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The caller said that he was being held in what used to be the stadium. Tonight, midnight, be there with Morgan and a million bucks in cash, used notes only. Sounded like a cliche straight out of some dime store video game about hard boiled cops in a hard boiled city. Then again, that's what we were. I told Morgan and he agreed, wearily of course, and got to arranging the cash before the meet tonight. I got with Brandon, arranged some stuff of my own, and by the time the meet rolled around, we were ready.

I sat in the shadows down in the stores surrounding the stadium. Morgan was seated in the stands, also in the dark. We already saw our target, or rather, our victim. Abayya sat in the center of the stadium, illuminated by a single bank of floodlights, tied to a wooden chair with a gag around his mouth and a bandage around his knee, stained deep red from the bullet wound. He wasn't moving, head sagging against his chest, and that worried me a fair bit. Around him stood the mercenaries, minus the one with the bandaged ear of course, he was most likely sitting six feet under the ground from the bullet that sat in his heart. They were busy watching out for any sign of intruders, or their man and their cash. I watched them in the shadows, busy loading rounds into a magazine that sat on a snack bar counter. Next to that laid a rifle, an old wooden thing that I'd gotten from an arms dealer, the very same one that I'd previously identified as a potential aggressor. I'd gotten some small arms from him at a reduced price, given that we were going against his competitors here. The rifle, a version of the M21 with a wooden stock, was cheap, light, and accurate, just the way I liked it.

I loaded a magazine but didn't cock the gun. I was still waiting for the star of the show to enter the ring. As my watch beeped midnight, Morgan stood from the bleachers and walked downstairs. The men saw him almost instantly, perchance they had vision from up high that had infra-red or somesuch, and they leveled their guns at him, but he raised his hands, one of which was holding the bag full of money. They beckoned for him to come down and he complied, slowly walking down and into the light. He was dishevelled and weary, tired of being made to play the fool all day long, so when he set the bag down on the grass it was with a finality that his ordeal would be over, even though it resulted in him forfeiting his life, almost. The mercenaries closed in and took the bag and him into their custody, zip tying his hands behind his back as they led him off.

I clicked my flashlight on and off once.

One of the mercs caught onto that and pointed up into the shop area, yelling something indistinct.

Half his face came right off, splattering onto the grass below.

I cocked my rifle and stood, heading towards the windows where I took aim and fired potshots at the men below.

The mercs scrambled for cover, pulling their hostage with them as they returned fire. Another man was down, a fist sized hole in his chest as he fell. I could hear them yelling back and forth between each other, wondering where this new, unknown shooter was, how he had such firepower and elevation. I knew, of course, but what I needed to know more was the location of their shooter. Right on cue, the window next to me shattered and I dove to the floor. Their shooter, of course, who no doubt was pinpointing me in his sights for his next shot. Unless I could find him first.

I scooted across the floor and reached for my bag, pulling it towards me as a bullet pinged off the linoleum where it once was. I grabbed the night vision scope I bought and quickly attached it to my gun, before having to scramble out of the way of more gunfire that raked across the windows, shattering more of them and showering me in glass. I ran like hell along the hallway, bullets peppering the ground and walls around me, while up above my guardian angel removed a man's hand from his arm, taking his machine gun along with it. After a few seconds most of the gunfire ceased, so I skidded to a stop and took aim at the bleachers on the other side of the stadium through my scope. I could see barely any heat, but upon closer inspection of one of the upper entrances, I saw a faint shimmer. A flash of light no bigger than a pinprick issued from it, then a bottle nearby shattered into pieces.

I found the shooter.

But how was his heat signature masked so well?

Didn't matter.

Time slowed.

I took aim again, searching for the slight shimmer of the man's camouflage. I found it as another bullet whizzed by my cheek. I adjusted to correct for height, placed my finger on the trigger, and pulled. I felt the bullet eject from my gun and barely watched it travel to my target before I had to duck down into cover.

Time sped up.

I reloaded my rifle and ran out, going through the broken window and into the stands, rushing towards the stadium area itself. I could see the remaining mercs as they dragged both Abayya and Morgan away, still firing at me as they ran like the scaredy cats they were. Another merc had his chest blown open by my guardian angel as I approached them, causing more panic as they pulled back, firing at me wildly with their guns. I fired back with my rifle, and when that ran out I dropped it and pulled my cannons, laying even more fire down on them. I wasn't fast enough to catch them as they vanished inside the stadium's back areas, so I reloaded and prepared to head inside.

