Ande: The stuff you wanted to know about Rollson:
Chapter 3
Doug didn't like this side of town. It gave him the creeps. Old weathered buildings with smashed windows and ancient billboards that were half ripped away. The Coca-Cola mural that was painted across one old building was covered with gang signs and other spray-painted messages. Doug shoved his hands into his pockets, disliking the moist tension that hung in the air. It squeezed on his lungs, putting him in an even worse mood. His feet crunched audibly on the moist and dirty sidewalk. No one bothered to clean up this area of town. The ones who cared enough, wouldn't dare live in a district like this, much less walk through it. The locals might wonder why Doug himself would walk through such a neighborhood. It was clear that he didn't belong.
A passerby was approaching from the opposite direction. His curious eyes looked out of a pasty face, half swallowed by the bandana that had been wrapped about his head. His shoulder's, lean and muscled, poked out of the sides of his wife beater moving in the rhythm of his gangster walk. More than likely, the guy was harmless, but Doug wasn't going to take his chances. He sent a menacing glare in the local's direction. The guy averted his eyes immediately. Doug moved on, satisfied. If the guy had been thinking about mugging him before, he certainly wasn't thinking about it now.
If he remembered correctly, Rollson only lived one street further on. He quickened his pace. He didn't want to be late for their meeting. Rollson was an irritable sort of man. Fair, usually, but irritable too.
He was right. He knew the place. Even looking upon it from a distance, he knew it. A four story, red brick building that looked as though it had once been an apartment complex. It was clear to see that it wasn't now, when one took in the razor-topped fence that surrounded the property. Doug wouldn't be surprised if it was an electric fence. He stepped up to it. His fingers touched the cool metal surface, not receiving a shock. Of course it wouldn't be turned on at normal times, but if Rollson were under siege by some of his enemies, it would be the perfect time to turn it on.
"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" A gruff voice demanded from behind him. "There'll be no loitering around here!"
Doug's lip quirked as he turned to face the man. He'd heard the man's boot scuffing the grass about the perimeter a mile away. It was best not to mention this. Rollson's security usually got pretty wigged out when someone had one over them. Besides, if he let the other man assume he was in control of the situation, he would get to Rollson much quicker.
"I'm here to see Rollson," he responded, letting his hands hang limply at his sides.
"Do you have an appointment?"
Now that Doug had turned, he could see the guy was massive. He had a giant's build and an intimidating face. Doug would have expected as much. Rollson probably had more skilled members of his team, but they were likely less formidable looking.
Doug scrounged around in his pocked, pulling the creased note free. He handed it to the security guy. The guy blinked at it for a moment. He snorted, "That's his handwriting, all right!"
Doug smiled although his mind was drawing a blank. Probably an inside joke.
"Come with me," the man said, nudging his massive shoulder to the front gate. Doug followed a step behind, being sure to keep his senses open to everything. If this meeting suddenly turned out bad, he'd need to make a run for it. He clearly couldn't beat the hundreds of men. Rollson had only sent a few of his men to help the Colonel last fall. He'd had more important tasks to take care of at the time. But no one refuses the Colonel. Doug's father was a legend among 'wolf hunters. Even Rollson knew when to kiss up.
The massive guy took out a pair of keys and opened the front gate. He gestured for Doug to pass through, which he did. "Go to the front door," the security guy instructed. Someone will show you the way from there."
Doug did as he was told, rapping lightly. The door opened immediately to display a considerably smaller individual. "You are Douglas Vince?" the man asked.
"Doug," He agreed.
The man nodded. "Down the hall. Third door to your left."
The building was in considerably better shape from the inside. The hall's wooden floor looked as though it had just been redone and the walls repainted. Rollson was not in need of money. He'd been born into a wealthy family who owned one of the largest hotel chains in the world. When werewolves had killed his parents, he started siphoning some of that money for other uses. This building had some of the most high tech electronic equipment he had ever seen.
Doug knocked on the third door. One just didn't barge in on Rollson.
"Come in," came a muffled voice.
Doug opened the door to reveal a man sitting at a cherry wood desk. Cherry wood display cabinets were also set at different angles around Rollson's office. Some held different types of weapons specially fashioned for the 'wolf hunter's use. Others held newspaper clippings of all the other deaths he had been involved in. And they weren't all runaway 'wolf rogues that nobody would miss. Somehow, he'd always managed to evade prosecution. But Rollson had the kind of money needed to cover his tracks.
"Sit down," Rollson suggested, pointing to the black leather seat with the cherry wood back that sat across from his desk. He smiled beneath the graying mustache.
