Noble Intentions: Episode 1

L. T. RYAN
http://LTRYAN.com
@LTRyanWrites


PUBLISHED BY:
Liquid Mind Media at Smashwords
Copyright © 2012


All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be copied, reproduced in any format, by any means, electronic or otherwise, without prior consent from the copyright owner and publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places and events are the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously.


1
“Momma!” the little girl called out in a frightened voice.
Jack Noble looked over and saw her standing alone. She looked to be eight or nine years old. He watched people walk by the crying child paying no attention to her. His first thought was to ignore her like the faceless others who didn’t notice or care that a little girl was standing in the middle of the sidewalk alone and lost. 
“Momma? Where are you?” she said through sobs.
Jack jogged over and knelt in front of the child. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”
“Mandy.” She wiped tears away from her big blue eyes. “Can you help me?”
Jack looked around at the crowded street and then at his watch. The old man would be there soon. The instructions were explicit; he had to be at the corner of Main Street and Roosevelt Avenue at 9:30 am. The old man did not like it when people were late.
Jack looked at the little girl. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to talk to strangers?” 
She stared back at him.
“C’mon Mandy.” He hoisted her onto his shoulders. “Can you see her?”
Mandy looked up and down the street. “No. I don’t see her nowhere.”
“How long have you been lost?”
“I dunno. A long time.” Her crying had stopped. 
Jack turned in a tight circle so Mandy could scout the crowd.
“I can’t see her mister.”
Jack pulled her down from his shoulder and held her against his chest. “Where do you live?”
“23423 52nd Street, Apartment D,” she rattled the address off so fast, like a robot, and he knew the address had been drilled into her by her mother or father.
“Do you know your mommy’s cell phone number?”
As quickly as she offered up her address, the little girl gave him her mother’s cell phone number.
Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, dialed the number and waited for it to ring. 
“We’re sorry, the number you have dialed has been disconnected. Please check the number and try again,” a recorded operator told him. 
He dialed again, but the same message played.
“Shit!”
“Oh, you said a bad word,” Mandy said.
He smiled at the girl, but his smiled turned into a look of concern when he saw the white Mercedes getting closer. The old man was here, 9:30 a.m. on the dot. He looked around to see if anyone recognized the little girl. People walked by, eyes ahead staring off into the distance like zombies. It was always the same in every big city he visited, everyone walked around with blank stares, looking straight ahead. They couldn’t give two shits about you or your problems.
The Mercedes pulled up to the curb, the rear window rolled down. An old Asian man peered at him through thin glasses. “Hello, Mr. Jack.”
Jack nodded back at the man.
“Do you have the documents with you?”
Jack held up the briefcase for the old man to see. “Right here.”
“Is today bring your child to work day?”
“Condescending much?” Jack continued to look around for someone, anyone, who recognized Mandy. “I need you to give me a couple minutes here.”
“There are no minutes to give, Mr. Jack. Our agreement was 9:30 a.m. It is now 9:30 a.m.”
“Just give me a minute. She’s lost. I need to find a safe place for her.” 
“I can assure you my car is the safest place for her.” His sly, yellow smile was enough to put Jack on alert.
“Just give me a minute,” Jack said. He knew the old man didn’t give a rat’s ass about the little girl. He would drive five minutes out of the city and drop her on the curb, if he didn’t kill her first.
“You have 30 seconds, Mr. Jack. Fail to return in 30 seconds and… well, I don’t have to tell you what’s to come. Do I?”
“No. I’m well aware of that.” In ten years he had done at least two dozen jobs for the old man. Jack knew the only reason the crime boss continued to give him assignments was because Jack didn’t screw up. He didn’t attract attention and he most definitely didn’t tell the old man to wait.
“You are wasting time, Mr. Jack.”
Jack took off down the sidewalk. He recalled seeing a police officer stationed a block away. Dealing with a cop wasn’t ideal, there was always a risk that Jack’s face was plastered on a wanted poster somewhere. But if he wanted Mandy in a safe place, there was no other choice. 
“Officer!” Jack yelled.
The police officer turned to face Jack with a look of indifference smeared across his face.
“Officer, this little girl is lost. I need you to take her. She knows her address and her mom’s cell phone.” Jack pushed the little girl towards the cop. She turned and reached back for Jack, apparently not wanting to leave his side.
“Whoa, whoa, wait,” the policeman said. He held out his hand and shook it in Jack’s face. “What the hell is going on here? You can’t just dump a kid on me.”
“I know how it looks, officer, but she’s in danger. Just take her back to the precinct until her mother shows up.”
The cop eyed Jack’s six foot two inch frame up and down. Jack got the feeling the cop didn’t care too much for him. He watched the policeman’s eyes stop at the handcuffs attached to his left wrist. They widened when the cop realized the other end was attached to a briefcase. The cop backed up. “What the hell is attached to your wrist?”
Jack checked to see how many people were around. It was crowded. He was in New York for Christ’s sake, of course it was crowded. He preferred not to make a scene with this many people nearby, but he didn’t have much choice. He looked back at the cop. The pudgy officer had his hand on his gun. Jack knew at that moment he had no other choice.
Jack slowly raised his left hand and distracted the officer by pushing Mandy toward him. The moment the cop looked down at the little girl, Jack’s window opened. He reached into his pocket for a stun grenade, or flashbang as he called it. In one fluid motion he threw the flashbang at the cop’s feet, pulled Mandy back, and turned so he wouldn’t be blinded by the light. 
The cop didn’t have time to react. BOOM! The flashbang exploded with a burst of bright light that instantly blinded anyone who saw it. The explosion was loud enough to disrupt the fluid in the inner ear, disrupting all sense of balance and direction. The office fell back and hit his head on the sidewalk. Hours later neither the cop nor any of the bystanders would be able to describe Jack. The only thing the cop remembered was the briefcase.
Jack lifted Mandy in a fireman’s carry and ran. He scoured the street for the Mercedes, but it was gone. It looked like the old man hung him out to dry. Again. 
“Fuck him!” Jack said. 
Mandy giggled.
“You think this is funny?”
She stopped laughing and pushed with her hands to get off of his shoulder. Jack tightened his grip as he looked for the Mercedes. He spotted it parked a block and a half away. He was almost out of breath when he finally reached the car.
“Mr. Jack,” said the old man, “I would have thought that someone in your line of work would be in better shape.”
“Damn cigarettes,” Jack said.
“You know those will kill you.” The old man reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a Marlboro, lit it with a wooden match, and threw the match out the window toward Jack. 
“When?” Jack asked in a sarcastic tone. He set the girl down and ran his hand through his brown hair. “Let us in,” he said, “we’ll get this sorted out on the way.”
“Mr. Jack, you are late. Not only that, you have attracted the attention of the police. This meeting has been compromised.” He rolled up the window and the Mercedes pulled away. 
“Wait!” Jack said. “Let us in. I’ve got what you want right here.”
The Mercedes stopped and the old man stuck his head out the window, looking back at him. “Another time, Mr. Jack.” The old man paused and lowered his sunglasses so Jack could look at his cataract covered eyes. “I’ll be in touch soon.”
The Mercedes sped away and Jack heard the sounds of sirens approaching. The cops would be here soon. He had to get moving or it would only be a matter of seconds before they found him.
“It’s time for plan B, Mandy.” He lifted her back onto his shoulder.
“What’s plan B, Mr. Jack?”
“I’ll let you know as soon as I do, sweetheart.”
Jack jogged half a block and ducked into an alley. He pulled out a map of the area that was marked with the locations of places he considered safe houses. Over the last decade he had performed enough favors he could always call one in when in a tough situation.
Clarissa’s apartment was on a block away. She was a friend. Truth be told, she was more than a friend. There were two people Jack trusted with his life and Clarissa was one of them. She would hide him for the night, no questions asked. He might even be able to pawn Mandy off on her. He looked at the little girl and laughed at the thought of Clarissa taking care of a kid. 
“What’s so funny?”
“Other than your face?”
“Hey! That’s not nice!” Mandy stuck out her lower lip in an exaggerated pout.
Jack laughed. “I’m teasing sweetie. Only teasing.”
They hid out in the alley until dark. Clarissa’s apartment wasn’t far away, but he didn’t want to risk the cops spotting them. He didn’t want to kill a cop in front of Mandy. He might be a killer, but he did have some morals. 



