by Mike Ryan
“It’s not something that really interests me,” Jones stated.
“Really? Odd, don’t you think?”
Jones shrugged. “I’m not much for conspiracy theories or unlocking secrets. I believe it’s usually best to let things lie as they are. If things are meant to be uncovered they usually will be in due time.”
“You’re probably right. You’re an intellectual man, Mr. Jones. I like that,” Vincent grinned.
“Well, I teach so that kind of goes with the job.”
“Yes, I suppose so. Not only intellectual, but fascinating.”
“I don’t think I’ve said anything that fascinating,” Jones responded.
“No, it’s not in what you say but how you say it. How you act. How you reply.”
A more concerned look overtook Jones’ face as he peered up at his visitor. He worried that Vincent had somehow figured out who he actually was. Or he’d already talked to Mia and she gave him up. Not that he’d blame her if she did as she wasn’t the most experienced at this sort of thing. He wouldn’t expect her to hold up long against extensive interrogation techniques if she was exposed to them.
“And what makes you think that?” Jones wondered.
“Well, here you are sitting and talking to me calmly and rationally, seemingly knowing full well who I am. And yet you don’t look concerned in the slightest,” Vincent explained. “You’ve been beat up, knocked out, kidnapped, tied up to a chair for hours inside a vacant room and yet you don’t seem rattled or fidgety. Very strange, wouldn’t you agree?”
Jones simply looked down at the floor to the left of him and let a smirk emerge onto his face. He realized that Vincent was analyzing how he replied to questions more so than the words that Jones used. It was a smooth technique that Jones didn’t notice at first.
“I mean, I assume that as a professor you aren’t subjected to this type of behavior every week, are you?” Vincent asked.
“I would hope not.”
“But you’re as cool as can be like it’s just another day.”
“I guess I’m just a low key type of person where not much bothers me,” Jones said.
“Well if this doesn’t bother you, I don’t know what would.”
“Well, would yelling and shouting and trying to break free do me much good?”
“Not really.”
“I’m not really sure I understand what you’re trying to get at. Are you implying that you think I’m The Silencer?” Jones asked with a laugh.
Vincent chuckled at the suggestion. “Of course not.”
“I should hope not. I mean, if I was, I probably wouldn’t still be sitting here. James Bond I’m not.”
“Wouldn’t it be interesting if you were? No, I’m fully aware that you’re not The Silencer,” Vincent stated.
“May I ask you a couple of questions?” Jones wondered.
“Fire away, professor.”
“What is this interest in The Silencer that you have? Do you believe I’m friends with him somehow?”
Vincent got up and walked around the room for a few moments as he pondered the question, giving it ample thought. After a minute, he stopped in back of the metal folding chair where he’d been sitting, leaning on the back of it as he looked down at Jones to answer his questions.
“My fascination with him is I guess the same as almost anyone else’s. A vigilante type character who mysteriously shows up in our city…almost like out of a comic book or a movie. When not much is known about someone, you try to figure out their angle, who their associates are, what their play is, what type of connections they have,” Vincent explained.
“And you think I may have some of those answers?”
“I’m not sure. And as for friends, I’m not sure a man like The Silencer has friends. I believe he has acquaintances, business partners, perhaps a few people he’s friendly with, but men like him, rarely have true friends. They can’t afford it.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Men who can do the things he does come from a special background. Military, government, black ops, things of that nature. It’s rare for a civilian, even one trained in an organization such as mine to be able to move the way he does. He operates in the shadows, in the background, pops up out of nowhere before disappearing, helping people without wanting credit. That’s a rare person,” Vincent continued.
“I would have to take your word for it. I’ve never met someone of that background.”
“That’s why they don’t have friends. They pick up and move at the slightest hint of trouble or of being detected. Once they’re compromised they are no longer effective. It’s tough to pack up and move if you’re leaving behind people you care about.”
“It’s a fascinating discussion but not one in which I can be of much value in, considering I have no experience in it,” Jones replied.
The longer they talked, the more Vincent was convinced that Jones wasn’t merely just a professor as he proclaimed. Vincent thought there was something else there. Perhaps he was a professor. But for a man sitting there tied up, something in which Vincent had a lot of experience, Jones didn’t appear anxious, nervous, or fearful. Vincent had many men in that position, some of whom were dangerous in their own right, and all of them showed some type of reaction while in that chair. But not Jones. A professor who didn’t exhibit one negative reaction to being there sent red flags into the air in Vincent’s mind. Vincent put his hand up in the air, indicating he had more to bring to the discussion.
“I have one final thing on the subject,” Vincent told him.
“OK?”
“It’s my belief that a man like The Silencer can’t really operate on the kind of scale that he has been without some type of help or guidance.”
“Really? You mean he has a team?” Jones asked.
“In a way. Like Ms. Hendricks, a nurse who could help him in the event he’s ever shot. Perhaps he has a computer genius who works magic for him…”
“Or even an intelligent professor who can help solve problems for him,” Jones interrupted.
“Perhaps.”
