Chapter 1: Homeland - Part I

Ittehad City is the heart of the country - a chaotic mass of humanity.

Yet within its lifeblood, there has spread a criminal cancer - hiding beneath the surface, corrupting the very soul of the city.

I am Salar, and after 7 years in exile, I have come home with the cure!

The scream echoed through the deserted street and on into the night, carrying with it a palpable sense of despair and of terror. The figure in the shadows stirred, then raced across the rooftop and leaped off the edge of the single storey warehouse.

Salar landed with a roll and spun around to face the thugs pummelling the night guard. “Let him go!” he said with a low growl. The goons laughed, as three of them drew knives and began to encircle him. The fourth, bigger than the rest and obviously their leader, grabbed the guard by the scruff of the neck and tossed him aside.

“Or what?” he said, drawing a knife of his own as the guard landed with a thump and crumpled against the wall. Salar merely smiled, drawing the two Kali sticks strapped to his back, and lowered into a half crouch. At four to one, he liked the odds. “Kill him!” shouted the big thug and they converged upon him.

It was over within seconds. The first thug to reach him slashed low and wild. He missed, but caught the end of one stick with his front teeth and of the other with his ribs. The next two made thrusts but stabbed only empty air. Both of them fell - one clutching a bleeding head, the other a bashed in sternum.

The leader swung his knife high, going for the jugular. Salar ducked, grabbing the thug’s arm with one hand and jabbing a stick into his throat with the other. “Run back to your boss now, and tell him to leave the city. Forever!” he growled.

x---------------x

Of all the bloody nights, he had to choose this one! thought Maryam Vayani as she hung up the phone. She was completely exhausted, eyes bloodshot from staring at a screen all evening, yet she knew this was one request she dared not ignore. So she put her laptop away and began tidying up her apartment, preparing to welcome a total stranger into her home at past midnight.

The request was not unusual but a little advanced warning would be nice. And could they not arrive at a decent hour? She would raise her concerns the next time he called, she decided. The soft knock brought her out of her reverie. She crossed her living room to open the door, and instantly regretted not having changed into something more presentable.

"Ms. Vayani?" inquired the stranger politely. "I was told I could find accommodations here."

Maryam realized her mouth hung open as she gazed up into his large, brown eyes boring into her own. "Y-yes of course. Please do come in," she replied, recovering from her stupor.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you," he said as he stepped inside, "I hadn't expected to be quite so late."

"At almost-morning o'clock? Not at all!" she said, uncharacteristically sarcastic. She had become accustomed to such house guests, yet this particular one was having a strange effect on her. She felt light headed, weak kneed, and for the first time in her life, she was embarrassed about her slobbish ways.

"I am truly sorry," he apologized with a quick smile, "But if you would show me to my room, I'll get out of your way for what is left of the night."

"It's alright. I was up working anyway," conceded Maryam, leading him to the spare bedroom. "Just try not to be too loud in the morning, eh? I like to sleep in late."

He gave her another quick smile in response, then bade her goodnight before closing the bedroom door. The room was sparse but adequate to his purposes. He drew the light curtains across the window before turning his attention to the parcel that sat on his bed as expected.

"Hey! What do I call you?" he heard Maryam shouting through the door. He withdrew the two Scorpion daggers from the box, the black steel winking up at him, and weighed them in his palms before calling back:

"Call me Salar."