2
“Who is it?” Clarissa asked from the other side of the door.
Jack held Mandy against his chest. She was asleep, had been since before they left the alley. He quietly replied, “Its Jack.”
“Jack?”
“C’mon, Clarissa. I’m in trouble. Need your help.”
The door opened and Jack was greeted by the gorgeous red head. There weren’t many women who could look him in the eye, but at five foot ten and wearing heels, Clarissa could. She motioned with her hand for Jack to come in. As he walked past her he noticed how great she smelled. She always smelled great. Not cheap like most of the other strippers he knew.
“Who the fuck is this?”
“Her name’s Mandy. She’s lost.” Jack paused a beat. “I was waiting for an associate and spotted her. She was standing there, crying for her mom. No one would help her.”
Clarissa raised a curious eyebrow. “Ahhh, you’ve gone soft, baby.”
“Shut up.”
“So, what, you went up to her and?”
“I offered to help. Figured her mom was in a nearby store. You know something simple like that.”
“I’m guessing you assumed wrong then?”
“Yeah, very wrong. Worst thing is I missed my meeting, which pissed off some very bad people.” He unlocked the handcuffs and set the briefcase down.
Clarissa cast a curious eye toward the briefcase. “So why are you here? You need me to hide you?” She laughed.
“I also pissed off the cops.” He looked up at the ceiling, his hands clasped behind his head.
“Let me get you a drink.”
Jack nodded.
“What do you want? I got beer, whiskey, tequila.”
“One of each,” Jack replied. “Hey, you got somewhere she can lie down?” 
“Sure, go ahead and put her in my room for now.” Clarissa pointed to the back of the apartment with one hand as she filled shot glasses with the other.
Jack walked over to the couch and picked up the sleeping girl. It had been a long day for the child. She opened her eyes and stared at him, lips drawn tight and her eyebrows furrowed. He waited for her to ask him a question, but before she could open her mouth, her head fell forward on his shoulder and she went back to sleep. He stroked her hair as he took her to Clarissa’s bedroom. Jack laid her down and covered her up with a blanket.
He walked back to the kitchen and went straight to the counter where his shot glasses were waiting. He threw back a shot of tequila and grimaced at the burn and aftertaste. He’d only had three jobs go bad. Two of those three had been because of tequila.
“I’ve never seen you that gentle with anyone,” Clarissa said. She placed her hand on his shoulder and gave it a soft massage, then dragged her nails lightly across his back.
He picked up the second shot glass and held it to his lips. “I fucked up.” He drank the whiskey, slammed the shot glass down and then cracked opened the bottle of beer. “Big time.”  
“More?”
“Yeah, one of each.” He slid the shot glasses across the counter.
Clarissa poured his refills. “How bad can it be?”
Jack said nothing. He drank his shots in succession and returned to his bottle of beer. “We’ll only be here tonight.”
“Jack, you know you can stay as long as you need. I don’t mind. Even with the kid, it’s cool with me.” She put her arm around his shoulders. “As much as you have done for me, it’s the least I can do.”
“It’s the old man,” he said.
Clarissa looked down at the floor, toward the briefcase. “I’m guessing that briefcase has something to do with it?”
Jack nodded and said nothing.
“What’s inside?” she asked.
“Just some papers.” He paused. “It’s better you don’t know.”
“Will he try to kill you?”
Jack thought about it for a moment. Shrugged. Would he kill me? “If he wanted me dead he would have killed me after I botched the deal.”
“So why don’t you go to him tonight and complete the deal?”
“The cop. He saw enough of me to be able to identify me. Plus, the old man said he’d be in contact. Better to just wait it out.”
“You want to turn on the TV? Check the news?”
“Nah, that shit’s depressing.”
They both laughed but the moment was short lived, interrupted by a shrill scream. Jack raced to the back of the apartment to check on Mandy. 
“Mommy!”
Jack sat on the edge of the bed and stroked her hair. “Shhh,” he whispered, “we’re gonna get you to your momma. I promise.” He sat with her until she fell back to sleep. 
Clarissa greeted him with a smile when he returned to the kitchen. He smiled back. She looked good tonight. Hell, she looked good any time of day. But tonight she seemed move vibrant than usual. Even though he had ten years on her, they’d always had a connection. Things had progressed further the last few years, though, and that scared Jack. In his line of business it didn’t pay to be close to anyone.
“Another drink?” she asked.
Jack nodded.
Clarissa brushed against him on her way to the fridge.
Jack followed her, waiting behind the opened door. The air escaping from the refrigerator felt cool against his flush face.
She stood, turned and stopped inches from him. Bit her bottom lip.
He lifted his hand, brushing strands of her hair behind her ear. Leaned in and kissed her neck. His hands worked down her sides. Steady fingers unbuttoned her jeans and slid them off her waist. “For a stripper you wear some pretty boring panties.”
“Exotic dancer,” she said in between nibbles on his ear. She wrapped a leg around his.
 “The little girl,” Jack said. “She’s sleeping in the other room.”
Clarissa waved off Jack’s protest. “I’ll be quiet.”
“But you know I can’t be,” he said with a wry smile. 
They found the couch and fell into one another.


3
Clarissa awoke as the sun peeked through a crack in the curtains. She sat up, reached her arms out and opened her eyes to find herself alone. “Son of a bitch,” she muttered as she stood. Her head throbbed from the combination of sex, alcohol and lack of sleep.
She walked to the back of the apartment to see if Jack was in the bathroom or had slipped into her bed. She had been told that she snored. It wasn’t all that uncommon for her lovers to sneak off and find a quiet place to sleep.
There was a note on the bedroom door. She read it to herself:
Clarissa,
Sorry, I have to take care of something this morning. Watch over Mandy for me. Back by evening.
Jack
“Son of a bitch,” she said again. 
She opened the bedroom door a crack and peeked in to check on Mandy. Covers hugged the little girl as she lay sleeping. Clarissa went back to the kitchen and grabbed her cell phone. She searched for Jack’s number. It was in there a few days ago, but she couldn’t find it now. He must have erased his number from her phone before he left. She rolled her eyes at the thought.
“Momma?”
Clarissa slammed her phone down and bit her lip in frustration. She turned to see Mandy standing there looking timid.
“Where’s my momma? Where’s Mr. Jack?”
“Jack had to go out for a bit sweetie. He’s looking for your mom.”
“Who are you? Are you Mrs. Jack?”
Clarissa laughed. “No baby, but we are really good friends.”
“That means you’re my friend, too,” Mandy said.
Clarissa smiled at her. Things are so simple for children. “Are you hungry?”
“Mmhm.” Mandy rubbed her belly.
Clarissa poured a bowl of cereal, sat it in front of the child. “Now eat up. We got to get you cleaned up. Can’t have your momma show up with you looking all a mess.”
Mandy looked up and smiled at her with a mouth full of cereal and milk. The milk trickled down her chin as she grinned. Clarissa couldn’t help but laugh, which resulted in milk and cereal spraying across the table as the little girl joined in. Their laughter was disrupted by a loud knock on the door.



4
Jack pressed the gun into the back of Lester’s head. The man kneeled down on the ground, feet crossed, arms tied behind his back, his face just inches away from the cold, grey wall. Lester struggled to keep his head from touching the wall. Jack had told him if he touched the wall, he was dead. 
The dimly lit cellar had a single yellow light bulb hanging from the ceiling. It swayed slightly, casting shadows side to side.
 “I… I don’t know any more than what I told you, Jack,” Lester said. 
“For some reason I just don’t believe that, Lester.” Jack looked back at Bear and nodded.
Riley “Bear” Logan was Jack’s partner on most of his assignments. Bear was a big man, as one would guess based on his nickname. He stood at six foot four and weighed in at over three hundred pounds. He had a big, bushy brown beard and a heavy brow. He’d had Jack’s back since they were 19 years old, fresh out of bootcamp.
Lester’s teeth chattered and his body convulsed every ten seconds or so. 
There was a time when Jack would have felt sorry for the poor bastard. Those days were long gone. In fact, it had only taken a few civilian kills to cleanse him of any feelings of remorse. Today all he wanted was a name. He really didn’t care if he killed Lester or if he let him walk out of the cell. But killing him would only be fair, since Lester sure as hell didn’t care that Bear nearly died a month ago due to Lester’s recklessness.
 “Lester, I just need a name. Any name that leads me to him. You got in contact with him to set up that job. How did that happen? Don’t try and tell me telepathy or some mystical bullshit.”
“They’ll kill me, Jack.”
“I’ll kill you, Lester.”
Lester bowed his head. “Do what you gotta do then. At least you’ll be quick about it. Those guys will torture me and probably kill my family too.” His voice shook the entire time. Bravery did not befit him. He made a better computer geek than a spy.
“Why are you protecting these people?”
“Protecting them? I don’t fucking care about them. I’m protecting my wife, my kids,” replied Lester. 
Jack remained silent, pushed the barrel of his gun into the back of Lester’s head.
“You’re a killer, Jack, but you won’t go after my family.”
Jack smiled. He would go after Lester’s family if it got him what he wanted. And Lester knew enough about Jack to know that. “What if I could offer you protection until this mess is cleaned up?”
“How? I thought you worked alone now?”
“Plenty of people owe me favors,” Jack replied. 
Just then his cell phone rang. Christ, how did she find his number? He took his phone out of his pocket and looked at the caller ID. It wasn’t Clarissa. He didn’t recognize the number at all.
He walked out of the cellar and told Bear to keep an eye on Lester. Bear was the only person other than Clarissa that Jack trusted. They had worked together as independent contractors for the last ten years and Bear had saved his life at least a dozen times. In another life the two were soldiers. Trained killers. But now they killed for profit.
“Who is this?” asked Jack.
“Hello, Mr. Jack.”
He recognized the voice. “You ready to finish this deal?”
“What business have you with Lester, Mr. Jack?”
Jack climbed the stairs and peeked out the tall, skinny windows next to the front door. “Not sure what you’re talking about.”
“Mr. Jack, you know I have eyes and ears everywhere. Don’t try to bullshit me,” the old man said.
“My business with Lester is my business. I don’t work for you.”
“As you wish. Mr. Jack, all I want is the briefcase. I want to complete our deal.”
“You left me out there to hang yesterday. Why should I trust you now?”
The old man laughed. “Trust? This is about money, Mr. Jack. Not trust.”
“Where do you want to meet?” Jack asked while peeking into the cellar.
“The city is too hot right now. Your face is all over the news. Something about kidnapping a girl and attacking a cop. The horror.”
“Christ, fucking tourists with their damn camera phones.” Jack would have to use another favor to clean this up. “Ok, so where then?”
“I will be in touch soon, Mr. Jack,” the old man replied. “Oh, and give my regards to Mr. Lester. Tell him his wife and kids didn’t suffer, they went in their sleep.”
Jack was silent. He worked out what had happened in his head. The old man must have had guys on Lester’s house or tailing Bear. The goons saw Bear go in and come back out with Lester. As soon as Bear left the goons went in and killed Lester’s family. They probably have pictures of Bear going in and leaving with Lester and can use those to pin it on him. What a fucking mess. 
“Your silence is confirmation enough for me Mr. Jack. Goodbye.”
The line went silent. Jack stood in the doorway and nodded at Bear.
The big man walked toward him. “What’s the deal?”
“Seems Lester pissed off a lot of people.”
“How so?” Bear asked
“That was the old man,” Jack stepped back and closed the door. The cellar was soundproof as long as the door was shut. “Had Lester’s family taken care of.”
“You don’t think he’s behind—“
“No,” Jack said. “It’s something else. Wait here.”
Jack stepped into the cellar. “You ready to give me a name?” He positioned himself behind Lester.
“I told you Jack, I got nothing.”
“You know who that was?” Jack asked. He didn’t wait for Lester to answer. “That was the old man. You pissed a lot of people off, Lester. A lot of damn people.”
This was a game to Jack.  Whether or not Lester gave him a name, Jack was going to kill him. He’d be doing Lester a favor. Lester’s family was dead and the poor bastard would be devastated when he found out their fate. Besides, the old man would kill Lester if Jack didn’t, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be quick or painless. Why not save him the pain of knowing his family had been murdered?
“Do it!” Lester shouted.
Jack grabbed a piece of plexiglass to shield his body from the blood spray. He preferred to stay clean whenever possible. He fired one bullet into the back of Lester’s head and stepped back. 
Lester’s body slumped forward against the cinder block wall, slowly falling against the wall, leaving a trail of blood.
 Jack opened the door and waved Bear in the room. “Take care of that.”
Jack didn’t know exactly what Bear would do after he left the room, but Lester’s body would never be found. That was good enough for him. 
“Did you get it?” Bear asked.
“No,” Jack said. “Maybe the old man knows. I’ll find out when I complete this deal.”
Bear nodded.
Jack climbed the stairs. Noticed blood stains on his shirt. He rolled his eyes and ducked into the bathroom to wash up and change before leaving the building. They kept a change of clothes in the linen closet. Jack grabbed a casual outfit, baseball hat and a pair of sunglasses. 
He made a call to an associate who could modify the footage the news was showing and get some of the heat off of him. 
“Hello?”
“Hey Brandon. It’s Jack.” He put the phone on speaker so he could change and talk at the same time.
“Jesus, Jack. Your face is all over the news. What the hell you got yourself into?”
“Yeah, about that… I need a favor.”
“I’m already on it. But you are gonna owe me big time for this one. I’m talking a free job type favor.”
“You got it.” Jack hung up the phone and cursed to himself. Then he made his way to 52nd Street to find Mandy’s mom.

