Chapter 1

The first chapter of Ripper.

Red Knights HQ, behind Tinshill Grove, Leeds, 2016

Jackson Wright woke up. It was 5 AM. He had a lot of things to do. Some would say too much to do for a 134 year old.

First, he had to meet up with some new recruit. He had thought about assigning the new recruit to Benjamin, as he was his most loyal lieutenant. He thought against it, however, as it was contrary to one of his closest held principles, which was to personally meet up with new recruit on their very first day.

He went to the firing range, where paper, human-shaped targets were being mutilated by gunfire. However, no one above them could hear a thing, as they all used silenced SMG's. All of his men knew that they were not to aim for any vitals, any place where the shot could seriously injure or kill a man. Everyone understood this, except for one in the corner. He was happily firing away, scoring headshot after headshot. Jackson sighed.

"You over there! Far corner! Put down your gun." roared Jack. "Come with me."

"Sir? What did you want? They asked me to shoot accurately, and I did." said the recruit.

Jackson held his head in his hands. Benjamin was in charge of recruitment. He usually picked up men of the highest calibre, men who could be trusted to do anything. He had made a mistake with this man, though.

"What's your name, newbie?"

"Jason, sir. Jason Taylor."

"Well then, Mr. Taylor, I highly doubt that you comprehend the requirements of a Red Knight. The first rule is simple enough: Don't kill. Can you not understand such a basic boundary?"

"Sir, why is that your first rule? Killing just gets the job done, doesn't it?"

A sudden change came over Jackson. It was like he was at war with himself, with his face being the battlefield.

"Because... Because I told you not to. Never ask that question again. Ever. Do you understand?"

Jason was a little confused, who wouldn't be? But there was a look in Jackson's eyes. Almost manic. Frightening.

Jason shivered, then nodded.

"Good. I have other matters to attend to. Good day, Jason."

Jason gave Jackson a military salute and stumbled off.

Jackson walked into the Major Communication Room of the HQ. Here, the Red Knights kept tabs on all security and traffic cameras in Leeds, as well as the computer systems and phones of their targets, usurpers who couldn't be brought down by the Government. That was their job. They didn't care about street-crime. The police could handle it. No, their job was to uncover the darkness hidden beneath the streets of England. There are so many things that happen in England under their noses. Things that the police know nothing about. Jackson's army of Red Knights had served this purpose throughout history, taking care of National Security-level threats without anyone, even MI6, knowing about them. Now though, there was a new threat, a threat that Jackson was about to uncover soon enough.

"What have you got for me, Oliver?" said Jackson.

Oliver Barton was a technological genius, a man who built all of the tech used in the Major Communication Room from scratch. He was also a brilliant detective, capable of detecting the finest details in a video clip. He was indispensable to the Red Knights.

"Sir, I'm still tracking down the mysterious van, and I've made some interesting breakthroughs."

The van he was referring to was an anomaly picked up by him two weeks ago. It looked normal enough, but it stood out for a big reason. It had a box-type number plate. These number plates were easily changeable, on the move. One simply entered the desired numerals and letters, and a 3-D printer would design the plate in a matter of minutes. The old ones are switched out automatically using a mini conveyer belt inside the box of the number plate. It was only used by top-tier criminals, since it costed quite a bit. This was serious.

"Well, according to the route taken by the van, it always goes through Headingly and ends up near the Leeds Bradford Airport. It goes through mostly secluded roads, since the traffic cams couldn't pick it up all the time."

"Very well, Oliver. I guess I have to free up tonight's schedule."

"Why?"

"Well, you have found a few places where the van always passes through, right?"

"Yeah. So, you're going to tail it?"

"Of course. I need you to keep watch of the path this mystery truck of ours takes. Tell me, and I will hunt it down. That van will never reach its destination."

"OK sir. And here I was, thinking that we could have a quiet night in."

"There is no time for a quiet night in. Now, get me a comms. unit, will you?"

Author's Note

How fun is it?

Reviews

[The Lost Ghost]

Very intriguing so far. Big fan of the hidden, silent group working in the shadows, behind the scene. Nice job!