Ice meets metal
Winston stood over him; he was definitely having another one of his troublesome dreams, the dreams he pretends he never has. His eyes were pressed hard together, his muscles were tense, he was moaning slightly, and his fists were clenched.
"Chance," Winston whispered shaking his shoulder. "Chance," he repeated a little louder.
Chance bolted up his hand instinctively reached for his gun, ready for action. Winston eased Chance by placing a hand on his shoulder. As usual, he decided not to ask him what he was dreaming. "Hey, um, we have a new client downstairs waiting for us." His voice was sympathetic, not because of having a new job, but because of the dream. Winston couldn't even pretend to grasps the darkness of Chance's dreams. Hell where would he begin; his childhood? Can't imagine. Being raised and manipulated by the Old Man? Forget it. His assignments, his close calls, his guilt, his loss of friendship...love? The words, 'I know how you must feel' just didn't apply here.
"Right," Chance sat up. "No worries, I'll be right down."
"Ya sure?" Winston questioned, giving him the once over.
"Yap," he gave Winston an easy nod.
Chance slid open the partially closed door to the boardroom.
The mumbled chatter simultaneously stop and everyone turned and looked at Chance.
"Here he is now, this is my colleague, Christopher Chance." Winston appeared relaxed and confident.
Chance stepped forward and met the extended hand of a handsome young man, strong with broad shoulders and a pretty young blond woman, expensively put together; Chance's immediate opinion was trophy wife.
"Chance meet Joe Dalgleish and his wife, Brandi," Winston proceeded with formalities.
The young man was visibly nervous and uneasy. The woman smiled hopefully at Chance. He moved into the room and took a seat across from the couple.
For the next several minutes Chance sat quietly as Winston went on about their usual protocol.
"We work with a cover. Blend into you everyday life. We try to get the threat to reveal itself." It was their typical speech, Chance heard it a thousand times.
Then Winston began to explain Joe's case to Chance. The usually stoic Chance shifted nervously tapping his heel on the floor.
Winston paused and did a double take at Chance, Chance stopped and Winston continued on.
"Mr Chance here will not leave your side," Winston nodded proudly toward Chance. "You just do what you are paid to do and don't worry about the threat. With any luck they'll try to take you out."
"That's your strategy, to make me a moving target?" Joe sounded alarmed. "Asking me to ignore their demands is like painting a bullseye on my back."
"Chance will be your bullseye, your human target. By having you go about your normal life and job makes you appear vulnerable and it's the best way to force the threat to make a move. Chance will be with you when it happens."
"So you are going to take my case?" Joe asked hopefully.
Winston opened his mouth to answer affirmatively when Chance cut him off.
"Um, Winston, can I have a word with you," Chance thumbed towards the door. Then to the would be client, "this will just take a sec." He got up and left.
Winston's brows drew a line together. "Please excuse us," Winston said apologetically as he pushed himself up from the table.
Winston slid the boardroom door closed behind him and tramped up to a pacing Chance.
"What's going on, you can see this guy needs our help?" Winston's head was slightly shaking.
"I heard," Chances eyes tightened. "I just think maybe the authorities can help him with this one." Chance shrugged his shoulders.
"Are you wacky? You heard him." Winston was growing impatient. "The threat made it very clear he was a dead man if he didn't 'fix' the outcome to their liking or if he involved the authorities." The tension in Winston's shoulders increased.
"I know it's just..."
"He's the next biggest thing to come out of Canada since... since..."
Chance crossed his arms and tilted his head towards Winston. "Since?"
"Ah, the guys name escapes me right now," Winston cleared his throat. "Point is these gambling rings are huge and powerful. There's a lot of money at stake and that, as it so often does, results in someone getting...dead." He whispered the last word like the waiting client might hear.
Chance pushed his hands deep into his pockets. "Crosby," Chance mumbled. Winston looked at him puzzled. "He's the biggest thing to come out of Canada since Sidney Crosby." Chance finished Winston's earlier attempted statement.
Chance forced himself to meet Winston's eyes and in an almost defeated gesture he sagged against the wall. "Winston, I ... I don't think I know how to play hockey." Chance's eyes were blank, devoid of confidence.
Winston's eye bulged, his mouth slightly opened and closed then it turned to a bemused smile. "You don't think?" He repeated his words.
"Well," Chance broke eye contact. "With other covers I just did them, I never even thought about it. My knowledge, experience, instinct and strength got me through most anything. But this...?" he took one hand out of his pockets and gestured towards the client. "You can be the strongest, smartest man in the world, the most versatile athlete there is...but put skates...it's a whole new ball game..." Chance met Winston's eyes again somewhat sheepishly. "Or in this case...whole new hockey game." He allowed one side of his mouth to smile at his clever comment.
I guess we'll have to settle for equipment boy." Winston turned and walked away trying to keep a straight face.
"Manager; Equipment Manager," Chance corrected him bunching up his bottom lip giving a half-hearted shrug in an attempt to glorify his now demoted cover.
"Let's just hope you don't end up as the water boy." Winston smirked over his shoulder.
A/N: It was extremely hard to come up with something Chance couldn't do. It was a great challenge from Niagaraweasel and a fun one.
Hockey is one of the fastest, hardest sports to play. Not only do you have to be a great athlete but you have to be able to do it on ice...at 30km/h,(almost 19 mph.)
I do not believe hockey games are fixed but it makes for a fun story, especially when gambling is involved. I could see it happening. Threatening the star of a team to throw a game or he and his family would die...Big money in Vegas on these games...big money, big corporate, corrupt money.