5
“You think he took care of Lester?”
“I really don’t care,” the old man replied, “I pay my men to kill. If Mr. Jack didn’t kill him, then they will.”
Charles laughed. “I see your point, Boss.” He sat back and thought for a second, rubbing his temples with his large fingers. “Hey, what are we going to do about Jack?”
“Oh, I have plans for Mr. Jack.” The old man smiled and clapped his bony hands together. “Big plans.”
“Care to elaborate?” Charles leaned in closer to the old man.
The old man’s smile broadened. “When the time comes, Mr. Charles, you will have all the details. For now, get your smelly breath out of my face.”
Charles sat back in his seat. He held his hand in front of his face and exhaled into it, checking to see how bad his breath smelled. He thought about pressing his boss for more information, but he knew that wouldn’t go over well. He’d seen his boss have men killed for less. No, now was not the time, the old man had made that clear. But as soon as the old man was ready to confide in him, Charles would be ready. He’d proven that over the last ten years. 
The old man turned his head away and Charles thought back to his first couple of years working for the old man…
***
He started off working as a mechanic for the old man. One thing that was different about this crime boss, he provided cars for his guys. And he always wanted his cars to be in top shape. He had a team of mechanics available 24 hours a day. Charles had never been involved in any criminal activity before this. He took the job for the pay. He had no idea who the old man was or what his business was, but he liked the idea of being a private mechanic. It sounded official.
He worked in the garage for two years. He was a good employee, kept his head down, and did his work. By this point he knew what was really going on and so did the other mechanics. Most of them knew before they took the job. Typically, the mechanics that worked for the old man were relatives of his more trusted employees. Only the mechanics didn’t have what it took to be a killer, at least the type of killers that could get away with murder. For some it was a mental thing, either they were careless or they were incapable of pulling the trigger or swinging a bat. For others it was physical, they’d be killed on their first assignment. But they all shared one common trait. They all thought they were bad asses. 
Charles ignored the banter and bullshitting that went on every day at work. Some of the other mechanics were offended by this and made remarks off to the side that Charles was too good for them. Individually they would never think about confronting Charles. At six foot six and two hundred eighty pounds he was massive. If he hadn’t dropped out of school he would have gone to the University of Miami on a football scholarship. 
One day four of the other mechanics decided they had enough of Charles and his my shit don’t stink attitude. They circled him with a plan to attack him, all of them armed with tools. It didn’t take long for Charles to realize what was going on. This wasn’t the first time he’d been jumped. It wouldn’t be the last.
Charles didn’t wait for the other mechanics to make their move. Those four dumbasses never stood a chance. He killed two of them and put the other two in the hospital. The injuries were so bad that the old man was able to blame it on a car lift collapsing. The police asked no questions. Of course, that was nothing new when the old man was involved.
The old man reviewed the footage of the fight. He liked what he saw and summoned Charles to his office. Charles was scared as he entered. He had twelve inches and one hundred twenty pounds on the old man. But he knew that men sometimes entered that office and didn’t leave under their own power. The old man was vicious and ruthless, which is exactly why he was one of the most powerful crime bosses on the east coast. 
“Mr. Charles,” the old man said. He sat with the back of his chair facing the doorway. “Please come in and have a seat.”
Charles sank down in the chair, his heart racing. “You wanted to see me, sir?”
“What is this sir talk? Just call me Boss.”
“Yes sir, I mean, Boss.”
“I heard about the garage incident. You killed four of my mechanics.”
“Boss, I... I’m sorry about that. They left me no choice. They surrounded me. They were all armed with tools. I guess my, my instincts kicked in.”
The old man spun around in his chair and glanced to the corner of the room, giving the man standing there a nod.
Charles tightened up and shut his eyes. He expected to feel the cold barrel of a gun press against the top of his head any second now. He raised his shoulders and hunched over slightly when he heard the door shut.
The old man laughed. “Mr. Charles, if I wanted you dead you would already be gone. Why would I invite you into my office to kill you?”
Charles slowly rose up and looked at the old man. The smile looked genuine and he was still alive. He turned his head and saw that the room was empty. “You… You’re not gonna kill me?”
“Kill you? God no! I want to promote you, Mr. Charles.”
“Promote me? What?”
“Those four men you killed,” said the old man, “they were not just mechanics. They were a hit team. I used them for jobs that had to look amateur. The kind of hits that would be too easy to pin on me if done by a professional. Do you understand?”
Charles shook his head at the old man.
“I know you are not stupid, Mr. Charles, so I will get right to the point. You took out four trained killers and suffered barely a scratch. I want you to be my bodyguard. You will drive my limo and accompany me all day, every day. Do you understand?”
This time Charles nodded. “Yes, sir. I mean, yes Boss.” He didn’t have a choice. If he said no then the old man would kill him. Even though he liked working in the garage, this was a chance to be in the action.
***
The car hit a pothole and Charles’s head bumped into the roof as the Mercedes bounced. The pain on the top of his head was enough to bring his attention back to Jack and the current situation. “He’s become a pain in the ass. Jack, that is.”
“But an efficient pain in the ass, Mr. Charles,” the old man said. “Much like yourself.” He grinned.
Charles chuckled while rubbing the top of his head. “I just don’t see where he gets off being so arrogant. I wish you would let me—“
“Mr. Charles,” the old man interrupted. “When the time comes, if the time should come, you will get the go ahead. For now, quit talking about Mr. Jack. It is giving me indigestion.”
“Ok, Boss. What do you think about Thai for dinner?”
The old man looked at him and smiled. “Good choice, Mr. Charles.”


6
Jack’s questioning cellar wasn’t too far from the address Mandy gave. He figured the little girl and her mother didn’t have much, judging by the neighborhood and condition of the building. The neighborhood was a known rough area, with far too many drug pushers, addicts, and prostitutes. He wondered if Mandy’s mother was one of those, or maybe all three.
He entered the old building and balked at the smell of stale urine. Damn bums, he muttered under his breath. There was no security in a building like this. Anyone could sneak in at night and sleep in the halls. These buildings had no public restrooms, so the derelicts would just urinate in the hallway. The supers of these buildings didn’t give a damn, so the whole place stunk to high hell.
The elevator had an Out of Order sign posted on it. Probably for the best. Who would want to get stuck in an elevator in a place like this? He pushed the door to the stairwell open. Heard the sounds of a prostitute servicing a man underneath. He imagined the prostitute was a woman, but you never know. Around these parts, people would do anything to get their next fix.
Jack worked his way up the industrial grey painted stairs to the fourth floor, cautiously approaching every turn and doorway. Anyone could be hiding out here, just waiting for some fool to come by that they could rob, rape, and/or kill.
He reached the fourth floor. Pushed open the door and entered the hallway. It was dark, most of the lights on the floor smashed out. He made his way down to apartment four and knocked on the door. No answer. He waited a minute, noticing how dented the door was and how the paint was cracking and falling off in chips. He knocked again. Still no answer. 
Jack turned the door knob and pushed the door open. He had a preconceived notion of what the apartment would look like from the moment he entered the building. It didn’t disappoint him. If anything, it was more disgusting than what he had imagined. That poor girl. I can’t believe she has to live in this shit hole. It disturbed him to think that sweet little girl would probably end up like her mother, an addicted prostitute drug dealer. That was his assumption at least.
He entered the apartment and closed the door behind him. There were no signs of anyone. “Hello?” he called out.
No response.
He started to reach for the light switch but stopped himself. He had been around long enough to know that you could wire a light switch to do some pretty nasty stuff. Instead he walked over to the windows and opened the blinds. 
As the light filled the room he realized that maybe Mandy’s mom wasn’t the slob he thought she was. The apartment wasn’t messy, it was ransacked. Jack’s instincts kicked in and he went on high alert. He pulled out his gun and proceeded cautiously through the rest of the apartment. 
The small apartment only had a few rooms. He checked them all to make sure no one was hiding. He knew he wouldn’t uncover any dead bodies. It didn’t smell bad enough. 
He entered the bedroom, which was as trashed as the rest of the apartment. On the dresser was a picture of Mandy with who Jack guessed was her mother. He removed the picture from the frame and stashed it in his backpack. On the floor lay a tattered old teddy bear. He grabbed it as well figuring Mandy would be happy to be reunited with her stuffed animal.
Jack searched the apartment thoroughly. Didn’t find anything concrete. This was a professional job, not a random break in. What had the woman had done to deserve this? The thought that whoever broke in might be watching crossed his mind. On top of that, the old man knew he had Lester, which meant Bear had been followed. Whoever followed Bear was likely positioned outside the questioning cellar, and they would have followed Jack here.
 He peeked out the door and saw the hallway was empty. Time to go.

