Blue Words

Prologue

"What did he do?" asked Alicia.

"Convicted of raping two sixteen year old girls in a park." She twisted her face in disgust.

"Perfect, bring him up." Mr. Drake turned to his assistant. "We'll take care of it from here, go call Douglas' facilitator and ask why he hasn't shown up tonight." He paused briefly. "Oh and take care of the cameras." Alicia sauntered out of the room.

The young assistant crossed the moonlit marble floor toward the elevator with the security officer and his silent footfalls close behind. They paused briefly before boarding an elevator car and descending to the office levels below.

Mr. Drake didn't like electric lights; he was old fashioned like that. He liked night to be night. He relied on the moonlight which drifted through the enormous glass skylight. Standing, he was an intimidating sight to behold. He was dominant and commanding, slick with charisma, but still his hands quivered. He climbed the stairs and stood on the rooftop terrace of his tower, the jewel of an empire he had worked a lifetime to build. An empire to make his father proud. He was a man of great knowledge, a man of great power and a man with a complicated history. Not a history you would read about in any book though.

He surveyed the heaving sea of lights before him, washing over an army of shadowed spires reaching for the stars, the skyline of the city. Far to the east, over the Pacific, the blue flicker and crackle of distant lighting flashed. "Deadly things always seem beautiful at a distance," he mumbled to himself.

The elevator chimed its returnto the penthouse. Mr. Drake let out a heavy breath, almost a sigh and descended the stairs again. The quivering had spread. Rebellion grew in his legs and on the bottom step they faltered. His shaky hand thrust out and desperately caught the railing, re-gathering himself; preserving his pride. Drake took a brief and dignified pause before continuing on. Douglas dry washed his hands beneath submissive eyes. He pretended not to notice the slip and followed Mr. Drake into an office.

"I really appreciate you giving me this chance Mr. Drake. Especially knowing what I done and all," Douglas grovelled, his hands still wringing and wrenching. Mr. Drake squinted slightly as his eyes adjusted to the room's artificial light; lit only for his guest's benefit.

"Well you've served your time, paid your earthly penance and such haven't you?" he asked in a soft yet commanding voice.

"Yes sir, I'll never even think about doing nothing like that again," Douglas said, nodding his head wildly.

"I'll be blunt, I need a favour of you Douglas," he said, carefully handing the jittery man a picture. He allowed no time to respond. "Look very carefully at this picture; lock the face into your mind. Do you know who he is?"

"Razeik Grovern," Douglas jittered, "I seen him on TV, he owns Grovern Industrial." The response received a nod of encouragement from Mr. Drake. Douglas' rat like features glowed at the praise.

"Close your eyes," ordered Mr. Drake. Douglas followed the directions. He was reluctant, but a man like him simply didn't question a man like Julian Drake.

Douglas twitched as a warm liquid touched his forehead. Only a trickle at first, but soon the flow was heavier. It was thicker than water. The stream split and flowed around his nose before curling and seeping into the corners of his mouth. Douglas clenched his lips tightly, but still he found himself tasting the warm flow. Salty, almost metallic, it tasted like blood. It smelt like blood. Maddened with curiosity, Douglas snapped his eyes open and wiped his fingers across his cheek. They were smeared with a vivid blue liquid. His chest pumped and heaved with anxious breaths. "Don't be afraid Douglas. Hold that face in your mind. You are about to find out what it's like to be one of the world's most powerful men."