"Hey Brandon, I'm heading inside. See if you can relocate and cover the stadium while I'm gone. If you see anyone get out, you better confirm if they're our guys before dropping them. Anyone else in here that isn't either me, Morgan or Abayya can be considered a bad guy until proven otherwise."

I gave him a thumbs up and headed in. I couldn't see it, but from the top of a parking garage overlooking the stadium, Brandon smiled, adjusting his position as he reloaded his sniper rifle. That had cost us the most from the arms dealer, but it was worth it. Guardian angel indeed, although an angel he was not.

---

One of them was wounded, apparently, cause the blood I saw on the ground was still fresh. Might have been one of the mercs, might've been Abayya, I didn't know. I followed the trail anyway, cannons at the ready and pace swift. I had to catch up with them before they bailed with two hostages instead of one, plus with our spare change to boot. The stadium was massive on the inside, since soccer was this country's thing and all, there were practice areas, locker rooms, showers, utility rooms and more as I weaved my way into the labyrinth. Wasn't long before I picked up their scent again, in both senses of the word, and I was back upstairs in the stands, weaving my way through a back area that eventually emerged outside. I saw the motley group just ahead of me and vice versa, because I was met with a hail of fire again. I ducked and weaved into the stands, using the chairs as very meagre cover, but they hid my form well enough. From up high, my guardian angel struck again, punching a hole in a man's throat and a hole in another man's chest with the same bullet. The herd was thinning and it was only a matter of time before they had no men left and I was free to pick up my prizes. I ran ahead and vaulted over a row of chairs, dodging another spray of bullets in the process. They were fierce, I gave them that, and tenacious too.

Suddenly the world ahead of me erupted into flame and I was ripped from my feet to crash into the stands behind me. My hearing was shot to hell, so I barely heard Brandon's warning.

"They've got rockets! Stay down!"

Well too late for that. I hauled myself to my feet and pressed on. I didn't know where the rocketeer was, nor did I care at that point. All I cared about was catching my prey, alive and not dead. Another rocket crumpled into the stands behind me, propelling me forward but helping me gain momentum to break into a run. The group was just ahead, their strength reduced to three gunmen hauling two dead weights along, so effectively one combat ready man. I could see the bleeder now, it was Abayya, his leg was oozing blood, soaking his jeans and foot in crimson.

I had to hurry. He was going to die if I let up.

Brandon fired again. The lead man was now missing his hand from wrist onward. As he fell, screaming, I ran past him, filling his face with a bullet to put him out of his misery. By this point the whole chase was spilling into the parking lot outside, and as I scrambled down the last few steps I saw the group preparing to leave in a jeep nearby. I fired a few shots that pinged off the side of the vehicle and yelled at them.

"Stop! You've already lost! Drop your weapons and give them up! Now!"

The remaining mercs stopped, hesitantly. I could see the fatigue in their faces, highlighted in the bare orange streetlights. They were tired of lugging these burdens around, just as I was tired of chasing them around. Almost willingly they placed their rifles on the ground and gave up, but I didn't drop mine. I advanced forward and took their guns away, before I stepped forward to relieve them of their hostages. I took Abayya first, laid him on my shoulder, but as I reached for Morgan, two loud cracks cut me off. The two mercs fell over, lifeless, and over their corpses stood the prodigal son himself, Levington, here to claim what was his. He pushed Morgan onto his knees and held the barrel of his pistol to the back of the man's head, all the while maintaining a stone cold glare fixed directly on me. I felt his hatred from here, felt it rise from his body like an aura, and I froze, Abayya heavy on my shoulder.

"Levi, put down the gun."

He laughed.

"No."

"Either way you're gonna die, Levi. You kill him, I hunt you down. Let him go, he'll destroy your business but you'll live and maybe he won't hire someone to hunt you. Arguably the better choice to keep him, so leave him be Levi."

"Do you think I'm stupid Anderson? I've got nothing to lose, because my lovely elder brother already has everything I want! So the only way I'll ever get something in life is to take what's his for myself, and then I'll get somewhere."

