The Eye

XVIII

Steve

With that said, the agent disappeared into vapor. I couldn't see where he had traveled to, but next thing I know, all the women were gone.

One second they're all whispering quietly among themselves, the next, they've all disappeared like Agent Jackson.

The wall that used to separate the mafia men and kidnapped women was covered in ice. Awe overtook me as I observed the rest of the room.

From the ground up, ice was creeping up the walls, securing the room. The men inside started panicking and frantically banging on the ice covered walls.

Suddenly a notecard appeared from midair and floated slowly down into the lap of Dimitri Rerma. He cautiously picked it up and read it out loud.

"This is the calm, meet the storm..."

Instantly, as soon as the target finished speaking, the ice webbed wall shattered due to the force Agent Jackson exerted on it.

The Agent had appeared on top of it and drove his sword into it. Once his feet hit the ground, he charged.

His movements were fluid and smoothly finished. It was like watching a pro, not that I wasn't one, but he used all his weapons as if they were one.

He took his sword, and used it to deflect bullets, although that seemed impossible. Then the Agent would use that sword to disarm them of their guns.

When he was up close and personal with the mafia, he would use his short blade to stab them. Sometimes, if the enemy was too far for the sword, he would use his gun.

The ground would shake at random times and knock the opponent off their feet, and ice would jump off the walls, transforming into liquid.

The mafia would slip and their shot would go wild. Clint and I just watched in amazement as he fought single handily against thirty men.

That's when I noticed the oddness in his style. He would switch tactics and knock some men out, while killing others.

I was confused, and by the look that Clint gave me, along with the shrug of his shoulders, he had no clue as well.

All of a sudden, I saw Dimitri fire several shots from right behind Agent Jackson. The warning barely left my lips before he disappeared.

The room was empty of life, with the exception of Dimitri and his unconscious men. The mafia leader was the only one left standing.

Agent Jackson had disappeared once again to who knows where. Another notecard had fallen from the ceiling. The mafia man snatched it from the air, reading it out loud for none to hear.

"I spy, with my two sea-green eyes, something that's red..."

Suddenly, his chest spilled blood from the sword that impaled him. Agent Jackson stood in front of the man with a blank expression on his face as he pulled the silver sword out of the man.

The last thing the mafia man saw was the color of his own blood. He dropped to the ground, dead. Silence took over and I realized that within five minutes, the mission was completed.

I dropped from our ceiling hideout and approached the Agent. Clint followed, glancing around at the mess.

The ice had vanished, no sign of the broken wall, and all the men had been sorted into three piles.

The Agent was typing swiftly at the computer. His eyes not wavering from the lit screen as his fingers danced across the key pad.

I looked unsurely at Clint who wandered up to the computer. He peered over the Agent's should. Said person tensed up when Clint got too close for comfort.

"What are you doing?" Clint questioned, intrigued.

"I'm shutting down the Mafia." Was the curt reply.

"Why were you in the bank accounts?" Clint continued.

Growing curious, I approached the two. I came up on Agent Jackson's side. Although I was within his vision, his shoulders still tensed at my presence.

"See those piles of bodies?" Agent Jackson asked us.

We both turned to look. All the way to the right were all the unconscious. In the middle and left piles were deceased men.

"The people on the left have no family and were fully involved with the act of ruining lives for the worse. The ones in the middle were involved men with families that need support. The unconscious ones are people who were forced into the mafia and unable to get out."

"What does that have to do with the bank accounts?" I asked him.

Mentally I was praising him, that is very patriotic of him to not kill the innocent.

"Families will get money, as will the now free, unwanted men. I also sent some money to all the women. They've been sent back to their homes." Agent Jackson responded contently.

"How can you tell?" Clint questioned suspiciously.

In response, Agent Jackson present his middle finger which held the soul gem. Clint snorted, and mumbled something under his breath.

"Also, I can see." The Agent informed us.

"You're a good kid, Jackson." Clint stated, standing straight up.

"Twenty-one, not a kid." Agent Jackson replied with a small smile.

He stood up and pushed the chair in. The Agent walked over to us and placed each hand on our shoulders. Right before we vanished into vapor, the unconscious men woke.

Whispers and disbelief filled the air and grateful smiles appeared on their faces when they realized what had been done.

"It's The Eye..."

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