The Decameron 2.0

Day 5.7 Revenge - DISCIPLINARY ACTION Shantelle18

He stood, staring out the front window of his home, watching the neighbours tending to their gardens, getting the mail, and all of those other completely insignificant things regular people did. Hank—no, Jeff—stood with his feet firmly planted on the thick cream carpet beneath him, broad shoulders straight, neck stiff from watching. Always watching.

Jeff Bowman had once been Hank Miller, an undercover agent for a company he couldn't even be caught thinking of anymore. It was too sensitive. Which was the precise reason he was forced to leave.

Becoming the persona he had assumed today had been hard work. Frustrating, agonising and despicable. But it had to be done.

It was protocol.

Having long lived a life of tracking undetected criminals and handling them somewhat accordingly—but mostly illegally—it was brutalising to have to turn his back completely on what had made his existence worthwhile. He had thoroughly enjoyed the work. It was more than a job to him. It was a calling. It was his life.

But that life had come to an end because of the danger that had become involved over time. He had made too many enemies to continue working safely, and when the time came, he'd taken a massive step back and changed his whole purpose. Turning a man of no excuses who refused to back down in any situation into a man of no practical use, or in other words, menial and lifeless. The kind of person he despised.

He longed for a return to that perfect life every single day, but knew he had no choice but to lay low and hope that soon he could return. They couldn't hold him back forever. He would get back to it one way or another. That was for sure.

Jeff wasn't a big guy. Sure, he was tall. Six feet four inches, but he wasn't bulky. Aside from his wide shoulders and toned figure, there's wasn't much more to his frame. His advantage lived in his movements: his speedy reflexes, his unrelenting grip and precise reactions.

Let's focus.

Turning from the window, he strode over to the black leather armchair by the window and sat down, preparing himself for the onslaught of memories.

Where it all began.

It had been a warm and sunny day when Jeff decided to take a walk with his dog. Soaking up the sunshine with his best friend, Cooper the Boston Terrier, out on the quiet streets of Ballan, Victoria in the spring time. The trees were swaying to and fro in the breeze, cooling them as they walked contentedly through the winding roads. Cooper was trotting up ahead of Jeff on his leash, tongue lolling happily out the side of his mouth and his nose raised into the air, taking in all of the fresh scents around them.

Jeff had originally gotten Cooper for a distraction. Never had he imagined a dog would become more than just a pet, but over the months spent together, Cooper had become Jeff's escape from his own troubles. The dog brought happiness into his days. He was family. Nothing made Jeff happier than when he came home to the overly excited pup at his front door, wagging his tail while eagerly awaiting his master's attention.

Smiling to himself at the simple memory, Jeff began rounding the bend onto the main street with Cooper when the obnoxious roar of a car filled his ears. Halting in his stride, Jeff turned his head towards the sound before catching sight of the enhanced vehicle, which was barrelling toward them at a ridiculous speed.

Jeff frowned. He hated speeders. In such a quiet place, it seemed like a vile disturbance to the peace that surrounded them.

Stepping back, he tugged gently on Cooper's lead, pulling him away from the curb and out of harm's way. The dark blue Mustang raced toward them at breakneck speed. Jeff stood still, watching it get closer and closer, with Cooper sitting patiently in front of him. When the car got within a few metres of them, it suddenly mounted the sidewalk and swept up the little dog in an instant. Jeff's heart leapt into his throat as the lead was ripped painfully from his hand, and then it too disappeared along with the car.