Dennis Raveley - chapter 18

Several thousand miles away from the cabin where Dennis is looking over the family tree while the rest of his new-found family argues about the legitimacy of the material around him, a meeting between two men is taking place in a locked room.
The room is part of a larger steel and cement complex that rents facilities for three hundred dollars a month, a rather cheap price in times of an economic crisis. The room is walled by tones of gray, and the dimensions of the prism are hard to distinguish by anyone short of a twenty-twenty vision. An iron table is placed right center of the room, which is almost perfectly cube shaped. Two plastic seat chairs are positioned opposite each other and on these two chairs sits the two men, both are in neat, black two-piece suits, but other than that, they are vastly different in appearance.
The man sitting on the chair facing west is in his forties, lines crisscross his deeply agitated face. On closer examination, it may be interpreted that he is a family man, married only once, and has been faithful for the most part. This man, named Mr. Vernon, is trying to explain an important situation to his companion, the figure seated facing east.
Mr. Vernon's counterpart is much younger, in his late twenties, though his face suggests a depth of character wise beyond his years. This man's most prominent feature is a disengaged frown, his natural facial pose; an expression he displays at the moment. In a keen gaze, this man may be perceived to be single, intelligent, subtle, and all-knowing, all prominent features of a man who works behind the stage, wielding the strings of a manipulator.
Mr. Vernon has just finished making a point, it will now be shot down by the younger man.
'The principle you must understand, my good colleague, is that you can serve only one of two masters, one of them you must travel far and away to reach, the other, quite frankly, is already in you.' The younger man's voice is a raspy, often eerie sound, it is the voice of a chain-smoker, but all his close associates know he doesn't smoke, it is as if the maker has destined this peculiarity to the young man to mark his identity.
Mr. Vernon is about to interrupt, the younger man cuts him off.
'Now, let me finish, it's a matter of convenience to decide which master you should serve, but if you're willing to go out of your way to serve the faraway master, be my guest, I won't stop you, I can't stop you, everyone is entitled to free-will, as the master made it so, but how do you suppose your other master will think of this deed?' The younger man raised his eyebrows.
Mr. Vernon is growing increasingly uneasy, he is meddling with his fingers, perspiration clings to his forehead, he drums up the courage to speak again.
'He will protect me.' He utters. In the face of such pressure, Mr. Vernon is confronting the manipulator with diligence, though that is quickly fading away.
'He? How should we know it is a he? Is it incorrect to call he an it? And not to mention, your new master is not surprisingly absent, in this world at least.' The younger man raises his hands, as if to embrace Mr. Vernon from across the small table.
'He is omniscient.' Mr. Vernon corrects.
'It's a He again! It's always a He! Why is that? You do not know either, I see. Anyway, we go back to the present question, what will your other master think of this, shall we say, change of heart?'
'The Lord is my shepherd!' Mr. Vernon shouts hysterically.
'Ah, the famous phrase, but only in the next life, Mr. Vernon, only in the next life.' The younger man gets up from his chair to stretch and simultaneously, the only door, almost obscured by the dull, identical color to the wall opens and a young woman enters. She shares many similar features with the young man, namely the identical natural frown.
'Chelsea's here, let's crack open the briefcase.' She announces with a flat, mildly bored voice a quip lighter than the young man's raspy one, but nevertheless desaturated of any cheerfulness.
'Right on time.' The young man checks his watch and says, then to Mr. Vernon, 'stand over there where the plastic sheet is spread, close your eyes.'
'No! You're mad! You're irrational!' Mr. Vernon shouts wildly, he forgets that he is still seated in his chair.
'No, no, you've misunderstood me, I'm only bringing you closer to the end of your journey, it will save you the walking distance.' The young man produces a silenced pistol from the inside of his jacket. 'And about your entire family, you can count on me too, you won't have to wait for them, I promise.' Before Mr. Vernon can run for the exit, the young man raises the weapon and shoots him, point blank, the bullet enters Mr. Vernon's forehead in a clean shot, almost bloodless. Mr. Vernon slumps forward onto the table.
'More blood on your hands than in most people's bodies.' Isla remarks.
