Chapter 3
Bob woke up in a gloomy hospital room, immediately annoyed by a constant beeping sound. Beside his bed, there were numerous machines monitoring his health. Ignoring pain and bruises, he tilted his head to side, staring at a large window. He saw the city skyline at night. Mostly skyscrapers.
He mulled over his recent predicament. Of course, he knew who the vigilante was. The news were full of him and his story. Yet how could these murderers have mistaken him for Aiden Pearce?
He sighed, turning away from the window, settling his gaze on the cold white wall opposite it. The van. The vigilante had stolen it. Why didn't it occur to him sooner? He felt weak and his arms ached, but if he had been okay, he would have hit himself in the forehead for his stupidity.
However, it didn't matter at that time. Pearce had apparently used his van for some crazy street vendetta. And the thugs had tracked it to Bob, surmising he had been Pearce. For a spell, he found it hilarious, being detached from the unforgiving reality. Then he remembered the mess he was in and sourness flooded his brain.
Yet there were other mysteries. Startling problems mostly, like who exactly the attackers were and whether they discovered he had survived. Bob was also interested in learning who had saved him. He didn't recall crawling out of the taxi.
The enigmas were piling up, but at least one could be answered straight away. An unknown figure entered the room. He looked at the newcomer immediately, yet the brightness coming from the hallway was blinding him. However, he didn't have to wait for long. The individual switched on the light in there.
Bob's eyes accustomed in a while. He was staring at an ordinary thirtyish man in casual clothes. Not a doctor and not a murderer, though appearances could be deceptive and he was fully aware of that. "The nurse said you were waking up."
"Who are you?" Bob asked, observing the visitor carefully.
"A friend of a friend who hauled your sorry ass out of certain death," he spoke, stopping by Bob's bed.
"What's going on? Who were those people? How did I pull through?"
"Hold on, hold on," the man interrupted Bob's flood of questions. "I'm merely the middle man."
"Who is that friend of yours? Is it Aiden Pearce?"
The man drew breath, as if about to respond. But then he smiled. The remark amused him. "Aiden Pearce? No. Obviously not. The bloke doesn't care for anybody apart from his own."
"So why did you come? What do you want from me?
"Not much. Just cooperation."
"Cooperation? Concerning what?'
"Concerning our business."
"And that is?"
"You'll be notified soon enough," the man said, turning away and heading out.
"Why travelling here if you're not telling?"
The man paused. "We desired to ensure you knew you owe us. So that no... misunderstandings would occur later on. Oh and... don't worry about any hired guns. They've learned they killed the wrong bloke."