Read Vote and comment...Pleeeeeease :D
His left hand shook with effort as he aimed for the second shot. Cupping the butt of the gun with his other hand to steady it, he fired. His mind registered the stunned expression on the man’s face, but he couldn’t seem to hold himself up any longer. There was a dull echo of metal bouncing off the hardwood floor as his arms fell limply to the sides. Then his body followed. Before he succumbed to the darkness that shrouded him, a thought came to him with sudden clarity, that although he’d managed to rid the world of one more evil, the price to pay was too steep.
1
He checked the time again in a hurry to get back to work, back to the old warehouse he’d been helping the community convert into a boxing gym. It was a project he’d secretly funded to keep troubled youth of the streets, but more than that, it was a place that took him away from the isolation that his past had provided. Stepping onto the scruffy sidewalk with his too-late lunch, someone called his name.
“Declan O’ Brien?”
He turned, cast him an irritated glance, and then popped a heap of noodles into his mouth.
“We need to talk.” The man said, trying to keep pace beside him. “Alec Friedman. Remember me?”
I wish I didn’t…With a grimace, he jabbed his chopsticks into the box.
Friedman pulled at his collar uncomfortably and then pointed out another man up ahead. “That’s my partner Morgan. My new partner. Smith retired last year.”
As if I care. Declan took another bite.
“We can do this out in the open if you like, but it would best if you joined us in the car.” The older man went on bravely, carefully avoiding yet another jut of concrete on the sidewalk.
Declan came to a dead halt causing the man to go right past him before realizing his folly. He chewed deliberately and swallowed. He might as well have been eating grass for all he tasted.
A couple walking past them slowed down to stare at the strange sight.
His gaze followed theirs until it landed on a shiny new Mercedes with tinted windows. The midnight-green car stood out like a sore thumb, parked between a run down Ford jalopy and an over flowing dustbin. Throw in a guy with a suit and a bulge in his jacket in the seedy Romero District-Bad news.
Morgan shifted against the door watching the two of them, his lips twitched in amusement at the older man’s discomfort. Then his eyes met Declan’s. He tried to hold the stare, but he only lasted a moment before losing the unspoken challenge.
Over confident rookie. Declan smirked.
Morgan straightened slowly, but he couldn’t bring himself to look back at the man they had sought out.
The nosy couple hurried along.
No longer hungry, Dec tossed the box into the bin and wiped both hands on the back of his jeans. He pulled off his backpack and threw Friedman another dark look before getting in. He knew they would come eventually. He just didn’t expect it to be so soon.
They drove for a while in silence, before turning into the parking lot of a newly refurbished building. Friedman kept his face averted while he ran a hand over the briefcase on his lap. Dec had a feeling that the man was choosing his words carefully before he said them.
“O’Brien ...” He began hesitantly, shook his head, and tried again. “Declan, you must be wondering why we’re here after this long, right?”
Declan stared at him with a mask of indifference, but inside, he was seething. ‘Why use my first name? Unless…’
“Sphinx would have contacted you sooner or later ... we always knew where you were. The Heads have a message for you ...”
There it was, the ‘S’ word again. The audacity of the Heads!
Declan laughed out loud causing Friedman to flinch at the sound. O’Brien had always made him nervous. There was just something about him, something wild and dangerous. He suppressed a shiver.
“Tell the Heads that I’m out. That means no more messages from Sphinx and no more BS.” His tone was deceptively calm. He swung open the door and stepped out into the dim lot.
Friedman leaned across the seat and hollered, “It’s different this time. You need to know the truth! About your birthright ...”
Declan swiveled around. His pupils dilated with unchecked ferocity. “What game is Sphinx playing at now? I have no birthright. I’m an orphan, remember?”
“Get back in and let him explain,” Morgan growled through the open window, cleverly keeping his eyes on the dash.
Dec glared at him, clenched and unclenched his fingers over the strap of the backpack, wanting to seriously hurt the man.
Morgan stuffed a piece of gum into his mouth and chewed rapidly but didn’t look back.
Friedman opened up the briefcase and pulled out a manila envelope and a thick folder, holding it out to Declan.
Curiosity won out over anger, and he found himself reaching out.
He handed the sealed envelope to Dec and opened up the folder saying, “That ones yours ... if you care to know what Sphinx has to say. This one is the reason we’re here. It holds your future.”
He’d never known his family since his parents had never married. His father had walked away with the news of the pregnancy, leaving nothing for the woman he’d used or the son she bore him. He was six when she died. Twelve foster homes and two arrests later, he realized that if he had to survive the life he was given, he’d have to trust his instincts. It never failed him before, it couldn’t fail him now.
Friedman’s deep timbre sliced neatly through the memory. “The Heads think you should see this.”
Declan snatched the page from the folder and skimmed through it. There were numerous searches under his name. Most of them were dead ends until now.
Friedman pointed to the last entry. “Two guys are pretty keen on finding you. We were tracking them for a while.” He looked out of the window towards the elevators. “They were seen going in here yesterday. They’ve checked in, indefinitely.”
He frowned. “What does that have to do with my birthright?”
Friedman’s lips lifted but didn’t form a smile. “That’s what I’m getting to.” He gestured with his head.
“... 6th floor ... room 602. They’re there now.”
“And ...?”
“… and they’ll fill you in on everything. I’m really sorry, but from the ‘need to know basis’ that comes from Sphinx, that’s all you need to know.”
He cursed, knowing that he would get nothing else out of them. Morgan twisted in his seat, took out a pack of cigarettes and offered them around silently. Declan helped himself to one and stuck it between his lips but refused a light. He slipped the envelope into his backpack and strode towards the elevators without glancing back. He vaguely heard the engine start up as he punched in the floor number, looking up only to see the doors close in front of him.
What birthright?
Tugging the cigarette out from between his lips, he stuck it in his top pocket. Then, stopping outside 602, he swung the backpack onto his shoulder and knocked.
The door cracked a notch and then opened wide revealing a tall, thin figure with pair of tired brown eyes who regarded him cautiously. “Yes?”
Declan introduced himself and observed the man’s reaction.
Understanding dawned on his face, his teeth flashed with an unrestrained grin. “I can’t believe it! How did you know we were here? Come in. We have a lot to discuss.” He stepped back clearing the doorway as another gentleman came towards him. Declan listened in confusion as the two men gave him their details, but nothing could have prepared him for what they had to say.
His lawyers had handed him the deeds to a legacy ... his legacy, along with a leather-bound journal. Then they dropped the bomb ... He was now the sole heir to an empire built generations ago, in Ireland!
Sole heir? Not that he’d been poor of late. His past jobs had earned him more than enough to live comfortably for the rest of his life.
“Happy New Year, ‘O Brien.”
He couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. This was a kick to the gut he hadn’t anticipated, and surprisingly, it hurt.
O’ Brien ... at least his mother had had the sense to give him his father’s name. He belonged somewhere after all. He pulled out the cigarette and lit up, taking a deep, satisfying drag before tossing it, hoping that this was the very last that time he would feel the need to reach for it.