'Spilling blood is only good as there's a good reason behind it.' Brian replies.
'All reasons, even no reason is a good reason to people in various degrees of depravity.' Isla smiles pitifully.
'That is the flaw of human philosophy.' Brian returns the pitiful smile.
It is unaccustomed in the old times for the command of an echelon to conduct executions themselves. They leave henchmen to do the so-called 'dirty work', but it is only through expressing violence oneself that satisfaction and reason can suffice, such is the principle of the infamous Wyatt twin-command, as they are dubbed.
Brian and Isla walk out of the room briskly and closes the door behind them. The light shuts off, and for now Mr. Vernon's body rests - hopefully in peace - in a temporary morgue of a room.

Dennis Raveley - chapter 17

'What?' Dennis says, surprised as ever.
'You heard me, I may be smart, but not so smart as to track down a potential long-lost brother. That's my prodigal kid sister's interest.' Jerry shrugs and rubs his hands, 'I wish my vio is here with me, I can really use some Mark Isham to clam down, I still have a bit of adrenaline in me, I think I'm going to go outside and shoot at some trees to get rid of it.' He makes a motion to get up.
'Wait, what are you saying? I don't understand.' Dennis puts on his bewildered facial expression, he gets up too from his chair.
'I'm not so acquainted with my sister's ploy either, she just told me to expect a guest she sent for and then you came along, it takes a fool not to recognize your resemblance to me, a greater fool to not recognize the attitude. I didn't know you until I saw you at the Spacescrapper.' Jerry says, quite nonchalantly. 'I expect they will arrive here in...about now.'
Kenny jumps into view from the corridor at the far side of the living room, a rifle aimed shoulder level at Jerry and Dennis, shouting, 'Hands up!'
Jerry raises his hand and joins them at the back of his head, not surprised. 'Ah, perfect timing.'
'The door was kicked in!' Kenny exclaimed, lowering the rifle to his side.
'Yes, I did forget to ask Raymond for the keys, and better put, yes, he did forget to give it to me.' Jerry says, indicating that it is not his fault. 'Plus, entering through the window is completely below me.' Kenny's expression is a mixture between relief and rapidly blooming annoyance. Jerry begins to laugh, as Karla enters with Addy leaned against her.
'You,' Karla says, pointing at Dennis, 'go outside and bring the chair in.' She commands. As Dennis turns towards the door to fulfill this order, Karla calls out after him, 'And the rest of the bags too!'
Dennis complies and goes outside to retrieve Addy's wheelchair, puzzled and feeling unimportant, as he had been all his life, mostly.
When he returns, sitting in the wheelchair itself with the two duffel bags stacked on him and wheeling into the living room, Kenny is urgently communicating with Addy in sign language, Jerry walks over to retrieve the bag with his viola in it, and Karla yells for Dennis to get out of the wheelchair.
Jerry unearths the viola and bowl from his bag, tunes it, and begins to play a light melody in flats.
'Will you stop that, now is not the time for fiddle music.' Karla shakes her head, telling Jerry.
'Alright, fine! I'll go in the other room.' Jerry leaves for the bedroom door.
'Not now! You're part of this too!' Karla says.
Thoroughly annoyed, Jerry puts down his instrument. 'If by this family map that Herman went through all that trouble dying to send us we happen to not be related, I'll violate and stab you personally with my bowl.' Jerry says curtly with a touch of humor; Karla does not find this funny.
'It's called a family tree.' Karla adds, giving Jerry a defiant look.
'In all the differences between me and Raymond, you're certainly one thing that we both share a common opinion on.' Jerry begins to say, 'On of these days...'
'I have the tree here! Shall we proceed?' Kenny says, loudly. The argument comes to an end.
'In this family, Ken-Ken, throwing insults at cousins is I believe a tradition.' Jerry retorts, but nobody adds anything to that. Jerry and Dennis join Karla and Addy at the table, as Kenny unfolds a large, yellowed sheet of paper. The paper takes up the entire surface of the table, it is a family tree of seven generations of the Wyatt family, the name written in cursive at the top left-hand corner.
'So only Addy has seen this up til now?' Jerry asks, letting out a whistle.
