Something He Can't Quite Remember

Author's Note: If this is a bit boring, please bear with me. This is sort of a prologue, and i promise as soon as i can decide which of the six versions of the next chapter to post up here you will get it. It is more exciting.

Okay, so.... Enjoy, i guess.

21/9/12 - Update - So here's your new edited version of the first chapter thingy. Hope you enjoy, comments always appreciated :) Jx

MANHATTAN ISLAND, UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

A man was walking down a street. He wore a light grey, exquisitely tailored suit and a crimson tie, and carried two espresso shots in a Starbucks cup. He was an extremely rich man, contrary to what an onlooker might think, as he was only twenty-six. He was reasonably handsome, with dark blonde hair cut fashionably messily but carefully combed so it lay flat. In his other hand he held a BlackBerry handset, and he was talking to one of his clients in a voice that was calm and authoritative. His name was James Carter.

As he walked into the gleaming skyscraper that housed his company's headquarters, along with a five-star luxury hotel and several enormously expensive apartments, the receptionist on duty rose from her chair, smashing into her glass desk. Her pot plant fell over, but she managed to stammer a 'Good morning, sir," before blushing crimson and diving under the desk to rescue the cactus.

'Morning, Miss Templeton,' he replied, briefly so as not to interrupt his client, as he strode towards one of the many elevators on the other side of the lobby. He made a point to know the names of everyone he came into contact with regularly, as his business spanned four continents and it would probably have been physically impossible for him to know the names of absolutely everyone who worked for him, as he would have liked. He rose the floors to the penthouse, ending the call on the way. When he arrived, his PA, Amanda, rushed towards him and presented him with a black ringbinder which he knew from experience would contain a single sheet of paper fresh from the printer with his day's schedule on it.

'Print the agenda for the meeting with Freedom Industries would you, Amanda? I have a conference call I must attend to immediately,' James announced. Amanda opened her mouth to protest at this change to the order, but he silenced her. 'No buts. This is important. I must speak to Mr Kane.'

Kane was James' biggest client. He was one of the most terrifying men James had ever met, and he had met a lot of very scary men. It wasn't that he was physically imposing, which he was, nor was it that he was almost unbelievably wealthy and probably owned a large proportion of shares in every commercially successful business on the planet, though he was, and probably did. It wasn't even that James suspected that Kane wouldn't hesitate to 'remove' anyone that threatened him. The man was smart as a whip and utterly merciless. But what scared James most about him was that he looked at James and laughed at the little boy playing office, but sometimes, when he thought James wasn't looking, Kane was wary of him. And when a man that powerful was scared of you for no reason, it would put anyone on edge.

At twenty-three minutes past seven, as per usual, James' phone rang. He picked it up, and was met with a grey voice that simply stated: 'Mr Kane will speak to you now.'

And so James had to call Mr Kane, and discuss the shipment of newly developed armaments that Kane required. James wasn't sure what he wanted it for, and he wasn't going to ask. James was a technical genius, many of the weapons he had designed himself and he knew how lethal they could be.

Twelve minutes later, at seven thirty-five exactly, Mr Kane hung up, and James leant back in his chair, his heart racing. He always found their conversations rather too much of an ordeal, and was glad Mr Kane did not wish to speak to him often.

To relax, James decided to try and deal with some slightly less intimidating customers. He opened an email and scanned it briefly. He sighed. This particular client was hoping for a little too much.... They should have realized James dealt in tens of thousands, and millions where the product was complicated. It wasn't easy to maintain a company that had made it to Fortune 500 in less than a year, and even harder when you were under thirty. You weren't taken seriously. He formulated a brief reply, clearly stating his intentions, and pressed the send button. Then he stood and walked to the window. He gazed over the Manhattan skyline, thinking about the night before. He'd ordered pizza and sat in front of the tv watching some action movie, before going to bed with a report to read. He hadn't fallen asleep till three, giving him a meagre three and a half hours sleep. But he wasn't tired. He was never tired, unless he was jet-lagged or had gone several days without sleep. It was the undeniable boredom that got to him. But he would cope, and do it so excellently that no-one would call it coping. They would call it unbelievable.

'Excuse me, sir,' Amanda said in her awful fluttery voice, sticking her blonde head round his office door. 'Terribly sorry to disturb you, but there is a lady who has come to see you. She had no appointment, but insists she speak to you on a matter of urgency.'

'Of course its a matter of urgency,' James said, his voice so emotionless an intelligent person would have detected that it was extremely patronising. Amanda was not an intelligent person. 'Tell her I can speak to her some other time. She can make an appointment for, say, tomorrow morning about ten... I'll speak to her then.'

'Yes, Mr Carter, sir,' she replied, nodding slightly and backing out of the room. James went back to his desk, but not for very long. Noises were coming from outside his office. Voices. Two voices utterly familiar, one obviously his PA's, and the other was hers. His heart started beating a little bit faster.

'Amanda (you don't mind if I call you Amanda, do you? It's so much friendlier) you see, I simply must see him. And it must be now.' James smiled slightly at the patronizing tone in her first sentence, then frowned at the obvious authority in the second. Then, for the first time he could remember, he made a completely spontaneous decision.

He left Amanda standing slightly dazed by the lift doors, watching the display as it sank seventy-five floors to ground level. Mr Carter never left his office during his day. Not from 8am to seven in the evening. If he wanted coffee, he sent her to send an under-secretary to fetch it. If he was entertaining clients, he would call in a chef, and they would eat in his private dining room looking out over the Manhattan skyline. Then, suddenly, out of the blue, he had left the office with an admittedly beautiful woman, who really had no reason to hold his interest other than an ambiguous "matter of urgency". Amanda was a gossip, and though this would undoubtedly cause a great stir during the next coffee break, she knew as well as any of her species that no one would remain interested in this latest office scandal if they were not spoon-fed it's development.

So who was Hero Pierce?