The Red Scorpion, Chapter 4

2022
Pic La Selle
On the border of the Dominican Republic
Haiti

“Alaistaire! Hey, wait up!” Nicolette called out, pushing wayward branches out of the way.
The forest surrounding her was dark, eerie and thick. Barely any sunlight permeated through the closely-knit trees. Nicolette and Alaistaire have been traveling for almost a year. After months of rigorous research, they had finally picked up information on the elusive elite French mercenaries’ whereabouts. Or at least, their ‘rumored’ whereabouts. The Red Scorpions proved to be elusive indeed. So far, they have been scouring more than a dozen of forests and jungles all over Haiti, each one harsher than the last. The area on the foot of Pic La Selle on the border with the Dominican Republic was their last chance of finding the Scorpions.
Still no sign of the mercenaries. Nicolette was starting to lose hope and faith together with her waning energy. It wasn’t their constant searching and wandering that exhausted her but, rather, handling Alaistaire’s pain and disappointment after yet another failed attempt to locate the Scorpions. Already, a part of her was fervently wishing that they have never left the orphanage in search of an army that may already have been wiped out.
She caught a glimpse of her lovers’ dark black hair and doubled her efforts to keep up. In her haste, she tripped as a particularly nasty branch slapped her face, leaving a small cut on her right cheek. Swiping away at the blood that made its way slowly down her chin, she stumbled on the last few steps before she bumped into Alaistaire.
Sunlight hit her squarely in the face and she brought a hand up to shield her eyes from the glare of the sun. She surveyed her environment while absently brushing away the irritating creature that was attempting to climb up her neck.
They were in a clearing and much deserted by the looks of it. Her face crumpled in disappointment, and, sighing, she turned to Alaistaire, noting the same disheartened look that mirrored hers in his otherwise boyish face. “Come on, my love. Let’s get back to get some rest.”
Another dead end.. Another heartbreak.. Another long sleepless night where the responsibility of mending his broken heat and putting the pieces back together again falls on her heavy and already-burdened heart.
Alaistaire glanced at her and gave a tiny shrug, golden brown eyes shining with renewed hope, “They were here. We just missed them.”
She shook her head in frustration, “Enough, Alaistaire!” Her belief in the Scorpions have dissipated which was evident in the reprimand she gave him, her voice echoing throughout the empty clearing, rising to a full shout. She was breathing heavily as she reached the end of her tirade. Her anger had taken hold of her and she blurted out the words that she had long wanted to tell him. “The Red Scorpions do NOT exist!” she finished, immediately regretting her words at Alaistaire's apparent despair.
Her words rang back at her, eventually swallowed by the forest behind her. Cold steely silence fell but not before a chilling whisper made the hair on the back of her neck stand up on end, “Au contraire.” Both she and Alaistaire whirled around in a flash to face their would-be attacker, fists clenched and raised, poised in defense.
A man, 6 feet tall, stood before them, his aristocratic face set in calm demeanor with his hands clasped behind his back. “The Red Scorpions do exist,” he said, regal and fit to be called an angel, the soft breeze playing his mass of blond locks. His serene face was a sharp contrast to the dark and foreboding forest background behind him. Startling aquamarine eyes sparkled as a soft smile graced his features. He took a step towards them and reached out to gently lower their fists, his placid voice saintly and composed. “I am Ciel, the Scorpion.”
The man had piercing blue eyes and wore a maroon cap with a black tactical vest. He held a Steyr Aug in his right hand, and had a cigarette in his left. He motioned for the two of them to come with him.


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