Jack stood just inside the entrance of the apartment building. He surveyed the scene outside through the dirty window pane, looking for any sign of the old man’s crew waiting for him. 
A bum wearing an old fashioned hat and a trench coat pushed through the doorway. 
“Hey,” Jack said. “Give me your hat and coat.”
“Fuck you, asshole,” the bum said.
“I’ll pay you.”
“Fine. One thousand dollars and it’s yours, man.”
Jack pulled out a wad of cash and held out a hundred dollar bill in front of the bum’s face.
The bum’s eyes lit up. “You got a deal, bro!” He pulled off his coat and hat and handed them to Jack.
The stench of the trench coat overwhelmed Jack, but he didn’t have much choice. Without it, he’d be made the instant he walked out the door. He buttoned up the coat and put on the hat, praying that it wasn’t infested with lice. He hated the shaved head look. He opened the door, turned back to the man and flipped him the baseball cap and jacket he was wearing when he entered the building. 
Jack dipped his head as he took the steps from the building to the sidewalk. He spotted two of the old man’s guys out of the corner of his eye. They watched him as he walked down the stairs. He saw one of them point at him and Jack reached into his coat and grabbed the handle of his gun.
The men’s eyes shifted back to the door.
Jack breathed a sigh of relief as he turned onto the sidewalk and headed back towards Clarissa’s apartment.

7
A couple blocks away Jack glanced over and saw the old man’s white Mercedes stop next to him. His heart sank. He had been spotted leaving the building. 
“Heya Jack,” Charles said from inside the Mercedes
“What’s your ugly ass doing out here?” Jack asked.
“Picking up the old man’s dry cleaning,” Charles replied.
Jack faked a smile.
“I need you to get in the car, Jack.” Charles rested the barrel of his gun on the window. 
Jack looked for an escape route. The high walls of block wide apartment buildings trapped him.
“There’s nowhere to run, Jack. We got guys all around.”
Jack felt the barrel of a gun poking at his back. He slowly raised his arms. The person behind him reached around and pulled Jack’s gun out of his belt, then pushed him forward. Jack stumbled. Turned and saw the bum from the building wearing Jack’s hat and jacket.
“Like, thanks for the hundred, bro,” the bum said. 
Charles and the bum burst into laughter. 
Jack wondered how he had been so stupid. “Very clever, you got me.” He heard the car door open behind him and braced himself for what was to come. Bullet to the brain? Bat to the head?
Charles placed his massive hand on Jack’s shoulder. “C’mon, Jack. Why don’t you get in the car?”
Jack obliged. He had no choice.
The bum closed the door behind Jack and walked away, whistling a tune.
Charles signaled to the driver and the car pulled away. 
“Jack, give up the search for the girl’s mother. That’s a dead end,” said Charles.
“What? What are you talking about?” Jack asked. 
“The little girl was supposed to be a diversion. We put her there so no one would see you get into the Boss’s car.” Charles poked him in the chest.
Jack glared back at Charles and clenched his fists. I was set up. They planted the little girl. And now she and her mom are in danger because of me.
Charles looked down at Jack’s hands. “Don’t bother Jack. You wouldn’t stand a chance in the back of this car.” He paused. “So anyways, when you helped the little girl, you messed up the old man’s plans. The mom had done some work for him. She might be pissed that he kidnapped her and her daughter, but she wouldn’t dare stand up to him.”
“She was just standing there crying. She said she didn’t know where her mother was,” Jack said.
“Imagine you’re a 7 year old kid, Jack. What’d you do if I told you ‘don’t tell the truth,’ and that if you did I’d kill your mother? And no matter how safe you thought you were, I would be watching you and would chop your mommy’s head off if you said anything. Would you talk?” Charles’s eyes were wide, his hands out. 
“Guess being the old man’s top guy is a boring gig, huh, Chuck,” Jack said. “Getting your rocks off by scaring little girls now?”
Charles threw his head back and laughed. He didn’t get dirty much anymore, but you didn’t insult him like that. He stopped laughing. Slammed his large elbow into Jack’s face.
The impact knocked Jack’s head back into the seat. The elbow smashed his nose. His eyes teared up and he felt blood pouring over his upper lip. He reached up and felt his nose. It wasn’t broken. Charles didn’t have enough room to strike with that kind of force. But it was a clear reminder of the disadvantage Jack was at in the back seat of a car against a man like Charles. 
“You got anything else to say, Jack?” Charles chuckled.
Jack wiped his eyes and pinched his nose closed. He looked over at Charles who was still smiling. He stared at the scar that ran from an inch above Charles’s right eyebrow down to his jaw. 
Charles glanced over. His eyes narrowed and his lips thinned. “I ain’t forgot about that night, Jack. I’ll never forget that you did this.” He pointed to his scar, traced it halfway down.
Jack tried to clear the blood from his throat.
“I already told the old man, the moment he decides you are worthless to us, I want the job.” He flashed a smile at Jack. Charles had a smile like a hockey player. Jack counted at least four teeth missing.
Jack didn’t let any man intimidate him. But from a physical standpoint, Charles had him beat. Charles knew how to fight and he could take a hell of a lot of punishment. Jack had to watch himself in this situation. It could get out of control fast. If there was one person who the old man wouldn’t immediately kill for disobeying his orders, it was Charles. Sure, Charles might get an earful for killing Jack, but that would be about it. Charles knew it. More importantly, Jack knew it too.
The two men sat in silence for a few minutes until Charles reached to the side.
Jack turned, arms up ready to defend himself.
Charles laughed. “Jesus, Jack. I’m gettin a drink out for us.” He pulled out a fifth of whiskey out and retrieved two shot glasses from the center console. He poured each of them a shot. 
Jack took the shot glass and wiped the blood away from his lips with the sleeve of the dirty trench coat, trying not to think of what might be living on the rag. He tilted his head back, letting the whiskey burn its way down his throat. Then he held out the glass for another pour.
“Thirsty?” Charles asked him.
“Just pour me another.” 
Charles chuckled. “Hey, the more the merrier. Just gonna make it easier to kill you if need be.”
Jack forced a smile. “So what about the girl’s mom?”
“She’s of no use to the old man now. Garbage, that’s what he called her.”
“So where is she then?”
“What do you do with garbage, Jack?”
Jack reached back behind is head and grabbed a handful of hair.
“Forget about the mother, Jack.”
“Just tell me if she is dead.” He locked eyes with Charles.
“Just complete the deal, Jack. Complete the deal. Then you’ll get the mother.”
Jack held out the empty glass. “Let me out at the next corner and I’ll go get it.”
“You’re funny,” Charles said. But Charles wasn’t laughing. He looked more serious now than ever. “You think I’ll just let you out of this car? Have you lost your mind?”
“I’m not gonna take you there. If you want it, you let me out.”
“You’re in no position to demand anything, my friend,” said Charles. 
Jack rubbed his eyes and double checked his nose, making sure it hadn’t been broken. He had a knife hidden on his leg but there was no way he could get to it without Charles noticing. 
“Well? You gonna tell me where it’s at?” Charles asked. “And don’t tell me the whore’s apartment. We already searched there. Didn’t find nothing.”
Jack panicked at the thought of the old man’s guys with Clarissa and Mandy. He controlled his emotions and asked, “What whore? What apartment?”
“Let’s not play games.” Charles shifted his drink between his hands. “We’ve had someone on you since yesterday. You went into the apartment last night with the little girl and the briefcase.” Charles pointed to Jack’s left wrist. “Then you came out this morning with nothing. My guys tore through the apartment and found nothing. No briefcase. No documents. The whore said she knew nothing about it.” He stared at Jack and held out his hands.
Jack contemplated his next move. He wondered what they had done with Clarissa and Mandy. “Did you kill them?”
“Jack, we may be criminals but we don’t kill innocent children.” Charles said, turning his palms up. “The little girl is fine. We have her in a safe place.”
“What about the woman?”
“The whore? We have her too.”
Jack clenched his jaw. “Is she safe?”
“Well,” Charles paused. He searched for the right words. “She’s not dead, Jack. But we had to… question her.”
“Bastards,” Jack said.
“You have some dangerous friends, Jack. We had to make sure she wasn’t a threat. And we needed to know for sure what she knew about the documents.”
Jack was silent. He thought about what Clarissa had likely gone through. Tough didn’t begin to define her, and Jack had seen her take down a two hundred fifty pound man. But that was a drunken customer in an alley behind a club, not a group of trained killers.
“It’s nothing a little time and a few stitches aren’t going to take care of. So as long as we get what we want, she’ll be free to be your whore again.”
Jack couldn’t stop thinking about Mandy and how scared she must be. He remembered the tattered teddy bear he found in the apartment. He reached over his shoulder to grab his bag.
“Whoa, whoa! What are you doin?” Charles shouted. He pulled his gun out and jammed it into Jack’s stomach.
“Relax, Chuck,” he said. “I grabbed the girl’s teddy bear from her apartment. I just wanted to ask you to give it to her.” He held his breath waiting for the giant to pull the trigger or remove the gun from his stomach.
“Look at you,” Charles said, holstering his weapon. “Turned into a big pussy.”
He knew Charles a long time ago, before the big man was a badass. The big man had a soft spot for kids. Jack felt sure that Charles hated that the old man authorized taking the little girl. But Charles was a good soldier and did what he was told. 
Jack fished around the bottom of his bag until he found what he was really looking for. The brass knuckles felt cold against his sweaty palm. With his other hand he pulled out the stuffed bear. He held it up in front of Charles and beamed a big smile. 
“This will make her feel better, I’m sure of it.”
Charles didn’t look.
“C’mon, take a look, Chuck.”
“I told you not to call me Chuck, you arrogant prick. One more time…”
He didn’t get to finish the sentence. As Charles turned his head, Jack met it with a brass knuckle reinforced right hook. Charles’s forehead split open sideways on impact. Blood splattered on the ceiling, the seats, and all over both men. The big man’s eyes rolled back in his head as he slumped back against the door. 
The driver sat straight up, startled. “What the fuck did you do?”
Jack reached into Charles’ jacket and grabbed his pistol. He pointed it at the driver. “Don’t move a muscle unless I say so.”
The driver froze in place. Sweat covered his forehead. It started beading down his face. 
“Unlock the door and give me your cell,” Jack said.
The driver unlocked the car doors. Offered up his cell phone.
Jack slowly backed out of the car, keeping his gun trained on the driver’s head. He fired a shot into the navigation system and then took off.


