by Jack Hammond
“Is that so, nothing, really?” his tone was not judging, but sounded authoritarian.
“No, went sweet as a nut.” He said simply. “I’m Martin, by the way.”
“Edward,” he stated coldly before adding, “Would you care to explain?”
“Explain?” Martin said. “Explain, what? I had an extraction, I extracted. I had to set up the guy. So I set him up.” With a shrug he added, “What needs explaining?”
Edward looked up from his paper, his gaze was cold. “You hospitalised someone and assaulted the target.”
“Hey, I had to, to...” Martin screwed up his face as he searched for the word.
“Improvise?” Edward interposed.
“Improvise, yes! I had to improvise.” He continued, “I faced a difficult situation, I was required to ‘improvise’ and I completed my assignment.”
Edward’s stare was unwavering. "You were not supposed to run down the child’s brother, nor were you supposed to..." he stopped talking as the young Ukrainian waitress brought over Martin’s food. The moment the she moved away, Edward asked with a slight hint of surprise in his voice. "You ordered food?"
“Yeah, I’m starving.”
Edward sat back in the big comfy chair and shook his head. He looked at the man as he bit into his breakfast roll, “You know, some of us were born for this work.” He began.
Martin looked up from his plate, assuming Edward was talking about himself.
“Some were made, through training or experience, but some,” he paused looking at Martin harder, trying to see through him. “Some just enjoy it too much.”
Martin smiled as if he’d just been complemented. “If you do what you enjoy, you’ll never work a day.” His food rolled around the inside of his mouth like washing in a dryer as he spoke.
“The Associates were not impressed.” Edward remarked, his eyes falling once again onto his newspaper.
“Okay.” Martin stopped chewing. “So what happens now?”
Edward remained silent.
“Well, do I get a warning or something?” he enquired swallowing his food with a gulp. “You’re the man here, right?” he continued, “You’re the link to them, so what now?”
“Nothing,” he said simply.
“Nothing, so what’s the problem?” he had confusion etched across his face.
“The problem is if your actions set in motion a line of events that have not already been foreseen.” Edward explained, “Then measures will have to be implemented that could expend resources needed elsewhere.” Edward didn’t look up from his article, but he could feel Martin’s glazed over expression. “You have a new assignment,” Edward said. He understood why the Associates used people like him; sadly they didn’t give a thought to the ones who had to deal with them.
“Is it a good one?” he asked eagerly.
Edward couldn’t believe the dullard was completely oblivious to what he had just explained. As if he’d been talking in another language, because he couldn’t grasp it, he just ignored it. “It’s one you will follow to the letter. You will not deviate from it, you will not elaborate or improvise, you will just do as you are instructed.”
“Sure, I’ll do as it says.” Martin said competently.
Edward was not filled with confidence, but the assignment itself was not difficult. It was however very important.
“Is it true?” said in hushed tones.
Edward was intrigued, enough to raise his eyes from the page. “Is what true?” he replied in a low voice.
“That Max is dead.”
Edward looked with a cool glance. “Why do you say that?”
“Just something I heard, the police haven’t found him and from what people are saying,” he paused. “The Associates can’t locate him, so he must be dead, right?”
“Must be,” Edward replied. He missed Maximus, he thought looking at his replacement. Even though Maximus was just a pawn in a chess game that was beyond all of them to comprehend, he would still have run rings around the clown sat opposite him. “Can I ask, who are these ‘people’ you heard such stories from?”
“You know Edward, no one and everyone.” He took another bite from his half eaten roll, his reply cryptic and frustrating. “The grapevine,” he added seeing Edward was not happy with the answer.
He produced an envelope from his inside pocket, which he passed to Martin.
He wiped his hand on his jeans before taking it, and quickly swallowing down the last of his roll, “Do I read it now?” he asked.
“I would, yes.” Edward replied looking at his watch. “The person of interest in the assignment is due in the city centre, very soon.”
