For Love Or Justice

Sitting in his dark office, Douglas Walter gazed at the picture of his sister and parents. It was an old photograph, shot years before their deaths. The old wrath rose in his chest as he tightened his fists. Ten years had passed since their deaths in that "accident," but Douglas was aware of the reality. It was not a coincidence. It was murder, orchestrated and carried out by a strong syndicate that appeared to be untouchable. Even if it were his last act, he swore to bring them down.

He brushed a hand through his dark hair and rose from his desk. His office walls were covered with old photos, notes, and newspaper clippings. They all came together to form the Syndicate. However, they had avoided him for years, always staying one step ahead of him. Douglas was unable to think about anything else and was unable to fall asleep. Seeking justice for his family has become his life's work.

He was ahead today. Simon Bennett was a name that kept coming up during his investigation. On the outside, Simon was a philanthropist who used his charitable endeavours to aid the city's impoverished. Douglas, however, wasn't persuaded. Too many of Simon's contacts had criminal connections, and too many of his business dealings appeared dubious.

Douglas grabbed his coat and whispered to himself, "Tonight." "I'll find something tonight."

Douglas parked his vehicle close to an old warehouse on an unoccupied lot. It was beyond midnight and late. Only members of the Syndicate's inner circle knew about the secret gathering he was tracking. Douglas had to find out for himself what sort of business this "charitable" man was involved in, and Simon Bennett was supposed to be present.

He approached the warehouse in silence, staying in the shadows. He saw Simon, with his bodyguards on either side, get out of a black sedan from a distance. Simon was tall, immaculately suit-clad, and exuded a sense of importance.

Douglas huddled behind a pile of containers and said to himself, "Stay hidden." Although he could see the action clearly, his position did not allow him to hear much. Men sat at a table inside the warehouse. Although papers were exchanged, Douglas could tell that it appeared to be a typical business meeting. Nothing unlawful is evident.

Simon stepped up and shook hands with a man. With a nice smile and a confident, silky voice, Simon added, "Thank you for your generous donation." "Many families will benefit from this."

Douglas scowled. A gift? He had been certain that this meeting would expose Simon's dubious nature. But all he saw was a man giving out charity money. This lead might have been another dead end. His security started guiding Simon back toward the car as he turned to go.

Frustrated, Douglas left before anyone could see him. He had anticipated finding evidence of Simon's Syndicate involvement, but instead, he discovered a completely innocent individual engaged in charitable work.

"Fuck it," Douglas muttered to himself. "He hides his tracks too well."

Doris Thomas, meantime, was running as fast as her legs would allow her to go across the city. She ran along a dark lane, her pulse thumping in her chest, her breath coming in short, urgent gasps. She was being pursued by males who were too near.

"Go get her! "One of them yelled." They were getting closer to her as their footsteps reverberated off the walls.

Doris struggled with her jacket pocket, her hands trembling. They sought something from her, something that might overthrow the Syndicate. However, she dropped the envelope in her haste. It slid beneath a dumpster and hit the ground.

"No! There was no time to pause, so she frantically whispered. The men nearly caught her.

She ran through the alley, swerving between old boxes and trash cans. She was unable to stop, even though her legs felt like they were about to give up and her lungs burned. Not right now. Not after all that she had witnessed.

A dead end. When Doris realized she had nowhere else to go, her heart fell. Her thoughts were racing as she crushed herself against the brick wall. Now she could hear the footsteps directly behind her.

One of the goons muttered, "Got you now," and entered the alley.

Doris's gaze flitted about, searching for a way out. However, there was none.

At the end of the lane, a man suddenly materialized. At first, Doris was unable to identify the man, but as the figure drew nearer, she recognized him from pictures she had seen of him while working for the Syndicate.

Walter Douglas.

Douglas surprised the attackers by charging forward them without saying a word. He punched one of them hard, causing him to crash into the wall. Douglas was quicker than the other when he attempted to draw a knife. He knocked the knife to the ground and wrenched the man's wrist.

"Go! Douglas yelled at Doris, but she was too stunned to move and was still.

As the final thug stumbled to his feet and attacked Douglas, Douglas sidestepped him with ease and kicked him quickly, knocking him out cold. Doris's ragged breathing was the only sound to break the silence in the alley.

"Are you all right? Douglas turned to Doris and inquired. Her eyes were big and panicked, and she appeared frightened.

"I... "I'm not sure," she stumbled. Her hands shaking, she looked at the men on the ground, unconscious.

A tiny flash drive protruded from her jacket pocket, which Douglas saw. His intuition took over. The Syndicate was somehow connected to whatever this woman was up to. He also required clarification.

"Who are you? Why did they pursue you? Douglas approached her and made a demand.

Doris's legs trembled as she stepped back. She appeared on the verge of passing out.

"I... I've got something. Something important," she said in a barely audible whisper.

Douglas's eyes narrowed. "What are you saying? What have you got?"

Her knees gave way before she could respond, and she fell asleep in his arms.

Douglas gazed down at her, conflicted between worry and annoyance. One thing was certain: this woman had information on the Syndicate. He had no idea who she was or what danger she was in. He was now squarely in the centre of it.

He looked back at the fallen thugs as he carefully raised her off the ground. She would continue to be pursued by whatever they worked for, and by saving her, Douglas had just made himself a target.