Michael was less than a block away from his destination. He had spent the last hour trying to get through the abnormally cramped streets of Valencia Spain. Thankfully he wasn’t burning up in the heat. A cool coastal breeze was brought alongside the high hanging golden sunlight and a clear blue sky. He had gotten here by taxi, being directed to arrive at a nearby café by his longtime friend, Alexander Maine. It gave him good reason to walk around town and get rid of the sore sensation he had in his legs.
Just seeing the café above a wave of people going about their day, Michael felt a small smile grow on his face as he saw Alexander sitting alone at one of the tables slowly scrolling through his phone and enjoying a glass of whiskey. He knew the man had a knack for drinking following his time in the Submarine Force. He always jumped on the opportunity, seeing if he could get a chance to hear a sea story over an alcoholic drink.
As he reached a cross walk, he took a confident step forward—
And was pulled back by a burly man as a motorcycle blazed passed almost taking him out.
“Hey, American, be careful.” Looking up at his savior, Michael felt a twinge of fear as the 6’3’’, bearded Spaniard man adjusted his coat and walked across the crosswalk disappearing amongst the crowd.
“Thanks?” His voice felt shallow before he continued to cross the street finally arriving where Alexander was; the blonde-haired man shot a sly smile. He had witnessed the entire display.
“And as I live and breathe,” Downing the last of his whiskey, Alexander stood up and spread out his arms, “If it isn’t the finest kid I’ve ever met!” Adjusting his sports coat and walking around the stained wooden railing around the outside seating area, Alexander reached out his hand and dragged Michael into a tight embrace as he rubbed the top of his head.
“Hey! I’ll have you know I just turned 20, Alex!” Michael countered.
They both were beyond the point of hiding that they were Yanks. Alexander’s voice alone was boisterous enough to draw the attention of a nearby table full of women. They all giggled and whispered amongst each other as Alexander continued to make a show out of their reunion. After a swift pat on the shoulder, his fellow American brethren guided him with sharp words back to the table. As they both sat, Michael watched as Alex whipped out a copy of The New York Times and called for the waiter to bring himself another glass of whiskey and red wine for Michael. As Alex continued his typical greetings of talking about his life—leaving no room to spare for the man sitting across from him—Michael took the time to enjoy the mid-summer city he was enveloped in. He was comfortable being pegged as a tourist by the locals. It gave him a level of innocence that allowed him to see bright and beautiful coastal city with all it had to offer.
Settling and letting his gaze grow comfortable looking at the distant coastline from the hill, a large moving truck had pulled on the side of the road. The driver cut its engines and hopped out of the vehicle being met by what looked to be a storeowner from across the road. Michael was slightly annoyed by the sudden interruption, but he did take note of the driver who looked deathly pale as he fumbled with a clipboard to give the storeowner.
“So how was the trip over here, Mikey?” Alex asked drawing him back to the conversation that had been ensuing for the last five minutes.
“Not bad. I finally got around to sharing my piece in the magic convention they had in Barcelona.” He said with a growing smile. “Where you able to catch up on that?”
“The magical theory shit?” Alex said as he took another swig from his new glass. “Yeah, I was able to call an associate of mine over there. He’s the one working on the stuff for the military.”
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“The one from DARPA, William was his name?” Michael inquired.
“Nah, it’s my old buddy Tim from my boat.”
“The USS Interceptor.”
“First of the line!” Alex smiled.
Alex continued to speak about his friends in high regard as he slowly lowered the level of his second glass of whiskey in the span of five minutes. Mikey knew that the man was simply happy to see him again after over a year of intermittent contact. The two had been travelling the world: Nepal, Scandinavia, China, Kuwait. They had scattered to the wind in the hope of searching for the magical device that they were contracted to find; a siphon that capable of storing pure magical energy. The company that had hired them, the Deep Ocean Corporation, was intending to use this new technology to be the basis for new energy production methods for prolusion in naval vessels and spacecraft.
Being here in Spain was both a chance to discover where the whereabouts of the siphon was, and why it was in route to Barcelona. The two men were nothing more than businessmen who were given 3 million dollars to seal a deal and by the patents for the device. If they couldn’t physically, have it, then they would just get the ingredients list.
Finally picking up the rose-tinted glass in front of him. Mikey held it in front of his face as he swirled the crimson liquid in a gentle circle. He did it due to a distant memory, one of his father that was slowly fading from his memory. His family was all but gone. Killed long ago in his childhood at an age he couldn’t remember. Alexander was his only true family; someone he had met while being tossed through the adoption system. For now—however long this was—he could only wish for this moment to last as long as it—
RATATA!
Mikey felt the air from his lungs slip out as he watched in silence. Just across from him the table of women jumped as a hailstorm of bullets began to fly over the café lot. Stray lead rounds pierced men and women making heads pop like crushed grapes and splatters of pink blood be shot high into the air. From the back of the shipping truck, four men with rifles and shotguns unleashed horror onto the crowd with the driver turning around outstretching an arm, a harsh red pulse of energy engulfing and charring his skin.
“Alex—!” Being pushed down by the Submariner, Mikey watch a flash of golden light run across Alexander’s hazel eyes. In that very same moment, he watched as the man’s right arm expand into a gargantuan pulsing tumor. The pain was unbearable for Alex as he a feral cry as his arm burst creating a storm of crimson blood that fell upon Mikey. Collapsing onto the table making the weak metal legs snap under his weight, Alex managed to look up at the boy next to him. He wore a hollow smile as he finally slumped onto the concrete slabs below him. Bright pink blood shimmered in the golden sunlight as Alex laid in place, slowly taking in breaths.
Holding his ringing ears, Mikey turned his head to the left. A police car had stopped around the corner and three officers rushed forward with their handguns withdrawn. The first officer—the youngest amongst the group—instantly brought his pistol up and fired five bullets into the of one of the gunmen. The 9mm slugs threw the man back, the entry wound in his head leaked blood as he collapsed over in the back of the truck, dead.
“Magicians?” Mikey whispered as he stared as the leading officer reached out his left hand and formed an enormous shield of water. The man shouted orders at any remaining civilians that were still alive, and one-by-one they all began to take cover behind the officer as the others returned fire slowly picking off the terrorists. Looking at the officer once more, Mikey’s hazel eyes widened as he realized the man was shouting at him gesturing with his head to get behind the shield.
Without thinking he stood up…
And instantly caught a bullet to the chest.
Feeling instantly dizzy as a searing, agonizing pain permeated from his ribs, Mikey felt himself gasping for air as he slowly stumbled back collapsing on the same table that Alex had fell on moments ago. Blood quickly seeped into his button-down shirt turning the fabric a deep red. He remained resting against the table feeling colder and weaker by the second. The gunfire had ceased, and all he could still here in the haze that fought to overtake his mind was the constant screams from those around him and the barking orders of the officers that aimed to contain the situation.
At the corner of his eye, he saw Alex motionless beside him. Reaching out a shaking hand, Mikey placed it upon his shoulder giving him a slight push.
Letting out one final wheeze, he succumbed to his exhaustion and the gaping hole in his chest. Despite still breathing, he felt his eyes clamp shut.