“Oh, right. Okay.” Martin said opening the letter.
“And Martin,” Edward stood up. “I wouldn’t pay much attention to the grapevine.” He said placing his hat on his head. “It has a tendency to wrap and snare itself around the most obtuse of people.” He warned.
Martin looked at him with confusion, “Right.”
Edward smiled as he folded up his paper. The glazed expression he had imagined earlier was accurate, “Good day.”
“Bye.” Martin replied as he began to read his new assignment.
The sound of the bells rang in Edward’s ears long before he reached the centre of town. Swiftly moving between the trams he passed the council house. The building was the pinnacle of the Nottingham skyline and had been since its completion in 1929. With a huge clock dome at the peak of its two hundred feet, it loomed over the market square. The keystone entrance had been salvaged from a church after the great fire and the listed building, like many in Nottingham, was filled with history.
Edward had grown attached to the city. Having lived here most of his life and watching it change on an almost daily basis, not only in appearance, but socially. The town had lost much of its wonderment, discarded for more modern popular styling. He made his way up Queens Street to High Pavement, which ran the length of the town centre. Filled with traffic that dragged itself slowly along the one way system, Edward could remember when it was a quick bus journey from one side of town to the other, years later it had increased to over thirty minutes.
Unable to shake off the stupidity of his new assistant, Edward tussled with his options. Should he inform the Associates, the person who had replaced Maximus was nothing more than a thug? Surely they would already know, maybe that was why they had replaced him. Perhaps they needed a blunt instrument? Edward had worked his way through the ranks, but he still saw himself as a peg for a hole.
Maximus, he thought. What had happened to him? It was true he'd vanished from the Associates sights he had heard that for himself even though he wasn’t supposed to. Edward felt a pang of guilt inside, although they saw everything, or at least appeared to. He’d had no choice but to inform the higher powers of Maximus’ behaviour, Edward did not expect what followed; it was beyond any assignment he had ever taken part in. As he walked into Victoria bus station Edward hoped wherever Maximus was, he was okay. He never wished the young man harm, but that wasn’t always enough.
The letter was typed in italics, printed on a plain white sheet of paper and the instructions were basic, a time, a place and a brief description of the individual. Martin banged his coffee cup down on the saucer in disgust. A few people cast an interested glance in his direction. Observe, he thought angrily to himself. Observe the person of interest, only. This assignment was beneath him, he had just performed an extraction and now he was a watcher. Was this a punishment? It didn’t matter, it was rubbish, but he had no choice. Edward wasn’t here to shout at now and it wasn’t like he had a telephone number he could call, or even a company he could visit.
The place where he needed to be was the Ye Olde Salutation Inn, not that he expected the person he was to observe would be drinking there, more likely just passing by. Martin had often wondered how the Associates got such accurate information about events yet to occur, but like most things in his line of work, answers were not forth coming
. Quickly checking the time, he made his exit and headed down the road adjacent to the bookstore.
His pace quickened, not because he was running late but because of his mission. Passing St Peter’s Church, he glanced to his left to see a man busking. He played a saxophone; the tune was familiar even though the title escaped him. Martin cut between a group of Japanese tourists photographing the church and headed up Hounds Gate. A building to his right caught his attention, he had passed it a million times, but today he stopped and stared. Just like the tourists he’d just pushed through, he gawped at the red and blue bricks that formed the modern church, which stood behind a deep blue railing fence. He imagined his employers were located in such a place, not so much a Church, but somewhere just as palatial.
Further up the road, he passed a group of youngsters queuing up outside a works agency building. A man with bright red spiky punk hair stood out like a sore thumb. Martin grinned, his mind taking a short break from cursing his assignment. He scrutinized him closely; Martin could see he was remonstrating with a young girl over his lack of pay. Agencies paid as little as possible and this worker had obviously grown tired of making them more money than he earned. Martin had no sympathy for him, if he got a haircut and tried to be less of an ‘individual’, perhaps he could get a job where he wasn’t exploited.