'Yes, and Herman claimed it is completely accurate.' Karla says.
'Look, all our names are down in the seventh row, and look at that, if it isn't Dennis!' Jerry points to the name in between the boxes containing the names Jerry and Adelaide, sure enough, there is Dennis' name, it is unboxed. Below Jerry's name, in smaller fonts is the name Jerome in brackets, followed by a question mark. 'Well look at that, even I don't know if my name condensed or given.' Jerry continues to scan the bottom portion page, he speaks again, 'Wait a minute, it says here I'm your brother,' He looks at Dennis, who can offer no consolation or explanation himself. Their and Addy's lines are stemed from Harold and Irene, not Raymond and Chelsea's parents Karen and Gregory.
'You're not Karen and Gregory's children either,' Karla notes, and then she notices another peculiarity, 'And where's Kenny?'
Addy silently pointed to the right-hand edge of the page, Kenny's name is there, it is boxed, but not connected with any of the other names of the family tree.
'You're adopted?' Jerry asks, puzzled.
Kenny is speechless too.
Addy tugs Kenny's shirt, he looks at her and asks, 'Did Herman really say this is legitimate?'
Addy speaks in sign language. Karla translates, 'It is, but it's supposed to be unfinished.'

Dennis Raveley - chapter 16

Half an hour later, Jerry and Dennis are flying over a densely forested, mountainous countryside enveloped by a layer of thick fog, the sky has turned from a mild orange to gray, and the helicopter is dropping altitude. Jerry still has not answered Dennis' question, he only said, 'I don't know the entire ploy either.'
The helicopter stops in midair above a clearing in the forest, and begins to lower itself towards the landing pad below marked only by a circle of white, obscure paint thirty meters in diameter. It's a miracle the pilot manages to see the landing site midst all the gray and fog of the site. Steadily, it touches ground and the propellers stop.
Jerry and Dennis gets off the helicopter and Jerry walks without looking back, the helicopter takes off again and is soon consumed by the fog. Dennis sees the helicopter off and follows Jerry.
Not far from the landing pad there is a log cabin constructed of dark woods, it stands aged but well maintained in contrast to the wild surroundings, and has gotten a new coat of paint recently. Jerry climbs up to the porch and opens the wooden front door with a horizontal kick to the handle. 'I forgot to ask Raymond for the keys.' He says, and goes in without hesitation.
Dennis has no time to express his opinion on the peculiarity of this situation, he simply follows Jerry into the cabin.
The interior, from Dennis' point of view, is a cool, shaded place. All the furniture are the same color as the walls that made the cabin; there is no dust. Jerry opens the blinds of a window in the small living room, letting in a slight beam of colorless brightness, diluting the cabin's darkness. He does nothing else to better the condition of the cabin.
Jerry sits back on a lawn chair, and says, 'You know, there's a strong possibility that we're related.'
'How so?' Dennis asks, unsure whether he should agree or disagree.
'For instance, we both have dark hair, and Addy too, I think we three ought to be siblings.'
'I'm not surprised.' Dennis says, he takes a seat opposite Jerry.
'How so?' Jerry repeats Dennis' earlier question.
'My mother told me a few times that I have at least one other sibling, but she wasn't very sure of that either.'
'There you go! Another similarity between us two.' Jerry leans in closer, 'Here's the question, have you ever felt a lack of feeling?'
'You mean a lack of feeling towards other people?' Dennis asks.
'Towards even the most intimate of your relations.'
'Yes, I think so.' Dennis is thinking back on the many times he's been sent to the principal's office at a number of schools for lacking friendliness and companionship, apparently it is viewed by the teachers as a form of hostility. He finds that very amusing.
'Then we are definitely related, and since we are, we ought to acquaint each other with the peculiar story of our lives, here's the deal, you will tell me your history, and I will exchange with mine, and shed some light on the Wyatt family. Though that will not directly answer the question 'what's going on?', alright?' Jerry looks to be positioning himself for an interrogation.
'I guess there isn't an option two anyways.' Dennis says to himself.
