Saving Hope

XXVI. The Bad Guy

He was known as Falcon among the people who were hunting him down, just BOSS to those who worked for him, and Anthony Garbanzos to those who knew his transactions—just like Devin.

The Falcon looked like any typical grandfathers out there—white hair, wrinkled face, bushy eyebrows and a big smile—but that was just that. The guy was too powerful that those who knew him could never picture him as an old man holding a fishing rod with his grandson. But he was not the biggest boss. The Falcon worked for a bigger one, a much powerful one. Devin could not help but bitterly think that he would be giving away to these people the very things they feared the most—the very things that could throw them behind bars for life.

He was sitting right across Devin who was still tied up to the chair. The only other person in the room with them was Burton who was sitting in one corner, looking uninterested. It was a bluff, Devin knew. They wanted him to feel uneasy by being easy on him. He also knew that the other two men were outside the door just waiting for him to run out and kill him. And there could be others as well, he thought. The Falcon would not have come here alone.

“We’ve been looking for you for days, Devin,” the Falcon said with a laughing voice that did not sound happy at all. It actually sounded eerie.

“As I have heard,” said Devin.

“You should not have disappeared like that, you know. I liked it better when I knew exactly where you were.”

Devin wanted to throw Burton an accusing look but the man was hiding behind the damn papers again, probably pretending he was inside a café. Devin did not say anything.

“It was a stupid plan, Burton,” said the Falcon. “Putting him beside that psycho.”

Burton just grumbled something and went back to reading.

The Falcon returned his eyes on Devin. “I have tried to be patient, you know. Because I hate blood. That’s why you are still in one piece. I hate to see anyone drooling and bleeding blood. I can’t sleep whenever I am exposed to so much killing.” He waved his hand in the air as if trying to erase an image before him. “That’s why I work the papers. I work behind a desk. I do the transactions. But I never go to the sites. You can see it now, do you?” His eyes held Devin’s for a time before he chuckled. “But now I am here because I want you to personally tell me where you hid them.”

“Somewhere safe,” Devin answered.

The Falcon pretended to consider his answer before he shook his head at Devin, clucking his tongue. “Devin, you must understand that you are still alive because of me. You have been alive for two years because of me. Because, I have explained, I hate blood. I hate painful screaming,” he said with a cringe. “And right now, I hate to do that to you too. You should have just told Burton the truth a long time ago. Who knows? You might still be alive right now, walking the streets like nothing happened. But you decided to disappear and you won’t tell us where you hid those documents!” He shouted the last three words, his saliva flying across toward Devin’s face. It took him just two seconds to return his calm demeanor but his face was still red. The door opened and two men Devin never saw before poked their heads in to check what caused the shouting. The Falcon raised his hand and the two men closed the door again. “I am sorry about that,” he said to Devin, straightening his tie. “I am just under so much stress right now. As the man responsible for all transactions and reports, it is my duty to make sure that everything is in their proper place. But the documents have been misplaced for two long years and I am getting impatient. The people I work with are getting impatient and my ass is on the line as well. As you might already know, my boss is about to go to trial because of what you did.”

“I don’t think I did anything wrong.”

“You think?” The Falcon asked incredulously. “Oh, of course not. You just stole every file that would land all of us in jail!”