Sinless Warriors

Amelia

“They were two dangerous people,” I had been told constantly, every time my parents’ death came up. And they said it as if I wasn’t their firstborn, as if I couldn’t have broken their noses right in front of the judge and those worthless lawyers. I still couldn’t understand what force kept me motionless in that chair; maybe it was just the awareness that sooner or later, I would have the killer in my hands, and then prison would be my paradise, compared to the hell I had been living since they were no longer around.

I had looked each of them in the eyes: they were investigating poor souls just to cover the real culprit. I could read it on their faces; their greatest fear was not being able to feed their families from behind bars. They trembled from head to toe in front of all those idiotic speeches made by the men in suits and ties, while the real criminal roamed free, who knows where, after ruining my life forever.

And so one fine day, with the success of that well-scripted little play, the case was closed due to lack of evidence, not because that court was more corrupt than the Church in the 1300s, obviously.

I still remember Jason’s words, which once made me believe in justice, before the world gave me a thousand proofs that it can be bought. He had been my most loyal friend, and over time, he became my first love, the only feeling I was capable of after years of apathy. His, on the other hand, were the law enforcement, but not only.

“One day I’ll be an FBI agent,” he had said, puffing out his chest with pride. It was undeniable that he was cut out for that job, and I would cheer for him, even from a distance.

Life at the group home always carried a veil of sadness, reminding everyone, every single day, why they were there, and I couldn’t stand living with that shadow over me, with the memory of the family that had been taken from me while the perpetrator of my suffering was living his miserable life somewhere. Jason couldn’t blame anyone; his parents had abandoned him at birth, and he had come to terms with it, for him, it had been easier. But I had known them, I had loved them, and they had loved me, and my life had been perfect until I was eight, until that day.

Then, suddenly, the weight of adulthood hit me like a meteor, and I was no longer the same child who picked daisies. The vengeful fury ate at me day after day, and I was aware of it. I fought against this feeling all the time, because I wasn’t like that, I wasn’t a murderer, but sometimes bad things happen to good people, and from there, everything changes.

Jason, of course, didn’t know everything, at least I hadn’t exactly told him; I didn’t want to make him worry when he found my goodbye letter. He didn’t need to know why I had left. I would never have allowed him to counter his ambitions; I already had too many feelings of guilt, and for things I still had to do.

I knew that sooner or later our paths would take two completely different directions, though both would be in the name of truth and justice, it would be the ways in which we achieved it that would make the difference.

Jason

The roar of the bullets hitting the mannequin right in the chest was my favorite form of meditation. That’s how I managed my emptiness or the chaos around me, and at the same time, I prepared myself to face the dangers that came with my ambitions. I have never feared anything, especially not now that I can hit the target even with my eyes closed, with or without weapons.

Even now, with a room twice as big as the one I had at the group home and two hundred men under my command as Captain, I still couldn’t stop thinking about her and how many things had changed since we used to sneak out to go clay pigeon shooting.

I knew one day she would leave. She always left her notebook out in plain sight in her room, and inside it was everything, from her thoughts to her rants, and even actual plans, including the escape.

She didn’t want to talk to me about it, nor did she want to know if I was aware of those things. She wanted to protect me from herself, closing a door in my face, but despite that, she always left it slightly open for me.

She wanted me to enter her world willingly, quietly, and that’s exactly what I did.

And that was like an unspoken truth between us, a secret that was never discussed.

And I couldn’t just sit there and watch. I loved her too much to let anyone hurt her when that day came, so I taught her to defend herself, because only a fool would believe they could stop her, and I preferred that, when it came time to get our hands dirty, she wouldn’t have to risk her life.

“You need to hold it like this,” I told her softly as I shaped her hand around the gun’s handle.

She looked at me with wide eyes when I guided her arms towards the target and then pulled the trigger for her. That was the first time she had handled a firearm.

“How did you do that?” she yelled to drown out the shooting earmuffs, while her sapphire eyes expressed pure amazement.

I was only thirteen and already I never missed a shot. She was eleven and was just learning.

Yet, in one year, she had already become a worthy adversary of mine.

Together, we were unbeatable, so much so that they called us “the sinless warriors.”

One evening, after a resounding victory, she had dragged me outside, laughing uncontrollably.

“Did you see their faces?” she asked, leaning against the wall behind her.

