I Don't Kill & Tell

'Dear Victoria Elizabeth James Harlow.

You don't know who I am and for the moment, I would like to keep it that way. We have something you want, in fact, something that you didn't even know you had. Elizabeth and James Harlow are currently with us, they'd be asking for you if they knew you were still alive.

Anyway, instead of beating around the bush, let's cut to the chase, shall we? Your parents have been with us for about 16 years and let's just say that we're getting a bit bored with them. They couldn't get us what we want so it's your turn.

Inside the facility that you work for, there are some classified documents on Bernard Deangelos. All you need to know is that they're kept at grade 1 security clearance and we want them. So, we're going to get them.

You have three months and if we don't have them by then, a bullet will go in their heads, no hesitation. Oh, and we won’t stop there. We will come after you and anyone close to you. Also you might as well tell your little friend Ryder that Mr. Pierce won't live past July, either, if we don't get the information.  We trust that he is with you and will be just as willing as you to get us what we want.

If you don’t get what we want, then you know the outcome. Also if you think about playing any silly little games then we shall put a bullet in your parents head and Mr. Pierce.

As proof that your parents and Mr. Pierce are alive I have attached a photo to the letter.

If you need to contact us, please use the number at the bottom of the paper. We look forward to doing business with you'.

After rereading, I placed it down beside me. Parents. Attached photograph. There’s no way, I thought. I turned my head and was about to walk away, as far away from the tainted letter as I possibly could, but the word ‘parents’ was playing over in my head like a scratched CD. I reached inside the envelope and for several minutes, stared at the picture.

Like the letter had said, there sat two adults. Neither of them were smiling. In fact, the man looked angry. His hair was curly, flopping over his forehead. His jaw covered with the beginnings of a beard, almost hiding his snarl. His eyes, shining emeralds, weren’t looking at the camera, but at the person stood behind it. He was definitely angry at whoever was telling him to ‘smile’. The woman, on the other hand, was sat beside the male. Her expression merely sad. Unlike the man, her hair was blonde, falling in an unbrushed mess over her shoulders and beyond her breasts, framing her thin face.

There was just no way that the two people in this picture were my parents. It was impossible. My parents had died sixteen years ago in a car crash.

I allowed a condescending laugh to escape my lips, but before I was tossed the picture beside the letter, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror above me. As I glanced back down at the man, I noticed that they were similar, very similar. The magnificent green was uncanny. So what, he had green eyes. Lots of people had green eyes.

But then I found myself staring at the woman. Her button nose was almost identical to my own. I grabbed the letter and moved closer to the mirror. I held the picture up to the mirror and looked back and forth between photograph and my reflection. It couldn’t be true. But then I shared so many of their features. As much as I wanted to deny that they were merely strangers taken off the street to faze me, I couldn’t.

I flipped the picture over and read the black, bold letters that were printed on the back. Elizabeth and James Harlow. I peered back into the envelope and fished out the other picture.

A picture of the supposed ‘Mr. Pierce’.

With a shaved head and tattoos covering his arms, he looked like the type of person you would deliberately avoid in the street. To say the man in the picture looked roughed would be an understatement.

I slid the photographs back into the envelope, along with the letter and headed up to Mason Barker, the computer geek. He was a whiz when it came to technology. If you want information on anyone then he was the go-to guy. If you wanted to hack a system then he could do it with his eyes closed.

Tapping a few times on the white panel door, I waited for Mason to open up. Seconds later and the door swung open and he stood there in the gap. He was dressed in some jeans and a plain t-shirt with some geeky writing on it. ‘May the forth be with you.’ He had his thick, black squared glasses perched on his nose, his blue eyes staring through them. His black shaggy looking hair was matted to his forehead.

“Tori, what brings you to my room?” He asks.

I held out the envelope to him, “I need your help with something.”