The Enigma's Anomaly

Expect the Inevitable

"No thanks I'm good," I say.

"It wasn't a suggestion," Banks replies. Somehow I knew he was going to say that.

"Yeah, but we're fine where we are sir, have a nice day," Gerard stutters.

Banks looks from me to Gerard maintaining a cool composer and I envy his skill to look so relaxed. I mean, he's probably here to put a bullet in both of our brains, but he just looks so chill about the whole thing. Even I don't have that much self-control, but then again I'm human, unlike this man.

He won't be the one to kill us though, that's not how men like him work. No reason for him to pull the trigger when there are other people to do it. Physical evidence is one of the biggest issues with the world nowadays, because it is so simply indisputable. There's not much you can do to deny it if your DNA is found on a dead guy, and Banks isn't stupid enough to take that chance. That's what middlemen like myself are for.

The thing about being placed at a crime scene is that you can't deny it. If the proof is there, then there's no lying your way out of it. Alibis can be bought and often are, but if your fingerprints or hair or anything else is there, then it's too bad for you.

I just think it's a little ironic that Banks probably has no idea who or what I am. This man hired me to kill Gerard, but I just ended up falling in love with him. Part of me almost wants to thank him for that, but mostly I just want to give him a black eye.

"And what will happen if we refuse to follow you?" I ask him. I know how to play this game. We've got no reason to go anywhere with him unless he's got a little incentive for us. It's not the good kind of incentive though, it's the life or death kind, which is always the bad type. Anything life or death really is pretty upsetting.

"I think you'll find that you want to do what I command," Banks says and then smoothly hands Gerard a small envelope, that can't have anything good inside of it.

Gerard's hands are shaking like a bitch. His fingers are practically vibrating as he breaks the seal on the envelope and peers inside. His face is already a mask of terror so I see no difference in it after he looks at the contents, but the fact that his face does stay the same is just as disconcerting.

"Come on Frank, let's go," Gerard says, and he grabs my hand for support. I dislike the way he looks so petrified right now.

"Sure, okay," I say and I hate that I'm playing all my cards. Banks has known me for about twenty five seconds and he's seen my entire hand already. My weak spot is Gerard and he knew that already, but I'm not doing myself any favors by proving it. I'll be damned if I leave Gerard alone with this guy though.

Gerard hands me the envelope as we follow behind Banks who walks elegantly out of the bar. I actually kind of admire the way his presence emanates grace and poise. He could be miss congeniality because he's just so mellifluous.

Gerard worked for this guy which is a little freaky. He's so nonchalant about the fact that he's leading a former employee and said former employee's boyfriend to their foreseeable demise, and I'm in no way serene about the situation, but I do wish I had such resolve.

He guides us out onto the street where a pristine black car is waiting by the curb, and I just know it's going to drive me to a horrible place, but it is at least a damn sexy car. You could feed an entire third world country with the amount Banks paid for that car and have enough left over for a trip to Barbados.

There's a driver who I can see from the window but I can't see him clearly enough to describe his features. I have to wonder if he knows that he's transporting us to our execution. I have no doubt about that though. This isn't just a little stroll for kicks, this is a funeral procession of which I've already had enough of for a lifetime. You should never even have a funeral procession for yourself and be alive to see it.