8
“Wipe the blood from your face, child.”
Clarissa reached over, grabbed the towel lying next to her and wiped the blood and dirt off her face. The last eight hours had been hell. Three different interrogators had beaten her, each of them using a different tactic. They all wanted to know the location of the documents. She figured that with as much torture as she had gone through, they would believe her denials. But they all knew Jack, and anyone associated with him should be considered as trained and dangerous as him.
“Now, you are you going to tell me what I want to know?” asked the mysterious man.
She pushed her head and torso off the ground and looked up at him. This man was different. Not that big compared to the other three that had taken turns beating her. He looked to be as tall as her, but he probably didn’t weigh more than one hundred fifty pounds. His face drawn and pale, with a thin silver and grey mustache. However, he had a sinister look about him. His nose crooked like a fighter’s. His left eye was completely white, highlighted by the fact that the right one looked black. She would soon learn that the white eye was from a scalding hot ice pick shoved into it during an interrogation session. 
His eyes met her and he continued. “Or am I going to have to persuade you?” He put on a pair of dark leather gloves.
Clarissa steadied herself, waiting for the room to stop spinning. She sat up and stared at the man.
“I’m waiting.” He tapped his foot.
Clarissa cleared her throat to speak.
The man raised an eyebrow in anticipation.
Instead of speaking, she spat at him. She aimed for his face, but the beatings had left her weak. Her spittle sprayed over the floor and on his shoes. 
The man looked down at the mixture of blood and saliva covering his seven hundred dollar Fratelli Rossetti shoes. He shook his head and smiled at her. “If these shoes didn’t cost so much I’d break your ribs with them.”
Clarissa mustered up a laugh. “Who are you?”
“Why should I tell you?” the man asked.
“The other cowards did.”
“The other cowards also failed to coerce you to give up the information they were tasked to get from you.”
Clarissa smiled. She’d pissed the interrogators off, no doubt about that. They couldn’t get anything out of her. Not a single word.
The man smiled back. He seemed to be intrigued by her. “My name is Sinclair,” he said. Sinclair stepped back and grabbed a black leather bag from the table. It resembled one of those medical bags doctors carried around a hundred years ago.
She stared intently at Sinclair as he dug around in his bag. This is different. None of the other men had brought anything with them, just their fists. They used brute force on her. “You’re not like the others,” she said.
Sinclair looked down at her, his lips pressed tight. “Thank you, dear. I’m not part of the old man’s association. I work independently. People call me in when they need information extracted. They call me when no one else can crack the code.” He reached into his bag again, pulled out a large hypodermic needle and a vial of liquid. “I’m a specialist,” he said as he plunged the needle into the vial, filling it three quarters of the way to full. The needle slid out of the vile. He flicked the tip with his middle finger.
Clarissa steadied herself, removing any expression from her face. Her heart rate increased, as did her breathing. She wanted to ask what the needle was for, but she knew. Instead she asked, “Does it really do anything when you flick the end of a needle like that? I thought that was just to build a little suspense in a movie.”
Sinclair laughed. “You are something else, child.”
She smiled. Shrugged. She felt the sincerity in his words. But she wasn’t going to kid herself. In the end, this would go the same way as the other attempts to get her to talk had gone.
“Now, child, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way.”
Six hours ago Clarissa would have leapt at him, taken the syringe and plunged it into his neck. The hours of beatings had left her exhausted. She held out her arms, palms up and waited for him to inject the drug into her.
“Very nice,” Sinclair said. “I’ll make this quick.”

Clarissa’s eyelids fluttered. Her eyes reacted to the light. The world looked grey and blurry. The drug Sinclair injected into her knocked her out cold. For how long, though? She blinked and her vision started to clear. She saw his expensive shoes a few feet away from her face.
“Welcome back,” Sinclair said.
She tried to lift herself up but found that her arms wouldn’t move. She tried to kick her legs and nothing happened. She tried to talk but her mouth stayed shut. Her throat didn’t produce a single sound. She could feel. Her body tingled. The sting of the cuts and bruises hadn’t faded. She just couldn’t move.
“Not to worry,” he told her. “I’ve injected you with a paralytic agent. Your muscles are frozen, that is all. In a few minutes the ability to control your body will return. Try speaking now.”
Clarissa tried to talk. A squeak slipped from her throat. Her mouth remained closed, though, still unable to work the muscles of her face.
 “Excellent. Here’s how this will work. I’m going to ask you a question and you are going to give me an answer. Failure to provide me an answer will result in pain being inflicted upon you. Understand?”
Clarissa remained still.
“Blink twice to let me know that you understand,” he said.
She blinked her wide eyes twice.
His lips thinned. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to hit you. I don’t believe in that. I can see that they have thoroughly beaten you. Yet, where did that get them?” He shrugged. “You see, my methods are far more effective. A tough girl like you can take a fist to the face. But do you really want to lose your thumbs?” He held up a pair of garden shears, slamming the blades together to demonstrate.
A tear rolled down Clarissa’s cheek. Her lips trembled. She tried to force out a word but nothing happened.
“There, there. You have nothing to be afraid of. Tell me what I want to know and I’ll be on my way. Have you regained your voice?”
She looked away and closed her eyes. She enjoyed a few moments of silence, trying to convince herself this was just a dream. The hissing of a blowtorch disrupted the serenity she had built in her mind. She opened her eyes and looked up at Sinclair.
He held the end of an icepick over a flame. “I asked if you had regained your voice.” 
She refused to answer. Looked away again.
Sinclair knelt over her and whispered in her ear, “We can do this any way you like. It makes no difference to me.” He waited a few seconds for a response and then touched her cheek with the burning hot icepick. 
Clarissa gritted her teeth and did her best to hold in her scream. The pain increased with every second he held the burning icepick to her face. She yelled out, “Bastard!”
“Now that wasn’t so difficult, was it? Now that we have established you can speak, we will proceed with the questioning.” He lifted her off the ground and sat her in a chair fitted with restraints. He crossed the large leather belts across her torso, wrapping them around her arms. He also placed separate belts around her waist, above her knees, and across her shins, securing them to the chair. Sinclair grabbed his chair and supply bag. He placed his chair in front of Clarissa and sat down. “I’ve already provided you with instructions on how this works. So let’s get started.”
Clarissa looked down at her bound body. The feeling returned to her arms and legs, but she was in no position to defend herself. 
“First question. What is your name?”
She didn’t answer. 
He fired up the blowtorch and grabbed the shears. “The beauty of heating these up is that they will partly cauterize the remaining flesh after I cut off your thumb, reducing the amount of blood. Quite revolutionary for cleanup crews.”
She watched intently as the blades turned bright red. She knew she was dead. It would just be a matter of how much suffering she could tolerate before the final blow.
Sinclair leaned in and grabbed her right hand. “I will ask one more time. After that you lose your thumb. What is your name?”
She felt the heat from the blades. She clenched her fists. “Clarissa,” she whispered. “Clarissa Abbot.”
“Beautiful name, Ms. Abbot. I can’t believe you were almost willing to give up your thumb to withhold that information from me.” He scribbled her name into a notepad. 
She knew what he would do with that information. They probably figured that she wasn’t going to give them any information, but killing her would be a waste. However with her name they could track down her family and try to find someone close to her. If she wouldn’t talk to save her own life, maybe she would to save someone she loved. Fortunately, she had no one, except for Jack.
“Next question. What do you do for a living?”
“I’m a dancer.”
“Ah, ballet?”
She smiled at him. “Exotic.”
“Intriguing. Who is the little girl?”
“Mandy?” she asked.
“Is there more than one?”
“No. Mandy is her name. I thought you would know about her. I don’t know much about her. She was lost. Jack brought her to my apartment.”
“Tell me about Jack. How do you know him?”
“My father. He served under my father.”
“So your father introduced you to him?” he asked.
“Yes.” Her eyes cast down at the floor.
“Go on,” said Sinclair.
“Jack was the one who informed me that my father had been killed. And then, I don’t know.”
“I sense there is more, Ms. Abbot. Did Jack take you in after your father’s death?”
She laughed. “I was nineteen and had been on my own for two years.  I didn’t need a hero to take me in. He let me know if I ever needed anything he was there and could help.”
“Are you aware of Jack’s job?”
Clarissa nodded. She didn’t know all the details, but she knew enough.
“Jack was carrying a briefcase the night he came to your apartment. Correct?”
“Yeah, handcuffed to his wrist.”
“Did he tell you what was in the briefcase?”
“No,” Clarissa responded. “He never said anything about it. I didn’t ask, he didn’t tell.”
Sinclair reached for the icepick and blowtorch again. He repositioned himself and said, “Where is that briefcase now?”
She shook her head. Her eyes focused on the icepick. The burn on her face ached and she wondered if he was going to give her a matching one on the opposite cheek. 
“Are you sure?” he asked as he lit the blowtorch.
“Yes,” she replied. “Jack was gone before I woke up. He took it with him.”
“Did you see him take it with him?” Sinclair held the end of the icepick in the flame.
“Like I said, I was sleeping. When I got up, he was gone. So was the briefcase.”
“So you looked for the briefcase?”
“What? No, I mean, I just noticed it was gone.”
“How long have you been working for Jack?” His tone deepened, eyes narrowed to slits, and his lips drew thin and tight.
“Work for him? I don’t work for him. He’s just a friend.”
“Do you often let friends sleep over at your house?”
The questioning flustered her.
“I will ask you one more time, Clarissa. Where is the briefcase?” He turned off the blowtorch and put it on the table. Then he stood up and grabbed the back of her head pulling her hair back and forcing her face to look up at him. He held the icepick inches from her eye.
Clarissa started to cry. “I don’t know.”
“Clarissa, don’t lie to me. Where is the briefcase?”
“If I knew, I would tell you.”
“Don’t mess with me, Clarissa.” He leaned over so his face was barely hovering over hers. “Do you see my eye? Do you see my dead eye? That is what happens when a scalding hot icepick is stuck in an eye. Is this what you want?”
Clarissa sobbed. Her heart raced and her stomach tightened. She had never been this frightened before. “I don’t know.” 
Sinclair backed up and reignited the blow torch. “This is your last chance.” He cleared his throat and brushed strands of his silver and black hair out of his face. “Where is that briefcase?”
She said nothing and looked away. There was no hope. His gloved hand grabbed her chin and pull her face toward him.
“So be it, Ms. Abbot.” He moved the icepick directly above her eye. “I won’t do this quickly. You see, it’s rather painless once the pick penetrates your eye.” The real damage was the buildup of the event, the terror of knowing that a burning piece of metal was about to be inserted into her eye, blinding her. The fear spread as the glowing red icepick inched closer and closer. “Enjoy these last ten seconds of sight.”
The door to the cell slammed open. Sinclair let go of Clarissa’s face and turned around. “What the hell are you doing?”
Clarissa saw the outline of a large man in the doorway.
Charles stepped into the light. “Give me the whore.” Dried blood covered his face. A white bandage stained red covered his. A trickle of blood streamed down between his eyebrows and along the right side of his nose.
“The old man called me to extract information. You can have her when I’m done,” Sinclair said.
“You’re done,” Charles said. I’m relieving you of your duties.”
“Like hell I am. Go get the old man.”
Charles grabbed Sinclair by the throat and lifted him into the air. Sinclair swung the icepick and plunged it into the back of Charles’s shoulder. Charles hurled the man against the wall. Sinclair staggered to his feet. Charles charged and slammed his shoulder into Sinclair, driving him into the wall. He lifted Sinclair by his neck, punching him twice in the face. He let Sinclair go and watched his body collapse into a pile on the floor.
Then he turned his attention to Clarissa. “You’re mine.” He untied her restraints, threw her over his shoulder, and carried her out of the room. 
Part of her felt relieved. And the other part of her felt more terrified than ever.


