The phone call jarred him from his pleasant slumber , an ominously disturbing sound that seemed to echo through the spacious room. It was 3:30 a.m. He grunted into the phone, "Agent Ron." The voice he heard over the line chilled his blood in an instant. To any eavesdropper, the voice at the other end would have sounded beautiful, a silken voice, slightly tinted with the flavor of a Russian accent. To him, it was the voice of a satanic temptress. "Somehow I don't picture you as a Ron," the voice laughed at him. William clenched his jaw as he asked her shortly, "What do you want?" There was a sound of clicking, and he could imagine in his mind, perfectly manicured nails, painted blood red, tapping methodically and contemplatively against a glossy wooden table. "Impatience, my dear, is one of your most unattractive traits. You must have learned by now that it simply won't get you anywhere." Again the voice tinkled with laughter as it continued, "Besides, you know why I've called don't you? Not only am I curious to know how your reunion went, but I've also called because I've missed you dearly and must meet with you at 7:00 a.m. at the park on Sequoia and Hawke." "Is this necessary?" he asked irritably. "You are our most valuable possession, you forget. We mustn't make mistakes on our first mission now should we? And don't worry, your room is not bugged, nor is your phone, so there should be no reason why you should be hindered from coming tomorrow," With a soft click, the voice vanished, and William was left to his own dark thoughts.
The sun rose, and along with it, a sheet of gray clouds that somehow muffled the world of sound that usually precludes the official start of day. William rose quietly, already dressed in a pair of jogging shorts and a white t-shirt. He wondered whether Doris had spent the night. Pausing briefly before his son's bedroom door, he leaned his ear gently against it, and listened for sounds of life. Hearing nothing, he quietly slipped through the apartment, unnoticed, and jogged his way over to the park.
Everything was eerily silent about this particular morning. Birds did not sing, the usual roaring of construction trucks could not be heard, and the air was thick with the humidity before an impending storm. Suddenly, a woman dressed in a flowing black skirt fell into stride with him. The familiar musty smell of her perfume notified him that it was her, and he followed wordlessly into the depths of the forest. They continued their leisurely walk for what seemed like fifteen minutes, the tall evergreens seemingly engulfing them in a tunnel of obscurity. The gray skies now only appeared to them in patches below the ceiling of the evergreen boughs, and the ground was no longer a paved path, but rather soft unturned soil. At last, she seemed satisfied with where they had come, and she seated herself on a stone bench that William had failed to notice at first.
"Come, sit next to me," she said, patting the space next to her. William stood before her silently, not making any movement to join her. She sighed and removed the hat that had been veiling her face. "Do you find me so unattractive?" When he did not reply, he looked up at him, her usually impassive face contorting into what William perceived to be a twisted smile of sadistic coyness. "It's been 25 years, William. When will you give in to the idea that your family has moved on without you? They need you no longer. They have grieved, they have been angry, and now, they have their own lives. Do not hold a grudge against me for doing what was best for your family." At this, William whirled on her in anger, "Don't you dare tell me that YOU did what was best for MY family. You simply handed me an ultimatum. I had no choice but to join you and your filthy crew." "No choice you say...how interesting. You had a lot of choices Mr. Vaughn. You simply chose our way, and let me commend you on that. It was the right choice. I would have done the same for my own if I was being blackmailed by a terrorist agency that was watching every movement of my family, ready in one second to kill them all." As she said this, she reached up and took a hold of William's arm, tracing lazily along his skin with her red painted talons. "Relax, you left at the epitome of your career. Your name was free of scandal and dishonor. Michael will always remember you as a hero. You needn't worry that he'll discover someday that....well, that you are a traitor to everything he stands for."
William was usually very good at compartmentalizing his anger, but the latter statement tore the last steel gate of dignity and composure he had spent years building up inside himself. In an instant, he held a glinting switchblade at the white throat of the woman who sat before him. The woman had not flinched, but instead, gazed back at him with her lovely, cool eyes, holding a particularly gruesome looking dagger alongside William's jagular artery. "I wouldn't try anything Mr. Vaughn. You are an agent, and you have already forgotten the first lesson concerning rage. It'll get you into more trouble than you bargained for." The two figures stood stock still in that position for what seemed hours, William's rage expelling through his mouth in short hitched breaths. He glared into her face as he spat out the following words, "I'm through with you and your agency. You're wasting your time with me today if you think you're going to get me to follow through with this mission." Her soft laughter caused him to blink in surprise, a precious second of surprise that she took full advantage of as she knocked the switchblade out of his hand into an unknown location. "You're in no position to tell me what you are going to do, "she said as she pressed the point of the dagger dangerously close to his throat. "Kill me, I don't care," William said unruffled by her sudden movements. "Foolish man. You would want to live, if you knew of things that are unknown to you now." She paused, allowing her words to sink in. "Because your ignorance is jeopardizing everything that you have to live for, I will just have to enlighten you. And also because I'm somewhat attracted to you..." here she grabbed both sides of William's face in her hands and kissed him lustfully on the lips, "I feel obliged to save you from unnecessary grief." William jerked away in disgust as he backed away into the trunk of a tree. He waited, his heart pounding in his temples as he studied the face that stared back at him knowingly.
She ran her fingers through her flowing brown hair, and gazed up at some unknown object to the right. "Tell me William, how is Michael?"
William stared back at her, the color draining from his face. "What have you done, you witch..."
"I only ask about his health. Is he well?" she asked innocently, avoiding eye contact with the man before her.
"Leave him out of this. I'll do whatever you say," William said calmly, willing his voice to remain steady, willing himself to not to give himself away by allowing the tremors of fear overtake his body.
When she did not answer, he gripped her forearm in a death-like grip, causing her to wince as he demanded, "What have you done?"