"I've done what you've asked of me. That should count for something," the man said.
"Yes. You have done all we've asked. It's just that..."
"That what? Enough is never enough for you people. Is it? I just want to try and put my life back together."
The man in the dark suit crossed his opposite leg. He removed a silver cigarette case from the inside pocket of his coat. He deftly removed a cigarette and lit it in a few short seconds. As he finished the exhalation of smoke, he said, "Life back together? We both know there's no putting it back the way it was."
"I didn't say 'the way it was'!" he yelled.
"No need to get angry, son. That won't resolve anything, will it?"
William tried to relax himself. "I've lost so much. Can't I get any of it back?"
"That's outside of our operations, William. You know that."
"You could pull some strings..."
"No other agency likes to work with us. Only the highest ranking officials of the other bureaus ever request anything. We're lucky that way." He smiled a wide, self-satisfied grin.
The man dropped his chin to chest and rested, gathering his thoughts. He decided then and there he would do what he could to honor his lost family members. His surviving son, he would train. Somebody would need to teach these devils a lesson down the road.
That moment. It must've been seven years ago now. Seven years since he leaped across the table and snapped the agency
man's neck. Seven years since the goon squad rushed the room and pinned him to the table. Pinned him to the table while they made him watch the monitor. A live video being shot at his home. He watched his son murdered and wife raped and killed at the hands of the agency. Seven years ago since he nearly went mad. But instead he joined them. What other choice was there?
"If at first you don't succeed," he thought to himself.
No comments:
Post a Comment