Chapter 2: Old Friend, New Opportunity


The Big Boy Bob's Bar was a place Darien usually didn't go to. Tonight, however, his depression caused him to enter the first bar he came across and this was it. The place was loud, dirty, and full of smoke. The lights were dim and it was very crowded. It smelled like crap. It too, was decorated with all sorts of decorations, all of which did not seem to help its rowdy atmosphere. Has soon as Darien had entered a fight broke causing a table to flipped and shattered glass to fly everywhere.


"Ahh, nothing like the Christmas spirit," he remarked.


Fawkes went up to counter and ordered a scotch, straight-up. He slowly drank it, and then another and another and another. On his fifth scotch a rock-type version of 'Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas' started playing on the beat jukebox in the corner.


"That damn song," he slurred, "If I never hear it again it will be too soon."


He gulped down the last of his drink.


"Hey Bar-guy! Can I have three more of whatever this was?" asked Darien as he held up his glass.


"Three, mister?"


"Yeah, three. One for me, one for myself, and one for I. Got that?"


"Sure, buddy, but after that no more for you. Hey, you didn't drive here did ya?"


"Naw, I walked. Besides, my stupid company car's a piece of crap anyway, so even if I crashed it, it would prob'ly look the same anyway."


"Okay man. Three more scotches, hear ya go."


"Thanks man."


A few minutes later another man came in and sat down next to Darien. He was slightly shorter than Darien, with shorter hair. He was dressed in old clothes that looked like they needed a good washing too. His face was rough, like it had not been shaved in awhile, and worn, as if it had seen many bad things. He wasn't old or homeless however. Just a little worn out. He didn't seem to notice Darien sitting next to him.


"I'll have a rum and coke, and hold the coke," he said in a gruff and tired voice.


"Be right up."


Darien decided it was time for him to go. Even in his drunken state he knew he had had enough and decided to go home. He reached for his wallet, but his fingers weren't moving the way he wanted them to and he dropped it on the floor.


"Aw, crap."


He bent over to pick it up and then hit is head on the counter.


"Aw crap," he said again.


This caused the gruff-looking man next to him to look over.


"You okay there buddy?" the man asked.


"I'm fine 'k? Mind your own damn business," replied Darien.


As Darien sat up and paid the bartender, the man got a good look at his face.


"Fawkes? Darien Fawkes?"


"Yeah. What's it to you?" slurred an angry Darien.


"Don't you remember me? It's Kifton. You know, Max Kifton? The Kiffer?"


"Max Kifton? God man, I didn't recognize you! How've you been? When did they let you out?"


"About a month ago. Good behavior, and the guy I robbed died and didn't press charges. Still got my good luck don't I?"


"I'll say! Hey, there's a free booth over there. Probably dirty as hell but why not take it. Catch up on some old times?"


"Sure thing pal."


Darien was thrilled to see his old pal from high school. Finally he had someone he could talk to, relate to, and to reminisce with. Because he was so drunk, though, and because he felt so alone, he had forgotten all the trouble Max had gotten him into. Stealing cars, robbing houses, stores, and later after high school they had pulled off some major jobs, a couple of which were done with Liz as well. The two old pals grabbed the booth and started up a lively conversation. Fawkes was right, the booth was dirty as hell, but the two didn't seem to care.


"So what have you been up to Max? Last thing I heard was in the newspaper when you were caught robbing some old guys house for petty cash."


"Well, that's basically all I had been doing, a little job here, a little one there. Since I've got out I've been keeping a low profile, but I was just contacted for a big one. Real big," Kifton whispered. "So what about you? Last thing I heard about you was front page news-'Burglar Molester of the Elderly'. It was your third strike so I figured they'd put you away forever. How'd you get out?"


"My brother. I made this deal with him and he got me out. Now I'm working for the Bureau of Health and Human Services."


"A government lacky, uh? My how things change. So what kind of deal did he make with you?"


"Oh nothing big. Just my soul for my freedom. Trust me, you wouldn't want to know anything else."


"Hey, I've always respected your privacy. You know that. So why are you here, and what have you been drinking. You smell like crap!"


"Well, I learned today that the friends I thought I had really no absolutely nothing about me and I had nothing better to do. Eight scotches, straight-up."


"Wow. You always could hold your liquor pretty good man. Best lock-man I have ever knew too. Hey that reminds me."


Kifton quick glanced around at the people near them and brought his voice down to whisper not that it would matter. Another fight had broken out and the bar was louder than ever.


"About that big job I mentioned earlier, I'm gonna need someone who's good with locks and alarms. Real good, better than good. I don't wanna take anyone knew. It's too risky for this. Fawkes- I want you to help me with this one. I trust you, and you're the best I know."


Darien stared at his friend for a minuted. Almost shocked at what he just heard.


"I don't know Max. I mean, it's been almost two years since I last pulled a real job. I've been trying to stay on the right path and all that crap."


"Listen Fawkes. I don't want you to do anything you don't want to. You've cleaned up, and that's more than I could ever do. But trust me, you are the best man for this, and the payoff is gonna be huge. Besides, you said before that no one cares about you anway and you have nothing better to do."


"Hey, man that's not what I said. You're twisting my words."

"Fine. You may have not said exactly that, but that's what it sounded like to me. And don't forget, I always could read you like a book."

"I didn't even know you could read."


"Ha ha. Very funny. But, seriously, aren't you the least bit interested?"


Darien though for a minute. He thought about his grandmother and aunt and how if he got in trouble again how much it would hurt them. His drunk half took over and said,


"Hey, they didn't even want to see you for Christmas anyway and that all they sent were some crappy cards and cash anyway. They really don't care that much."


Then he thought of the Agency. If the Official found out would he with hold counteragent? Let him rot in that white, padded room? The drunk half took over again and told him


"So what. That stupid fat-man couldn't hold him in there forever and besides he wasn't going to find out anyway."


Then he thought of Bobby and Claire. They were the ones who were always defending him. Telling everyone that he was a good, clean man now. The drunk half too over again.


"But the gifts they had gotten him didn't show that. The stupid movie and books and hurt more than anything. They really don't care either."


These were the thoughts that Darien struggled with in his mind. He felt like one of those cartoons with the angel on one shoulder and the devil on the other. Which would he listen to? He looked Kifton straight in the eyes and then took out a pen and scrap of paper.


"This is my home number and address. When you call ask if its the video store. I'll tell you you've got the wrong number. Then meet me at the park at this location one hour from the call time."


Darien hesitated, and then handed over the paper. He could just visualize the angel having a panic attack and then keeling over.


"You'd better be in touch within one day or there's no guarantee that I haven't changed my mind. I'm only on vacation till January second. If it's not pulled off by then, no deal. And man, this better be as big a payoff as you say it is."


Max looked over the paper and smiled.


"Thanks man. Video store, park, one hour. Got it. You don't know what it means to me to be back on a team with you Fawkes."


"Yeah well, don't go and get all mushy on me. I'm going home to sleep off some of this scotch. One day."


"Right man. Oh and Darien? Great hair."


Darien smiled and then left the bar without another word. Leaving the angel on the floor, twitching. He stumbled down the street and climbed the stairs to his apartment. He was lucky that he hadn't come into contact with any cops. An arrest for public drunkenness was the last thing he needed. Once in the apartment he locked the doors behind him and headed to the kitchen. He spied his gifts and shoved them in a cupboard somewhere. He picked up the video on the floor and shoved it in the refrigerator. Then he headed to his bed and threw himself on it, falling fast asleep. For the first time in a long while, it was a dreamless sleep, and it felt so good. And, for the first time in a long while, he was looking forward to another day.


TBC

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