He jabbed the barrel of his pistol against Morgan's head.

"For years I've watched you gleam and soak in the glory of your success, you always had enough to cover your losses, if you even had any. Now it's my turn to shine, brother, and you're no longer needed."

Shit.

Time slowed.

I raised my gun to blow Levi's face off.

I saw Morgan give me a look, one of acceptance and apology. Then his brains exited through a gaping hole blown through his face.

I lost my strength.

Time sped up.

His limp body fell forward and slumped onto the ground. There was nothing I could do. Levi kept his gun and walked the whole way back to his car and drove off. I slowly sunk to my knees, Abayya's body leaning against mine. I couldn't even tell if he was alive still, but as he slowly fell onto my lap, not breathing or moving, I realised Abayya, too, was dead. Money, gone. Hostages, dead. If this were Manhattan, I would've lost my badge, but here I had no badge, just the promise of one and a paycheck that was signed by the man, now corpse, in front of me.

I sat on the asphalt and pushed Abayya's body away from me. My thoughts ran to America again, consuming me in grief, but before I could fall into that well again, Brandon's voice in my ear woke me from my daze.

"Daniel, I saw everything that happened. Don't worry. After you went in, I happened to see them pull up as I was setting up, so when they went in, I snuck to the car and planted a GPS tracker on it. They didn't notice. We can track that car all the way to its final destination and end him together."

We still had a chance to tie up loose ends. That in itself was something, rather than nothing. I gathered myself and stood. I didn't want to leave the corpse of my friend behind, so I scooped Abayya into my arms and brought him back to our car. He would get a proper burial. Morgan, I dumped in the car too, no sense leaving him there. For all intents and purposes, this would look like a deal gone wrong between the mercs and some unknown party, and no one would care because things like this happened all the time. The only thing that would matter was their precious stadium. I waited for Brandon and we left.

How were we supposed to let this bad news settle? Not until we ensured vengeance was taken.

---

Levi, like a coward, had ran immediately home after the events that transpired that night. His home, a smaller penthouse apartment near the outskirts of the city, was heavily guarded by Nexus mercenaries, no doubt put in place to deter us from getting in. So we staked out the place instead, studied the routines of the guards, where the cameras were placed, good entry points and exit points. Thankfully, since this was at the rim of the city, there were hills nearby, along with other apartment blocks of similar size. It was easy to establish roof access by zip line, but our problem was when. It had to be when the guard strength was at its weakest, and specifically at a point where Levi would be home. If we trashed his place but at the wrong time, he would vanish underground and we'd never find him again. It had to be just right, and we had only one chance.

Me and Brandon decided to carry out the attack at night, in the early evening actually, as we learned that he was to be meeting the police chief to endorse a new action plan to clean up the drugs and vice in the seedier parts of the city. A short dinner and he'd return home, exactly when a change of the guards was to take place. The whole building was essentially his but we didn't want anything to spill out into the street or to involve civilians. There were enough dead already, following the daytime attack at the stadium. The papers had covered that extensively, more than a hundred innocent people dead and even more in the hospital from the stampedes and gunfire. São Paulo's star soccer player, dead. The stadium, ruined beyond immediate repair. The city was reeling because of this, and we had to finish it before it got too big for us.

We had very little gear left, the sniper rifle Brandon had was pretty much all the offensive cover he could provide. I didn't want him ending up as another corpse so I put him on sniper duty again, much to his disdain. I used the last of our meagre funds to buy a grapple launcher that could travel the distance between our points. From the roof we'd set up on, I'd travel across as the guards were changing shift, hopefully avoiding detection. From there, I'd work my way inside and attempt to disable the security, after which I could eliminate the guards to my heart's content as a set up for Levi's return. Of course, this was all just a plan, and I was just a washed up detective guided by a former military man. Thankfully Brandon was really good at what he did, so I followed mostly his word, guided by my own instincts. This was going to go smooth, hopefully.

