A BROTHERS REVENGE

A man holding a gun in an alley and yelling

Author's Note: This is a work of fiction

The Prisoner

"You can do to me anything, but don't kill me," Gerard was pleading to his captors, as the most senior officer in the base who had just been captured by one of the most dreaded terrorist groups. They all laughed hard with spittle flying about from some of them, and others even rolled on the ground with glee, mocking and humiliating him. They videoed him getting undressed and naked while they whipped him. "So you can beg, eh?" one of the terrorists was laughing while using a stick to hit his balls.

Gerard moaned in pain but could do nothing. He prayed his torment would end and he could rest from such humiliation. He was sad knowing his parents' hearts would be broken if they saw this video of him, but he had no regret in serving his country to bring peace and harmony to the world. He grunted when someone hit him at the back of his leg as he fell. Breathing hard, he looked at his captors with defiance. "I can never beg for my life," he told them. "Put it in that record of yours that I never begged, and you will be served in your own time. I'm only trying to help you people from what will happen if you kill me. Humiliating me is one thing, but killing me will get you what you never bargained for."

"Huh, did you hear that?" The leader laughed, slapping his leg with mirth. "Oh, so you are saying we will get served in our own time?"

Gerard kept silent, knowing he would get nothing from him no matter what he said. They would kill him; he could see it in their eyes. The death of his countrymen around him was a testament to his ending.

"Get him kneeling!" snarled the leader. "And you there with the camera, make sure you record everything and make no mistake. I want my face and every one of you here in the feed of that video so the world will know who was responsible for this defeat of the rabble they call a force. This is just the beginning."

The Terrorist Leader Speaks

Gerard was manhandled and forcefully kneeled at the front while the leader of the terror group stood behind him with the rest of his gang members arrayed at his back. He looked to the cameraman, who nodded to indicate everything was set with a thumbs up.

"Today," he began, "makes a milestone in the struggle for our independence and sovereignty from foreign invaders and those who put their noses where they're not needed. We will not sit and fold our hands while our resources are carted away under the pretense of a few." He paused, and a crooked smile appeared on his face which he savored, hoping it would irritate those who were to watch the video feed. He placed a large hand on top of Gerard's head and cupped a fistful which he squeezed, making Gerard spasm with pain. He laughed and snarled, enjoying his power over his prisoner; causing so much pain was like music to him.

He looked around and continued, "This worm is part of those who have been causing trouble to our country, and I will show the world an example of what awaits anyone who is so foolish to come here again. They will know we will never relent on our efforts to rid the world of their likes." And with that, he slit Gerard's throat and, to make it dramatic, he beheaded him, while Gerard's body spasmed on the ground until it lay still. And with that, the video was ended.

The Other Brother

Williams was tired of killing people for the government. He had been a killer since he was sixteen. How it started he couldn't remember, but he knew it was too much and he believed it was time to retire from such gruesome work. Killing the woman wasn't easy; he figured he was growing soft because he hadn't felt in such a way before. What happened he couldn't tell, but the deed had to be done.

He was in a foul mood driving back home when his phone beeped. He fished it out and, seeing it was a video, he put it back in his pocket. He couldn't be driving and watching, which soured his mood more. Who could send him a video? Anyway, he planned to check it out as soon as he got home.

When he reached home, he saw Rebecca waiting for him and everything he was worried about went out of his mind. He felt his member getting hard and he couldn't help remembering how she handled him; oh man, he needed that again to reduce the tension of his work. "There is no time for any pleasantries, Rebecca," he told her with a hint of a smile. "Please, let us get to business. We can talk later."

That was how he missed the video message until the next day when his phone rang while he was trying to get more of Rebecca. He checked, and it was his mum. He swore and answered. "Good morning, mum. What is the meaning of this early morning call, huh? I'm about to get busy."

"Will!" his mum exclaimed. "Oh, Will!" And she started crying.

"Mum, what is wrong?"

"Will, it is your brother."

"Come on, Gerard is fine. We talked last weekend and this is Wednesday."

"Have you seen the video messages?"

"No, mum."

"Well, check it." And she cried more.

Williams opened the message and watched the video of how his brother was humiliated and killed. He was surprised to see tears in his eyes even after all the lives he had taken. "What is it?" Rebecca asked him.