The Salutation Inn was now within Martin’s sights, the white building stood defiantly on the corner. With rich dark wood around the windows, roof and chimney, the Inn had stood on that spot since 1240, boasting the title of oldest building in Nottingham. Martin had never once crossed the threshold to enjoy a drink, perhaps today was the day he would or maybe not.
He hadn’t even had time to light up a cigarette before the bus pulled up and Martin’s assignment hit a snag instantly. The description he had been given fitted both of the young boys that had gotten off the bus. The two lads were blonde, wore jeans and similar blue jackets. Luckily for Martin, they appeared to be together so he wouldn’t have to choose which one to follow. He kept his distance as they moved up Maid Marion Way, towards the traffic lights.
The pair looked to be in their mid-teens and Martin couldn’t help but wonder what interest the Associates had with either one of them. It could be many things, perhaps one of them was dating a boss’s daughter, and they wanted him disposed of. Martin laughed quietly to himself as he slowed his pace. He would have enjoyed that job, but wasn’t that lucky, not today anyway. He crossed Maid Marion Way and continued to keep a close eye on them as they walked leisurely up Friar Lane. Martin pressed the traffic light button repeatedly as if he expected it to change faster. With a brisk jog, he had made up the ground on them as they stopped outside Nottingham Castle. Martin stopped and turned to face the shop window next to him.
The window opened out into an art gallery, the walls were covered with exciting, vibrant works of art. Sadly he had no interest in such things, they were wasted on him. He looked at the boys out the corner of his eye, they exchanging heated words, then to his relief they began to laugh. He was genuinely worried he’d have to choose one of them to follow.
The next few hours had been long and arduous on Martin. He had followed the pair around Nottingham Castle, through the exhibits, through the gardens and into a cafeteria. Now sat by the window the two boys were no longer talking, Martin had even noted one of them was uncomfortable, possibly due to the previous two hours of walking, but he wondered if it was something else. If he had to choose one of them now, it would most definitely be him. The world, in which Martin worked, had a knack of making you uncomfortable.
As he sipped his coffee, Martin gave the two boys names, the one on the left was, ‘annoying kid one’ and the other ‘annoying kid two’. When annoying kid one talked, annoying kid two remained silent. Martin wondered what his employer wanted with an annoying kid. He turned away for a moment and looked across the room. At the counter was a skinhead, wearing a black tracksuit with red stripes down the arms and sides of his legs. Martin got a vibe off him, he didn’t know what it was, but he didn’t like it.
With his attention now focused on the stranger, Martin felt edgy, the man appeared to be looking at the same two lads he was. Cleverly using the reflection in the stainless steel counter, nevertheless, he was watching them. Martin wondered if he was another agent of the Associates, watching the other boy. Martin hadn’t realised, his gaze had become a stare and had attracted the man’s attention.
The man smiled a knowing smile as he left his seat, he made Martin nervous as he walked past him.
“Hello, Martin.” The man said as he walked into the rest room.
“Max!” he said, under his breath as he recognised his voice.
Quickly leaving his chair he followed him into the bathroom. “Hey, Max. I thought you were dead,” Martin said confident they were alone. He lost sight of him as he moved inside. The turquoise tiles and toilet cubicle doors reflected in the big mirrors above the brilliant white sinks.
“Martin…” Max replied, his voice low and stifled.
“Where are you?” he asked moving around the side of the cubicles. “Hey!” he snapped the irritation evident.
He pushed open the first restroom door and nervously peered in, empty. The next, he used the tips of his fingers to push it open, empty. With only one left now, he growled. “Hey, stop messing me around, you’ve got nowhere to go now, pal.”