9
Jack stood in the shadows, half a block from Clarissa’s apartment building. The briefcase and the documents it held were hidden inside. They were the key to getting Mandy and Clarissa out of the old man’s compound alive.
He knew the old man would have a team watching the apartment building, waiting for him. Like any tactical team, there would be a pattern to their movements. He studied the area to locate the men and dissect their patrol pattern. Two men stood on top of the building. A gap of 15 seconds where neither man monitored the front of the building occurred every two minutes. Ground level appeared easier. Two men patrolled on the ground. They walked around the building together, leaving a large gap of time where the front was unpatrolled. They heard about me. Must be scared to be alone.
Jack inched closer to the building, tight against a brick facade, staying out of the light. When the opportunity presented itself he sprinted to the entrance. He entered the building with the gun he stole from Charles drawn. He made his way to the apartment where he had hidden the briefcase. As he picked the lock again, he thought to himself, Who the hell is dumb enough to not use a deadbolt in this city? The latch clicked.
He pushed the door open and peeked inside. The large man sleeping on the couch was new. Last time the apartment had been completely empty. Jack wished the heavy man was wearing more than a pair of boxers with cartoons of puppies.
Jack slipped to the closet in the back corner of the room. The sleeping man coughed and seemed to be waking up. I’d kill for a suppressor for this gun right now. He held his breath until the man rolled over and went back to sleep. 
Jack opened the closet door and moved blankets and sheets around until he had the briefcase in his grasp. He backed out of the closet and turned to see a woman standing there, half naked. She, unlike her sleeping beau, looked good in her skivvies. At first he grinned and winked at her, but when she opened her mouth to scream he held the gun up in one hand and put his other hand to his mouth and gave her the universal signal for, “Shut the fuck up if you don’t want to die!”
She stood there, frozen. Arms held out. Mouth open. Unblinking. Jack fully expected her to urinate on herself.
He made his way back to the door, keeping his back against the wall. He kept the gun pointed up and his finger over his mouth. She turned her body, mirroring his movements. He opened the door and slipped out. Before completely closing the door he popped his head back in and said, “You really should use your deadbolt and get a chain lock as well. Especially with a body like that. This was just too easy.”
The man started to wake.
Jack smiled at the woman and closed the door. He wasn’t one hundred percent sure, but he thought she might have smiled back. She wanted him, he could tell.
Jack’s smile faded as he turned his attention to getting out of the building. He climbed the stairs to the second floor and ran to the back of the building. The hallway was dimly lit. He peered out the window. The dark alley behind the apartment building provided just the kind of cover he needed. He lifted the window and climbed onto the metal fire escape. He stuck a leg over the side of the fire escape. The sound of police cars approaching filled the air. “That son of a bitch,” he muttered, certain it was the fat man that placed the call. They did him a favor by calling the police. The men on the top of the building would have to hunker down so they wouldn’t be spotted, and the team that was patrolling outside would split, running off in two directions. At least, Jack hoped that would happen.
Jack made his way down to the ground, using the gaps between the large bricks that made up the exterior as handles and footholds. He crouched down as he heard the men on patrol approaching. Just as he expected, they each went a different direction after they reached the back of the building. He followed the heavier man, figuring he would quit running sooner. Jack Noble, above all else, considered himself a man of opportunity.
The heavy man impressed him, making it approximately a half mile before he stopped to rest and catch his breath. As Jack approached him, he deliberately stomped his feet on the sidewalk to alert the heavy man to his presence. Jack never got much pleasure out of attacking a man from behind. He’d do it if necessary. However, he liked to look his victim in the eye as he rendered them incapacitated. 
The man spun. His eyes widened at the sight of Jack, and he reached for his gun in between labored breaths. Jack closed the distance with a sprint, lunged at the man and delivered a strike to the his throat. The single blow collapsed the man’s windpipe. He fell to his knees and onto his stomach.
Jack searched through his victim’s pockets. He had never been inside the old man’s compound before, but he had heard plenty of tales from his associates. You needed an access card to get in the main gate as well as to enter certain rooms. He found the card tucked in a pocket on the inside of the man’s coat. He decided to keep the jacket and ditch the disgusting trench coat. Lastly, he grabbed the man’s gun and wallet. He slipped into the darkness. He had one more stop to make before going to the compound. 


10
Jack stood behind Bear’s apartment building for close to fifteen minutes. He was getting more agitated with every second that passed. “C’mon Bear!” he kept muttering under his breath. 
“I’m right here,” a deep voice said from behind.
“Jesus!” Jack said. “I would have killed you if I heard you coming up behind me like that.”
“You didn’t hear me, though. Did you?”
Jack wondered how a man that large could be so invisible and so quiet. He had been in several sticky situations with Bear and not once had the enemy got the drop on him. Jack could partner with any spy, thief, or killer-for-hire in the country. But time again he chose Bear.
“Did you bring everything?” asked Jack.
Bear rolled his eyes at him and sighed. “Really, Jack?” He held out a duffel bag.
Jack grabbed the bag and inspected the weapons one by one to make sure everything was there. “Ok. Looks good to me.”
“When will you stop doubting me?” Bear said with a laugh.
“When we can get through one of these without me having to save your ass,” Jack said.
Bear laughed.
The stress of the day had finally got to Jack. These missions usually didn’t involve personal feelings. But tonight was different. It was his fault that two women and one little girl were in danger of losing their lives. He swore an oath to a dying man to protect Clarissa. He might as well have done the same for Mandy, because there was no way he was going to let her or her mother, if she was still alive, die.
Jack shushed Bear to get him to be quiet, but the large man’s full belly laugh was too much for him and he joined in. They were in hysterics. So much so that they didn’t notice one of the a man sneaking up on them. 
“Freeze!” 
The two men turned to see the man standing there with a gun pointed at them. Their laughter stopped but the smiles lingered.
“What do you make of this, Jack?” asked Bear.
“Hmmm, not sure, Bear,” Jack replied. “There’s only one, so it’s not an asshole convention.”
Bear chuckled.
“You know you’re not getting paid for this one, Bear. You don’t have to laugh at my jokes,” Jack said.
“In that case I don’t know if this is worth it.” Bear acted like he was going to walk away.
“You two just shut up. Shut up or I’ll shoot,” the man said.
Jack gave Bear a look. The two had worked together so long that they could communicate without saying a word. Time was running out. The man’s partner would be coming around soon. Jack was surprised he wasn’t there already.
Bear winked at Jack. The big man clutched his chest with both hands and fell to his knees. His eyes rolled back in his head. He hit the ground while letting out a loud groan.
“Bear,” Jack said.
“What the hell is wrong with him?” the man asked.
“It looks like he is having a heart attack.”
“Bullshit,” the man said while pointing at Bear. “What are you two trying to pu—“
That was all he got out. The instant the man looked down at Bear, Jack lifted his right knee and pulled out the tactical sidekick boot knife he kept strapped to his calf. In one fluid motion he closed the gap and plunged the knife into the man’s neck severing his carotid artery. Jack regained his balance and sliced the knife across the man’s neck, sealing his fate. 
“Let’s get the fuck outta here, Bear.”
They ran for a block and got in one of Bear’s cars. Hopefully the old man hadn’t made this one yet.