The night approached. We set up on the agreed roof. I prepared the grapple launcher while Brandon got to work scoping out the place. True enough the guards were going about their routine just like, well, their routine. So far so good. I adjusted the aim of the grapple so it'd go where I wanted it to go: at the balcony overlooking the city. I'd climb in from there and disable the security myself, although that consisted mostly of cameras and a security room with one lone guard. The cams were the biggest issue. I was alone there, no help other than from Brandon. Getting caught meant the whole thing went tits up. Plus the guy manning surveillance obviously wouldn't be a total idiot, so trying to bluff my way around the cameras would be stupid. That left me one option: to do everything as quick as I possibly could. Leave everything down to the last second. Once Levi got home, I had a roughly three minute window to reach the damn place, eliminate resistance and then lie in wait for my target. Sounded impossible. Brandon assured me it was doable.

"Trust me Daniel. In my former job, we had to plan operations down to the wire, just like this. If you focus and keep your mind to it you'll be able to reach that target, no sweat. Just be ready on that line when I spot him, and once he reaches the apartment I'll signal you to go."

Well he was the one with experience. I took his word for it. So we waited. I went over the whole plan in my head over and over again to pass the time, trying my best not to panic at the fact that I was going to attempt the task of pulling this off without a hitch. When the time did come, Brandon laid a hand on my shoulder, rousing me from my brief nap.

"Alright man, it's go time. He's approaching the block, so get that grapple ready."

I nodded and prepared the launcher, making sure it was angled just right. At his go, I activated it and watched as the metal hook soared soundlessly across the gap, extending a length of cable behind it. I backed up and readied the last gadget we'd obtained: a motorised winch. With it in hand I readied myself to jump. Wasn't a very calming thing, knowing that if I missed I'd end up as a smear on the pavement. The hook travelled the distance and reached its destination, and the automatic retraction pulled the cable taut as the hook clanged rather noisily against the handrail. I pushed everything from my mind, ran forward, and jumped.

I reached my hand out and grabbed for the cable. I felt it connect with metal and I held on tight, trying not to let go from the swaying of the cable and all the wind. My other hand shot up and attached the winch to the cable and I clicked it on, the motor pulled me straight across the cable like an arrow as I held on for dear life.

On the street below, Levi's car pulled up at the apartment entrance. He stepped out.

Time was ticking.

I reached the other side and stopped myself by bracing against the glass and steel underneath the balcony. As I climbed up, I saw the guard stationed there drop his jaw.

Time slowed.

I landed on the floor as his rifle was coming up. My hand shot out and pushed it back down while my other hand curled into a fist and struck him across the face. He stumbled back a little as I yanked his gun from him and tossed it to the floor. I backhanded him again and pushed him away with my free hand, stepping into his reach to grab his combat vest by the collar. I pulled him in and brought my forehead against his in a cruel headbutt, making him stumble back. In a daze, he half turned, back towards me, and I rushed in and grabbed him around the waist, arms wrapped tightly around him.

I saw this on TV once. Pay-per-view wrestling.

I braced and lifted him into the air, throwing myself backward and sending his head on a collision course with the floor. I barely heard things cracking as he landed, his weight on me as well, bringing me down hard on my back. I shook it off and leaped quickly to my feet.

Levi was just getting into the elevator up.

I ran inside as the cameras caught my image. The surveillance man must've thought I was nothing, because he was halfway out of his chair when I arrived. I used my momentum to crash into him, my shoulder against his gut as I carried him into the facing wall and let physics do the rest. My shoulder crumpled him in two, and as he was stunned, I grabbed him by the back of the head and slammed his face onto his desk, feeling his nose crumple under the impact. Still with my hand firmly on his head, I pulled him back upright and slammed him against the wall, then I bashed my shoulder into his chest and sent him down onto the floor with a punch.

Levi reached his apartment and stepped out of the elevator and into the hall.

I made it in the time limit. The guards were still being changed, so the two up here were expecting no backup until the replacements arrived. Most likely they were coming up with Levi.

I went to the downed soldier and searched him, finding his combat knife rather easily. I took it and grabbed the other guy's knife too. With blades at the ready, I stood at the front door. The guards had to go first to establish the area as safe, so I expected them. And how right I was, the double doors opened and two guards greeted me with confused stares.

I returned the greetings by jamming my knives into their throats and pushing them back as they fell, limp and soon to be dead. Behind them stood Levi, shocked at my sudden appearance.

Time returned to normal.