Angrily Martin kicked the final door as it banged against the wall he saw a flash of red. Almost instantly he felt his legs buckle as he fell to the floor. He could hear laughter as he writhed around holding his face. Martin could feel the blood pumping furiously from his nose, seeping between his fingers.
Max crouched beside him, still clutching the fire extinguisher he had taken off the wall an hour before Martin had arrived.
“Well, well, well.” Max said mockingly. “Guess the Associates didn’t foresee this did they?”
“Screw you!” Martin replied, his voice muffled by his hands, but Max heard him clearly enough.
“Tell Edward, the boy is off limits.” Max told him, his mocking tone now serious. “If I see you following him again, I’ll kill you.” Max stood up, “Or anyone else that you send after him.” Max raised the extinguisher and then slammed it down again on Martin’s head.
As he left the public toilets, Max looked over at the window. The two boys had gone. He wasn’t worried, he had been told where they would be in a few hours. Max casually walked over to his coffee and took a sip before leaving. The cold wind was stronger up here, Max wasn’t sure if it was colder or just fierce, because of the altitude. He made his way along the path, walking between the trees and bushes, before reaching the cobbled stones in front of the Castle.
The voice that had spoken to him in the dark expanse was powerful, it had outwitted the Associates and that was no easy feat. Max couldn’t help feeling pleased, having already dealt a blow to the people that had cast him out. He pulled on a black beanie hat, Max still had to get used to having no hair. The November air had soaked into his scalp, a sensation he had yet to become accustomed to. But changing his appearance in the current situation was not only required, it was imperative. If Max was going to complete the expanses wishes, he needed to stay one step ahead of the authorities.
The mobile rang incessantly in his coat pocket, Edward eventually stopped in the street. He removed a glove and fumbled precariously around in his pocket and then answered the small silver and blue mobile. He was greeted with a single phrase, “They want to meet.” The voice was gone as abruptly as it had arrived. Edward looked up the road as he put away his phone, he had almost made it home, he thought as he slipped his hand back into the leather glove.
Edward had to forgo with the public transport he had used earlier, this time there was more urgency. So opting for a taxi, Edward flagged down a local cab and swiftly traveled back towards the centre of Nottingham. The driver was in his late fifties with greying hair. He wore a pressed black shirt, the ranks logo on the breast pocket. Th
e car was impeccably clean, it was evident to Edward that he took pride in his and the cars appearance.
The blue Ford Mondeo sailed through the traffic lights, the drivers experience unmistakable as he timed the bursts of speed to correspond with amber and green lights. Although he sometimes exceeded the speed limit, Edward could see the man’s face in the mirror. He was a picture of calm, completely in control of the situation. That left Edward to look out of the window and muse about this urgent meeting.
Edward tipped the driver an extra few pounds for his hasty arrival before getting out. The refurbished town house stood six floors high. The large red door opened as Edward approached, his presence obviously expected. He moved directly to the lift, not looking at the people that populated the foyer. He may have been curious, but he wasn’t willing to see something he shouldn't. The best option when attending a meeting of this nature, was literally to keep your head down.
In the elevator the mirrored panels, highly polished brass edging and hand rail spoke of luxury. The plush red carpet under his feet was immaculate, very few people used this lift and Edward was not surprised. The doors parted, and he stepped out into the waiting area, there were no names, signs or logos on any of the walls. The previous two floors were solicitor’s offices, but Edward had no idea what the person who sat inside the big room, behind the oak door did.
A young blonde girl greeted Edward as he paused at the reception desk. Her hair was up in a bun, exposing the expensive jewelry which plunged down along with her neckline.
“Hello, Edward.” She said with a broad smile. “He is waiting for you,” she confirmed.
Edward graciously replied, “Thank you,” making his way through the oak door.
The man sat behind the huge Victorian desk, the large green leather chair hugging his ample size. He wore a dark grey suit, a black tie and a pair of thick rimmed spectacles. Edward was unaware if he was one of the Associates or another player like him, maybe higher up the pecking order.