My answer would have been a flat “no,” because I was too busy worrying about her not being able to stand, even though I couldn’t ignore how much more beautiful she looked in those rare moments when her face twisted into a spontaneous laugh like that. When she wrapped her arms around my neck, though, for a moment, my worry faded.

“Stop being so serious, Jason,” she whispered, suddenly calm again. Her raven-black hair danced on her bare shoulders, following the light breeze that had picked up with the setting sun.

“Listen to this. So, we have to pretend that I’m the boring one and you’re not drunk?” I said with a half-smile because it was stronger than me; when she was that radiant, so was I. At the same time, though, I hated that her carefree attitude was an exclusive gift of alcohol.

“I’m not drunk,” she pointed a finger at me, furrowing her brow. “It’s just that I’m happy we won.”

“But you always win.”

“And that’s why I’m always happy,” she retorted quickly, even though her reflexes should have been slower and duller, even from just one shot, since she couldn’t handle alcohol well, and I knew that.

She was so good at lying, to herself, but not to me.

“Go tell it to someone else,” I said, my tone colder than expected, but she didn’t flinch.

“No, I’m serious,” she smiled, tilting her head back, perhaps unable to hold back that strange smile that painted her face. “I’m happy because…”

“Yeah, because now I feel something wonderful, Jason. It’s like I want to… kiss you.”

She said it with such naturalness that I was stunned for a moment. I almost wanted to laugh just thinking about how many times I had wanted to do it myself, but I hadn’t because I respected her inner chaos too much to become part of it.

And so, I let her do it as if the wait for that moment hadn’t worn me out all that time.

After that, nothing tasted the same.

She didn’t know, but if I’m in this office now, it’s because of her, who gave me something to fight for, because if justice had been served, she wouldn’t be trying to take it into her own hands.

I’ve been on her trail for years, searching for answers, but I’ve never told anyone, since I figured out they have no intention of reopening the case, since one day, hacking the system, I discovered that it was actually one of my colleagues who had made sure it was closed.

Amelia

They watched us as if they wanted to give us alms.

No, I wasn’t alone. I was with all those who had been treated with the medications patented by my parents before they were shot with five gunshots, solely for having saved people.

But what are the lives of my parents compared to the economic interests at stake?

We moved continuously, gathering information, even at the cost of extracting it by force. All this to reconstruct the events and find the culprit.

My notebook was a collection of sheets, letters, and confused diagrams awaiting the final pieces of the puzzle that would make everything fit.

One fine day, the list of suspects had narrowed down to the point where only one name remained.

There was no more doubt; it was certain. I had been so meticulous in my research that I couldn’t have been wrong.

A bitter laugh escaped my lips as, hooded and masked, I sneaked out of the military barracks, not at all surprised that my parents’ murderer worked right there.

I had studied every single move; I had been preparing for that moment for years. I had evaded surveillance, scaled the armored doors without making a sound, and had even deactivated every external camera. I wasn’t doing it out of fear of spending my life in prison, but because why serve my time if I could calmly sip coffee in a military barracks, as Ethan Johnson was doing in the third room of the corridor?

It had been quite easy to find him: next to each door was a metal plaque with the names affixed.

The months during which I had meticulously planned that moment flashed before my eyes when the alarm sounded.

Someone had triggered it, probably having seen me through the infrared cameras, the only ones I couldn’t have deactivated. I would have cut the power directly if it hadn’t been too risky, given where the switch was located.

As I crossed the threshold, I immediately chambered a round, knowing I had limited time before the service personnel arrived.

“Don’t tell me you want to kill a poor soldier fighting for the homeland,” Ethan gloated, slowly turning toward me so that the back of his swivel chair revealed his disgusting face.

He knew who I was and why I was there; those who do harm always expect danger around the corner. Indeed, it took him just over a second to aim his Beretta at my chest.

“Because in that case, I’ll have to defend myself,” he added with a mocking and oily smile after chambering a round.

I could think clearly about what to do at that point, but footsteps behind me stopped me. I didn’t need to turn around to understand that I had a gun pointed at my temple; however, I couldn’t blame the person holding it. He probably didn’t know why I was there; he was just doing his job, defending a colleague he believed innocent.

What he didn’t know was that the shot was already ready and aimed in the right direction; my fingers only needed to move imperceptibly, and neither of them would have time to shoot before I could.

I had already considered the possibility of dying, but in that case, Ethan Johnson would come with me to hell.

Once again, I was ready to shoot; the wait was wearing me down, and nothing would stop me from doing it, nothing except him… Jason.

