"Frank, tell us why exactly you've started working with Way?" somebody asks and the hole bar starts to giggle in excitement.
Frank smiles with the corners of his mouth and lights a cigarette. He walks over to the bar and leans against it, casually straightening his hair and taking a drag. Then he slightly squints, trying to remember how exactly that happened. An expression of longing passes over his face for a moment, which he shrugs off as he begins to talk.
"The Boss once called me over and said that I just have to try to work with someone at least once. A very talented guy as she said," says Iero, making quotes with his fingers, which makes everyone around him giggle softly, and he again replays all the memories associated with Gerard in his brain.
"But he was good," says a woman somewhere nearby Frank.
He looks up at her, trying to remember where he's seen her face. He just nods and takes another drags as soon as he realizes that there's no chance to remember her name.
"They both are the legends of the Company!" these words make everyone burst into applause as it seems to relate to the Company. You just have to applause if you talk about the Company that way.
He smiles sheepishly and nods as he leaves the bar that the Company has rented for tonight.
He is tired of listening to their enthusiastic voices and answering stupid questions, and the memory of Gerard has reminded him about the days he wishes he's forgotten. He decided to go home away from the crowd of these unfamiliar people.
Technically, he did what he was asked to do, showing up at the bar at the right time. The fact that he should be there all evening was not stipulated.
He took a last drag on his cigarette and dropped it on the sidewalk, moving toward the car. Snapping the alarm key, he sat down in the car and let out a deep breath as the memories came flooding back.
He shook his head, not wanting to go on with it, started the car, and drove off. Frank drove with little thought of what he was doing. He was looking out of the window, but less at the road.
At one of the traffic lights, he had been delayed longer than planned, so now he was looking at passers-by walking in both directions right in front of his hood. Then his gaze fell on the hooded man, who was walking faster than the others. Frank felt electricity coming down his spine.
No. It can't be him. Goosebumps began to run up and down his shoulders, and before he could even think, his hand's opened the car door, while his feet's darted toward the figure of the guy who's already moved forward on the sidewalk.
"Hey!" he ran to him, grabbing his shoulder, feeling a surge of excitement in the pit of his stomach, "Gerard?"
The guy abruptly turns and throws the hand off his shoulder. He looks at Frank, startled.
Iero's insides collapsed. It's not him.
Those eyes having nothing in common with Way's.
"I'm sorry, I got it wrong," Frank says awkwardly. Apparently, he scared the guy so much that he can't spell a word.
Frank turns and walks towards the car. The traffic lights are already honking at him. He curses and gets into the car, starting abruptly.
Now he's mad at himself.
"Gerard? Frank, you're crazy," he mimics himself, maneuvering between other cars.
When he finally arrives at the multi-story building where his apartment is located, Frank takes a deep breath. The whole evening had reminded him of the past too many times. About the past, which he has been trying to forget for a long time. He did not like the fact that these memories still evoke vivid emotions in him. It shouldn't be like this, and he's not happy with himself.
In the elevator Frank looks at his tired face, shaking his head at the reflection. He decides that he's had enough and it's time to stop it. When he enters the apartment, he takes off his leather jacket, tossing it on a chair, and then stops, glaring at the sofa in front of him.
"Frank, a coffee, please!" Gerard splashes his hands theatrically as he plops down on the sofa.
Frank raises an eyebrow, looking at him with some irritation.
"Iero, I won't work without coffee, so make it for me. If I knew where you keep your things at, I could handle it myself."
Frank grumbles and goes into the kitchen, listening to Gerard's endlessly enthusiastic chatter as he prepares coffee for both of them.
As Iero replays this memory in his head, he smiles in spite of himself, then slaps his forehead in exasperation. It's time to stop. He almost growls with anger at himself and goes to the bathroom to stand under a hot shower for about half an hour or even longer.
Then, feeling tired, which is suddenly piled on him with a huge load, he goes to the bedroom to fall into bed and sleep until morning. On the way to the room, he gives the sofa the middle finger, trying not to look in its direction.
The morning begins like any other: with a review of the news summary, thinking about the plan for the day, checking messages from the Boss and coffee. Today, he needs to meet with the Boss and discuss further tasks that Iero will have to perform, so he goes to headquarters.
At the street, as always, he lights a cigarette, frowning around the neighborhood and people scurrying to and fro. Before such meetings, he is always too tense, because he never knows exactly what his next task will be.
The thing is that his work can be both simple and terribly complex, and sometimes even extremely dangerous. And Frank never knows exactly what of those three will it be next.
The last trip to Romania was successful because all that was needed was to establish contacts with the right people, who in the future could become coordinators for expanding The company's influence. He had to visit the local mafia, politicians, and even active fighters for justice.
