to listen for a sign of the thief but it was a wasted gesture, after a few seconds he felt his heartbeat start to slow and he instead stopped to inspect the damage to the window.

The window has been levered from the outside in. To Ali it looked like the window had not been closed properly and the thief had just wrenched it open from the outside, probably with the crowbar still upstairs that was embedded in his television. The thought of the crowbar reminded him that the dwarf was probably still in his bedroom so he locked the window, checking to make sure it was fully in the locked position and then bounded back upstairs and prepared to confront the small intruder.

As Ali reached his bedroom door, he looked inside but the dwarf was not there. He quickly ran around to all the other rooms in the house, but could not see any other sign of the dwarf. He gave up and retreated back to his bedroom. The dwarf was sitting on the end of his bed, seemingly waiting for him to return, completely unafraid and unworried of him.

Ali stared at the intruder and demanded the obvious “Who are you? Why are you here? What do you want?”

The dwarf looked at him with an amused look on his face, responding to Ali in a belittling tone as if talking to a naughty schoolboy “My name is Zayne, I’m here to keep you alive you fucking clown.” The dwarf paused for a moment before taunting “Any more idiotic questions?”

Ali stepped towards the dwarf, menace in his eyes asking brusquely “Tell me why the fuck I shouldn’t punch you in the face, right now?”

Zayne grinned a big shit eating grin at Ali, quickly letting a throaty laugh rip through his mouth. He followed this laugh up with another taunt at Ali “Go on then tough guy. Show me what you got.”

Ali strode determinedly to the smaller man, reaching out to Zayne and attempted to grab the dwarf by the collar of his shirt. What happened though stunned him to the core.

As he reached out to grab the dwarf, his hand went clear through Zayne as if the man was made of air. The look of pure shock on his face made the dwarf laugh another of his throaty roars as Ali tried to move his hand back and forth across the form of the dwarf, the nerve ends in his fingers touching nothing but air despite what his eyes were telling him should happen.

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