Face in the Mirror
The young man woke to a new day, a day where the identity that he had always been known by would change. Today he had to play a new role, one that hopefully would bear fruit and bring a certain man to justice. Though the young man's face was known throughout certain circles, he hoped that no one down in Chinatown would recognize him. He had not been down to Chinatown since he was a teenager, searching for something at that time that he later resigned himself to the fact that it would never happen. And yet, words from a wise, old elder that he had not thought of in years sprang to his mind.
"That which the fires destroyed long ago will bring forth and restore what was once lost."
He was sixteen when an ancient looking man who reminded him of someone he once knew spoke those words to him. He tried to get the old man to explain more, but the he merely sat there, drinking his tea. He remembered he laughed at the old man for his cryptic saying. telling him that it reminded him of someone else. He them asked the old man if he was the same person, but the old man remained silent. Then the young man remembered that he had dismissed the old man's prophetic words as fortune cookie nonsense, but the old man just said, "Wait and see. It will happen when you least expect it."
The young man shook his head, trying to dispel the memories. Why at this time were the words of an old man forcing their way into his thoughts? He had a job to do. He could not let old memories interfere. It could be deadly if he did.
The young man took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He entered a meditative state, clearing his mind and letting the voice of the old man fade into nothingness. Satisfied that the words and memories were back where they belonged, the young man stared at his face in the mirror and adjusted his tie one more time. He hated wearing it, but the image that he had to present had to be one of confidence with an air of professionalism. After adjusting his tie, the young man crossed over to the dresser and picked up the silver, pearl handled barretta and checked the clip to make certain it was loaded. He then placed it in the shoulder holster and in one fluid motion the holster became a part of his attire. He crossed the room and picked up the bright blue blazer resting on the bed. This, too, was part of the image.
He then looked at his watch. The meeting of the local businesses should be starting in about half an hour. He would be waiting there, hoping against all hope that the meeting would be rudely interrupted. It would be his ticket to make contact and to hopefully be brought inside. There was just one more thing that he had to do. The young man took out a worm wallet from his back pocket and placed it next to another one that rested by the phone on the nightstand. He opened it up and glanced at the name. At least this time he had been able to keep his first name. The last time he had done this, he nearly got himself killed when he forgot who he was supposed to be. This time, it would be much easier. After placing the wallet in his back pocket, Peter McCabe turned out the light and headed out the door to an uncertain future, one that would bear fruit, and to a fire that would change his destiny forever.
End
