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Collateral Damage

ALIAS

They say someone is defined by his actions not his memory. Life is determined by our decisions and the outcome they bring us. That someday our sins will come back to haunt us. The very goods and evils we create will come find us.

Maybe that's why I have trouble sleeping at night.

I smell death in the air. It's a pungent smell, one which I know instantly. It leaves you with a foreboding sense of death, one that is likely your own. You know the feeling; the kind you get when you think someone is in your house when you're alone? Yeah, that one, the unknown of what the future may hold.

Which would worry someone more; the fact that I can't stop it, or that I don't know why I'm this way?

The stone staircase that descended was slick with condensation. With each foot one had to be mindful of where they were stepping so not to fall. A fall down such steep and sharp stairs would not end well. The lighting wasn't adequate either. Although, it was assumed that it was more of an effect than anything. The gloomy lights, down the treacherous stairs gave a foreboding sense of dread.

The Mercenary, who had made many trips down the aforementioned staircase, took his time on his descent. He walked with a group of others, seen many brought this way to their ensuing death, however, he did not feel threatened. He was free to come and go as he pleased within the compound. As he had no allegiance, except for money, he could walk freely among them without harm.

"Why does he want me?" The Mercenary asked.

A neighboring gazelle turned to the midnight black fox. The Mercenary didn't even have to look at him to know the gazelle despised him. It was just the way thing were. War did that. The Mercenary fox also detested the gazelle, even though they both worked for who was in charge. However there was a mutual respect between the two of them; an acknowledgment of each of the warrior's skills.

"Hell if I know. She's one of your kind." the gazelle replied.

"No." the fox replied, his voice deep and solemn. "I don't even know who this is. I don't do foxes, or have you forgotten?"

"Easy," The gazelle warned. "No one's forgotten anything. Your payment was larger than normal, so we expect a little extra every now and then."

The Mercenary replied as they entered the actual catacombs, which proved to be more gloomy than the staircase. "Be sure to tell your boss, this is not what I do. I don't want any part of your fucked up games."

"I'm sure your payment will make you forget such things."

"Again," The fox asked impatiently. "Why am I here?"

"Boss wants you to talk with her."

"Why?"

The gazelle shrugged, his voice echoing off the mossy walls that curved and twisted and were littered with solid wooden doors. "I already told you I don't know. Maybe you can talk some sense to her or something. She might feel better talking to... well I'm sure you'll understand when you see."

"Do you think she's holding out?" The Mercenary asked as they stopped in front of one of the wooden doors.

The gazelle pulled the iron dead bolt, unlocking it from the outside. "Believe me, she's not holding anything back." With that the door swung open, revealing what the gazelle was insinuating.

The Mercenary's face grimaced involuntarily ever so slightly. He wasn't expecting to be met with such a sight. If he hadn't been informed earlier, he wouldn't have guessed she was a cheetah. Her face was contorted with lumps of livid flesh that had swollen from physical abuse at the paws of her interrogators. One of her eyes was nearly completely swollen shut, only dark purple skin forcing her left eye closed. She had been tied down to a harsh metal chair, wrists strapped to the arms, and ankles to the legs. Next to her, there was an IV drip with some clear fluid in a medical bag. The Mercenary could guess it was a saline solution used in junction with hyoscine-pentothal. In his experiences, that combination felt like someone was injecting napalm into your veins. The Mercenary noticed her mascara had smeared down her face by her tears of anguish. Various other cuts, and bruises patched over her body where they had abused her. She sat in the middle of the room wearing next to nothing, exposed to the frigid air of the catacombs. All of this was part of breaking her down. The Mercenary could only guess at their reasons.

The Mercenary took in all of this. This faction, The Alliance, as they referred to themselves, was merciless. But in this war, the Invisible War, it was how the battles were fought. Not in actual combat, but in gorilla warfare. Humiliation, blackmail, entrapment, and espionage all were some of the various tactics the factions used to try and maintain the Underground's black market. Clan of Cougar, The Omega Section, Section 21, Nachtfuchs, The Lambda Mafia, The Alliance; they all waged war on each other for a cut in the action that took place in the lower sections of the city of Palamont, and other divisions and groups fought the same way in other cities. Most of the leaders were wealthy business owners, mafia dons, or political leaders. No one really even knew how it started, but as far back as The Mercenary could remember there had always been separation between groups. Some were formed by species, others on common interest. It really didn't matter because once a group was established; it added further chaos to The Underground. For the Mercenary, it meant he had one more potential client.

The Mercenary knew no boundaries. His only allegiance was to money. There were times when he was forced to betray some of the "allies" of organizations he dealt with exclusively, but then again he had killed enough on opposing sides that it evened out. He worked for money. It was all about who was willing to pay the higher price. Knowing no sides, or people allowed him to carry out an assignment without question. The war would never end, and as far as he was concerned, it didn't matter. Power would shift, and as long as he did not ally himself to one side, he could continue to turn a profit.

"Talk to her." The gazelle commanded The Mercenary.

He turned, and scowled. "Again, what do you want me to say? It looks like you've got things...taken care of."

"We need her to give up her squeeze, fox." A rabbit hissed in The Mercenary's ear. "We need to know who she's connected with."

