Bounty Hunter [REWRITTEN VERSION]

Chapter 48: Change of Plans

Z

This had not been planned.

His lone figure stood like an outpost against the dark shadows. It was nightfall. He had arrived in the country not a few hours prior to his current ordealment, and already he found himself being summoned by some disruptive predicament. He wasn't a man that accepted to being called forth by those that worked beneath him, only considering the individual themselves who had contacted him, did he decide to appeal to their wishes. He was there, wasn't he.

And left waiting.

In a slow circle, he turned, surveying the building in which he stood. An old construction warehouse from the looks of it, long since abandoned and left in useless shambles. Dark, grimy, faded. Not plausible by any means, but then he reminded himself, he had seen worse things. Besides, it wasn't his choice, nor had it been. He had not called such an out of the blue meeting. But still, he worried for what it might mean. He didn't need a disruption now, of all times, things had been running so smoothly...

His thoughts were pulled away from him. Pale eyes flashed and his expression became expressionless as he halted his movement and stilled to regard the new form stepping out from the shadows a few meters away, and they were dragging something—someone—behind them.

They are not alone...

He watched without expression as the first figure dragged the other in front, almost as if presenting it to him—the figure; bound with an improvised cloth gag over their mouth, hands locked behind their back and still in the hold of the grinning other. Dried blood also caked the side of their head, dribbling faintly from the nasty and clearly recently made gash across their temple, the wobbly movements and slackened appearance suggested the individual had suffered from more than just a substantial head injury. They appeared dazed, their gaze slightly out of focus, but once their eyes met his own and then flashed quickly again to the other holding them, the look of pure anger and betrayal almost made him smile.

That was a look he recognized well, a feeling he knew and remembered nearly every day, the thing both holding him captive and forcing him forward all the same. It was the reason he, and they, were here.

Or not 'here' supposedly, none of them had been expected to be here at all. This meeting, as curious and particular as it was, had not been a part of his agenda, neither today nor in the near future.

He said nothing, merely watched as his associate finally shoved the other body down to the floor, letting them fall forward with nothing to break their descent while their hands remained enclosed in makeshift bands. A groan of pain, and ragged breathing muffled through the gag was the only sound for several moments.

His associate did not even bat an eyelash down at their former comrade, didn't look down to show any sign of acknowledgement. But the action, or lack of, was not done under any pretenses of guilt or remorse, that much was clear from the ever prominent grin pulled across their face. Callous eyes were focused solely on him.

He glanced meaninglessly on the crumpled form of the agent he had known as one of the fellow targets he sought after in this twisted game he was playing, but his eyes did not show the slightest bit of triumph over their capture. Slowly, his gaze raised up to his associate.

"This was not a part of the plan."

His voice, though calm, cut through the room like a lethal blade.

His associate stilled, seeming to detect the hint of endangerment in his tone, but then they hid whatever hesitancy around them they may have held with a cool lax of the shoulders. They returned a look up at him with an ever-persistent and fearless grin in the face of ensuring his potential wrath. "It was an accident, I hope you're aware. That little stunt you pulled, sending the guys in there like that to attack, caught even me off guard."

"I brought you in because I was under the impression that adapting to the unexpected was supposed to be your area of expertise," he stated coldly, not willing to accept excuses.

The figure lost their smile at the remark but their bravado never faltered. "Well, a note of warning would have been nice. Otherwise, I might not have slipped so easily and this little unplanned casualty wouldn't have had to happen," they countered respectively as they threw a motioning gesture to the form on the ground, who had since lost consciousness and was not aware of what was going on any longer.

"This was not the plan," he said again, fighting to keep his expression from hinting at the sudden rise in agitation and frustration that wrenched within him at this new development.

His associate was wrong. He had not ordered the hit on their targets, in fact, he hadn't been informed that any of his subordinates had travelled to the country, before he did no less.

But then again, he was not in full control now was he? Not yet at least.

"Relax," his associate said to him, unknowing of his internal contemplations. "I know the game you're playing. All this will do is speed things up a bit."

"That is not what I wanted," he seethed lowly.

"Plans change."

Biting the urge within him to release a fraction of his fury, he reminded himself that losing his composure now would not help him.

What was done was done.

He would do what he always did; formulate around the problem. Find a way to work it to his advantage.