Angel and the Assassin: Be Brave

“Good! It‟s the start of a new week, and I
    expect everyone to behave themselves.”
    Like a class of terrified children, they stared at him, hands clasped before
    them on their desks. “You are adults, not children. When my lips move, yours don‟t.
    When I speak, you listen. Are we clear?” They looked sideways at each other as they
    nodded.
    From his briefcase, Kael unloaded his textbooks and began the day‟s lesson.
    Walking up and down, he chalked verbs and adverbs on the blackboard, speaking as
    he went, now and then calling on someone to answer a question. Barely half an hour
    into the class, a man near the window sat gazing out at the car park as if
    mesmerized. Kael had watched him in his peripheral vision for the last ten minutes.
    The idiot had not heard a word.
    Deciding it was time to make an example of him, Kael put his chalk on the
    ledge beneath the blackboard and turned to face the class. “Stillwell, what is the
    German for „fuck‟?”
    Those paying attention shifted uncomfortably in their seats, glancing with pity
    at the offender.

    12
    Fyn Alexander

    The man did not respond, and several other men laughed nervously, seeming
    relieved that Kael‟s attention was not focused on them. Kael‟s voice grew heavier as
    it always did when he was angry. His jaw clenched. He hated disrespect. He was
    trying to help the stupid morons. What was wrong with them?
    “The German for „fuck‟ is bumsen , and that is what I am going to do to you if
    you don‟t start paying attention.” His voice rose as he walked between the desks
    toward the young man. “I am going to bumsen sie ! Fuck you right up your fat arse.”
    The sound of Kael‟s raised voice finally drew the man from his reverie, and
    when he saw Kael approaching him, his eyes widened in fear. Panting, he rose to
    his feet just as Kael reached him. Stillwell was tall, about six feet, but Kael‟s height
    and powerful build intimidated even large men, and Stillwell was overweight and
    out of shape. Stillwell fell heavily onto his chair as Kael struck him with his open
    hand, cuffing him sharply across the ear.
    “Pay attention, you fat moron.” He walked back to the front of the class and
    continued talking to a room of silent, wary students as though nothing had
    happened.

    * * *
    The cafeteria was crowded. Wanting to avoid people, Kael walked to the far

    end of the bright room to find an unoccupied table and opened the lunch box Angel
    had packed for him. With care he arranged his meal in front of him: a ham and
    cheese sandwich with lettuce on brown bread, a bottle of Perrier water, and a fruit
    salad. At the bottom of the Tupperware box was a little folded note. He opened it
    and read. Enjoy your lunch, Daddy. Love from your Angel . From his pocket, he took
    a small bottle of hand sanitizer and carefully rubbed a dollop into his hands.
    Across the cafeteria, several of the men and women who had failed to show up
    for his German class that morning were eating their lunch. When one of them
    caught his eye, she turned away quickly and leaned forward to whisper to the
    others. Predictably they turned cautiously to look at him. Kael picked up half his
    sandwich and bit into it. Fucking numskulls.
    His afternoon class was smaller and much more disciplined. There were only
    five of them, two women and three men, and all were slotted for undercover
    operations. They had spent several weeks on how to kill in public places and leave
    unseen. Today he would begin teaching them how to withstand torture in the event
    that they were captured on the job. If only Misha had been there; she would have
    taught them a thing or two.
    Kael walked purposefully into the dim basement room, just as he always did.
    This group was definitely afraid of him, but at least they respected him. Over the
    last few weeks, he had lulled them into some level of cautious comfort and decided
    now was the moment to make a point. Striding directly over to one of the women, he
    grabbed her by one arm, dragged her in to his chest, and threw her to the ground.
    In a split second, he had her pinned to the floor, completely overpowered by his
    weight.

    Angel and the Assassin: Be Brave

    13

    Looking down into her terrified eyes, he felt only a moment of regret. Perhaps
    he should have done it to one of the men. But no, he could not treat them
    differently. They were operational officers first and women second. If they were
    captured, no one would treat them kindly. He