[曦澄 | XiCheng][MDZS Modern AU]: All The Things I Never Told You [~PART 2~]

〽️👁‍🗨 Chapter 206: Brent. [TW?]

Link:   https://www.facebook.com/photo?fbid=1314249839398687&set=a.1266001897556815

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Lenny P. Keaton was a name very few people knew. Most of the people who had known it were now dead. It was a name that mostly existed on blacked-out pages, heavily redacted papers, in secret folders, stacked and archived inside the basements of the building of the Pentagon.

The young man chose the name of his closest friend to call himself by. His closest friend from his childhood who was now buried deep into the ground, remembered probably just by his own family, and by him. Lenny never forgot that boy  –  the boy who died so that he could live.

He felt the obligation to carry this name into the future, to make sure that his name was never forgotten, not completely at least. He liked it too. It had become his life brand, his slogan. It had been passed on to him, and it was his name now.

It was  Brent  now. He wasn't a boy, not any more. He wasn't a man, perhaps, either. He was... something beyond. A bio-machine. A killing machine.

A killer.

After his return from that last mission, he just could not go back home. He was absolutely sure that his own mother would not recognize him. Not on the outside, but in his soul. He didn't quite know how to talk to people any more.

Now, he mostly talked to the dead. And sometimes Brent, the real Brent,  even spoke back to him.

It was all OK. He liked the quiet now. He liked the absence of flesh now.

Brent wanted, needed just one last job; that one last mission that would give him the chance to tie all loose ends and finally get away from the noise and the people. So, that one phone call he got was pure kismet.  A rich pretentious dude wanted a safeguard, protection, probably for a month or two, until some kind of imaginary threat, some made-up danger, was over.

Easy-peasy.

He planned to ask for all the money he needed to go away safely, and never return, ever. He planned to disappear.

So, one last round of noise and pretenses. One last dance with empty-headed fools who didn't know just how precious life was, just how priceless silence and solitude were.

Not that he considered himself wise  or anything. He was just tired. Tired of communication.

***

Inhaling deeply now, he entered the pretentious bar, and was immediately pleased by the fact that the light was subdued and the background music was really quiet and unobtrusive, albeit probably popular. Lately, he greatly appreciated the quieter places in this noisy city.

By instinct, he chose the table that had best overview to the front door, the back door, all the windows, the counter and the bartender himself.

Katherine hadn't said too much, and he liked it so. He preferred to make his own observations and draw his own conclusions, unbiased. She had only mentioned that it was about her boss, and that she loved   that same boss.

It didn't really matter. He didn't really know her now. He had known her as a teenage girl, before he and her brother got swallowed up into the black hole that was named War.  Before their innocence was lost.

The place looked calm. He noticed the bouncer at the door, which made him smirk (professionally) on the inside  –  the guy was heavy-set and really slow. But what could really go wrong in a place like this? A drunk yuppie calling for a taxi? Forgetting his wallet? Or barfing on the floor?