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Choices of the Heart

Chapter 7

"How the hell did you let this happen?!" The voice across the table bellowed to the two men sitting in front of him, as he threw the newspaper at them violently.

Tom Nash and Mike Jenkins looked at each other for a moment, nervously, unsure of what to say. After a moment, Nash began. "Boss, we…"

He was instantly cut off as he stared at the cold, unfeeling eyes in front of him. He tried to be calm. Often, he had that very same expression on his own face. He had to; it came with the job. In the world of pornography, murder, and drugs, a person didn't have time for the niceties of the seeing world. His job delved into the deep recesses of the human heart. He offered no sympathy to others; he expected none in return. He glanced at Jenkins next to him, and noted the stony expression on his face as well. He knew that he was thinking the same thing. They waited, silently, as their boss lashed out at them.

"Boss, we WHAT?" he shouted at them. He turned away from them, and paced across the floor to the window. Nash and Jenkins remained, unmoving. Finally, he turned back to them, his face remarkably calmer. However, his eyes held the fire and rage that his countenance betrayed. Nash and Jenkins stared, afraid of what might happen next.

"You know what? I don't want to know how you let this happen. This is one of the clearest examples of stupidity and negligence that I have ever seen. Look at that article."

He was breathing deeply, and his face was red. "LOOK AT IT!" he shouted, again.

Jenkins took the paper. There, on the front page, was the obvious reference point of his boss's anger. Nash looked over. He saw it, too.

Their boss took out a cigarette and lit it, sitting down across the table again. Inhaling deeply, he took a puff off the cigarette and blew the smoke into the faces of Nash and Jenkins. They held their breath. They dare not cough.

"Men," he began again, the scowl on his face deepening in between puffs from the cigarette. "Two days ago, this article was published nationally, and guess what?" He paused menacingly, before continuing. "There are more articles to follow, with more pictures, apparently. IF this site is discovered, and the evidence against us is uncovered, we're toast. Everything's over. You let this happen. The proof, all that's needed, is right here. See it?"

He reached over and forcefully grabbed Jenkins, smashing his face into the table, upon which the newspaper was lying. An audible crunch was heard as one of his teeth broke, and Jenkins finally raised his head, coughing up blood that was pouring from his mouth. He fought back the pain, knowing that talking back was not an option. Nash was immobile, observing.

Their boss, noting the blood, first cracked a small smile and then laughed diabolically. In a moment, he stopped. "Yes, yes," he began. "Stupidity must be punished." He paused, and then stood up, and walked slowly behind the men, who continued to look straight ahead. At once, Nash felt a searing pain as he was hit, violently, in the back. He could only guess it was a stick of some sort. The motion was repeated to the back of his neck, and he fell face forward, literally seeing stars. A grunt next to him told him, somewhere in the back of his mind, that the motion had been repeated on Jenkins.

"Heads up, boys," he heard the voice say. At once, he felt his head being grabbed his hair being pulled. He was, once again, in a sitting position. Vaguely, he saw Jenkins next to him as well; he had been treated the same. They both fought to focus as their boss moved in front of them. He sat down and faced them.

"Now you know I don't play around, and that mistakes must be punished," he said, as he stared at them with unwavering, unsympathetic eyes. Nash and Jenkins nodded in agreement. They ignored their pain; they had inflicted this, and much worse, on their own victims, many times.

"Very good," their boss said. "Now, I don't care how you do it, but you will do it. You must stop any further publication of these photos, or any others like it, and any articles. I've decided to help you out. Aren't I generous?" he asked, smirking.

"Thank you boss," Nash and Jenkins dutifully replied.

Their boss smiled, then began. "The girl's name is Callie Shaw, as you saw, Jenkins, when you got a good look at it!" he laughed, thinking back to how he had smashed Jenkins' face. "She's vacationing here with her boyfriend, his brother, and her friend. They won't be here more than a week. She's young- she's quite lovely. Do to her what you will," he said with a sardonic chuckle. "Whatever you do, make it good, AND…" he added, "prevent those pictures from getting out. Make it look like an accident."

"We will," Nash replied. He meant it.

"There is ONE complication, however," their boss continued. "Apparently, this young woman is dating one of the Hardy brothers. You know the name, eh? Fenton Hardy is their father, the detective. He's tangled with a few side branches of the organization before. These two men are reputable detectives as well. I understand they're quite close; their exploits have been chronicled over the years, and they're always together when they're not at school. You had better ensure that no more investigators- namely, them- find out anything more. Get from Miss Shaw what she told them, what she saw. She must be punished- severely- but keep clear of the brothers. They're potential trouble."

"We understand," Jenkins managed to get out.

"I knew you would," their boss replied, flicking the last of his cigarette ashes on the men in front of them. They didn't flinch.

As he left the room, Nash and Jenkins looked at one another, noting their injuries. Nash looked Jenkins straight in the eye. "If it wasn't for that damned girl, none of this would have happened," he said, his voice shaking. "We'll have to strike fast, and hard," he continued, slamming his hand on the table.

Jenkins slowly smiled, feeling relaxed. Nash was right. They'd enacted vengeance before; it was their job. And they were very, very good at it. "We'll get the little bitch, and not in the typical way, either. She'll be sorry she ever messed with us!"

Nash's own face curled into an equally harsh grin. He nodded his agreement, and they began to plan…