H.I.V.E: Aftershock the lost chapter

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Action and Adventure  |  House: Booksie Classic
My homework project for English this term was to write an alternate ending to a book I had already read. So I decided write an extra chapter or two for "H.I.V.E: Aftershock" which is the seventh book in the series. It's a flashback of Raven who is an orphan from somewhere like Rio de Janeiro i think. And one day she was mysteriously abducted by Pietor Furan and his sister, who want to train her to be an assasin.
Bear in mind that this story is not finished yet.
I origionally had plans for a dramatic twist at the end, but I don't really have to to do that and all the other homework projects i've got
P.S. It also includes the last chapter of the book

Submitted: February 07, 2012

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Submitted: February 07, 2012

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The final chapter…

 

Fifteen years ago…

 

Natalya ran across the rooftop and sprang through the air, smashing through the skylight and dropping to the tiled floor of the room below. She drew the two swords from her back and waited. Moments later armed guards began to flood into the room. Natalya dropped a cylinder OF billowing smoke and exploded into action. She couldn’t see the guards through the billowing white fog but she didn’t need to. They were slow, clumsy and noisy. She tracked their movements as they stumbled around her and closing her eyes, she danced. Her swords sang as they swept through THE AIR, moving faster and faster, finding their targets flawlessly. The screams of the guards as they fell just drove Natalya to move faster and strike harder. In seconds it was over, the smoke slowly cleared and she stood alone in the centre of the room, surrounded by a dozen bodies. She knew that her target was close now. She sprinted up the nearby staircase and stopped outside the intricately carved wooden doors at the top. She pressed her ear to the wood, listening for any sound from within but she could hear nothing. She slowly turned the handle and eased the door open. In the room beyond there was a single high-backed chair facing a roaring log fire. Natalya walked silently across the floor towards the chair.

“Hello, Natalya,” Anastasia Furan said, getting up out of the chair and turning to face her. “Or would you prefer Raven?”

“Madame Furan,” Natalya said, sliding the swords into the crossed sheaths on her back and dropping to one knee, head bowed.

“You have passed your final test, my dear,” Anastasia said, walking towards her. “This is the moment you have been trained for. Do you feel ready?”

“I want nothing more,” Natalya replied.

“Very well, but before I give you your first mission I want to ask something.”

“Of course. Anything,” Natalya replied.

“Tell me, Natalya, do you still want to kill me?”

“Very much,” Natalya replied, head still bowed.

“Then why do you not cut me down now, on this very spot?”

“Because it would change nothing,” Natalya replied.

“Would it not give you the satisfaction?”

“I feel no satisfaction in killing. I am an instrument, a tool, a weapon. If it is not you wielding that weapon then it will just be someone else. You talked to me years ago about the illusion of choice. You were right - you have taught me well.”

“Then truly you are ready,” Anastasia said with a smile. She picked up a large manila envelope from the table beside the chair and unsealed it, pulling the black and white photograph from inside.

“This is your target. He murdered someone I loved very much, many years ago. He is illusive and a dangerous man and that is why his execution must be swift and merciless.”

“Of course.”

“His name,” Anastasia said, handling Natalya the photograph, “is Maximilian Nero.”

 

Chapter 13 – A different ending

 

Mount Ratz – Canada

 

Throughout the blizzard Raven stood motionless. Heavy snow blanketed the entire area and her white camouflage suit hid her from any casual observer, her form flickered constantly and so she had no discernable outline. A smooth white helmet adorned her head, concealing her black hair and the very distinctive SCAR that ran down one cheek. She also WORE A PAIR OF MODIFIED rubber, calf-length shoes purposefully designed to aid stealth. Had anyone been able to notice her they might have wondered how she was warm enough in such inadequate clothing, but what they couldn’t have noticed was the heated vest she wore beneath.

Much more obvious was the tactical belt she wore around her waist, attached to which were an assortment of grenades, a taser, a number of blank electronic card keys and infra-red binoculars. And of course the ever-present katanas that rested comfortably in their sheaths.

Raven wasn’t quite sure why she had stopped here, but for a long time her actions had been determined by gut instinct and she had learnt a long time ago not to ignore that feeling. She had felt a familiar twinge in the pit of her stomach as she scoured the area, searching for the entrance to Nero’s hideout. It was the perfect hiding place. A huge V-shaped valley had been gouged out of the side of the mountain. There WERE only ten metres or so from one wall to the other. A single, sturdy spur of rock jutted into the void and the cliffs on either side dropped away so steeply that it would have given the most experienced climber a challenge. It was only by use of her wrist-mounted grappling hook that Raven had even managed to scale the cliffs at all. But there were two more important pieces of evidence. Generally the entire mountainside was smooth, as it had been weathered over a very long period of time. But the wall furthest from the entrance to the valley was uneven, as if a giant had run his hand over it, scraping out the stone and leaving the surface warped. It was possible that there was a door concealed here somewhere. The second thing was just as obvious. The ground was completely flat. There were no crags or rock the hide behind; there were no drifts of snow… There was nowhere to hide. If anyone was to arrive now, she would be spotted almost instantly. Camouflage suit or not, no matter where she hid, she would be silhouetted against the grey rock wall on all but one side.

