Hopelessly Devoted

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No Perspective

The man walked through the doors of the warehouse for his meeting with Jason in record time.

Jason's a dick, but he gave the man a shit ton of money.

That, and a bit of revenge.

Jason had said he wanted to talk to the man for a while now, a mission that might lead to a promotion if everything goes well. The man wouldn't have to sell drugs anymore to make his worth.

Or a lot of his worth anyway.

It had been obvious to him that Jason wanted something very personal to him, to use it of some kind. He didn't know what exactly. The man never cared about anything but himself and himself only.

He seemed to find it easier to live life that way. Not caring.

Jason was a bastard with a flawless reputation. Men killed the day after he had promised it. Nobody made it out alive.

The man was an assassin, a trained technological professionalist, a bounty hunter, and a drug seller. He was exactly what Jason needed. A young man who had acquired so many skill sets over such a quick period of time.

As he walks through the doors of the warehouse, he enters codes in doors he needs, and makes his way to the back of the building where Jason's office was.

Security guards watched him with a cautious eye, knowing his reputation as well. They didn't dare try him, or they would be on the floor, dead in an instant.

He was who he was. And he knew how to win.

Powerful strides are made with his legs as he takes each step, his boots pounding against the floor. The aura about the man was unmatchable, he radiated the need to fear him.

The warehouse always smelled like drugs, even within the working cubicles and offices of the large building in the middle of nowhere. It's a bitch to find, really. The man had achieved multiple things today, he had killed a man he had been hunting for a week, he bought some groceries and donated to a charity under a false name.

What? He liked to give back.

Stale air mixed with drugs and paint fumes was never a pleasant smell for someone who doesn't like drugs. Even for a drug dealer, it doesn't mean he had to like them.

He kept his pace towards Jason's office door which could be seen at the end of the hall. His combat boots made a pounding sound against the floor every time his feet took a step.

Pushing open the door to Jason's office was something he had only done a few times before, cautiously stepping through the threshold. He spots Jason with his back to the door and his phone to his ear, talking sternly and with purpose.

"Bombing might be necessary. Do it if you must."

Bombing? What was being bombed?

Jason must have heard the man enter, because right after he ends the call, he spins around in his black chair with a look of excitement and amusement laced within his features.

His fingers pressed together as his elbows rested on the arms of his chain. The leather sinking under his wrinkled skin.

"Ah, yes. I've been expecting you." Jason muses with a smirk almost identical to his bastard son.

Yes, the man know's of Harry. He hates him with a burning passion. All that he has been dragged into by him, the computer and technological needs.