 The Hunt Begin

"Get out, please. This is no time for anything. Get out, and fast!" He called his mum. "They will pay," he vowed. And then he cut the call.

He started packing, taking things he would need for the journey. He made arrangements for a false passport and a forged paper that made him enter the country as a mercenary looking for work. An informant told him a bar where he could get a head start, and Williams went there as soon as he landed in the country. He didn't want to be there long because he had to hurry so he could get to them as fast as lightning.

He went to the bar and figured he saw a guy who looked like one of his brother's killers. He was not sure, so he had to kidnap him when the guy went to the restroom to relieve himself.

"I figure I saw you in a video while having a guy's head cut off."

"Who are you? Better let me go if you know what is good for you."

"Of course, I will let you go, but first, I want to know: where is your leader?"

The man laughed. "You fool, do you want to be killed?"

Williams was getting bored, so he hit the man on the bridge of his nose, breaking it. When the man opened his mouth to scream, Williams stuffed his socks into his mouth. "Are we understanding each other now?" he asked. The man nodded.

"Good. Now before we get started, what is your name?" he asked. "And if you scream, you will regret it."

"Jaba."

"Now, Jaba, I will ask you a question and you will answer. If you delay, a part of your body will be cut off for emphasis." He used a pocket knife to tap at Jaba's ear, and he did that. While Jaba was moaning in pain, he then used the knife like a pen, tracing a line along Jaba's body to make him see how serious he was. "Jaba, who is your leader?"

"His name is Fakal."

"Any family?"

"Two sons and a wife."

"Where can I get his sons?"

"I don't know."

"Seems like you don't understand me." And with that, he pricked Jaba's left thumb and index finger. Jaba muffled his screams, fearing for the worst.

"Where can I get them?"

"At the Whistler bar."

"Now, that is not so hard, is it?"

"No."

"Good boy. So, what should I do with you?"

"Please, I have a family."

Fakal's Sons

"Really?" And he punched him in his temple to knock him out. He then used the cuffs he had with him to handcuff him, and then he hid his body. He left him there and went to the Whistler bar. He figured the sons would be popular and could be identified easily.

He was blocked at the entrance by two hefty guards. He never slowed his stride as he punched one in the throat and stabbed the other in the neck. Without looking at his handwork, he entered the bar. He noticed two more guards coming at him and slid under the punch of the lead guard; he was amazed at the air that passed over his head. He figured he would have died if that punch had connected with his head.

As he slid, he brought out his Smith & Wesson nine-millimeter and at the same time attached his silencer. He shot the second guard in the leg, turned in catlike agility, and shot the first guard in his right hand, making him drop the gun he was aiming at his head. All this happened in a heartbeat. He turned and noticed the two guys sitting at the far end of the bar. He never slowed down as he walked toward them, and when he was within a few meters, he shot one of the sons in the head and turned to the other. "Your life or your father's life. Choose one."

Abdul Fakal was stunned at what he just witnessed. He never thought he would be at the end of violence considering who his father was and the protection he provided. He thought people were so afraid of his father that no one could dare offend him. How wrong he was, seeing how Umar was killed in an eye-blink. He turned to the man pointing a gun at him. "My father."

"Good boy. Now take me to him, and if you make one wrong move, your head will be blown with a nice round hole. Is that understandable?"

"Yes," Abdul nodded.

And so he took Williams to his car waiting at the back. As soon as the driver came out to open the door, Williams shot him in the leg twice and dragged Abdul to the driver's seat while he sat behind him. "Now, drive."

"Who are you?" Abdul found his courage after seeing he was still alive.

"I'm a nightmare, and your father crossed my path."

"You should know he has a lot of men in his camp. It will be difficult to get to him, and you may even die attempting to reach him." At this, Williams laughed.

"What is funny?"

"See, kid, your dad made a mistake killing my brother in that video feed he released a few days ago. And why I laugh is to thank my luck, because all those in the video will be there. And for your information, I have single-handedly destroyed fifteen terrorist bases, so your father's own is just child's play."

Abdul was now afraid. He remembered a conversation his father was having with his generals about how their bases had been overrun and no one knew who was responsible, which led to them destroying the base and killing that soldier. He swallowed hard and was surprised to see his lips were dry. He wet his lips as best he could and wondered what would happen to him. "Will you kill me, too?"

"While coming to your country, I planned to kill everyone associated with Fakal. It seems it depends on you."

