A PUPPET ON A STRING

Chapter 9

Unsure what to make of the Celtic cousin. On tasting it, hesitated to think what Tomo had been serving until now.He could get use to this.Time to Chicago was four hours. But would cost him six hours on the clock.A two hour stopover before taking a one hour flight to Flint. Losing another hour crossing time zones. Leaving Seattle at one that afternoon he would eventually arrive in Flint by ten in the evening local time. His accountant mind grappled with the math.

Then surrendered the algebraic conundrum to the comfort overcoming him.Flying over Flint, and seeing the city lights below. A quiet part of the country that people avoided. Making out lights of vehicles and office buildings. Glowing brightly to one side, the city center a further nine miles to the east.

"Downtown, East-Third Street. Cope thorn Hotel." Frank calls out to the cabdriver.

"Yes Sir." Responds the driver knowing the Hotel.After taking several turns the cab pulls up outside a plain looking hotel building. The street looked deserted despite the parks parked along the sidewalks. Peeling himself from the cab. An overnight bag in hand.

"Keep the change." Saids Frank paying the driver.Looking up at the tall hotel he gauges the number of floors and but gives up counting. A gust of cold air pushed Frank towards the entrance as if to usher him inside.

"Can I help you Sir?" Asks the Manager seeing Frank approaching.

"I have a reservation." Presenting the doorman with the letter Smith had given him.

"Of course Mister Pecks, welcome... We've been expecting you... I am Mister Prentice, the Hotel's Manager... If you have any concerns about your stay... I will only be too happy to assist you."

"Thank you very much." Accepts Frank.Prentice taps a bell on the counter and a Bellboy appears.

"Take Mister Pecks his room please... Enjoy your stay Mister Pecks."Prentice beamed a smile and returned to his solitary position at the foyer entrance.

"Thank very much." Frank responded.

An elevator sounds and the doors open. Entering, the Bellboy presses ten, and the elevator rises. Before opening onto a large hallway. Frank follows the Bellboy obediently who opens a door before handing him the key. And finds himself in a luxurious room. No expense had been spared.

"Are you sure this is my room?" Frank asks curiously.Frank checked his key and the room number on the door. As if there had been no mistake.

"Yes Mister Pecks." Responds the Bellboy standing quietly still.Frank then twigged that the Bellboy was waiting for a tip

."Sorry... There you go." Handing the boy a note from his pocket

."Thank you Mister Pecks... Enjoy your stay." Nods the Bellboy, leaving hi min the large room.Now thinking he should have brought Marilyn. Large windows give a view of the city. It was getting late. Frank's mobile vibrates with an incoming call.Who would be calling him?'Private number' Displays on the screen.

"Hello?" Frank answers.

"Frank." The voice inquires.

"Mister Smith." Frank identifies the voice.

"You've settled in then?"

"Just arrived. Will unpack shortly."

"Very good... I won't disturb you. Just wanted to check you arrived safely. I will be in contact again tomorrow morning with instructions."

"Thank you Sir. I will wait for your call."

"Good night Frank."

"Good night Sir." And the phones went dead.Frank spied the mini-bar and made himself a drink. Falling into a large soft arm chair. Relieved to have arrived. Anxious to know what Smith had in stall for him. Whatever it was, it could not be as dreadful as the ten hour haul across the country he had just undergone.

"Are you sure he will be up to it?" Asks Black softly sitting in a chair opposite Smith.A small single lamp illuminated the dim room. Black's visit was spontaneous. Appearing in-expectantly that evening. Black looks about Smith's adequate hotel suite, gauging its adequacy."We'll know tomorrow." Smith counters his argument.

"We have him by the short and curlies if he doesn't... A man will do anything for love."

"What do you know about love?" Asks Black striking a nerve with Smith.

The Agency was Smith's only love. He breathed it. He ate it. He drink it. He slept it. And he dreamed it. But he had never known love."Love is a powerful thing Smith... Women have turned the most stubborn of keys. What makes you think he's the one?""I just know." Said Smith relying on his gut instinct.He had been right with Thomas. After a little coaxing. But his predecessor Elliott on the other hand, needed no persuasion. Despite his Irish Catholic upbringing. Or perhaps because of it.

The left-footer took to killing like a duck took to water. As though he had been ordained by Smith to dispatch the souls of the wicked to God. Elliott mirrored Smith's protestation of undesirables. He was the closest Smith ever had to being a son. It was a sad day for Smith when it came time for Elliott to retire. Making the kill himself. It was personal.Each recruit had jumped through the loops liked trained animals. And Frank would be no different.Black avoided probing further. His sentiments were the same a Smith's. Best to keep one's distance from women. Black rolled the glass of dark Pin ot Noir in his hand. Warming its contents and inhaling the subtle deep aromas of the bouquet.Smith could see Black scrutinizing him from the corner of his eye. Smoke drifted up from the cigarette in Black's thin fingers. A faint haze of smoke filled the room. As a former smoker, the passive smoke was like an old friend revisiting. Smith reminisced the past acquaintance and inhaled deeply. Closed his eyes and drifted to sleep. Leaving Black to watch on.