“That is an interesting theory.”
“What do you think?” Vincent asked. “As a professor, do you think my theory holds any weight?”
Making a few faces as he feigned thinking about it, Jones concurred. “I believe it’s possible, yes.”
The conversation came to a halt and the two men just stared at each other for a minute, each apparently sizing the other one up. Jones was obviously a very intelligent man who wasn’t going to be rattled or slip up in his story. Vincent didn’t want to push too far as he knew that if the man before him was in The Silencer’s stable, that he’d tell Recker about the questions and suspicions he had. And while Vincent sought to extract more information about Recker and his operation, he didn’t want to push the boundaries just yet and risk making a new enemy. Especially when up to that point they’d had a good relationship.
“If you’re done with the assertions, can I ask what you’re planning on doing to us?” Jones wondered, breaking the silence after a couple of minutes.
“You will be released, Ms. Hendricks and yourself.”
“Thank you.”
“I would like to ask one thing of you, though,” Vincent said.
“Oh?”
“As a professor, a law abiding man as I’m sure you are, I’m asking that you don’t report any of what’s happened here today to the police. It’ll be dealt with.”
“Well, that goes against my principles,” Jones expressed, trying to keep up his appearances. “I mean, the man did commit several serious crimes. How do I know he won’t try again at some point? I don’t want to be walking to class every day in fear that he’s behind me, ready to strike or something.”
“I give you my word that he’ll never be an issue for you again. As I said, his crimes will be dealt with,” Vincent sternly replied. “Not by a court of public opinion, though, and not be the law. It’ll be dealt with by my law. And I
assure you that that is far more severe.”
Chapter 9
Once Vincent had finished up with his interview of Jones, he had untied him and assured him he’d be leaving soon, just as he had with Mia. He still left a guard there between the two rooms even though both doors were locked. Vincent then walked out into the main part of the vacant office, ready to conclude the business they had there. Malloy looked at his boss, ready to take action once he got the word.
“Jimmy, once we all go, I want you to stay back and let Ms. Hendricks and Professor Jones out,” Vincent ordered.
“You got it.”
“If they need a lift or a ride anywhere, take them wherever they’d like to go.”
“Right,” Malloy replied.
“Wait, what?” Simmons asked, his face a picture of wide-eyed, wide-mouthed astonishment. “You’re letting them go?!”
“That’s right, Joe,” Vincent confirmed.
“What am I missing here? They came looking for me.”
“No, I’m fairly certain that whatever happened here today has come to a satisfactory conclusion.”
“They’re not gonna stop,” Simmons objected. “They know The Silencer. I’m as good as dead if he comes after me. They’re leverage for me.”
“No, Joe, this ends today,” Vincent repeated, nodding at Malloy.
Malloy immediately lunged at Simmons and gave him a thunderous right hook across the side of his left cheek. Simmons was surprised and stunned by the blow and instantly fell to the ground. Knowing he was in a world of trouble, he started to get back to his feet. His progress was halted though as the two men that were guarding the door rushed over to him and grabbed each of his arms as they held him in check. As Simmons was dragged back up off the floor, Malloy proceeded to rain down some more punishment on him. Blow after blow, alternating between the stomach, kidneys, and his face, it wasn’t long before Simmons was in excruciating pain. As Malloy continued his assault, Vincent stepped forward, speaking to their victim as he was getting hammered with fists.
“You see, Joe, this was necessary because you put my organization in a bad light,” Vincent told him. “Your actions made this a necessity because you compromised my positions.”
“I’m sor…,” Simmons tried to reply.
He couldn’t get the rest of the words out, though, as Malloy popped him right across the jaw. With every punch, the pain that Simmons felt increased tenfold. Vincent let the action continue for a few more minutes until he felt satisfied in his own mind that Simmons had successfully gotten the message.
“You killed some female doctor that you had a crush on, or rejected you, doesn’t really matter which. I gave explicit directions months ago that nobody was to be killed by one of my men in this city unless it was under my direct orders,” Vincent explained to him. “Then her friends come looking for you and you kidnap them with the intention of killing them, bringing The Silencer into the equation. Did you really think I would be OK with that?”
Unable to answer with Malloy still using Simmons as a punching bag, Vincent took hold of his lieutenant’s right arm. He gave Malloy a few pats on the back to indicate he was appreciative of his efforts on a job well done. Vincent, along with his men, stood over their former colleague as he writhed around in pain, coughing and spitting up blood.
“I just…” Simmons huffed, trying to catch his breath.
It felt like one or two of his ribs were fractured and he had numerous cuts on his face. His lip was busted, one of his eyes was already starting to swell up, and his nose was broken. He barely had any breath left within him to talk.
“I just,” Simmons coughed. “Wasn’t think…thinking,” he struggled to say, spitting up more blood on the floor.
“Obviously,” Vincent responded.
Malloy stood there, ready to pounce on their victim again if he was given the instructions to do so. He looked at his boss to see if he wanted him to continue pounding away, but Vincent didn’t give him the green light. Instead, Vincent just stared down at the incredibly beaten man with a look of scorn and contempt. Eventually, Vincent looked over to his right hand man and could tell that he was still itching to dish out some more punishment.