This is the history of Dennis Raveley (according to him):
Dennis was born on a cold October morning, he has no memories of his childhood other than being alone for prolonged periods of time during his youth. Without the company of any toys, he was taught to read plenty instead. Dennis' mother is named Irene, who married his father, named Harold Raveley, and as far as Dennis can remember, Harold was never there. Growing up, Dennis was cared for by a nanny, often for weeks on end, because he was told that both his mother and father held important positions in a large business corporation, and had no time for him. This explanation was satisfactory for Dennis, who never needed much caring for. When he was seven years old, his mother quit her job rather suddenly and took up another of less ambition, so she could be closer to him. This change lasted for two years, when Irene became ill and passed away. Before she died, Irene told Dennis that his father Harold will one day appear and explain everything to him when he could understand, and that he should wait for the day when a car will pick him up and take him to somewhere far away; that will be the day. Dennis thought it was a fairly good fairytale at the time, so he committed it to memory. Irene also told him that he wasn't the 'only one', so the thought of having a sibling or two was also something to look forward to that day when Harold comes (though he did not know how it was possible). Dennis was left in the care of social services, because reportedly he had no relatives. All this time, Harold did not show up. The next six years of his life were spent in several foster homes, and that was that, until the fairytale came true...sort of.
Jerry does not ask for elaborations during this narration other than to tell Dennis to continue when he stops to expect a question that does not come. Next, he tells his story:
Jerry had always been identified as a member of the Wyatt, a rich 'bedrock' family spanning several generations. He is the fifth of seven siblings in this order; Brian, Isla, Chelsea, Raymond, Jerry, Kenny, and Addy. They are the children of Karen and Gregory Wyatt, who has since divorced the family and is believed to be remarried. Karen Wyatt went missing when Jerry was eight years of age, and a competitor of the Wyatt family, the McMurphy family was believed to have taken part in the disappearance. Jerry rarely sees his eldest brother and sister (the twins), who are always abroad and busy managing the family's fortunes. Early on in his life, Jerry understood that because his family are powerful people, they have many enemies and are frequent targets of assassination attempts, such as the one by which Addy became paralyzed. Jerry does not go into detail about the precise trade of his family, though he does say it is not entirely legal in international law, nor is it moral by standards of humanity. Jerry grew up as part of the younger five of the seven Wyatt siblings, learning self-defense and methods of fighting along with Chelsea and Raymond as training for events of assassinations, and discovered their shared musicality thanks to Raymond. Soon, the Nuts Strings Quintet was formed. The assassination attempt today, Jerry explains, is the first that's happened while the siblings are in disguise, which is a sign that certain secrets are being leaked, and certain enemies are on the offense.
'You did answer the 'what's going on?' question,' Dennis points out, 'Addy told me as I arrived at your mansion that my father works for your family. Your family must run a huge corporation, if assassins are worth it.' Jerry nods.
'Further questions?' Jerry raises an eyebrow.
'Did my father Harold send for me to be picked up?'
'No actually, Addy did.'

Dennis Raveley - chapter 15

The helicopter hovers across the gray afternoon sky, without sound coming from the spinning propellers. Jerry is wiping the blood away from his hands and cleaning the gun in the process. He looks out of the window now and then, apparently at nothing, a while later, Jerry fixes his gaze on Dennis.
'You didn't expect people to shed that much blood when they get shot, did you?.' Jerry starts off. Dennis meets his gaze with puzzlement.
'That's what I thought when Addy took the bullet, it was a direct hit in the spine, for a target-missed shot, the fellow couldn't have nailed it better.' Jerry continues to work away at the gun, 'You know what, I'll tell you that story, we got the next thirty minutes.' He checks his watch as he speaks.
