To Protect

The dark orange flames arced and curved to a beat without sound. Like flickering fireflies, they shone with passion then settled down into their ember homes. A pattern-less dance, yet a soothing repetition to Chong’s weary eyes. He rubbed them. Pulo will be here soon. And I’m to get the map “at all cost” according to the director, that fat bastard. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. But I have to.

The heavy library door rubbed the polished floors as it opened, re-etching a half-moon scratch onto the floor. Chong released a held breath. “Hello brother.”

“Chong.” A glint of sorrow flashed in the newcomer’s cool, gray eyes then disappeared just as quickly. The light emitted by the giant hearth made orange shadows on his umber skin. Pulo straightened. “You know why I’m here.”

Chong nodded and gestured for him to take a seat.

Pulo stiffened, his massive shoulders drawing up defensively.

He never was one for orders. Admiration dampened his desire to fulfil his duty. “At all costs," he remembered. Leaning forward, Chong steepled his hands. The chair creaked. A waft of oiled leather soaked his thin nostrils. Even after everything, it smelled like home. “Pulo, please. We can discuss this like adults. No weapons. No ambush. I wouldn’t do such a thing to you… brother.” The slight pause made the title sound as unnatural as it felt, yet Pulo’s tight glare softened, and he sat in the opposite chair, the only other in the small study. He’s so quick to trust. All it takes is a word. A false word.

Pulo copied Chong, leaning forward and clasping his gorilla hands. A thousand worries rode the crinkled brow, streaks of gray crowning it despite his young years. “I need my money. To leave the city. I need it tonight.”

Chong sat back in his chair, his fingers curling over the armrest. “So, you’ve really decided to leave? After I saved you and your sons’ lives?”

His eyes widened. “My sons are not to be discussed here.”

“For someone so given to sentimentality, you are anxious to hide your boys from your family.”

Pulo stood. “My boys aren’t for sale. We didn’t have a choice, but they will! I’d rather them dead than they have this life thrust on them.”

Chong’s anger propelled him to his feet. “They gave us mission and duty. One you long ago forgot. Come here, asking for money, hah! Who lied to the directors for you? Who swore, breaking their oath, that you were childless? That they’d died? And now, you come asking for money. Can’t even clean up your own mess.”

“It’s not my mess!” Pulo’s voice reached dangerous volume, and he stood.

They glared at each other, cold hatred spiking the other like icicles. The muscles around Pulo’s mouth screwed tighter and tighter. Chong realized he was clutching the knife handle protruding from his belt.

Chong took a deep breath. It didn’t matter that Pulo could snap him with his bare fingers. That he’d once seen him kill a man with a single blow to the head. Even now, Pulo would control himself. He’d always loved too much, even the “family” that used him. Still, he had to keep reminding himself of that as Pulo’s speech turned to growls. He tightened his grip on his own knife, deep in his coat.

“I never wanted to kill. I never wanted to be a spy.”

“But you are.”

“Yes, because I was raised into it." Pulo looked away." I didn’t know what soccer was, but I knew how to split a guy’s skull eight different ways. That won’t be my boys.”

“What? Men?” Chong sneered, all the tension building up in him. It didn’t matter that Pulo had the treasure. It didn’t matter that his mission was to retrieve it. He was sick of his “brother’s” self-righteous act. “You killed thousands more than me. There’s no washing that blood! I went through the same training, the same process, but you left. You thought there was better than protecting our home.”

“Mass murder is only acceptable in war. The look in those women’s eyes when we slaughtered their men like sheep… they knew as well as us. We’d taken their love, their life, and their only protection.” The flames in the fireplace seemed to grow in brilliance with each word. Face twisted in grief, Pulo moaned and pulled at his hair. “I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t. I couldn’t.”

Stiff, Chong curled his lips in disgust. “You did all the same things as the rest of us. What makes you think you can get off free?”

“I am not free. They’re coming for me. That’s why I must leave. I know what you want. I have the map. The treasure is all yours. I don’t have the time to recover it. I need money now.”

Chong relaxed. They were back to the topic of business. Back to equations, rationalizations, and logic. Yet his fury had peaked. It burned inside him. He needed to know. He needed an answer. “Why do you think you’re better than us?”

Pulo looked to the painting hanging over the fireplace. A beautiful woman, petite but curvy, and a strong man clutched each other with broad smiles. The hard lines in the man’s face could have etched a roman emperor. His angled eyes disappeared in crinkles of laughter and the wavy black hair curved back in a perfect slick. The woman had opposite features, with shining green eyes and full pink lips. Her rose-colored hair fell to her shoulders glimmering like tinted glass. “Certainly, you see it.”