11
“You’re a lucky bitch. You know that?”
Clarissa didn’t say anything. She just stared at the scar running down Charles’s face. 
“The old man thinks you are a valuable asset, or some shit like that. If it were me, I’d kill you. Slowly, though. It wouldn’t happen in one night.” He shifted in his seat. “I’d let hope stay alive in you for a couple days. Let you keep thinking that your boyfriend was gonna show up and be the hero. Rescue you or some shit. Know what I mean?”
Clarissa raised her hand to her forehead and traced an imaginary line down her face. She saw that her mocking started to piss him off. “How’d you get that nasty, disgusting scar?” She already knew the story. Jack had told her a dozen times about the night Charles tried to kill Bear and Jack stepped in to save his friend’s life.  She watched with amusement as Charles’s eyes widened and his nostrils flared out in anger.
He stood, took off his jacket, turned slightly and hung it over the chair he had been sitting in. He glared at her while removing the five rings that normally adorned his large fingers. Rings were a point of contention among these guys. Some enjoyed the extra damage a large ring could inflict on their target. But others didn’t enjoy cleaning the blood out of their favorite rings so when given a choice, they never wore them in a fight. Or as in this case, a beating.
“Afraid of getting your pretty jewelry dirty?”
Charles bared his teeth at her as he tilted his neck side to side. She cringed at the slow popping sounds that emanated as he cracked his neck. He shrugged his shoulders. Pop, pop, pop, pop. He looked like a fighter getting ready to go 12 rounds.
He glared at her. “You stupid bitch.” 
“You can’t touch me,” she said. “I heard the old man tell you that.”
“No, he said I couldn’t kill you.” Charles smiled. “There was nothing about touching you.” His eyes worked over her body.
She tensed as he approached. The restraints held her tight, and there was little she could do to defend herself. She steadied herself for what was to come. 
He stood in front of her, his body massive, built like a brick wall. He took a step back and leaned over her, placing his hands on either side of her head.
“You were admiring my scar earlier,” he said with a smile. “You know how I got this scar?” He raised an eyebrow.
Clarissa said nothing. She didn’t even blink. Just continued to stare him in the eye.
“Your boyfriend gave it to me, the dumb fuck. He was helping us on a job…”
Clarissa interrupted him, “I don’t need a history lesson, asshole. I know all about your beauty mark. So get your stank breath out of my damn face.”
Charles smiled at her and stood up. “You’re feisty.” He licked his lips. “I like that.”
She didn’t respond. She just watched him as he unbuttoned his shirt and took it off. He reached down and grabbed her by the jaw. 
“You like what you see?”
“Fuck you.” Her arms pulled at the restraints.
“That’s the point,” he said.
He leaned over and ripped her blouse open. Clarissa closed her eyes and listened to the sound of her shirt buttons bouncing around on the floor. A lump formed in her throat. Tears welled up in her eyes. Get ahold of yourself. Don’t cry for this asshole. She refused to allow him the pleasure of scaring her.
“Yeah, I like that,” he said glaring down at her while wiping away the tears that formed in her eyes. He placed his massive hands on her shoulders and massaged her upper back and her neck. She fought with everything she had not to cringe at his touch. “Maybe when this is all over, you and me can take a trip to the islands. The Boss has a nice setup down there.”
“Screw you,” she whispered.
“That would be included in the daily activities.”
Clarissa stared at the grey concrete wall. She couldn’t look him in the eye anymore.
“Don’t worry, I’m gonna take really good care..” His cell phone interrupted him. “For chrissakes.”
She watched him lumber over to his coat, pulling his pants up so he didn’t trip over them. If only she could free her hand or her leg, she could surprise him when he got back. She might not be built like a boxer, but she knew where to strike a man to take him down. Her father and Jack had given her plenty of lessons in self-defense and she had no problem putting those lessons into action.
“What?” he shouted into his phone. He stood there with the cell phone pressed against his ear while holding his pants up with his other hand. “Ok boss, I’ll be there in a minute.” 
“Leaving so soon?” Clarissa asked.
He said nothing. He walked back and stopped a few feet in front of her. 
“Run to your boss, bitch,” Clarissa said.
Charles smiled at her.
She didn’t know how much antagonizing he could take.
He started to turn towards the door and then stopped. “Fuck you,” he said as he delivered a kick to her chest that sent her and the chair reeling back into the wall. Her head hit the concrete wall, knocking her out. The chair tipped over onto the floor and she lie there with a small pool of blood forming around her head.


12
Jack had never been inside the old man’s compound. Neither had Bear. But both men had heard plenty of stories about the place. The prostitutes the old man kept on staff; the glamorous guest accommodations; the three hole golf course; and the interrogation and prison cells underground. Jack had a pretty good idea where Clarissa and Mandy were being kept.
“So what’s the plan?” asked Bear.
Jack pulled out the access card and held it up for Bear to see. “This will get us in. I swiped it off of one of the men patrolling Clarissa’s building.” 
“And then what?”
“I’ve got something he wants. He won’t do anything to me,” Jack said. 
“You got the docs with you?”
“No,” Jack said. “They are hidden.” 
“That’s comforting,” Bear said. “What about me?”
Jack smiled at his large friend. “Don’t worry, they won’t hurt you either.”
“They can’t.”
The compound was well guarded. In the fifteen minutes they had been scouting the entrance they counted at least 4 sets of patrolling guards, ensuring that the entrance remained in sight at all times. Two more guards were positioned inside the gate, and at least half a dozen cameras perched high and scanning in all directions.
“Ten,” Bear said.
“Yeah. Plus the cameras.”
“Even if we get in, they are gonna have us spotted, Jack. And there is no way we get in without killing at least 6 of those guards.”
Jack started to rethink his idea. His entire plan was based on emotion. There was no logic to it. He had seen the results of plans like this. They’d would be better off shooting themselves than walking into a hornet’s nest unannounced. “Dammit.” He pulled out his cell phone. 
“What you doing?”
“I’m going to announce our presence.”
“Are you friggin kidding me? Jack, think about this for a second.”
“He’s not going to do anything. Those documents are worth more to him than anything else.”
“What the frig are these documents?”
Jack frowned and gave Bear a look. Not just any look, the look. “You know better than to ask questions like that.”
Bear wiped the sweat from his large forehead. “Christ almighty. Why do I keep working with you?”
Jack laughed. “You’d be bored without me, Bear. Admit it.”
The large man forced a smile while shaking his head. “Go on then. Call him up.”
Jack searched through his cell’s call history until he reached the old man’s number. He highlighted it and hit send. 
“Hello, Mr. Jack. I have been waiting for you. I’m glad to see you weren’t foolish enough to use that key card to come through the front gate.”
“Let them go,” Jack said.
“Will you not do me the courtesy of some polite conversation first?”
“Fuck you.”
“Mr. Jack, your profanity will not be tolerated. One more outburst and the little girl loses a finger.”
Jack bit his tongue. Anger and frustration built up, and he wished they had just gone through the front gate instead. He took a deep breath to settle himself. “That won’t be necessary.”
“Good, I am glad you see it my way, Mr. Jack.”
He hated the way the old man called him Mr. Jack. For ten years he had put with that shit and didn’t even know the old man’s first or last name. Nobody knew his name as far as Jack knew. He had a hunch that Charles did, but when he asked Charles, the big oaf smiled and said ‘Boss.’
“Mr. Jack, you have something I want. I have some things that you want. I have a proposal for you.”
“I’m listening.”
“In one half hour I will send one of my employees outside. He will exit the gate and walk twenty five feet exactly. You will come down from your hiding spot at the top of the hill and hand him the documents. After Mr. Charles and I have verified the contents of the documents I will release the little girl and the whore. Are we in agreement?”
“And the girl’s mother?”
The old man raised his voice. “Mr. Jack, this is not a time for questions. Are we in agreement?”
“No deal,” replied Jack. “You know I can sell those docs to the highest bidder and get ten times what you are paying me.”
The old man laughed. “Are you trying to play hardball with me young man?”
“What assurance do I have you will let them go?”
“Assurance? In all the years we have worked together, have we ever had an issue, Mr. Jack?”
“No. But then again, you never tried to have me killed like today,” Jack replied.
“At least that you are aware of, Mr. Jack,” the old man said.
“Hang on.” Jack covered the mouthpiece of the phone and talked it over with Bear. “I don’t trust him on this Bear. He wants the documents and says he’ll release them after that.”
Bear’s advice was simple and to the point. “Tell him to eat shit.”
Jack returned to the phone. “I need more than that. Release one of them to me. Then I’ll go get the documents. We can meet somewhere public to complete the exchange.”
“Mr. Jack, you listen to me,” said the old man in a tone than Jack had never heard before. “I employ over 200 of the finest hit men, thieves, and cleaners on the east coast. I can make you disappear with a snap of my fingers,” he snapped his fingers close to the phone for emphasis. “Who do you think you are to demand this of me?”
“With all due respect old man,” Jack said. “If they are the best, then why did you need me for this job?”
The old man said nothing. Jack heard muffled voices in the background. The old man was discussing it with Charles. Jack had a feeling this would work in his favor. Charles would do anything to create a situation where he and Jack would meet face to face. That meant he would do his best to persuade the old man to agree to Jack’s terms.
“Mr. Jack, you have a deal.”
Jack breathed a sigh of relief and gave Bear a thumbs up. The big guy wiped his brow and exhaled loudly while pretending to fall over and pass out.
“Choose now,” the old man said.
“Send out the little girl and her mother.”
“Oh, Mr. Jack, I am sorry to tell you that while the little girl is here with me, her mother did not make it.”
Jack fought back his rage. He pictured the old man sitting there with the girl next to him, stroking her hair as he talked about her mother’s death. He wondered when it happened, how it happened. He felt guilty. She died because of him. Mandy was an orphan because of him.
“Do you still want the girl, Mr. Jack? Or shall I send for the whore?”
“The girl,” Jack said. He knew Clarissa could take care of herself. These guys couldn’t break her.
“She will be out in twenty minutes. When the gate opens she will be sent out alone. You will meet her on the other side of the street. Do not step foot in the street, Mr. Jack. If you do so my guards will be instructed to shoot you, and the little girl.”

