Gunning For Gibson

Chapter 1

     His name was Daniel Gibson.

     He was the kind of man who wasn't afraid of anything, until the day he was given something unexpected from his brother: responsibility.

     Daniel never had to deal with real responsibility before, it was often something he could and easily delegate to someone else. If he had to get flowers, there was a secretary to order or pick them up. Probies to pick up the dry cleaning and even whole units to clean up a mess if he ever made one while on the job. All of these people were made at his disposal so that his mind and his talents would not be wasted doing something trivial and pretty much beneath him. Daniel Gibson was an asset that the agency he worked with appreciated to the point where they paid him a lot of money for. He was also so irreplaceable that his boyish antics were tolerated without question where anywhere it would have gotten you fired and possibly charged with sexual harassment. On the plus side, Gibson was the one man that never said no to a single assignment and considering the crap they've put him through, Daniel was honestly surprised he was still around to face his greatest challenge when it came knocking on his door one quiet Saturday evening.

     It was a seven in the evening, and surprisingly enough, Daniel had neither an assignment nor a date that night. It was not like him but he wasn't the kind of man to take a gift horse in the mouth. Daniel had turned on a baseball game, cracked open a beer and a bag of chips and stayed home that night. The evening was going well, as was the ball game for the home team when the door bell rang. Daniel wasn't expecting anyone and he was only dressed in a pair of grey jogging pants and a white wife beater, so he honestly considered not answering the door. It rang two more times before he hopped off the couch and strolled over to see who it was. While on his way to the door, he walked over to the mud closet, punched in a quick password and quickly drew out a glock 9mm from a small safe. Daniel quickly cocked it to make sure it was loaded and then hid the pistol behind his back before cracking the door open.

     Standing at the door, dressed in a trench coat that looked like it had a three piece suit underneath was a man he had never seen before. He was in his early sixties and when the door opened a crack, he tipped his hat and smiled.

     "Mr. Daniel Gibson?"

     "Who wants to know?" Daniel asked, still firming gripping the glock behind his back.

     "My name is Alfred Jackson," The man answered, "I'm an attorney."

     "I don't like lawyers." Daniel called back out. It was true, he usually despised the men and the red tape they create that mucks everything up.

     "Most people don't, but I'm not here to serve you." The old man replied, "I require just a few moments of your time."

     "What is this concerning?" Daniel asked as he was eager to tell the man to piss off so he could get back to his game.

     "It's about your brother." The old man replied.

     Daniel paused for a moment, "Which one?"

     The old man smiled. "The only one you had left."

     "Had?" Daniel repeated. "Is he all right?"

     "I'm afraid not," Alfred answered, "He's dead."

     "Then what are you doing here?" Daniel asked, the sting of the news of his bother's demise just starting to sink in.

     "I am your brother's lawyer," Alfred answered, "I am here because you failed to respond to the summons I sent last week."

     "Oh," Daniel said as paused for a moment, "Give me a moment."