Suddenly conscious of how visible she was, she moved to find a place to set her ambush. This tiny movement saved her life. She felt the bullet whisper past her helmet and it was only now that she finally saw it. Saw the white helicopter hovering almost noiselessly fifty metres away. And the sniper perched at the window, poised to fire a bullet that, in less than a second, could take her life.

In a blur of movement, Raven plucked one of two small handguns from the hidden holster under her arm and, suddenly in a ready position, fired several shots at the windscreen of the helicopter.

Although the bullets barely scratched the specially hardened surface, the pilot instinctively banked away from the incoming fire and the sniper cursed loudly as he lost sight of the target.

When the helicopter finally came back around again, Raven was gone.

The pilot manoeuvred into relative stillness, despite the strong wind, before nimbly bringing the helicopter to a halt only half a metre from the floor of the outcropping. Half a dozen men spilled out, slammed the doors and the pilot withdrew to land a little further away, before rejoining the others. Fanning out, they probed the area. They took care to never face one direction for too long, hereby denying an assassin the chance to sneak up behind them. They held their guns confidently and conducted the search with utmost efficiency. These men were obviously well trained. They were good; But Raven was better.

A single beam of rock, about five metres from the floor, ran between the two valley sides. It was here that Raven lay concealed. Her grappling hook was the only thing keeping her anchored. At the moment the rock beam was keeping her concealed from her pursuers. But that was about to change.

Being careful not to be seen, she raised her head slightly and turned her gaze to the men were so persistent in trying to kill her.

They were becoming unnerved. Daniel Johnson was the commander of this small group of people, and he was nervous He knew someone had sent her here and the fact that this stranger had thought it unnecessary to bring any reinforcements spoke volumes of his skill. And Johnson had absolutely no doubt that this person was a man; Very few women decided to enter this line of work, and those that did very rarely had the aptitude for it. For a moment duty fought against fear. For a split second the group paused.

But years of training and fear of a higher authority drove them forward. After all, these people and their organisation had very few enemies, and those few posed very little threat.

As the first of the men came into view beneath her, Raven felt a lurch in her stomach. If they were to look up now, it would be impossible not to see her. But as IS often the case in this situation, no-one did look up. The overwhelming fear subsided as quickly as it had arrived, but Raven was slightly disturbed by that small moment when she had lost all control. A moment like that could spell the end of everything, she thought.

Finally the time had come. As soon as the last man came into view, she jammed her thumb onto the trigger release. The first warning he had was when Raven landed feet first on his shoulders. The sharp sound of splintering bones followed an instant later. In one synchronised action all the men turned as one. The man closest levelled his gun at her. With her left hand she swatted the barrel of the gun to one side and with the other hand drew one of her katanas. She was graced with the elegance of a trained killer and the men were clumsy in comparison. She pivoted three-hundred and sixty degrees, her katana lashing out. It whipped through the air, striking the man on the wrist. He lost all control in his hand and his finger relaxed in the trigger guard. Raven continued to spin and having turned a full circle, grabbed the man’s shoulder and yanked him in front of her. He lurched into her as several bullets slammed into him, his body armour not quite strong enough to protect him. Miraculously he was still standing, which made the next part much easier. Taking a small step backwards she kicked him hard. He toppled into two others and together they tumbled. The instant Raven was exposed she shot another man between the eyes, the gun seeming to leap out of its holster and into her hand.

Daniel was mortified. This stranger had wiped out almost half of his team in seconds; people that over the past few years he had worked very closely with and had become to think of as family. He lay still, still stunned by the thundering impact of the wounded man crashing in to him. A man was dying, only feet away. Feeling the bile rising in his throat and shock setting in, he turned his head. His second in command lay pinned by the dead man’s body, his leg bent at an impossible angle. Other lay ominously still. As he stared at the motionless forms of his friends, a red haze began to cloud his vision. This insolent stranger was going to die! Propping himself up on his elbows, he took aim. He looked down the scope, the crosshairs centring on the glossy white helmet. The target turned towards him and slid the helmet off, for the first time revealing that she was in fact a woman. He paused; baffled that such a beautiful woman could be such a graceful killer. But that just made him more determined to carry out the act. The fact (**THAT TWICE**) that that a woman had killed all these people made the act even worse. The haze lifted, everything becoming clear. Previously tensed muscles relaxed, the barrel of the gun moving much more freely than before. His finger tightened on the trigger. He paused again, this time to savour the moment: To anticipate the sweet pleasure that he felt when he killed.

The woman smiled, but it was a cold smile. It didn’t reach her eyes; it was a smile with no warmth in it.

He was totally bewildered. What could she have to smile about when she was a second from death?

A faint beeping sound had entered the peripheral of his hearing, like a heart monitor counting down the time until her heart would stop beating. But the sound was escalating, getting louder and faster with each beat. The red haze was back pulsing in time to the sound dazzling him. It was only now he realised his mistake… And by now it was too late.

There had been six grenades in her belt, but now there were five…

Dreading what he would find, he slowly turned his head to the right, in the most minimalistic movement he could manage; as if he was in view of an animal that could only detect you if you moved. And he saw the missing grenade in the pocket of the man she had kicked towards him. Right where she had planted it. And it was little more than a foot away from his face.


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