“I think our friend here has had enough, Jimmy, don’t you think?” Vincent asked.
“Whatever you say, boss.”
“Take him to the car.”
Two of Vincent’s men scraped Simmons off the floor again, carrying him out the door and into the car that was waiting for them. Once they had gone, Vincent took Malloy’s arm and led him to the far wall to discuss things further without anyone overhearing.
“Take them wherever they want to go and stay on them,” Vincent told him. “Perhaps one of them goes somewhere that could give us some additional intel on where Recker sets up shop.”
“Why the extra interest in Recker’s activities and operations?”
“Keep your enemies close, Jimmy. Keep your friends closer. Right now he’s an ally. As we both know, allegiances have a tendency to shift from time to time depending on which way the wind blows. If that should ever happen, it’s best to be prepared for a worst case scenario. And he’s a man in which you need disaster plans to be made ahead of time, before the tornado strikes.”
“OK. What if these two split up somewhere?” Malloy asked.
Vincent looked over to the hallway that led to both rooms that their visitors were in and debated the question. “If that happens, follow the professor. I think he’s a little bit shiftier than she is. I think she was pretty much honest about her relationship with Recker. Him, on the other hand, he’s a different story. I think there’s much deception about him.”
“I’ll stay on him. What about Recker?”
“I’ll call our friend in a little while and inform him that the matter’s been settled. Not until you’ve done your part, though.”
Vincent then left, followed by the man that was guarding the doors, leaving just Malloy with their two guests. Malloy waited a minute until Vincent and the rest of his crew had driven off before he let Mia and Jones out of their rooms. He unlocked Mia’s door first and slowly pushed it open, seeing her pace up and down against the far wall. Once she saw the door open she stopped, wondering what was going to happen next.
“You’re now free to go,” Malloy told her.
“Oh. OK,” Mia replied, still a bit hesitant.
“If you wait in the main office there, I’ll let your friend out and then I’ll take you guys wherever you’d like to go.”
“Thank you,” she sheepishly smiled.
As Malloy turned his attention to the other door, Mia slipped out of the room and waited in the main office. Though she had thoughts of just running out the front door as quickly as possible, it was only a fleeting thought. Jones was still in there and she couldn’t just abandon him, especially after the licks he’d taken for her. As Malloy opened Jones’ door, the professor was still sitting in his chair, as calm as could be. He was leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped together.
“If you’re ready we can go now,” Malloy told him. “I’ll take you where you need to go.”
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Jones replied, standing up.
Malloy held the door open as Jones walked past him. Once Jones entered the main office, Mia rushed over to him and gave him a big hug, relieved to see that he was OK, though he still had a cut on his head from the thumping that Simmons gave him. Other than that, though, he was in good shape. Jones was standing only a few inches away from where Simmons laid on the floor after his beating was administered. He looked down at the floor and noticed a small pool of blood. Knowing something must have happened, a quizzical look showed on his face. Mia noticed his strange face and looked down at the floor as well, seeing the same thing he did.
“Did something happen here?” Jones asked.
“Nothing you need to be concerned with,” Malloy answered.
“It wasn’t here when we came in,” Mia chimed in
.
“Like I said, it’s nothing you need to be concerned with,” he said with a smile. “Just be thankful it isn’t yours.”
“Whose is it?” she asked.
“I think we should probably be going. I have a car out in front,” Malloy told them, ending the questions, holding his arm out to usher them along.
Mia gave Jones a look, like she was still worried about what was to come. She still didn’t feel like they were out of the woods yet. Not as long as there was a stranger, and an intimidating one at that, still hanging around. Though Vincent had kept his word up to that point, Mia still wasn’t trusting of any of them. They cautiously walked out the front door, Malloy following them closely. Once they got to the car, Malloy held the back door of the car open for them to get in.
“Where can I take you?” Malloy asked.
Mia and Jones looked at each other, not exactly sure what they should say. Neither wanted to go to their house and have the man know where they lived. Although in Mia’s case, it wouldn’t be hard to find out anyway. But for Jones, it was a much trickier situation. He would have to pick a completely unrelated spot or else risk giving up his role and relationship to Recker.
“Uhh…if you could just drop me off at the university, that would be fine,” Jones said, sticking to his cover that he just created.
Mia gave him a strange look, wondering what he was talking about. She obviously wasn’t aware of the conversation he had with Vincent and had no idea about the professor identity that he was now trying to forge. Jones returned her glance and gave a slight nod with his head, trying to indicate to her to just go with whatever he was saying. He also moved his hand along the seat, trying not to be noticed by their driver, and put it on Mia’s knee, tapping it a few times before putting all five of his fingers out. Although she wasn’t exactly sure what he was trying to tell her, she decided she’d just roll with it. Knowing how he worked with Recker, she was confident that he had something in mind. She didn’t need to know the details. She trusted him fully.
