The night before launch:
The Shadow and four men gathered in a small apartment in Lisbon. They stood around a table and looked over the city's plans. The Shadow himself, who still wore all-black, explained his plan to the men, “We have to hit them quick and we have to hit them hard. This won't be easy.”
“It's just a simple raid,” one of them said in a cockney accent. This man was Mister Green. No one in the operation knew the names of the others. The less anyone knew, the better. “We've trained for this. How can hard can it be?”
The Shadow laid down photographs of Emma and Liam Mitchell, “See these two?”
They nodded.
“These two are some of the most dangerous people in the world. The girl is Emma and the boy is Liam. They're the son and daughter of the captain and first mate of the Holdsworth. They were practically raised to be the most elite warriors in the world. If there is any chance in this mission going wrong, it rests in those two.”
“Are they targets?”
The Shadow eyed the pictures uncomfortably, “No.”
“Sir?”
“I said no.”
“What if we engage?”
“You suppress them,” The Shadow insisted. “I don't want any member of the Mitchell family to come to harm. The rest of their crew is expendable.”
“Sir, all due respect, why?”
“Because I said so and that's all you need to know,” the Shadow grew frustrated, but kept it under control. He was trained to keep his emotions under wraps. “I picked the four of you because you're the best out of those still loyal. Don't break your loyalty now because of your loose trigger fingers. There's a lot at stake.”
“What's so important about this Fujikawa line anyway?”
“It's the key to global communications. It represents a major shift in power. Anyone who controls it, controls a sizeable portion of power. “
“So, we're gonna destroy the key to global communications. I like it.”
“You'd like it if I told you we were destroying an anthill.”
“Too right,” Green smirked.
“Well, this isn't destruction. It's just... pruning. We hit them tomorrow. Rest up and make sure you're in your zone. I have a feeling this won't be easy at all,” The Shadow ordered. The men instantly turned and went about their business.
The Shadow stepped out of the apartment and quietly shut the door behind him. He trudged through the run-down halls, looking at the poverty around him. The floors creaked, the wallpaper peeled, and the wooden paneling rotted. In places, there were bloodstains, taints of the apocalypse. Most, if not all, of the stains were from twenty-five years ago during the outbreak. No one had bothered to clean up this lonely apartment in the poor section of Lisbon. The Shadow thought to himself that he would change all of this. The world was a damaged place and it needed fixing. To repair damage, one would first need to know and understand the problem; the chaos.
The Shadow understood chaos well. Many times in his career he used chaos as a vehicle for control. He knew how to instill chaos and then how to end it. Chaos on a global scale, on the other hand, is a completely different matter. The Shadow knew this and the Shadow hated it. There is nothing that the Shadow despises greater than the chaotic pandemonium of the world.
The second step in damage repair is to make order of the issue. The Shadow knew order better than he knew chaos. All of his life, he kept his matters clean, organized, and absolutely pristine. One look at the Shadow and one would know of the unblemished nature of his existence. His black tie was always worn perfectly, without even that typical dimple. And his suit: always perfect in every way. To his exacting specifications, it was tailored to his body. His hair was never worn in disarray, it was perfectly groomed. The Shadow's stature, usually with his hands behind his back or to the side, also indicative of his flawlessness.
By these features, one of the last traits most would assign the Shadow is, “dangerous.” One would think this up until looking into his eyes. The Shadow's eyes were a grievous shade of bright blue, but behind the color lies the true, darkened nature. Looking deeply, one would know his tortured soul. One would know his need to impose order unto chaos. One would know his anger, but also his control. The Shadow is a man of authority and power.
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