Decade (Introduction)

Introduction1

She looked upon the explosion with mixed emotions. She had made another huge leap in her mission. The building was in flames, along with the Secretary of State and several FBI agents. Everyday, she was getting closer and closer to her goal. It relieved her that soon, all of her hard work would pay off and no one would look at her in fear any more. They’d look at her with thanks. 2

But there was something inside of her that made her look upon the sight with hatred. Not just something. Everything. She was forcing herself to find happiness in this situation. So far, she’d been able to fool herself fairly easily. But with every person she killed, with every building she destroyed, with every threat she made, the veil that she had set over her eyes was being pulled off, little by little. She began to realize how monstrous she was acting. She couldn’t stand herself. At least, part of her couldn’t. 3

She could feel the ashes falling onto her head, blackening her snow white hair with soot. She was only thirty-two years old, but her hair was as white as a lily. It had turned that color naturally, a long time ago.4

Everyday, she tried to forget why it had, to no avail.5

The street below was deserted, but not for long. Someone was bound to have heard the explosion, there was no questioning that. She just wanted to revel in it a little longer, bask in the rising flames, love and loathe the moment to the fullest extent.6

She’d been in this position before. The other few times, she’d contemplated jumping off the rooftop she was perched upon. But what good would that do? All her hard work would be for nothing, that way. She needed to stay alive. She needed to finish what she started. 7

She just didn’t know how well that would work out.8

Her ears perked at the sound of footsteps stammering up the staircase that lead up to the rooftop. Crap, she thought. She couldn’t get caught. Everything would be over and done with, if she did. She’d gone to prison before. But that was years ago. By now, they would have beefed up security in prisons because of her, and it would be much more difficult to escape this time. Maybe even impossible.9

As the steps drew closer to the roof, she quickly put a hand on her hand gun that was in a holster on her right hip, and laid a finger on the trigger. She didn’t want to shoot if it wasn’t necessary. Whoever it was approaching might not have even been headed for the roof, and if she shot, she’d run the risk of blowing her cover. Plus, she didn’t want to kill an innocent bystander. She tried avoiding that as much as possible.10

The door to the roof top slowly creaked open but she kept herself in the same position. Get the jump on whoever it was by surprising him. Look like she’d cooperate and then bam! The sound of heavy boots echoed off of the cement of the ground as they stepped on to the roof. She stayed frozen.11

“Valerie?” she heard a man’s voice say behind her.12

She kept still.13

“Valerie Kerrigan?”14

Why is he using my old name? she wondered. Her name was Valerie Blackwell, now. Nobody knew her as Valerie Kerrigan. 15

“Are you Valerie Kerrigan?” the man asked again.16

She hesitated. “I was once. A long time ago,” she replied, finger still lightly on the trigger. 17

There was a pause as she waited for his reply. “I’m here for your help,” he finally said.18

She gave a cynical snicker. She’d waited long enough. She tightened her grip on her hand gun. “You need my help like a bullet to the brain,” she said.19

She spun around rapidly, pulling her gun out of the holster, aiming, and firing all within the blink of an eye. She saw the figure of the a man fall to the side, and at the same time saw the bullet pierce the air conditioning system that he had been standing in front of. Damn! Missed, she cursed. He was fast, but she saw that he was struggling to stand back up. She must have grazed him.20

He was finally able to stagger to his feet, and she was able to see that his pale face was caked in blood. A bullet graze wouldn’t cause that much bloodshed. He must have been wounded before, she concluded. She tried to examine his features behind his black bangs and the blood on his face.21

No, she thought once she examined him. Her eyes widened in surprise when she recognized him. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing.22

“Will?” she asked in astonishment.23

Will looked back at her. He looked terrible, but wonderful all at once. She hadn’t seen him for the longest time. “A sight for sore eyes” didn’t even begin to describe it. He had dark circles under his eyes, and sweat was dripping down his face, mixing in with the blood. He hadn’t aged a day since she’d seen him last, though. He was out of breath, probably because behind his torn black shirt, there were several deep gashes running on his chest. That looks nasty, she thought, but she was still stuck in shock.24

They looked at each other for what seemed like hours, not saying a word to each other, Will panting heavily. Between gasps, he was finally able to speak. “I need your help,” he rasped. “I need your help…so I can help you.”25

This can’t be happening, she thought.26

Will took a dangerous lurch forward and Valerie ran to catch him as he fell. He collapsed into her arms, flaccidly, front first. His head fell onto her shoulder, resting there contently. Ten years ago, she would have given anything for this. Him, falling into her arms, saying he needed her. She tried to cherish the moment as much as she could. But she still couldn’t wrap her mind around it all.27

“Why?” she asked her unconscious old friend. “Why are you here?”28