"How?" Abdul asked. They had been driving for close to three hours now, following a desert road with mountains surrounding them.

"Well, it is simple. You choose to live a good life or you choose to take from your father. Your choice will decide your fate."

"But I choose for my father to die."

"Does it matter? A terrorist is a terrorist and can never change. Best is to clean the whole bloodline."

"Please, don't kill me. We are almost there; after those hills will be his camp."

"Good. Now stop the damn car." After Abdul stopped the car, Williams stepped out and looked at him. "Go to your old man and tell him what is coming. Your actions in the camp will determine if you will live. Now, go."

Abdul never waited to be told twice, and he drove off like the devil was after him. At the entrance to the camp, he never slowed when he was flagged down. He moved past the checkpoint and only slowed when he reached his father's tent. His father ran out with a curse. "What is the meaning of this madness?" he demanded. "You were lucky they recognized your car; if not, you would have been gunned down!" he fumed. "And where is your brother?"

Abdul was panting and couldn't answer, only pointing at the entrance. "I asked you a question!" his father said with a snarl on his lips.

"He is dead."

"Dead? How and when?"

"One moment we were in a bar drinking, and the next, a man just came in and shot him."

"Who dares to lay a hand on my son? I will skin him alive, and I will eat his heart! Where is this man?"

Fakal's Camp

"He is coming here now." And at that moment, Williams detonated the bomb he had attached to the car before he let Abdul go. The explosion was enormous and most of the terrorists were dead before the blast could settle, while others screamed on the floor with burns and body parts missing.

Fakal was lucky as he was shielded by the mass of his men who surrounded him while he was questioning Abdul when the explosion occurred. He was dazed, trying to get his bearings. His sight was a blur, and then he heard gunshots at the periphery of his vision. He scrambled back, trying to put a distance between him and where the gunshot was coming from. He turned and saw a darkened figure cutting down his men in a way he believed was impossible. He scrambled on his hands and knees while his ears kept ringing from the blast of the explosion.

As he stood up trying to get away, something hot hit him on his right leg and he fell down again. He tried to stand, but he couldn't feel his leg; it wouldn't obey him. He looked at his leg and was surprised to see a large hole. A shadow fell upon his face and he looked up to see a handsome man in his late twenties grinning at him. "Are you trying to leave your party, Mr. Fakal?"

"Who are you?" he cried out and felt the taste of blood in his mouth.

"You killed my brother, so I'm here for a brother's revenge. When you made that video, you were counting down to the day of your death."

"You killed my son! We are even, and besides, you will never get out of here. My men will kill you."

"Stop yapping your mouth." Williams dragged him and started undressing him by using a pocket knife to cut his clothes off, not caring about the generous amount of skin he cut, too. Fakal was screaming and shouting for help, but no one could help. He saw his son and smiled, but was ashamed to see his son leaving him and running away.

"Seems like he wanted to live, huh? I gave him a choice and he chose life. Now, back to you. You should know my brother is part of my humanity. He is the one who made sure I had a hint of morality, but you took him away. Thus, taking away my humanity made me an animal with no morality."

And with that, he deliver a punishment that relieved Fakal's of his dignity in one clean swipe of his knife. As Fakal opened his mouth to scream, he stuffed his dignity in his mouth and injury him in his right eye not so deep that he might die. He saw a hot rod burning and picked it up with care and pressed it into the wound between Fakal's legs to stop the bleeding. He was even kind enough to stop the bleeding from the bullet hole in his legs, too.

"Now, what next?" he asked.

"Please... just kill me."

"Now, why would I do that? I'm not in a hurry, you know."

Fakal was crying. "I'm sorry."

"Hey, don't be sorry. The deed is done. You chose a life of crime; as you know, crime does not pay."

"What are you going to do with me?"

"Well, I was hoping to make sure you're able to speak again and to make sure you're able to write again too and to injury the  remaining eye, but not kill you—as a reminder to others."

"No!" he screamed. "Kill me! I enjoyed how your brother begged for his life. It was too cheap. Oh, how his blood flow was like a stream waiting to flow to the promised land."

"Now that you said that, it seems I will carry out my plan." And with a cold calculated precision, he made sure Fakal can never speak again nor be able to hold another weapon again and made him never to look upon the world he had terrorize again. "Now, let me see how you can give orders, eh? Enjoy your new life." And with that...