Gifted

5

The grey man sipped from his cup with pursed lips.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, gentlemen," he said lightly, "but something tells me that I am about to be thoroughly disappointed."

The two men opposite him exchanged nervous glances. They were sitting around a table in the grey man's private room in a coffee shop on Main Street, and they had come to make their report. One man was clutching a soiled rag to his mess of a face while the other dabbed at a bloody lump on his head with a wet cloth.

"We're sorry sir," the first man said, "we dis the best we could but-"

"Well clearly your best wasn't good enough," the grey man snapped.

The injured men couldn't see the grey man's face. He was wearing a black hood that hid his features, all except his mouth, but the injured men could feel the grey man's eyes burning into them all the same.

"We waited outside the Gaol like you said, sir. The girl was freed shortly after nine o'clock this morning, and she left with a man."

"Who was this man? Describe him," the grey man demanded.

"He had a nice suit on, and walked with a cane, though he didn't seem to use it much. Hard to tell how old he was but he had silver hair. Looked like one of them northern posh boys, no offence intended sir. Never seen him before, sir, and we like to make habit of knowing dangerous people, if you catch my drift, sir."

"Yes, well, if you're describing the person I'm thinking of, it isn't surprising you haven't heard of him. He likes to maintain a certain level of anonymity where possible. Where did they go after they left the jail?"

"Directly south, sir. We followed just like you asked, followed them deep into the southern district then..."

"Then what," the grey man said. "Speak quickly man, you're not nearly important enough for me to allow you to waste my time."

"Then nothing, sir. We don't remember anything after that, sir. But-"

"But clearly you subsequently allowed yourselves to be fooled and overpowered by an aging man and a little girl. I was told you were some of the best the southern districts had to offer, but it seems I was severely misinformed."

The two men had the grace to look ashamed of themselves.

"Will you be requiring any more of our services, sir," one of the men asked.

"No, I think not," the grey man replied, draining his cup.

"In which case, may we collect our payment, sir?"

"Ah yes, your payment. Of course."

The grey man reached down to a bag underneath his chair. He pulled out a double-barrelled pistol and stood.

The two men's eyes widened at the sight of the weapon.

"Wait-"

The gun roared twice as the grey man blew a hole through each man's head. He pulled off his hood and nodded in satisfaction at his weapon. The gun was a new design from the House of Vigilate and the grey man thoroughly approved.

A moment later, the owner of the coffee shop shuffled in through a side door.

"Dispose of the bodies and scrub the place clean," the grey man said, tossing a handful of coins onto the table in front of him. "If you talk about this to anyone, I will flay you alive myself."

The grey man put the gun and the hood into his bag. He stepped over the bodies and walked out of the shop without a second glance.