'So one fine afternoon when I was twelve years old and addicted to Dungeons and Dragons, there was a garden party at the villa (I'll show you the place someday), a lot of people where invited and pretty much all the men were in two piece suits and all the women in cocktail dresses. Unlike Ray, I had neither the hormones nor the curiosity to hide under a table and peak at some woman's underwear, so I stayed indoors most of that time and played away with my little screen. Occasionally I would look out the window to see when the guests would be leaving, but no such luck, not during my span of patience they weren't. And then my sister found me all isolated and alone so she forced me to go outside and greet the guests. The moment I walked out onto the porch one of the guys standing at the far side of the garden pulled a long stick (what I thought it was) from behind his back and to my astonishment, his stick made a loud crack. You can guess he forgot to put the silencer on, that would have been more professional, but every time whoever tries to kill one of us siblings they always send amateurs, as if they're executing the children of a common smuggler. Everyone was surprised, they ducked and some of the more heroic gentlemen leaped and body-slammed the women (it was the comic highlight of the event, even as serious as this was). I ducked too, because I recognize the sound of a rifle when I hear it, the sound was exactly like the one you'll hear right before a duck falls out of the sky with a bullet in it. The only person who didn't hear anything was Addy, as you can guess. Sitting alone, working on a Rubik's cube, back turned, being born deaf does have its shortcomings.'
Dennis finds the story familiar, but the manner by which Jerry tells it he finds rather disturbing.
'That amateur hit man who acted first (yes, there were quite a few of them) missed his shot completely. He was aiming at my sis, who was ushering me out, but by what the circumstances suggest, he probably took out the guns a couple seconds too early, and his aim was disastrous, thirty degrees lower than target, at least, it would have been a good story to laugh about among hit men, if it had gotten out (it didn't).' Jerry is finished cleaning the gun, he puts it on a tray beside him and is silent for a few moments.
'And that's that, my little sister took a bullet for my big sister, I was a contender too, but bullets don't like to hit me, experience proved my theory correct. It is true, the enemy's bullets avoid certain individuals because those people have valiance and virtue to protect them, others, such as myself, we're too immoral for mortal weapons to penetrate.' Jerry rubs his palms together and says,
'After that episode, Addy got her wheelchair. It was odd, no other person was harmed that day, they were either killed or not, not a scratch or done for, the fight was brief. All the perpetrators being dead made it more difficult to track down the poor fool who ordered it on the orders of the real mastermind who will never be known. My brother suspects it's McMurphy's doing, but that was never proven and McMurphy's no fool to admit it outright. The suspicion still holds and one day my brother hopes to see McMurphy executed before his eyes, with him gone, there will be one less player of the world. Anyways, we did track down the relatives of those hit men, who had been informed that their son or father or cousin or sibling died in a motor accident. To send a warning to all the other hit men operating in the world, we told the families what actually happened, whether they believed it or not, and then we executed them, every member of every family, not that the mastermind could care less, just for kicks.' Jerry is about finished with the tale.
'One other thing, I went up to the body of that hit man who fired first after the shooting and saw that his head, though half gone, still had sweat clinging to the surviving half, so indeed he was amateur and nervous, I couldn't blame him, he made an unfitting assassin.'
'What about everyone else?' Dennis asks.
'Everyone who?' Jerry replies.
'Raymond and Kenny and Addy and Chelsea and Karla, did we leave them behind?'
'Of course not,' Jerry chuckles, 'They went by car, Raymond just wanted you to have a safer ride so he chartered the heli, but the real reason is, you might not like Chelsea's stunt driving.'
'Stunt driving?' Dennis repeats.
'Yes, very nauseating, that's coming from personal experience too. By the way, did you see whether Raymond brought along the bazooka he said he would bring?'
'I didn't see, I was blindfolded.'
'Oh right!' Jerry acknowledges this with a nod, 'I don't remember details like that, it's a flaw I've never gotten around to fixing.'
A phone starts to ring. The pilot picks it up (unhooking it from the hood of the chopper) and gives it to Jerry without a word exchange, Jerry puts it to his ear. After listening for some time, he tells Dennis with the receiver still held to his face, 'I was right, Ray did bring along that bazooka he found. It was a spectacular sight, he reports, the old thing still works and the missile isn't that bad. It blew a car twenty feet into the air and into a roadside shop. The chase it done, I guess we'll wait for them there.'
Dennis takes a deep breath, he asks Jerry, 'Can I ask you a general question?'
Jerry hangs up without saying a goodbye, he gives the receiver back to the pilot. 'Ask away.'
Dennis waits for a beat, and then he says, 'What's going on?'