The Gift Issue 1

Not entirely confident that he had eluded his follower, the heretic pressed his back to a large oak. The park seemed the best place to evade his pursuer. In five minutes he could reach a safe place if he could make it beyond the pond on the northeast side. He could smell the reclamation water and hear the ducks in the distance.

In the darkness the heretic remained motionless. The leather of his glove made an audible noise on the pistol grip as he repositioned his fingers, tightened his hold, and checked the clip on his Punisher. Three rounds left. His breathing was labored but focused. He had been running for nearly 15 minutes. A quick 360 and the heretic started at a slow jog. He avoided the pavement knowing that his footfall could attract attention. After rounding the western edge of the pond he slowed to a careful walk to collect himself and survey his surroundings. He was almost out. Just 100 yards of light forest and he�d be safe again.

A flash of steel�

A whispered �thwick� hushed through the air as blade separated skin, muscle, tendon and bone. The attacker dropped from his lofty perch and landed in the soft grass in the same motion that the Heretic dropped to his knees and grasped at his severed forearm. Before a word or scream could issue forth from the lips of the assailed, he could feel the cold steel of a gun barrel on his temple. A peripheral glance confirmed his fear. His shadow was a mortificator. A silenced Nemesis pointed at him by a silent nemesis� how quaint. He couldn�t get over how cold the barrel was� fitting he thought.

The pain in his arm pulsed with each heartbeat and he smiled widely. He knew he would not divulge the location of the girl. She belonged to Semai now� completely, but the Brotherhood agent was clueless. Blind sycophant! Bested by a yes-man! How sobering�

In an instant, a wave of satisfaction came over the heretic as he accepted his inevitable death. He was up to the challenge of any vain interrogation this Mortificator had to offer. And he was ready to play the game. Maybe he could serve another purpose for the lord of deceit and throw the dog off the trial. Maybe he could lie and be convincing enough to mask the scent� he had nothing to lose.

He spoke barely above a whisper, but his words were deliberate and the Heretic could sense the disdain and frustration in his voice. �Girl� he said. The heretic knew what he wanted and he smiled again. Toying with him might be fun, he thought to himself. �What gir--?� In a flash the flat of the mortis blade smacked squarely on the cultist�s throat sending him into a coughing fit on the ground. As he recovered from the blow he smiled again, mockingly through bloodied teeth at the Mortificator.
�Girl!� the agent repeated, this time louder and angrier.
The heretic spat, cleared his throat and finally spoke, �You�ll never find her all at once� she�s�� his voice trailed off.
�She�s what?�
�She�s dead� the cut her into bits� and spread her remains throughout the city��
�Lie!�
�No, believe what you want. The truth is simple. She couldn�t handle the conversion� she went mad. A tragic loss, really. So pretty� so innocent� so frail.� He smiled again, sensing the anger welling up in his enemy. The possibility of his plan coming to fruition pleased the heretic.
The Mortificator remained silent for a while, contemplative. �You�re very convincing� but not convincing enough.� He finally said.
�Ignore the truth if you must� I care not if you believe me.�
�Do you know how to tell when someone lies, heretic? You�re still a man, you have all the faults of a man and that knowledge betrayed you.�
�You�re insane� I am of Semai� I am��
�Your pulse quickened, your carotid artery in your neck enlarged and you looked down and to the left when you spoke. You lied.�
The heretic stumbled for words, �But that�s impossible, I was telling the truth� I swear it� please you must��

It was of no use. The Mortificator knew the truth. He knew the heretic would not divulge her location. No amount of torture would reveal it either. He sheathed his blade.
�We�re done,� he said as he turned and began to walk away. The heretic could see the glint of his Punisher in the grass, still clutched by his severed hand. He paused for a moment. The Mortificator was still walking away. Another hesitation� then he quickly reached for it�

Black.

His body fell� then came the report of the sniper rifle from a great distance.

The Mortificator never turned around; he continued walking toward the street. He flicked on his communicator. �Who�s the next target, sir?�

The Seeker leaned back in his chair and looked out his 5th story window toward the park below. Smoke eked from the end of his Mephisto. He grinned and spoke sarcastically into his headset, �Haven�t you ever heard of coffee Brother Athan?