Black: The Eighth Wave

A Black fanfiction

By H.R.C. Stanley

Prologue - The Next Assignment

Date: 28th February 2006

Location: Classified

Underneath a dim, lonely and ageing light and the slow silhouetted blades of a ceiling fan, stood a wooden table with various photos and pictures scattered all over. On each side, two men sat facing each other, staring intensely. The elder man produced in his hands, a simple brown folder, opened it and read though the papers and contents within.

"Kellar, Jack, Sergeant First Class, Serial Number 7178412... Iran, Guatemala, Colombia, Croatia," the interrogator scanned through the file. "Very impressive."

"I know what you're trying to do, sir," the younger man in cuffs, identified as 'Jack Kellar', responded. "And it's not going to work."

"No, Sergeant Kellar," the interrogator interrupted. "You don't know what I'm trying to do; I'm here to clean up this mess... if you cooperate... If I walk out that door, everything you did will be declassified, you will be convicted, you will be discharged, you will spend the rest of your life in prison... Very well, Sergeant, have it your way."

The interrogator picked up the files, stood up and walked away into the darkness, leaving Jack behind in the bleak and uneasy silence.

"Wait," Jack raised his hand, breaking the brief quietness and grabbing back the interrogator's attention. "What do you want me to do?"

Without another word, the interrogator turned back and sat back down, pulling out and chucking a cigarette packet and lighter before the Sergeant. Without hesitation, he opened up the packet, took out a cigarette, and flickered up the lighter. The beating of his heart slowed as he breathed in the fire and out of his lung; his muscles made him a hundred promises of pain to come.

"Tell me everything you know about the Seventh Wave," the interrogator asked.

"Weapons dealers," Jack answered. "Heavy hitters dealing mostly in hi-spec former eastern bloc hardware; class beginning to include terrorist cells. The Seventh Wave were escalated to priority status after they took out nine Agency spooks. Coordinated executions..." his words paused as he coughed after another huff of raw, foul nicotine smoke. "...if anyone sees Seventh Wave, take them out with extreme prejudice. Intel zoomed in on three possible targets: Lancy was the boss, the other two were the muscles. Three teams were tasked for overwatch until it was time to take them out; I had one of those teams. Intel suspected that the Brits, Chinese and Israelis had teams in the areas, everyone were after these guys."

"Who was the fourth man?"

"Gunther, didn't think much of him at the time."

"What went wrong?"

"We got made... Lennox is dead, I killed him. You know what he said to me the first time we met? He said, 'Don't trust them'; I don't believe in coincidences either."

"They were right about you, Jack Kellar."

"Right about what?"

"Your predictability, you did everything the psychologists said you'd do."

"What the hell is going on here?"

"Lennox isn't dead yet, he's very much alive; and thanks to the mess you created, we can hunt him down without the Congress breathing down our necks. You've untied our hands."

"What are you talking about?"

"You're right, nothing is a coincidence, Sergeant Kellar. I'm going to destroy William Lennox and you're going to help me."

"But what about the charges? My trial?"

"You'll die in a fiery crash on your way to the hearing; as far as anyone's concerned, this fiasco will end with your death. You made it through, Sergeant, you crossed the finish line. A while back, you said you wanted to kill Lennox so bad you could taste it. Can you still taste it, Sergeant Kellar?"

"Yes..."

"Then let us begin..."

To be continued...