Paying the Piper
“Hit.” Anna exclaimed to the dealer. The dealer threw a card out and she flipped it over. On one hand she had a Four and a Nine, and the other, a Six!
The crowd gasped in anticipation as they turned to the player opposite her. A fine young man in his early thirties by the looks of it, wearing a fashionable tux. He sipped his vodka martini, shaken not stirred, just like how another agent would like it, and he wiped the cocktail off his lips. He glanced at his cards discreetly, and tapped his fingers, deep in his thought, six times, before speaking.
“Hit.”
The dealer nodded and slid him a card. The man caught the card, peeked at it, and smiled. He flipped the card over, revealing a Queen. The crowd gasped as he revealed his cards:
An Ace and a King.
The crowd started going crazy. Murmurs filled the casino. Madness! He had won and yet, he took an unnecessary risk, and still won! Luck? Strategy? Magic?
Anna smiled, admiring his courage as the banker paid him and her. She waved at the banker, signaling that her time and luck had indeed run out before getting up and making her way out of the casino. The man looked at her, took a chip, handed it to the banker before catching up to the lady.
“I admire your luck.”
“I admire your courage, Miss…?”
“Torres. Anna Torres.”
“Good to meet you, Anna”
The two of them shook hands. As they did, he noted the ring on her left ring finger.
“Torres for your husband?”
“You’re quick.”
“My eyes’ work. Although I don’t think they spotted him here tonight.”
“My husband is… He won’t be here till a few hours. He has something important.”
“In that case, allow me to buy you a drink, Mrs. Torres. Champagne and caviar.”
“That would be nice.” She chuckled. “Unfortunately, my husband is someone I wouldn’t gamble on.”
“I see. Is that why you took his name?”
“I did because… Because I had no choice. I was told to take his name, or not at all.”
“It’s bullshit.”
“Why so?”
“Women in this day and age, Mrs. Torres, should be free not to be tied to just one man, but to be themselves. Be who they want to be. Be called what they want to be called. Be with who they want to, without it having to be cheating.”
“You like to live dangerously don’t you?”
“No better way to live, Mrs. Torres.”
Anna Torres eyes him, sizing him up, before biting her lip, considering it.
“Is your place nearby?”
“Really close.” The man replied, pointing at the elevator in the lobby of the hotel. Anna bit her lip and licked her mouth, enjoying this.
You know what… Why not?
“Lead the way…” She whispered, holding out her hand. The man smiled and gently took her hand and led her to the elevator.
“By the way… What is your name?” She asked as the elevator door closed.
Sometime past three in the morning, the hotel door opened. Doctor Torres crept into his room and gently shut the door behind him. He silently slipped his shoes off and tiptoed to the bedroom where a woman laid.
“Anna… Anna!” He whispered, tugging her legs to wake her up. “Wake up, damn it!” He exclaimed, He pulled the blanket away from her and turned on the lights, and he screamed for a second as he jumped away from the beaten and deformed corpse of his wife that was laying on the bed.
“HOLY SHIT-”
“I apologize, Doctor Torres. No husband should ever see his wife like this. Even a traitor.”
Torres turned around and a small lamp turned on, revealing Jackson Brandle seated on a small chair at the corner of the hotel room.
“Jackson Brandle, agent of T.H.E.P.A.”
Torres got up, but Jackson took out a gun and aimed it at him.
“Unless you want your dead body to be cut open in a few hours, I’d suggest you sit down. On the bed. Come on.” Jackson pointed to the corner of the bed. Torres nodded and slowly sat by the foot of his dead wife.
The both of them sat in silence for a few seconds, none of them saying a word. Jackson kept his cool, picking his next words wisely.
“You know who I am?”
Torres nodded no, leading Jackson to chuckle.
“Of course you don’t. But… I know you know my brother… Harlan.”
“What are you doing here, Agent Brandle?”
“Don’t call me agent. You lost that right.”
“WHEN?”
“When you started selling secrets to SERPENT. You know, Director Forster doesn’t mind us making extra money on the side. In fact, he encourages it. Helps us maintain our cover. He just hated that it was through selling T.H.E.P.A. secrets.”
“How did you find me?”
“Every action leaves breadcrumbs. Those breadcrumbs lead me to your wife, Anna. Gotta admit, you got good taste, Doctor. She’s smarter than she looks. And more capable.”
Jackson chuckled. He wiped his lower lip with his hand, flesh wounds, bruises and fresh blood on his knuckles, displayed for Torres to see. Filled with rage, Torres reached from under the bed, to grab a pistol that he hid there. He smiled smugly before the smile faded as he pulled the trigger to an empty gun. Jackson chuckled, holding up bullets in his hand and dropping them to his feet.
“You think we’re that stupid not to look for weapons?”
Torres sighed. “So what will you do now? You got me. You got my wife. You got- What now?”
Jackson loaded the barrel of his gun.
“Doctor Torres, for your sake, I’m gonna give you a chance to appeal to me. Appeal to me why I should let you walk out that door and live.”
“Because… Because…” Torres choked out. “You know why.”
“That’s not good enough.”
Torres sighed.
“Your brother… Harlan… Ask yourself, Jackson… What would he do now? Do you think he would kill me? Answer me, why did you kill Anna? My wife? Was it in self defense?”
“What do you think?” Jackson asked as he scratched a part of his face with some fresh cuts and bruises.
“I think it’s more than that. It wasn’t just that, Agent Brandle. It’s something more. Something inside you that’s eating you up, and you don’t even know it until it’s too la-”
BANG!
THUMP!
Torres’ body dropped to the bed. He gasped trying to keep breathing, but he knew he couldn’t. Jackson unscrewed the silencer on the pistol as he approached Torres, ready to say his final words. But…
Torres weakly raised his hands, touching Anna’s face.
“Anna…” He whispered before exhaling one last heavy time.
Jackson stood there for minutes, taking in what he just saw. This… This was something different…
He was a spy- No, an assassin. This was his job. It was his job to be normal to the idea, thought and act of taking lives. He knew it. He knew it as well as he knew that the first kill usually is the hardest…
But this time… It wasn’t…
But why…
The sight was so unexpected, all of his senses shut off for a second. Once they slowly came back, he found himself moving on autopilot, to the bathroom. He pulled away the shower curtain, checking on a female child, around three to five years old. Her hands tied up, mouth gagged, and eyes covered, and yet the tears made its way through, and so did her muffled cries for help. Jackson’s face didn’t change one bit. Instead, with a calm, soothing and… Cold… voice whispered,
“Shhh… It’s alright… It’ll all be over soon… I promise…”
He tightened the grip on his gun and he went down to the child, silencing her.