Recruiting was the easiest task for Iero, and he always did it perfectly. So it was more like a vacation than a real job.
But he doesn't know what the Boss wants this time. And today he is more excited than usual. And the excitement is not joyful, as always before, it's better to say he's worried. He wants to make it as soon as possible.
So he's moving to headquarters. The Museum of Modern Art in New York is one of the most recognizable places in the city. Apparently, the Company was guided by the principle of "hide in a visible place" when it decided to set up its headquarters right under the Museum.
Frank seemed to see this white, oddly shaped building for the thousandth time. At the entrance, as always, he smiles at the guards, who nodded in response and then goes to the service entrance, which leads to a narrow corridor with gray walls.
The sound of the elevator's arrival jerks Frank out of his thoughts and he straightens his jacket and goes inside. A minute's ride in the elevator seems to be an hour long. This is his least favorite moment. Expectation. Frank does not like to wait at all, preferring to speed up the process as much as possible, because time is expensive for him.
He exhales deeply as the elevator doors open and enters the darkroom as always.
This room sometimes seems huge to him, and sometimes quite tiny. The thing is that it only highlights the path that Iero must follow to get to the Office. The light is too bright, so he squints. Everything else outside this path is so dark that trying to see anything is just stupid. Frank's already tried, so he knows for sure.
And now he is almost at the Office, which is essentially a completely transparent room made of glass. Frank needs to sit down at the dark wooden table, which always stands right in the middle. As soon as he does this, he hears:
"You're not even late," a soft female voice sounds like everywhere. It is impossible to say where exactly its source is located. Frank smiles politely and nods in response to the remark.
"I tried," he thinks for a moment, " Very excited about the new assignment."
"Oh, can't wait to get started? Frank, you know that for your zeal and endless dedication, we are ready to honor you endlessly," every word is uttered with special tenderness and condescension, but he still hears the hardness that breaks through literally every syllable and nods again, "We even forgave you for missing him," with these words, Frank clenches his teeth, trying to maintain self-control, "That much does the Company appreciate you. Remember that."
"I'm grateful for that," he says politely, looking at the glass in front of him. He doesn't know where the Boss is, so he patiently looks at his own reflection, trying to make it clear that he wants to get it over with quickly.
"This time my request will be a little strange," she breaks off, waiting for Frank's reaction, but he only frowns, "You will work in a team-" she stops again, knowing that she will hear in response.
Frank takes a deep breath and answers, gritting his teeth: "I won't. Work. With someone –" he spits out every word, trying not to say too much, "I'm working…"
"Alone. Yes, Frank, I know that. But practice has shown that you are more effective when interacting with other people. Plus, the job will be too hard for you alone. So I insist."
Frank knows he can't change her mind, but it's worth a try. Because even the idea of working in a team terrifies him.
"I refuse. You've just reminded me how it ended that time, why are you contradicting yourself? You probably have more work to get done, so think of something else. I'm not going to work with the team," Iero says, crossing his arms stubbornly.
"That case with Mr. Way is exceptional, you know that. Frank, this is extremely important to the Company. There's a lot at stake. You have to take it up."
He shakes his head. This is his last attempt, although he is almost certain that he will have to agree to her terms. Judging by her tone, it's really serious. And Frank is ready if it's really that important.
"Frank, I can't force you. Or rather, I don't want to force you. You're the only one who can do the main thing in this operation," he turns away, biting his lip, weighing the pros and cons, "Frank. Salvation for the sake of people.'
The fleeting threat in her speech makes him take the obvious decision for both of them. Sighing, Iero continues: "People for the sake of salvation. I agree. What should I do?"
"We know that there are some people in Venice who want to reveal us. This is unacceptable because then all our plans will not be able to be fulfilled. And you know what it's going to lead to," he nods, " So you're going to have to go there and solve this problem. You will have our programmers with you to get inside information, also Bert and Brandon to help with the final phase of the operation. As always, the rest of the data is on the disk."
Frank opens the table drawer and picks up the flash drive, tucking it into the inside pocket of his jacket. He also tries to remember who Bert and Brandon are and remembers that he hates both of them.
"Starting today."
"Yes, ma'am. Salvation for the sake of people."
"People for the sake of salvation," the voice fades away with the last word, and Frank gets up to leave the Office.
He goes to the street, and all the way thinks about the upcoming task. Team? He's been forced to work with someone again, and it doesn't seem to end well, given what kind of work they're going to do, and who's on his team. Who is going to rent out the Company? It has a lot of leverage, why can't they settle it easier? Why should he, the most valuable employee of the entire staff, go?
All this seems too strange and frightening. And the excitement is still here. So when he leaves the Museum building, he takes a deep breath.
"Let's work."