Secrets and Ashes

Prologue: Don't Get Your Tongue Pulled Out

-Jayce's POV-

I looked around the street checking if our client had been followed. There was no chance of that considering that our guards were placed as far as several blocks away, but no harm in making sure. I ushered him in with a nod and he stepped into the rotten looking building slowly, taking a quick glimpse at the silver gun tugged in my belt.

"Master Clinton is waiting for you," I said coldly, pointing at the stairway which leads several floors above.

He seemed to scrunch his face in disgust as he sniffed the air around him. Newcomers usually had this reaction. It was probably the smell of blood, piss, and gun powder. However, you had to get used to it sooner or later if you were in a business like that.

The client marched cautiously towards the stairs, looking back a few times to check if I was behind him or if I would randomly decide to shoot him in the back of his head.

Master Clinton's office was stationed at the uppermost floor, the sixth. Since we relocated to a new city, this was our temporary hideout, because headquarters was still being arranged. The Master chose a scrappy old building just to avert suspicions that might arouse.

There were no elevators and no chairs to rest on the way to the top and the client would, every few minutes, put down his black case and take a few shallow breaths, while wiping his wet forehead. I would just stand behind him, arms crossed, waiting for him to be done, and fighting the pressing urge to roll my eyes at him.

After about five minutes, we were standing right in front of the tattered brown door. I knocked four times, indicating that it was me and no one suspicious. I could see the client sweating, probably nervous about meeting 'The Clinton Bradford'.

The door thrust open by Eric; Clinton's right hand man, and a pretty good acquaintance of mine. He carried a rifle strapped on his shoulder over his black leather jacket. He then retreated to his designated place by the door. Two bodyguards, Derek and Sean, were standing, arms crossed to the right of Clinton's desk. Siblings Eric and Edd, who were both slightly older than the rest of us, were standing on each side of the door we just entered.

Sean was a really good friend of mine and we carried out most missions together, plus, we went to the same school by day. I've first met him when we were both mushed up into the same team five years ago. I was chosen as the leader of our sector and he was my right hand man. We both got along with the other guys perfectly because they respected and feared us at the same time. However, that was not the case for Derek. He was also a part of our six-man team but he has been in this business for the longest time between all of us, so he always felt insulted when either Sean or I were complimented on our great abilities while he just received a petty nod. To sum it up, he was a jerk and I, especially, have always fought with him.

At the far side of the room, Master Bradford was seated on a large leather chair, with his hands clutched together on the surface of the wooden desk placed in front of him. A look of disinterest was plastered on his stern face.

"Did you check the streets? You don't know who might follow these idiots," Clinton said, directing the words at me.

I nodded back without a word and he turned his attention to the client standing on my side. I marched towards my designated place, along with my other two colleagues, and crossed my arms over my chest.

"Mister- what was your name again?" Clinton asked the client, waving his hand nonchalantly.

"It's Stan and nice to meet you sir I've heard so much about you," The client said excitedly, taking quick steps towards Clinton, his hand outstretched.

We all put an alert hand on our guns, ready to make a move on any threat. Stan lowered his arm quickly and took a cautious gaze at the five of us who were ready to pounce. Clinton regarded him carefully, probably irritated by Stan's unprofessional gesture.