Mask of Lies

Have a Seat

2017

A voice croaked in the midst of the night as the eerie winds howled incessantly, fluttering the weak leaves of the trees bordering the Columbus Park in New York City.

"Well done," the voice crackled through the cellular of a man dressed in a dark blue uniform, "Lock it securely. We'll collect it tomorrow."

The man instinctively touched his trousers' pocket where he could feel the object's cylindrical shape. As the call disconnected, he slid his cell in his jacket's pockets as well as his hands to keep them warm.

The night was chilling. Shadows formed by the dimly lit street lightings, oscillated alongside the wind, traced a frightening scenery. The man hurried his pace. He would reach his destination which he supposed was a ten more minutes' walk.

He abruptly jumped as he felt a vibration near his palm. He hastily removed his cellular and stared at its screen. It was an anonymous number.

He answered on the third ring, "Who's that?"

The voice which responded back was cold and emotionless, "Listen to me carefully. I don't have much time. The object is unsafe. They are following you. Get in the park at once."

The man was unnerved and uneasily enquired, "Who are you? Where are you?!" He revolved around himself to see if there was anyone nearby but the panorama was still the same.

"You know me. Hurry up! They are nearing. I'll be beside the tribute stone." The call was disconnected and the man was rooted in place wondering what to do. He was surprised to catch himself shivering.

His instinct told him to run away to his planned itinerary but he knew he had no other choice than follow the new instructions he just got.

Eight minutes later

Two men held him at each side, and another one began to beat him violently with a heavy stick. He spit blood which was gushing incessantly from his mouth and nose like a stream.

He tried to fight back but was unable to maintain his body which seemed to pull him down to the earth. He would battle till his last breath to recuperate the cylindrical object they just snatched from him.

The muscular men finally released him. He fell instantly on his knees, incapable of resisting the torture he had undergone minutes after he had entered the park and made his way to the tribute stone dedicated to the Italian explorer, Christopher Columbus.

His vision was blurred and his body ached in pain.

The man with the blood stained stick approached him, his eyes reflecting nothing but coldness. He held the man who was looking battered by his head and menaced, "Who is he?"

The agent gazed at him with pure disgust and responded, "I will never tell you." And he felt another excruciating blow on his head.

The thug removed his pointy knife and before the half dead agent could react in any way, he stabbed him in his stomach.

The sharp silvery blade slashed through his chest and came out, piercing his back and already torn shirt. The agent's eyes widened and his cry echoed amidst the trees that surrounded them.

The man released him and his four other companions raced across the park, towards their car.

The agent felt all his strength abandoning him. He dropped heavily on the dusty ground. He breathed slowly, the dust particle raised from the ground and landed on him.

He caught sight of something glittering in the moonlight. He extended his arm and managed to grab the object. He painfully slid it closer and pressed a speed dial. He prayed to God that his call would be answered and it did after the first ring itself. "Where are you?!" He heard an apprehensive voice.