Dawn Of No Return—Pride Of The Secret

The doorbell rang. Grey Garrett, a tall, handsome, twenty-six years old with dark hair walked downstairs in his white pajamas. The sensor in the living room triggered the lights. He moved to the door and opened it to meet a big brown box. He raised his small brown eyes to see sheets of rain downing from dark clouds, the cold wind pressed against his fair skin and stole its way into the house.

Carefully, he looked at both sides, trying to spot someone, he saw nothing and stroked his beard. This somehow seemed normal to Grey because of who he worked for, and the kind of people he worked with. It wasn't the first time this had happened, and it definitely wasn't going to be the last. But the idea of him always being watched, but not knowing by whom always gave him the chills. It was the style of The Secret, which was the name of the organization and the persona he worked for.

He took up the box, went inside, the door closed behind him.

He set the box on the carpet and sat down before it. Opening the box, he found an envelope which he tore open and got out the letter, only to see a blank note. He thought this strange, set the envelope and blank note aside, rummaged through other things, and carefully set them on the carpet before the box.

The items he brought out were a black pen, a small dark military-grade earpiece, a pair of contact lenses, a black wristwatch, dark well-pressed suits which he kept next to him on the sofa, black shoes, scattered parts of an assault rifle, packs of armour piercing rounds, two silencers, dark masks, black gloves, a black remote, a laptop, and certain electronic wares he had never seen or heard of before in his life.

Grey picked up the supposed letter, looked at both sides but saw nothing, not even a clue, he held it in his hand wondering if there had been a mistake.

He got to his feet, carefully took note of each item, his gaze fell on the pen, he instinctively picked it up and sat down. The pen sure looked pretty much like every normal pen, but then Grey wrote with it on the plain envelope, and in that instance, the inked words vanished. He slightly jerked his head.

Something clicked on the body of the pen, a blue light blinked twice at the bottom. Next, a slightly echoing female voice came from the watch, saying, "Agent, Grey Garrett. Processing DNA registration. Mapping to satellite. Location, Narrion Estate, Port City, Rivers, Nigeria, Africa. Shadow branch of The Secret, The ghost unit. Assassin, world-class."

Grey was stunned, he didn't know if to speak to it, or just listen. Normally, he would get the permission to speak in cases like this, but right now, he had no clue what to do, so he stayed quiet.

The blue light that had initially blinked at the bottom of the pen fully came on this time, creating multiple laser-like beams that fell on the letter.

"Letter to agent," the voice continued. "Rendering words visible."

Grey saw words begin to appear on the letter, he was awestruck. All he could do was watch with open wide eyes.

"Words rendered." The lights went out, then a red light flashed twice.

"Pen armed," the same voice now came from the pen this time. "Please, keep away from strangers. Theft of this property could mean death to whoever is responsible. Mild usage by any other party won't indicate harm save they return it. Thank you for understanding. Please, proceed to read the letter."

Slowly, he placed the pen on the table, looked at it for a moment, then he picked up the letter and read.

Dear, Mr. Garrett,

You've been faithful, diligent, cautious, and unwavering when initially asked to relieve yourself of all weapons and not to return to your job. For your patience, and downright obedience, you've been singled out to become a member of the Pride.

This entails you'll be occasionally on ghost watch, but more actively on kill duty. You'll have a new job, and it would be anyone of your choosing.

The items you've received are for your assignments. And the pen, you mustn't always have it on you. There's a car waiting out front ready to take you wherever you want to go. But first, Miss Helen Walker requests your presence, and you meet with her in one hour.

Welcome to the Pride of The Secret.

Yours faithfully,

The Secret.

Grey kept the letter on the table not noticing the words vanish as he moved upstairs to his room to have his bath.

When he got out, he was in a dark suit, but he did notice one thing when he moved to wear his watch and military-grade earpiece. The letter was no longer there.

He didn't think this so strange, he moved outside to meet a black Cadillac Escalade waiting for him. He got into the back seat, and the car moved off.

A few minutes later, he was standing close to a staircase in a vast air-conditioned hall with so many people in black attires moving about. No one talked to anyone, all they did was execute various tasks and these they achieved in an orderly impressive manner.

Grey wondered who they were, admired their attentive focus for a moment, then his gaze moved to a wide flat TV screen hanging from the ceiling, he locked his gaze with it.

"The poor," a background female voice said amidst the displaying pictures taken of the poor and homeless, "like stray dogs and cats, scavenge for food in back alleys. They sort through the garbage of the rich, eke survival on handouts. Homeless, they shiver through cold nights on the streets, they've no place to lay their heads. Exposed to the weather, wet and frozen, they huddle in makeshift shelters. Nursing mothers have their babies snatched from them, the infants of the poor are kidnapped and sold. These poor go about patched and threadbare, even the hard worker goes hungry. No matter how backbreaking their labour, they can never make ends meet."

"Hello, Grey."

A female voice behind him brought his consciousness back to the hall since he was almost carried away with pity for what he saw, he turned, and his eyes met Helen Walker.