The rhythmical tapping of pen making contact with desk was almost driving me insane. So was the palpable tension in the air and the silent stares being shot across the room.
"What can I help you with William?"
The man's quaint accent bounced off the walls, creating a small echo. It was stern, but somehow in a good way.
"I need some guy killed."
I presumed he'd laugh, but he just silently stared through my shirt and tie. I lifted my head to the ceiling, hands supporting my neck, counting the off-white tiles as those thoughts floating around in his cranium finally became spoken words.
"I'm very strict about who my men kill, William, as you should know."
I chew on my lip. "Yeah."
"Who are you planning to have exterminated this time?"
"Just another little mouse that needs exterminating."
"I'm not here to decipher your symbolism."
"Joseph Wilcox."
President of the Head Corporate Banking Office (HCBO). He'd been running the business straight to hell since last month. I'd given him many a chances, but he'd been too stupid to take my warnings wisely. I knew David, the lead hitman, had men that could so easily penetrate the security that Joe thought would let him do whatever the hell he pleased.
"That President guy?" David quirks an eyebrow.
"Yes, sir, that President guy."
He sighs, fixes some papers on his desk. Puts out his hand. I take it, but he holds on for a moment too long, making me a bit uncomfortable.
He looks me dead in the eyes.
"$1,000 and you've got a deal."