Doug sat, feeling a little jittery. He didn't allow it to show outwardly. He knew he looked as calm as if he'd just walked into an ordinary business meeting. Doug held most of the cards as long as his emotions didn't give him away.
"You want to see me about a job?" Doug asked getting right down to business. It was a trait he had learned from his father. Rollson wasn't quite so inclined.
"Tell me," Rollson said. "You've been in town all this time and you've never come to visit me?"
"I've been taking a break from hunting," Doug answered. It was a good answer. It said enough without saying too much. "The last adventure took a toll on me."
"Ah, yes," Rollson leaned forward in his desk, his fingers threading as he sent Doug an inquisitive glance. "It's terrible about what happened to your father. And your sister, too. That must have been a terrible blow, to see Jamie turned into one of their kind. To something evil."
Doug didn't respond to this. It was a sensitive issue for him and he didn't appreciate Rollson bringing it up. In fact, he was rather peeved that the man would be so insensitive as to rub it in.
"So about this job," Doug said instead.
"It's good to talk about this," Rollson persisted. "Get it out in the open. Like the fact that your sister's still alive—or what's left of her. I'm surprised you haven't killed that thing yet. It would do Jamie's memory good not to kill that evil soul inhabiting her body. But I'm sure it's hard for you…the thought of killing something that looks like your sister; that acts like her."
Doug ground his teeth beneath his impassive face. How could Rollson bring him here on a pretense of a job and spew this garbage before him? He would have liked nothing better than to have punched Rollson right in the center of his contemplative face. But he knew he couldn't do that. Well, he couldn't do it and get away with it.
"Well," Doug stood with exaggerated calm. "If you don't have a job for me, I think I'll be on my way."
"Wait," Rollson lifted his hand in a stop gesture. Doug paused and sat back in the seat. On the exterior, Rollson made the word seem more like a suggestion than an order. But he could see beneath the other man's exterior. A commanding, almost irritated glance shone in Rollson's eyes. The look vanished into a smile upon Doug sitting back into his seat.
"I do have a job for you," he said. "I'm sorry if bringing out those memories upset you. I just wanted to understand your position better. I wanted to see if you were good for the job. To make sure you hadn't changed your feelings toward the 'wolves."
"Never," Doug said with a dark look. This statement was only half true.
Rollson smiled with a satisfied look. "That's all I needed to know. I had to ask, Doug. I know this business takes a toll on all of us. I just want you to know that I understand. The 'wolves took my family away too."
Doug only nodded and hoped the conversation would end soon.
Rollson opened a desk drawer and pulled out a manila envelope, placing it in front of Doug. "Open it," he suggested.
Doug ripped open the seal and stuck his hand inside. Sheaves of paper held together with a rubber band met Doug's fingers. He pulled out a stack and looked at the green money that was held between his fingers. He wanted it. He knew he did. It had been hard enough just to pay for this semester at the college. No one would offer him a student loan without some sort of backing. He didn't have anyone to co-sign for him.
"That's two thousand dollars," Rollson said with a nod toward the money. "And that's just for this job. I plan to make use of you in the future if you'll oblige."
"Depends," Doug held out. "I'm not much of a joiner. Tell me what the job is and I'll make my decision."
"Neither was your father," Rollson chuckled. "I tried to get him to work with me several times. He generally chose to work on his own. But I'll make this worth your while."
Rollson picked up a photograph from inside another drawer and placed it in front of Doug. It was a picture of a clean-cut man beaming into the camera. He had the air of a businessman with his dark hair slicked back and a hundred-watt smile. His shiny whites nearly made Doug want to squint. The only thing unusual about the picture was the man's eyes. From the first glance he'd taken, Doug noticed the silver ring surround the pupil. Werewolf.
"His name's Tony Waldowin." Rollson remarked. "A rival of mine in the hotel business. He started out as a really small chain, but he's grown as he's taken over other businesses or other businesses have mysteriously died out. You see, the owners and CEO of these other businesses were all turning up dead with the strange animal bites. Tony seemed to like to disembowel his victims. Of course, no one would ever blame Tony for an animal attack. Now I think Mr. Waldowin has placed his greedy eye on my business. But I," Rollson continued, placing a finger in his own direction, "am a little harder to kill."
Doug swallowed the bile rising up his throat. This Tony guy was obviously not a nice character. He deserved to be taken down a notch or two.
"What do you want me to do?" He asked of Rollson?"
"I want you to kill him," Rollson replied simply. "And because I trust you so much, I'm willing to give you the money in advance."
"Done."