Exactly nine years had passed since I had left him with that farewell letter, and now we were back in the same room, except I was dressed in black and holding a gun.

This time, not against a mannequin.

I wavered as if my soul had been shaken. Suddenly, I felt tears prickling, blurring my vision.

That scene was also crystallized in his irises as soon as he stepped into the office.

I was sure he had recognized me, even though the mask left only my eyes exposed.

He would have recognized them among a thousand… He had once told me they were his favorite sapphires.

I saw his jaw tighten; our gazes met, and I felt so small for having disappointed him.

What followed was the most deafening silence I had ever heard.

Jason, perhaps I will no longer be a warrior without sin.

I would have preferred nothing more than for him to see me like this, in the guise of an assassin blinded by my thirst for revenge.

His uniform was quilted with insignias and medals of valor, and I was so proud of the man he had become, the fact that he had achieved his dream, that I would have set aside my boldest goal to not hinder him.

We were at opposite ends, he a Captain in the armed forces, I just a poor miserable soul about to commit a crime.

But once, we were just two kids kissing on rooftops, dreaming of a future together…

That silence would have exploded sooner or later, in the truest sense of the word, and the stakes kept getting higher with every passing second.

I imagined that the weapon he was pulling from its holster would be pointed at me. I knew he wouldn’t want to do it, but I had already forgiven him.

“General…” the guy behind me muttered. Maybe he didn’t believe he would actually shoot me.

I, too, struggled to believe I was ready to die at the hands of the only person I had ever loved.

Jason hadn’t even ordered me to lower the weapon, he knew I wouldn’t do it, just as he knew Ethan now wanted me dead because I knew his secret.

And Jason knew it too.

I could tell by the way he looked at him.

But he would have handled it legally if I hadn’t pushed him into a corner.

“Step aside, Ross. This is none of your business,” he ordered in return, his voice firm, as he too chambered a round.

In response, he quickly disappeared, vanishing down the long corridor.

When I found the courage to lift my eyes in his direction, Jason’s pistol was indeed aimed right at me.

He, like me, knew that someone in that room would have to die, otherwise, he wouldn’t have drawn the weapon at the first chance.

I could glimpse Ethan’s crooked smile, as he lowered his weapon, leaving the burden of the jail sentence he had so skillfully avoided for years on Jason. He probably knew as well as I did how loyal Jason was to justice, and how disgustingly good he was with firearms, to the point where he wouldn’t even hesitate to grab his own.

My Glock 17 was still pointed at Ethan, it hadn’t moved a millimeter, frozen in the air, waiting for my signal, which struggled to come.

Jason was pointing his weapon at me with determination. On his face, I could make out a mix of emotions, though well-hidden behind a thick mask of impassiveness.

After all, I knew those eyes well too.

I would have shot, and then I would have let myself be shot, but a deafening boom echoed through the walls of that cramped office before I could act, and it happened so fast I didn’t even realize it, yet I was still intact.

My hands, however, vibrated, pierced by the violence of the shot that had ripped the pistol from my hands, leaving me to feel the air, disarmed.

He hadn’t hit me. Impossible. He never misses.

I didn’t have time to process anything else before I caught a quick movement, almost imperceptible, followed by another shot that pierced my hearing.

Only my hearing.

He hadn’t missed his aim, he had changed his target.

Ethan's body lay dying in the chair.

Jason had shot him.

My hands instinctively covered my mouth as a bitter emotion hit my stomach and a deep sense of disgust pervaded me.

"Maybe I won't be a sinless warrior anymore," Jason swallowed, gazing motionless at the smoke pouring from the barrel of his gun.

"It wasn't a sin you should have done," I retorted, my soft voice reduced to a whisper. I was still processing what I had seen.

"It was never just your fight, Amelia," he told me, and the intimate look he gave me made me feel like the little girl who first fell in love with him all over again.

The truth was that I had spent years preparing impeccably for the moment when I would kill that criminal, but when I had aimed for his heart I had realized that I didn't have the courage to pull that damn trigger, not even in front of the man who had ruined my life had I been able to.

Jason had saved me.

The police sirens lit the glass windows facing the outside of the building red and blue, and we looked at each other again, as if that was the last time, as if nothing had ever changed in all those years, even though everything had changed now.

I didn't want to die and he wasn't a murderer, but for Jason I would have gotten shot and he had shot for me.