Mission 10 : The Last Lesson
He wakes up to find someone sitting in the chair at the end of the bed. The room is shadowed in darkness. He can't see the man's face. The way the man sits reminds him of Michael Corleone, the new Godfather. The man remains calm and quiet. He breaks into cold sweat and starts feeling scared. He wants to say something but he can't trust his voice. he doesn't want to show his weakness. He doesn't want to show his fear. He's a police detective, for God's sake. He has sworn to protect and serve. He catches bad guys for a living. But his gun is downstairs inside a drawer in the living room. And the man has a gun on his lap.
Slowly a cold shiver creeps down his spine and he starts feeling sick in his stomach. He never considers the man a threat. He never considers the man dangerous. In fact, he never ever thinks much of the man. Old, slow, clumsy, and out-of-shape. Uninterested in the outside world. He recognizes the man's existence, but seldom shows the man any respect. Now he suddenly realizes maybe that's a big mistake. He prays it's not too late...
"You broke into her apartment while she was taking a shower. You smashed her things. You cuffed her to her shower curtain rod." The man's voice is quiet and soft, his tone cold and flat. "And then you had the nerve to come to my house uninvited and let my wife serve you dinner. You must be so proud of yourself. Aren't you, you little bastard?"
The man stands up and raises the gun in his hand. It's the old .45 from his Army days, a proven deadly weapon. Cold fury radiates off him as he carefully takes aim. "Nobody treats my daughter without respect. Morelli. Nobody."
Joe Morelli opens his mouth, desperately trying to explain, to make Frank Plum understand. Alas, he never ever got the chance. The tall silent fairy godfather who dresses like the Grim Reaper shakes his head. Nothing beats a father's love.
And rage.