Chapter 1 - the 'end man'

It was still early in the morning when Keel left the office and walked out of the building from which he had just had the short meeting. Those meetings rarely lasted long. They didn’t need to be long. Not for what he did. He was an “end man”. If and when there was problem within the organization that needed to be ended, he did it. He did not work within the Human Resources department though. There was no HR department. Not for this organization. Not for the ‘Order of 6’. He didn’t even really know how many people worked for it. The only people he had ever talked and met with was Mr. Fremore and the other man, Mr. Angus. Usually though, it was just Fremore. He knew Mr. Angus didn’t live in Calgary, of that he was quite sure. In actual fact, he was positive that it wasn’t anywhere in Canada. He didn’t really care though. That information wasn’t relevant to him. Currently, only Fremore was relevant to him – the man who had recruited him.

Overall, he liked Fremore. During and after the recruitment, the man had always been direct and blunt about the work he was to do. The man had no hesitation about anything, especially for the work Keel did. He liked that. Respected that. The man had stones. And that was rare he thought to himself. Not many people had the stomach for blood. It was a job that needed done though, and more often than people would realize. Sometimes certain people who interfered with how things worked had to go – and he made them go, he ended them. His recent background suited his current profession perfectly.

Keel even enjoyed the work – and the perks. It wasn’t that he enjoyed killing, although it did have a bit of a rush to it – a bit of a power trip, but it was just that he was good at it and he liked being good at what he did. Throughout his childhood, he had often been overlooked not because of his shyness, which it wasn’t at all, but because of his remoteness. He seemed to give an aura of just not caring, which was not true at all. He had always just preferred to keep his mouth shut instead of spouting off. He was more of a listener rather than a talker, until it was time to say something. He had friends, but not buddies, which had caused a few problems in his recent background where teamwork was essential. He had been able to work it out, but had shown an affinity still for doing things by himself - another reason for his recruitment.



Edmonton, Alberta, Canada

Keel had been all around the world - England, Germany, the States, Australia, the Middle East and also into Asia. And yet his favorite was still the quiet, low-visible and almost invisible area of western Canada – Alberta and B.C. No one outside of Canada looked at that area. It was Montreal, Toronto, Vancouver or nothing, and usually then even nothing. CNN barely even covered Canada. The country to the north and the largest trading partner of the world’s largest everything, economy and military, never got the time of day. Canada was off the radar in the land of super-sized French fries, larger than life SUVs and the world’s most powerful military.

The Order of 6 wasn’t complaining though. It was exactly how they wanted it. The less Canada was noticed, the more invisible it was, the better. From their point of view, “If they don’t know you’re there, they can’t see what you’re doing.” Behind the scenes is where all the action takes place anyways – and that is not for public consumption.

This area of Alberta and British Columbia had the beautiful and unique blend of vast prairies, thick-forested regions balanced off with a historical desert area and topped off with the remarkable beauty of the Rocky Mountains. They may not be the oldest mountains in the world, but Keel would put them up against any others in the world. This day however was not for beauty. No. It was for ‘ending’. It was time to go to work.

Behind the wheel, Keel downshifted into second gear as he turned onto the tree-lined residential street. The houses here were large. This was an area with money. He even knew a judge with the provincial Supreme Court lived nearby. For this reason, he had rented an Acura Integra. Not the most expensive car, but one that would blend in. After a few turns, he came upon a cul-de-sac. There it was, # 1625. The house was a three-level Victorian with white stucco. Drapes had been pulled across the picture window. A dark blue Lexus SVU was parked in the drive with plates that said, “NOTURS,” which read as “not yours”. The vehicle, Keel knew, belonged to Kevin Whitewall. Twenty-eight years old and spoiled to the point of annoyance to anyone who met him. His parents, Margie and Buster Whitewall were in Vegas gambling. All of this was in the dossier Keel had encrypted into a file on his Blackberry. He didn’t need to look at it. He had memorized it. It was not what he was thinking of though. There were three points that were on his mind at the moment.

First, Kevin was supposed to be home alone and Kevin had a special relationship with the target.

Second, the house was center-left on the cul-de-sac with two pertinent features in the back. Both side property lines in the back were marked with eight-foot high fences for privacy and more importantly, the rear property line was met with a greenbelt.

The third and most relevant thought in Keel’s mind went back to point number one. Kevin was supposed to be home alone all week while his parent’s were away. He was not though. Kevin had a guest - a guest that was in hiding from not only the Order, but from his own organization as well. The reason his own people had not found him here was because Kevin Whitewall was unknown to them. He was not a friend of the target. He was his dealer. Kevin was a coke dealer for “those who fell into in the appropriate class of economic standing.” For a guy with a university degree in business, but no job, Kevin made $200,000 a year on top of what his parents gave to him.

The target fell into the appropriate economic class. In fact, the target was Kevin’s best customer and that was the reason why he would not turn him away if the target needed a place to crash. That would be unfortunate mistake for Kevin.

Keel brought his left arm up and his eyes went to the crystal. It read 5:04pm. The sun wouldn’t be setting for about 2 more hours. He would be waiting a while past that however to make his house call. He glanced around one last time and noted that all was as it should be. He had time to kill, he thought. Such an appropriate phrase to use this evening.

He put the car back into gear and pulled away slowly, not even looking into the rear-view mirror to see the house. He had seen all he needed to. The house wasn’t going anywhere. Nor were the occupants.