Twenty minutes passed. Bear stayed on the hill to the north. Jack stood across the street in front of the gate. He could make out four guards flanking either side of the gate. All of them had their guns trained on him. He looked down in amusement at the red lights flickering around on his chest. Amateurs.  He smiled and waved at the hidden gunmen. 
The area behind the gate lit up when the door opened. He could make out the shape of a little girl walking through the courtyard. Mandy. The gate opened automatically. She slowly approached the curb. She saw Jack and smiled.
He held a hand up to keep her from running into the street. He checked to make sure no cars were coming and then motioned for her to cross over to him.
Mandy ran as fast as she could and Jack knelt down holding his arms open for her. She had the teddy bear grasped tightly in her right hand. That fucking softie he gave it to her. Jack held her tightly, kissed her forehead, and told her everything was going to be ok. “No one is ever gonna take you again,” he said.
The guards kept their guns trained on Jack. He saw the red lights dancing on his chest and the back of the little girl’s head. “You fucking bastards,” he said. “She’s a little girl. Pull your weapons.” They didn’t budge. Jack lifted the girl and held her close to his chest with one arm. His other hand held his gun tight. He backed up slowly, letting the night envelop them.


13
Jack and Bear owned or leased more than thirty five apartments and homes. Twenty of them were located in or just outside of the city. Last night they went to the one furthest from the old man’s compound. You were never fully out of his reach though. His network was vast. He owned police precincts. He owned other criminal organizations. The Godfather had nothing on this man. 
Jack sat in a rocking chair on the front porch. He had been stationed there since before dawn. Watching. Waiting. He expected one of the old man’s teams to show up any moment.  He was so focused on the street and surrounding homes he didn’t notice when Bear sat down next to him.
“Nice morning,” said Bear.
“Jesus, Bear. Scared the shit out of me.”
Bear let out a belly laugh and handed Jack a cup of coffee.
“Thanks,” Jack said. He took the mug and sipped on the coffee. “She still asleep?”
“Sound.”
“Poor thing. She must have been in a panic the whole time.”
Bear nodded.
“I want to take him down, Bear.”
Bear raised an eyebrow and looked at him out of the corner of his eye while scratching his bushy beard.
“I know it won’t happen overnight, but we can do it.”
“Jack, you need to relax. Get this job done and then take a few weeks to think about it. You don’t just go around declaring war on the old man. He has more contacts inside the government than you and I combined.”
Jack said nothing. His eyes scanned the street looking for anything out of the ordinary.
“He don’t know about this place, Jack.” Bear stood and opened the screen door. “C’mon, let’s get some breakfast and get the little girl ready to move.”
Jack followed Bear into the house, sat down at the kitchen table and continued to look out the window for any sign of the old man’s guys. 
“Mornin mister Jack,” a soft voice said. 
Jack turned and smiled. Mandy was standing there, holding her teddy bear, eyes bright and blue. “How’re you, sweetheart?”
She shrugged.
“What would you like for breakfast?” He stood and walked to the cupboard to find some cereal, certain she would want something loaded with sugar.
“Can I have some eggs?”
“Sure sweetie. Bet you didn’t know that Bear over there is the finest egg-chef in the northeast!”
“Your name is Bear?” she asked.
“Yeah. That ok with you?”
“Like Ted E. Bear,” she asked. She smiled, holding up her tattered teddy bear.
The big man chuckled. “No, not teddy. More like Grizz Lee Bear.” He lifted his arms, threw his head back and made a loud roaring sound.
Mandy laughed uncontrollably and before long the two men joined her.
The laughter was interrupted by the sound of Jack’s cell phone ringing. “It’s the old man,” he said while holding up the phone.
Bear nodded. “C’mon Mandy, let’s go see what’s on TV.”
The little girl hopped up and followed Bear into the other room.
“I’m here,” Jack said into the phone.
“Mr. Jack, I will keep this brief.”
“Let me talk to Clarissa.”
“There is no time for that, Mr. Jack.”
“You want the documents, you’ll let me talk to her.” Jack wasn’t sure if it was the lack of sleep, but he had never talked to the old man like this before.
There was silence on the other end. Jack heard muffled voices and thought he could make out the old man telling Charles to bring the girl over.
“Jack,” a soft voice said through the phone.
“Jesus, Clarissa, I’m sorry. You ok?”
“A bit banged up, slight concussion. But other than that I’m alright.”
“I’m gonna clean this up,” he said. “I need you to stay strong for a bit longer. He won’t do anything to you until he has what he wants. Hang in there, OK?”
“OK.”
“Now say goodbye. I need to wrap this up.”
“Goodbye, Jack.”
The old man returned to the line. “Mr. Jack. Paris. Thursday. Bring the documents. Go alone. Understood?”
“Yeah, I got it,” Jack replied. “Where do you want—”
The old man cut him off. “We’ll be in touch Thursday morning. Goodbye.”
The line went dead.
“Son of a bitch,” Jack said.
Bear was leaning against the refrigerator. He stood a good six inches taller than the appliance. “What did he say?”
“I have to go to Paris… alone. I have to be there by Thursday,” Jack said. He thought for a second and then started to ask, “Bear, can you—”
“You don’t have to ask. I won’t let her out of my sight.”
Jack smiled at him. Thanks weren’t necessary. “We should get out of this house. Best to consider it a compromised location from now on.”


14
Jack sat alone at an empty gate in the international terminal of Hartsfield-Jackson airport in Atlanta, waiting for his flight to Paris. A man had been watching him for the past twenty five minutes. The man had even followed him to the bathroom. He didn’t go in with Jack, though. When Jack exited, the man followed him back to the gate, always staying fifty feet or so away. The man was a Fed. Maybe even a spook. The blue suit and conservative red tie with vertical blue stripes was a giveaway. Some might say he could just be a businessman. But a businessman wouldn’t wear those shoes with a twelve hundred dollar suit. Jack didn’t look at him long enough to be able to place him, but he knew him.
Jack feigned interest in a magazine, checking on his chaperone from time to time. He looked up and realized the man was gone. He looked around. The man was out of sight.
“Hello, Jack.” 
Jack turned to face the man standing behind him. “Do I know you, friend?”
“Seriously, Jack? You don’t remember me?” He grinned.
Two incisors on the right side. Jack realized who it was. “Jesus, Frank. I thought I was going to  have to kill you! You look different. Not in a good way, either.”
Frank laughed. “You don’t stand a chance against me, Jack.”
“Hey, how’s that top secret non-existent agency you work for doing?”
“Don’t have a clue what you are talking about, Jack. But if I did, I’d say great.” Frank winked.
The small talk continued for a few more minutes. Jack was well aware who Frank was. He hadn’t dealt with him in two years now, but routinely did jobs for his boss. They called Jack in when they needed dirty work done. The kind of jobs that they couldn’t just explain away to their superiors.
“Cut to the chase, Frank. What do you need me to do?”
“We became aware that you’re traveling to Paris this morning. We have some laundry that needs to be washed over there. Kind of thing that is right up your alley.”
Jack looked over his shoulder to make sure no one was paying attention to them. “Rate?”
“One hundred.”
Jack raised an eyebrow. “That is quite generous. But my reasons for traveling, you know, I’m going to be pretty tight for time. And once my business is resolved, I might be too weighed down to complete another job.”
“Two hundred,” Frank said.
“Deal,” Jack said. He held out his hand. “Details?”
Frank pulled out a manila folder and handed it to Jack. “It’s all in there. I don’t need to tell you that we never had this conversation, right Jack?”
Both men rose to their feet. Jack extended his hand. “What conversation?” He watched as Frank walked away and then peeked down at the manila folder and shook his head in amusement. All the technology available today and one of the most secret organizations in the country, hell in the world, just gave him an assignment in a manila folder. 
“Now boarding First Class passengers for Air France flight 8985, non-stop to Charles de Gaulle airport, Paris,” the announcement said over the intercom.
Jack tucked the manila folder into his carry on and walked toward the gate. The flight attendant took his ticket and welcomed him to the flight. He strolled down the tube and settled into his first class seat. Ordered a drink and sat back in the oversized seat. He felt relaxed for the first time in weeks.
Jack thought about Mandy, reassured by the fact that she was with Bear. They had flown to Atlanta together and then the trio split up. Bear and Mandy were flying to San Diego to lay low for a few days. Jack was travelling to Paris to complete the deal with the old man and get Clarissa.
He thought about Clarissa and the oath he had made to her father as the man died in his arms. He had promised that nothing bad would ever happen to her. He sipped his whiskey and winced as he came to grips with his failure to uphold his oath to Roger. I’m gonna rescue her Rog, I promise you that.
He followed his first drink with two more. The alcohol did its job and he started to feel numb. He would arrive in Paris Monday afternoon. That would leave him plenty of time to take care of the job for the Feds while he scouted possible locations for the document exchange with the old man.
He figured that he better get acquainted with his new assignment and opened up the manila folder. He raised an eyebrow and his mouth hung open when he saw the photograph. “How about that, no wonder they need me.” He closed the folder and glanced around to make sure no one was watching him. He caught the eye of the pretty flight attendant walking down the aisle. “Stewardess, refill please.”

Purchase the Noble Intentions: Season One (episodes 1 – 5) compilation and save over 50%.
Visit LTRYAN.com/noble-intentions/ for additional purchasing options.

Enjoy this story? Like Jack Noble on Facebook and become an official fan:

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Jack-Noble/333773700042676
Coming Soon
Noble Beginnings: A Jack Noble Novel – October 1st, 2012
Noble Intentions: Season Two – mid-October to early November
Jack Noble Shorts and Noble Shorts
Visit http://ltryan.com/noble-intentions/ for up to date release information.

A Note From the Author
Thank you for purchasing my story! If you enjoyed the story you just read I would greatly appreciate your spreading the word by telling your friends on Facebook, Twitter, and on your blog (if you have one). I would also appreciate if you could take a moment and return to the amazon page for this book and leave a short, honest review. I would love to hear your opinion.
-L.T Ryan