‘Easy now, these men are not of the Evil One,’ Mr Li said.
‘The Patriarch is correct,’ the priest affirmed. ‘These two are not of the Evil One.’
The girls, whose faces were as unwaveringly expressionless as those of store mannequins, lowered their guns, but they rested their fingers against the triggers as they gripped the weapons loosely in their hands, ready to snap them back into action at a moment’s notice.
‘As you two are not of the Evil One, you may enter this holy place,’ the priest said to Hrothgar and Sigurd.
‘These men bring news of evil tidings,’ Mr Li announced with a melodramatic flair, uncharacteristic of his usual bland and business-like nature. ‘I must speak to you immediately about it.’
The priest glanced left and then right at the two girls beside him, and nodded subtly.
‘You heard the Patriarch. Escort us to my private chambers. These men and I will speak there.’
The girls performed an abrupt about-turn on their heels and then marched ahead of Sigurd and Hrothgar, who entered the monastery grounds with measured caution. Sigurd subtly slipped his hand inside his suit coat and fingered the grip of his concealed Desert Eagle.
‘Trust not in men. Trust only in steel,’ he muttered to himself as he peered around, taking in the surroundings and checking immediately for the nearest positions of cover. ‘I am the terror in the night. I am death incarnate.’
Two more girls emerged from behind the doors, also armed with AK-47s, and after everyone had entered, they shut and barred the huge oaken gateway. The winding path to the main quarters of the monastery traced a passage through a pristine Japanese garden, sculpted and manicured to a perfection that was beyond artificial. Sigurd’s hand remained inside his coat, his fingers curled around the grip of his pistol, and he kept his eyes peeled. He soon noticed, with his veteran warrior’s eyes that scanned all surroundings for the most minor of details, shadows that shifted ever so subtly, leaves that shimmered in the late afternoon sun with the very slightest of rustles, and tree trunks through which a dark presence could almost be felt; the assassins were everywhere, watching him and Hrothgar with the gaze of nocturnal predators in a midnight forest. He could feel the crosshairs of their rifles and pistols resting hungrily on the back of his skull, and he swallowed a mouthful of sticky saliva, feeling the first whisperings of sensations which were usually quite alien to him: fear and apprehension.
Once inside the old stone building, the two teenage guards shut and barred the heavy red doors behind the men and then stood guard with their rifles at the ready. The priest then led Mr Li, Hrothgar and Sigurd to a small room to the left. After everyone was inside, he closed the door behind them. Sigurd noticed right away that there were two teenage girls waiting in this chamber, who he recognised as the assassins he and Hrothgar had just purchased. Each was armed with a .45 pistol – a weapon more suited to the close confines of the room than an assault rifle.
‘May I present AH-1513 and AH-477,’ the priest said. ‘They have been selected to carry out the holy crusade against the Evil One’s servants.’
‘The Mighty One will be most appreciative of your efforts,’ Mr Li said, beaming a glowing smile at the girls. They did not return his smile.
Mr Li explained the exact details of the two missions that Sigurd had assigned to AH-1513 and AH-477 respectively. The girls, grim and stony-faced, made notes about the specifics of each mission on their phones, communicating only by nodding and grunting affirmations. After Mr Li had explained everything, and the priest had finished weaving the details of their respective missions into a religious crusade for each of them, Mr Li smiled and stood up as if to leave the room.
Hrothgar, however, suddenly shot out an arm and grabbed Mr Li’s forearm, gripping it tight with his iron rod-like fingers.
‘Going somewhere, my friend?’ he asked with a vicious grin.
Mr Li, alarmed, tried to jerk his arm out of Hrothgar’s grasp.
‘What is the meaning of this?!’ he stammered, his voice tinged with a sudden gush of both anger and anxiety. ‘We’ve concluded our business talks, so there is no more reason to be sitting in this room. Get your hands off me!’
Hrothgar jumped up and shoved Mr Li back into his chair.
‘Sit the fuck down, shorty,’ he growled. ‘We’re not finished yet.’
‘Need I remind you of the two products who are in this room, across the table?’ Mr Li hissed, white-hot rage flaring in his black eyes. ‘If you raise one more finger against me, they will end your miserable life this instant! It is a sin of the highest order to lay hands upon the Patriarch!’
‘Not when the Patriarch has fallen so low as to become a servant of the Evil One,’ the priest said coolly, his eyes aglow with satanic menace.
A mad flush of abrupt terror blazed across Mr Li’s face.
‘What!? You … you … what!?’ he gasped, stuttering and stammering with disbelief as AH-477 and AH-1513 raised their pistols and aimed them at his head.
Outside the room the silence was shattered with a clattering hail of automatic gunfire, undercut by the baritone booming of a combat shotgun. Then, as quickly as it had started, the firefight ended.
‘What, what the hell, what?! What the fuck just happened?!’ Mr Li shrieked.
Icy sweat was beading on his forehead and running down his chubby cheeks, and his hands were shaking with the violence of raw panic.
‘That was the sound of your protector being eliminated, Mr Li,’ the priest said. ‘You see, she was also possessed by the Evil One.’
‘That’s, you, you’re crazy, you’ve gone fucking insane! You fucking liar, you—’
Hrothgar smashed a fist across Mr Li’s jaw in a brutal right cross, sending him tumbling over the back of the chair where he crumpled into a
