The Small Ghost

XIV

Sir chuckled as he tossed the ball from hand to hand. He turned in his seat when someone knocked, placing his boots on the mahogany wood before speaking, "Enter." An agent walked in, eyes flitting around as he quickly sat in the chair closest to the desk. He fiddled with his hands before flinching and placing them on his lap.

"What did you need?"

"Uh, I may have figured out who Camile Danvers sent the message to," the agent spoke. Sir raised an eyebrow, ceasing in his tossing as he gave the man his full attention.

"I can get my toy back?" Sir smiled evilly, placing his elbows on the desk as he leaned in. The agent was undeterred by the close proximity, continuing his explanation as though he didn't have his life on the line being in the same room as this lunatic. "What have you found?"

"Er, it's the Justice League. Or rather, their little group of sidekicks gathered together to make a team of teens. In my opinion, it's too many hormones."

"No one asked your opinion," Sir snapped before he swiped everything off his immaculate desk and hopped on top of it. "D-114 will be back with me and I will make his life a hell far worse than eternal damnation! Now, agent, get me the boy."

The agent blinked. "Uh, he's in with that team. I can't get in there and just grab him."

Sir raised an eyebrow, hopping behind his desk as he stared out the window and clasped his hands behind his back. This new warehouse was different from the last. The breakout that caused D-114's escape forced Sir to relocate. Luckily it was only 20 kilometers west of the old spot. Though it was a pain moving all the instruments and documents, this facility allowed Sir great views of the estate. He might even let the little brat see some during his punishment.

"Sir?" Probably not.

The man sighed, quickly whipping around and placing two bullets in the agent's head. The body dropped to the floor with a thick thud. Sir clicked his tongue when a drop of blood landed on his white suit jacket. Sighing, the man delicately peeled off the coat, draping it over the back of his chair while he attended to the gun.

"Just can't find good help these days," Sir mumbled. "I just asked for one thing, my toy to be back with me. Was that too much to ask? Do I ask too much of my lessers?" Sir asked his gun as he waved it around. "I mean, it wasn't too difficult a task, right? I just told him to get him back from that blasted team," Sir growled, slamming the gun on the desk as he sank into his chair. Running a hand along his face, Sir finished wiping off the blood speckled on his gun before moving to the large closet in the back of his office.

Thumbing through the hangars, the man settled on a simple blue dress shirt and a pair of slacks. Sir grunted as he slipped his muscular arms through the sleeves of the shirt, pulling it taut as he adjusted it on his shoulders. He settled back behind his desk, spinning around in the chair as he reached for his ball. Tossing the small object from hand to hand, Sir called for another agent. Hopefully, he wouldn't have to kill all of them by the end of the day.

-----

Sir panted as he wiped his brow, sweat running to the tip of his nose as he abruptly stood up. He growled at the pile of bodies that managed to decorate his floor. Sighing, Sir stretched before turning to the agent that was trembling in the seat so many had died in.

"Sir?"

The man narrowed his eyes, watching as his Adam's apple seemed to tremble along with the young man's body. Sir smiled, watching as it didn't seem to assuage the panic in the man's eyes as Sir walked around the desk. Placing a meaty hand on the agent's shoulder Sir whispered in his ear, "Why, that's a perfect idea." Sir laughed maniacally, hopping on his desk as his mind raced faster than his tongue could keep up. Finally, a good idea from the people he doesn't pay, at least they proved their worth every once in a while.