“See what?” Chong barked. “It’s the same painting it’s always been. Twenty years it’s hung here. Twenty years the Leader refuses to enter this room yet won’t to take it down. That’s where sentimentality gets you. That’s where love takes you. She’s dead. Gone. And no one can accept it except me. And now here you are. Wifeless with two boys. With a record just like him. With levels of darkness no one understands. Just. Like. Him. You can’t walk away. This your home.”

“This is your home.” Pulo’s sharp tone cut him off. “You blind fool. Do you not see the likeness? You’re their son. You're the director's heir.”

Chong reeled as though struck. “I cannot…”

“Shut up and grow up. I saw it the first time I looked at that damn painting. And I fought everyday to be better than you. All it brought me was heartache and death. I’m done. Have your birthright. I was never part of this family. Not like you were. And I never want to see any piece of it again.”

Chong’s stare bore into the dancing orange of the flames. They leaped up and down, constantly in motion. Licking the air as though looking for something to eat away at. He stilled his shaking hands. “You don’t know—”

“I confronted the director. He confirmed it. You were six when she died, and she hadn’t even bothered naming you beyond a number. You must see this place is death. It was never about the “family” organization, it was about our brotherhood. You are the only friend I’ve ever had other than my wife. Now she’s gone, and I cannot stay. I have those to protect. And you? You have all your life ahead. There’s still hope for something more. Come with us.”

Years of training masking his emotions kept a neutral expression on Chong’s face. He lifted his chin and took a deep breath. “It would be a new beginning. It would be leaving everything.” He felt his hands shake again. His abs contracted tighter and tighter. He remained motionless. Expressionless. A picture of outward calm, he recited to himself. Don’t ever let them see you drop your hands.

His knobby knees knocked. He was shaking. Tears spilled down his cheeks. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried. Not since he was beaten for it. I could leave. They don’t love me. I’m not tied here.

No! What am I thinking? It’s Pulo’s trickery. It’s more of his sentimental lies. I have a part in this business. This organization isn’t tied by loyalty. I need them to get the job done.

But is it a job I want to do? He took a few steps. Any longer standing, and he might collapse.

Pulo’s implored him with a look. “Chong, please. See reason. Soon as you become useless to them, they’ll put you down like the dog they see you as.”

Defiance boiled up out of the whirlwind of new emotions in Chong’s chest. “I’ve invested too much to leave. I want to be great. I cannot live to be nothing. I cannot live to see my manhood sunken.”

“What is a man if not a protector? Here, you do not protect. You kill. There is more out there. More jobs. More life.”

“Life like yours? Where you can’t even protect those closest to you? If you had stayed with the organization… if you’d just done as told, your wife would still be alive.”

Anger flashed in Pulo’s eyes, but he mastered himself quickly.

He would have hit me before. A log collapsed in the fire. The sudden heat scorched Chong’s cheek. Sweat poured down his back. What kept Pulo so calm?

“I can not change the past, but I can learn from it. It was my own folly that led to her death. I got sloppy with my enemies. I was so used to having the organization cover my back for me, I forgot how to do it on my own. It was my dependence, not independence that killed me. But I can change that now. This new life will prepare my boys to stand up for themselves and for those too weak to do so on their own. They’ll save the world, not burn it or rely on the ones that do.”

Chong collapsed in his chair, suddenly too weak to stand. The world spun around him as he gripped his hair and tried to sort out the puzzle. A family that wasn’t a family. A boy who was once like a brother. Loyalty. Trust. Respect. All things that should be earned, not given. Earned. Pulo’s the one who saved me from sharks at seven. Took my first kill so I didn’t have to, but still told the director I did it. He pushed me through training. And what did the director – my father- do? He sent me to kill him. Chong froze, understanding gripping him and shooting cold fear to the marrow of his bones. “They sent me to kill you.” He looked up and met his friend’s eye. “They told me it was about a treasure map, but it’s not. They want you dead. They want you and these ideas dead. You’re dangerous to them.” Suddenly, the answer was clear. He stood, squaring back his shoulders. “If you’re dangerous enough to want dead, then something you’re saying is true. Somewhere in there is the answer we’ve all been looking for. I will go with you, but promise we’ll come back. Promise we’ll fight to show the others here that there’s more to life than murder and pillage.”

A familiar excitement shone in Pulo’s eyes as he held out his hand. His smile swallowed his beefy face. “I promise.”