The Angriest Angel

Chapter 27

"You'd better just leave the bottle," Lafaye said to the bartender as he poured a glass of bourbon.  His annoyance at Landcaster warranted at least a couple drinks, although in hindsight he wished they had chosen a better place to meet than a low end bar like this.

The bartender complied, though a bit surprised at the request, "Sure thing."

Lafaye took his glass and bottle and walked over to the corner table where Landcaster sat.  He was still a little bloodied, though not enough to get too much attention.  Of course, if attention ever became a problem they could psy any overly curious patrons.

He sat down opposite Landcaster, not bothering to offer him a drink.  Landcaster licked his lips and stroked his beard—with his good hand.

Lafaye took a sip of the bourbon, and said, "Ahhh, much better.  Now, you were about to explain what happened."

"They escaped, Regulus," Landcaster repeated, wincing in pain. 

Lafaye viewed Landcaster's struggle with interest.  He sat with his back perfectly straight, probably due to the pain.  Beads of sweat collected on his forehead in agonizing protest.  His right arm dangled uselessly at his side, the elbow was swollen and out of joint.  And from the looks of the bruising, the connecting soft tissue was likely torn as well.

"So," Lafaye said, taking another sip.  "You entered the structure with a weapon, facing a man with no weapon, and you still failed.  Do I have that correct, or am I desiderati sunt aliquid?"

"That is correct, Regulus."

"I see," he nodded.  "And this man—this indigena simpleton.  You were beaten by him.  Do I also have that correct?"

"Yes."

"Ah," Lafaye said.  "Can you please explain where the fault occurred?  Did I send the wrong person?  Was your training somehow defective?  Or was it a mental flaw as opposed to a physical one?  Were you outsmarted because of his genius, or are you just too dim-witted?"

Landcaster hesitated.

"I am only trying to understand, Landcaster."

"I was dim-witted," he finally answered after a wheezy breath.

"Yes, you were," Lafaye said, satisfied at his level of humility.  "But you were intelligent enough to come to me first before healing your arm.  It shows me that despite failing, your desires are well aligned.  And that level of loyalty must be rewarded with another chance."

"Thank you, Regulus.  I will not fail again."

"Good," he said.  "Now leave.  Get back to the Agency and have your arm healed.  Wait for further instructions on the next opportunity."

Landcaster painfully scooted his chair back and stood up.

"Oh, and Landcaster," Lafaye added.  "This isn't just your next chance; it's your last chance."

"I understand, Regulus.  Thank you."

As he left, Lafaye sipped his drink, considering his options.  Landcaster was capable, certainly, but this Chase Madison was proving to be quite an obstacle to his plans.

An indigena couple at a nearby table caught his eye, snapping him out of his thoughts.  The man scowled at him, as if he heard the tail end of his conversation with Landcaster.  Lafaye hadn't noticed them before, and wasn't sure how much they had heard.

Claudia, such disrespect. 

There was no response, though he didn't need one to know that she would disapprove.  He wished that she trusted him more.  After all, the man who killed her was probably someone just like this indigena animal.