The Mercenary turned to the rabbit; his teeth were broken from some battle in the past. He stunk extremely bad, and The Mercenary had to turn his muzzle in the opposite direction to avoid the stench and the churning in his stomach. He knew this rabbit was the lead interrogator. Everything that happened to the cheetah was by his paw. "You bring her in and you don't even know who she's connected with? What the hell do you think she's going to tell me that she hasn't told you?"

"Listen, fox-" the rabbit growled.

The Mercenary stepped forward, threatening the rabbit, but the gazelle intervened.

"Easy!" he said. "You," he said to the rabbit. "go stand over there, before your neck gets broken. And you," he turned to The Mercenary, "I'd really like not having any of our people die tonight, okay? We know she's connected to Equinox, we just don't know how. We're pretty sure it's though her leading guy. Go make her think you're here to negotiate her release."

"And if I refuse?"

The Gazelle scratched his head. "Well, I'm certainly not going to make you, but you'll cut your pay down to a quarter of what you earned."

The Mercenary sighed, but he was paid to do things, even if he didn't enjoy it. It was just what he was all about. He needed the money, and knew it would be harder to get if he did not cooperate.

"Fine, but we do this my way." The Mercenary commanded in his dark tone. He walked swiftly over to the cheetah and drew out a long combat knife. The light from the room reflected off the razor-sharp blade. The Mercenary could see its reflection in the cheetah's one good eye, dilated in fear. However, The Mercenary had no intentions of harming her, not physically anyway. He quickly cut the zip ties holding her in place, and pulled the IV from her arm.

The rabbit, who was in charge of the interrogation, began to protest violently and looked over to the gazelle. The gazelle looked from The Mercenary to the rabbit and shook his head in disapproval, calling him off. Looking disgruntled by being overruled, the rabbit lurked back to the darkness of the room.

Once her bonds were severed, she collapsed to the ground, shivering from the cold without the protection of most of her clothes. The Mercenary walked over to her and crouched down beside her. She immediately curled up into the fetal position, petrified as to what may come next. The Mercenary gently placed his paw on her naked shoulder, causing her to convulse violently. Gently, he lifted her head into his lap, where she still laid, scared. He leaned in and whispered a gentle whisper to the feline.

"Relax, no one is going to hurt you now." He said soothingly.

"Please..." she managed to squeak out. "please no more..."

"Shhhh...." The Mercenary soothed her. "You're going to get out of here, but I need you to help me."

"...I don't want to be here, there's been a mistake..." Her paws gripped at The Mercenary's jacket, gripping it in an attempt to get some comfort from the stranger.

"I know that." The Mercenary replied. "I need to know who I need to contact to get you out of here. Can you tell me that?"

"...I can't believe what they've done to me...why did they do this to me..."

"I can help you, but I need to know who I've got to contact."

The words finally registered with the female, and her troubled brown eyes looked up to meet the green fox's. "You can help me?" She asked.

The Mercenary nodded. "They sent me here to negotiate your release. Equinox, right?" The cheetah swallowed hard, and shivered uncontrollably. "Let me help you."

"Zias..."

The Mercenary leaned in closer to the cheetah, gently stroking her face, wary of her contusions.

"Zias Noxid..." She finally gave up. "...he's my fiance...that's all I know..."

The Mercenary looked up to the gazelle, nodding his approval. They had gotten what they wanted from her, The Mercenary had extracted it.

"We're going to get you out of here soon." The Mercenary whispered to the cheetah, and gently set her head on the cold stone surface. Her paws clung to him, but he forced her away and got to his feet. He turned to the gazelle. "Are we done here?" He growled in a low hushed tone.

"Well, you are, at least." The gazelle replied. From the corner of his eye, The Mercenary could see the rabbit interrogator opening up a cabinet. He didn't have to look to know what was coming next. Everything he had just told the cheetah was a lie. The Mercenary was not going to go contact this Noxid person. She would not be ok. They were going to make sure she suffered more humiliation than she already had. The Mercenary walked out the wooden cell door into the gloomy hallway of the catacombs. He looked back to see the rabbit crouched down behind the cheetah, seizing her roughly by the shoulders, dragging her away. The Gazelle turned and walked out another door, having a name he had business to attend to. The rest who stayed gathered around their tormented victim, awaiting the perverted carnival of abuse to follow. The Mercenary knew what would come next; the violations of the body that would take place. It was a sign of dominance; dominance over this Zias Noxid and everyone like him. This would prove that they could do whatever the hell they wanted. It was how they fought the war. This would last for several hours. After they had their kicks with her, they would torture her in the most barbaric fashion; ways that would inflict the most pain while keeping her breathing. In the end she would not leave this room alive.

The Mercenary knew this because he had been there to see it all happen. He didn't partake; there were some things he wouldn't even do for money. Regardless, he had seen it all come to pass. But this is how things were done and it was why he was where he was in life. His past was a complicated one, and so he chose not to think about it. Tears were streaming down the cheetah's face as she was hoisted up to her knees as the crowd formed a circle around her. The wooden door slammed shut in The Mercenary's face. He also chose not to think about her.

It was easier that way.