Desire And Danger 18+

Twenty

Mary Anne couldn't stop taunting me with the past throughout the ride. But I bared it and we finally reach my hotel room. She slowly removes the jacket I lent her and makes herself too comfortable by kicking her heels. She then withdraws a cigarette case from her purse as she trudges toward the living area.

"So," she starts while taking a seat on the sofa, "what is it that you're busy trying to find this time, huh? I heard some stories about you—some too good to be true—like the fact that you were dating a mundane and Falcon messed with her. It made me laugh, honestly. It felt pathetic but I wonder if you've gone soft or what." Smiling, she outstretches her legs toward the coffee table and props one foot over the other. "So, who is she? Tell me about her and maybe I'll consider answering your questions."

I set the briefcase I've retrieved from the bedroom and lay it on the coffee table, then a gun from my jacket. Intrigued, Mary Anne glances at them in turn, a cigarette wedged between her lips and a lighter in her hand.

"Are we really doing this?" she asks in German, one eyebright lifted slyly.

"The choice is yours; consider me being generous," I deadpan. With my arms crossed on my chest, still standing while facing her firmly, I go on, "What happened in Denver twenty-three years ago? I know your sister, Vile, was sent to execute a mission but she suddenly disappeared. Then you, and my brother... were sent to retrieve an asset that belonged to the Pentagon. I wanna know what it was all about."

Mary Anne's round jaw ticks but she doesn't lose he'd composure entirely. Slowly, as though she's once again the captain of her own ship, she uses her gold lighter to light up her cigarette. When the tip glows ember, she takes a swig and expels the smoke in a gentle puff.

"You want some?" she asks bout the cigarette.

"No," I reply.

But I swear I'm fighting the urge right now.

"See? Softie," Mary Anne taunts with a grin but soon she gets serious. "We were trainees, Adrian. I was seventeen and your brother was sixteen. And as you said, Vile was supposed to lead the mission, but she... well, died." Rolling her eyes, she shrugs, as though the thought makes her want to even scoff. After a second inhalation of her cigarette, she adds, "The Pentagon doesn't offer full disclosure to the trainees; we were just a means to an end. If you want the answers, you know who can give you that since our mentor, Luciano, unfortunately, died tragically by your hands."

I grit my teeth. I hated Luciano. He was pure blood lust—Falcon's predecessor. In fairness, I killed him cold-blooded because he was a mole. It was an excuse, of course. He beat the kids to a pulp, calling it discipline, and so Mary Anne and I wanted to put an end to him by any means.

I was fifteen by then.

While taking a seat across from Marie Anne, I say, "How was Rogelio connected to the Pentagon? What was his relationship with Keiser?"

Keiser is the Head of the Pentagon, the man whose real or full name is buried deep into the unknown. I've heard only his voice, but his power could move the mountains. No one speaks of him in the Pentagon, but everyone answers to him. He's more influential than twenty Roberto Castles combined.

He's the Pentagon.

What I don't understand is why was he looking for something left in my childhood house in Denver, Colorado. It's true that Rogelio, my stepfather, was a drug dealer and a spineless crook who could've crossed any kingpin's radar, but for the Pentagon to put a whole task force just to capture him?

Something doesn't add up.

"Your stepfather had something that belonged to Keiser. I Don know what it was; I didn't get to see it. And honestly, I do not give a shit," Marie Anne says calmly.