|THE FACELESS KILLER| Hiatus

| F I V E |

FBI Headquarters,

16hrs:09mns

***

He impatiently waited for the text, what the hell was taking soo long—he thought to himself.

After he cleared up all errors from the citation code—which gave most of his colleagues' menacing headaches—he went back to his office.

Petulantly checking the clock five times in the last minute, he made the first move.

Retrieving his cell from his back pocket he dialed the unsaved number—ringing three times it finally went through.

Heavy breathing filled his auricles, "Hello..." the person on the other end said out of breath.

"Well... what's the update?" He said patience sinking low.

"Everything is set up here, we just need the signal," the individual said, confidence oozing from their statement.

"Good. Then let the fun begin," he voiced, disruption dripping from his syllables.

Hanging up, he brushed his hands together forming a plan in his mind—everything is set, he repeated lowly to himself.

Complacent with his plan set in motion, he presented himself to his incommodious boss—code in hand.

Knocking twice, Sam tapped his shoulder arriving on time to present their unique code— Max nodded acknowledging his partners' presence beside him.

"In," Their boss grunted from the other side of the door.

Pacing the room—agitated lines marred his forehead as he continued arguing with the person on the other side of the line.

"...No! That should be done today. I better receive a decent answer when I call later, or there will be hell to pay," he threatened before hanging up.

Looking at each other with questions blooming in their minds, they simply shrugged their shoulders concluding that whatever happened was none of their business.

"We're done with the code. We can show you how to activate it," Max offered.

"That would not be necessary. Thank you for the work put in, I'll add the amount into your account once you leave," he stated in a dismissive tone.

"Okay, boss. We'll take it that you're having a bad day so we will get out of your hair," Max stated in a pleasant tone.

One thing that slipped Max's mind was that their boss was balding. His statement angered their boss pushing him over the edge.

His voice boomed in an expert manner, "Get out! Now!" Filtering out of the office, they got out unscathed. Once they reached a desolate corridor their laughter bounced off the walls.

"We'll get out of your hair," Sam mimicked his friends' statement, earning him yet another boisterous cackle. "What were you thinking?" He questioned his friend once he caught hold of himself.

"That's the thing, I wasn't," shrugging his shoulders, his eyes averted back to the office he got out of. "That old geezer needs to let loose, just like his hair."

Another round of good, well-deserved laughter came and went.

–x–

"Goodnight mate, see ya tomorrow," Sam called out as he stopped the elevator from closing him out.

"Night, man," Max repeated out.

Inserting a flash drive into his laptop he scanned the files he needed; saving, deleting, and editing. Bypassing security passwords he hacked into the company's database, getting all personal information of the people he needed he sent it to someone that would make use of them.

Deleting his digital footprints, he logged out of his system and called it a night. His pocket buzzed with an incoming call.

Removing it, he answered, "You got the goods?" waiting for an affirmative answer he packed his supplies into his backpack. "Got everything, boss," the individual replied. "Good, you know what to do next."

Hanging up, he locked his office and used the stairs to get to his car.

The hairs at the back of his head stood at attention, he blocked his thoughts deeming it was the cold air that nipped at his e skin.

Unlocking the driver's side door, his body was jostled firmly to the car. Losing balance, he fell to the cold hard paved ground. Lifting his frame hurriedly, a pounding pain sprung to his temple where his head had collided with the metal part of the door.

Grunting in pain, he used his car to support his frame. Scanning his surrounding, he found nothing suspicious. His attacker had vanished into thin air; what was that all about? He thought quizzically.

Entering his car, he threw his backpack at the back. Something on the floor grabbed his attention.

"That wasn't there in the morning," he voiced to no one in particular.

Picking up the envelope, he gently ripped it and took out the paper in it. Unfolding it, his heart rate skyrocketed at the message written on it with cut out letters from magazines.

'Watch yourself! Stop, before it gets messy!'

Checking on his rearview mirror, his sights set on a silhouette blanketed by the dark. Turning his body around, the figure had blended with the darkness. Blinking multiple times willing the figure to come into existence, he knew that wouldn't do him good.

Putting pressure on his left leg he hit the gas, wheels squeaked from the force on the pavement leaving trails at its wake.