I grabbed him by the tie and hauled him into the apartment, past that bodies that were bleeding out on the floor, choking and gurgling and bubbling. I threw him into a chair and made him sit there, unmoving, while I grabbed another chair and sat down in front of him. I shrugged and waved a hand in his general direction.

"So, how'd it feel, killing your brother? Feel normal? Like a regular day at work? Offing your kin like you would get a cup of coffee? And for what, money? Do you know how petty and foolish you look now? Your security, beaten by a lone man?"

I didn't dare to say how scared I had been at even attempting this. This was absurd even for me, yet Brandon okayed it like it was routine.

Levi stared at me like I was crazy.

"You think it was easy for me?"

"I didn't see you hesitate when you pulled that trigger. I guess I'm horrible at reading people."

He leaned forward a bit and glared at me.

"You have no idea how much I put on the line to get here. You think I wanted to kill him?"

I shrugged.

"Sure seemed like it."

He leaned back in his chair and scowled.

"You're a real smartass, Anderson. No wonder Morgan hired you."

"Comes from the place I live in. No place for a self-centered asshole like you, only the quick and smart survive there."

He sighed. This was getting nowhere. My plan extended to getting here and having Levi at my mercy. What I'd do to him...wasn't in the schedule. To be honest, my thirst for vengeance had mellowed considerably since the events of that night, considering I did cool off in the days that followed. We made plans but the fire in me cooled to a flicker come judgement day, and now it was more a question of getting things done rather than getting revenge. He could tell too, which is why he grew uncomfortable in his seat.

"Y-you are going to kill me, right?"

Kill him? Previously yes, now I wasn't so sure.

"Let me think about that."

I stood and paced the room for a while. Obviously it made Levi extremely nervous, I saw him squirming in his seat as I wandered around his apartment. Not once did he move, his fate apparently certain to himself. But did I want to kill him? I thought a while, then an answer came to me. I went back to my chair and sat, pulling it a little closer to him.

"So, Levi. I understand you've done a lot of horrible things to get where you are now, yes? Fraud, deception, and now murder?"

He didn't respond. I took his silence as affirmation.

"So it would be pretty fucking great if you died as justice, right?"

More silence. Perspiration beaded on his forehead.

"Well I'm in no mood to kill you now, so count yourself lucky."

Apparently Brandon heard that.

"What?!"

I stepped away from Levi, putting a hand to my ear.

"He deserves to die. But me killing him just doesn't feel...right."

"Well, alright. But what are you gonna do now?"

I thought for a second. In that second I had my answer.

---

I was busy packing my bag when Brandon came to me, phone in hand.

"Y'know, you could've told me."

I was puzzled.

"About what?"

"I just got off the phone with Irena. She said something about the will?"

Whoops. I'd meant to tell him about the changes to the Wright family will, but in my haste to get out of the damned country I forgot.

After I left Levi be, I called the cops, specifically calling in a favour Abayya had when he was still alive, citing the usual 'he would've wanted it that way' as the main reason. I told them about the whole mess and how it should be cleared. Levi was subsequently arrested for the slaying of his brother, as well as the two mercenaries he'd shot. He was also asked to pay damages to the Tiente family for him dying in the crossfire, and the money was still something, rather than nothing. Lucas would still never see his dad again. I gave them the locket and crucifix I had, told his mom it was a parting gift from him, and left it at that. Meanwhile, the Wright family received their share of money from the old man's death. Since two of the original benefactors were not available, the bulk of the funds were given to James instead, who decided to keep Morgan's poverty assistance scheme afloat since it was drawing considerable income and popularity. Last I heard, he'd invited the Tiente family to stay in one of the apartments instead of their dingy shack in the favela as a bit more recompense for Abayya. Totally free. No frills. Groceries, bills and transport provided for too. The least he could do in memory of Abayya. James then released the two of us from duty, saying that since the trouble was over, he didn't really need guards any more. He was convinced that he didn't need much protection, how much help he was providing to the poor. He was right.

I recounted all this to Brandon, who was all too relieved that the worst was over. He'd agreed at my decision to go back to the States, saying that the heat from the Italians was as good as gone by now.

Besides, I had wanted to go back. I missed my home. Not as much as I missed them, but home held my memories of them.

I missed them so much.

It was in November of 2013 that we left Brazil and returned to Manhattan.