Husk & mask

Chapter 10

Devereux

What could possibly be a blockage to the smooth flow of this day casted with a silky sky morning driven by moisty wind from the lake, some tittle drops of hoar frost from the ceiling, King fishers flying above the shores and a nice sip of chamomile tea.

The ceramic cup's surface hit the table, strongly, getting free from the sticky paws. The same paws went on to pick a phone. Nice cute paws. Didn't stuck their prints on something unholy. I wish that was true.

I'm sure all guts with their sizes and grumbles, sort of rumbles the nerves, twitch them a bit, after an important call haven't been answered for about five times now. Lots of anxiety filling in.

He stretched his right arm up the wooden door frame, freeing his humpy gulp inside of him and took another dial. It was a slow hard burn to the chest when he listened to the ringback tone. He held the phone to his left ear, impatiently, gathering what could convince his boss.

Finally, he made a quick hello before the receiver could even finish.

"I'm insisting sir! If we do not take care of this now, it will be a crane on our intel." his voice showered out of his mouth with intense persuasion.

He waited for his boss' opinion, but he remained quiet as he was so distant.

"You might be thinking..." he couldn't finish as he was shushed.

"I don't get it!" The boss uttered and held it, half a split, then continued. "There is no prey here which you go around hunting and spreading your dirty hands. How about you do this? Find him, make sure he lives and retrieve the damn person straight to Devereux."

"But Randall?"

"I think you have to call me Mr Griffiths, not Randall. I'm your boss!"

"Sir!!"

"Just do as I say buddy," Randall said.

Mark stood there, motionless, holding his sigh, disbelieving the hang up and taking it hard to handle the General's simple request. Of course it wasn't simple. He exhausted his mind, that short time all in to find his ways of making his raft stay in shape. What was his worry, anyway? Let's see!

At the ground, he stared, looking at the phone he broke. It wasn't the frustration which drove him this way. He was just taking care of business. The next thing, he pulled another one, a small one with buttons. He pressed a few buttons and dialled.

"C32 cord 542, Renneth!"

"Yes how can I help you," said a lady with a shallow voice.

"I would like to speak to your boss," Mark said.

"He's by the he swimming pool, he can't reach up," said the lady.

"Tell him it's Mark!"

He waited, impatiently, knowing that he was in need of the kind of a guy he just called. He didn't like him at all. It all came from the day he was almost killed by his men. It was all a misunderstanding. Its not really a big deal, so I'm not going to jump into details.

Water spreaded sideways as Gavin, a firm man, brown skinned and mascular, made his way to the the lounge, not worrying that the water was dripping down on the floor. He was all sexy and style.

He went on to grab the phone with his wet hands and said, calmly, "Hey Ted, buddy."

"I need four men!"

"Straight to the point, I like that." he spoke, chortling. "The answer is no!" he said reluctantly.

Mark felt tantalised, almost on the verge of hanging up, but he stopped when he heard him speaking.

He said, "For old time sake, I'm going to give you two. Just two; they don't disappoint."

"Good 11.30am." He gulped a bulb of air and said, again, "But you're the one who sent four mercenaries to end my life."

"And you did what? Huh!"

"It was just a single heist I've exposed."

"Whatever you say! Anyways, I'm just curious. What's the deal with all this!" asked Gavin.

Mark finally hung up. That was a sharp one. His heart finally came to settle. He frictioned his Jaws together, pressed his wrist to the forehead and clenched his fist. All that to think his way through.

He rushed back inside, not thinking twice of what he was about to do. He moved past two doors in the passage. The one on the left with a secured knob, tightly fitted was where he headed. He sunk the key in, opened it and found himself at the black trunk. He forced the rusty key in and the screech came out as he pulled it open.

He grabbed the guns and explosives, put them in his arm bag and headed back.

“I always wondered why they do all that! Intriguing, isn't it?" I deep voice echoed from his back. Surprisingly, it was of a lady.

He shook a little.

She was a charming lady in her decency. You could see all that from the way she dressed up, seated in Mark's couch, rolled her legs over each other and put out that flaunty grin on her face. I don't know if her graspy tone added to what made Mark feel obscured from reality.  She was all that much of an influence. "You did put a bird further in these fluffy babies. I get it now. Even why you host your show here."

"Why are you here?" Mark asked furiously.

"I like the sound of that!" she said, grinning intensely. "Frightening! I guess you are getting some of that from your alligators."

"Say it, Magath. What is it?"

"Nothing... Just wanted to make sure if everything is going smoothly, since I can't risk getting us exposed." she breathed. "I don't think Dhalom is taking care of it, properly."

"If we kill..." he stopped.

"Look, babysitting porcupines is not my thing. I just want business to be taken care of," she said standing up, moving towards Mark. "I don't want us to be exposed sweetheart. That's all."

She slowly kissed his chick and placed her hand on his shoulder. She whispered good luck.

"You know, I will be going against the agancy right. I can't come back from that."

"We talked about this. Remember I also sacrificed my marriage for this business," she said extruding that empathising degree on him.

I can see your sorry faces wanting to know about the marriage. Well, she was once married to Randal. It ended when he discoveredshe was workingfor Dhalom. Yes, Dhalom also said goodbye to her. It was heartbreaking.

Finally, she got her spot.