For nearly a full minute Lusana lay there motionless while the circulation slowly awakened his agonized limbs. He screwed up his eyes and squinted. It appeared to him that he was on the bridge of a ship. The red glow from above revealed a helm and large console dotted with multicolored lights that reflected off a long row of square windows embedded in three of four gray walls.

Above Lusana, still holding the hood in his hand, was a huge mass of a man. Looking like a distorted giant, from Lusana’s prone position on the deck, the man stared down from a kindly face and smiled. Lusana was not taken in. He well knew that most hardened killers flashed angelic expressions before slitting their victims’ throats. And yet the face on this man seemed strangely innocent of bloodthirsty intent. Instead, he exuded a detached sort of curiosity.

“You are Hiram Lusana.” The deep bass voice echoed against the steel bulkheads.

“I am,” Lusana answered hoarsely. His voice sounded odd to him. He had not used it in nearly four days.

“You don’t know how much I’ve looked forward to meeting you,” the giant said.

“Who are you?”

“Does the name Fawkes mean anything to you?”

“Should it?” Lusana said, determined to resist.

“Aye, it’s a terrible thing when you forget the names of the people you’ve murdered.”

A realization mushroomed within Lusana. “Fawkes … the raid on the Fawkes farm, in Natal.”

“My wife and children cut down. My house burned. You even

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slaughtered my workers. Whole families with the same skin as yours.”

“Fawkes … you’re Fawkes,” Lusana repeated, his drugged mind fighting to grasp a bearing.

“I’m satisfied the filthy business was done by the AAR,” said Fawkes, a subtle hardening in his voice. “They were your men; you gave the orders.”

“I was not responsible.” The fog was lifting from Lusana’s head and he was coming back on balance, inwardly at least. His arms and legs would not respond to command. “I’m sorry for what happened to your family. A tragic bloodletting that had no rhyme or reason. But you will have to look elsewhere to place the blame. My men were innocent.”

“Aye, a denial was to be expected.”

“What do you intend to do with me?” Lusana asked, his eyes without fear.

Fawkes looked out the bridge windows. It was pitch dark outside and a light mist coated the glass. There was a strange kind of sadness in his eyes.

He turned to Lusana. “We’re going to take a little trip, you and I, a trip with no return ticket.”

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