Hiding out in a pub in Maribor, Michael Owen was far from dead as everyone had so foolishly believed. It was quite a dramatic lifestyle change, but for the greater good, had to be made. Owen's secret would be kept a secret for now, and only until he had all the evidence he needed, would he strike back. His plan had just begun.
A Not So Warm Welcoming
It had been two months now since he had arrived, and naturally these two months had dragged on for what felt like an eternity, to him.
Every day he had woke up in the same cold, damp room, at the back of the same, old decrepit pub which he first encountered as he began his journey in the depths of Slovenia. In the evening, the light was of a minimum but every so often Michael would get a glimpse of the night sky, just able to peer through a small crack in the wall to his left.
He was lucky to even have a room to be accommodated in, anyway. Kindly, the pub owner had offered him the spare room, and gratefully Michael had accepted. Still, not once in his life did he think this is where he would end up. Remember, he was a former professional football player, a Premier League winner, a Ballon D’or winner, now this…this was what was left of him.
Even after the pub owner had allowed him to stay, the two had barely exchanged words, but this at least left him with the time to consolidate his thoughts and begin about tracking down the associates, friends and family, of the man whose secrets he was never meant to have uncovered.
But this would mean travelling again, and after feeling so safe, albeit not comfortable in his surroundings, Michael was reluctant to leave the country. His proposed destination? South America, and the mystical, mysterious land of Peru. His decision was finally made up now though. He would have to go, and having quickly scribbled down a notice to his old friend the landlord, he made his way out of the pub and back towards the heart of the city, well, the airport.
From there it was just a simple matter of passing through security, and again his new ID came in handy, before eventually he was ascending from the land and soaring right up into the skies above. He watched intently from the window as the plane rose up, leaving Maribor in its trail, and could have only wished to have visited under better circumstances. It just wasn’t to be.
And then eventually he watched as the plane descended back down to the land, meaning he could get out and explore the new continent that awaited him. He stepped out from the plane, and out into the airport (the latest in a long list), and then he heard the noise. Gunfire.
With it, the loud booming voices of killers: cold, hard and relentless.
“Welcome to Peru, Mr. Owen. It’s a pleasure.”
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