CS: Dead (Cont IV)
Half an hour past as the limo made its way through the heavy traffic at the end of the day and then through the ritzy area of the city, heading towards a large, stone walled building with beautifully polished gates. A large silver ‘C’ glinted in the dying light as the limo pulled up to the gates and the driver identified the passengers to the gate guards. Throughout all this, the man stared straight forward, his head not moving an inch, his expression never changing.
The limousine wound its way up the dirt driveway, through the lush yards and into the beautiful, and very clean, garage. All exitted the vehicle, Max last. He emerged and began to observe his surroundings, removing his sunglasses to get a better feel of the light. Reno walked up next to him, “Welcome to the Cappolla family.” For a second the man observed his surroundings, then walked off towards the house, picking up his suitcase which was set next to the car. The bodyguards drew up on either side of Reno as they watched him ascend the stairs methodically, as if he was counting paces from one point to the next.
“Who the hell is this guy, Reno?”
Reno watched with the air of knowledge. All the time in the car he had been pouring over who the man was, what he was, why it was that he had been called here. He already had guessed the final answer, but the remaining answers seemed to have eluded him, until now. As foolish as Reno was, he was not an idiot. His intelligence was superior to most men, for he had gone all the way through college and worked hard to get the beautiful grades that had made him the envy of many a Cappolla. He knew the way the world worked and he had been around his father long enough to hear stories about Sylvestro, the head of the Gambinis. He knew the connections the man had were incredible, winding all the way through every little branch of the government. The man had a finger in everything, if not a full iron fist. And now Reno knew it was true.
“Reno?”
He was brought back from his thoughts by the more curious of the two bodyguards, the three still watching Max as he moved into the house. “He’s dead,” Reno finally said.
“What, boss?”
“He’s a dead cell. Top secret stuff. You rise up high enough in the army, make it into intelligence, show a natural disposition towards killing, emotionless, methodical killing, and you know what happens? You get erased. You get classified. You become a shadow. Your name is nothing more than the one remaining thing that they have to put on your tombstone. You become a splinter cell, or an assassin, or a freedom fighter. Your ties are cut from the government, but at the same time they run far deeper than you can possibly imagine. You’ve got circles of men watching your every move and preparing for that one moment when you try to snap or you break away and then they’re on you, wiping you off the planet faster than man can blink. One day, you go on a mission and you snap. You get it all done, but its messy, innocents dead, too many dead, too close to the media. Something goes wrong and the agency, if they’re nice, cut you off. You’re still watched….every second of your life is monitored and videotaped, but you no longer have a purpose. You’re dead. You merge right back into society and know that you let a single thing slip and you get wiped away like a smudge on the window of life. That’s what he is. He’s a dead cell.”
“Why’s he here?”
“That’s Tony and Sylvestro’s business. Not ours.”
The group watched as the man glanced down at them for a few seconds, just watching them for a moment, then turning and disappearing into the house escorted by two of Tony’s bodyguards.
Reno smirked. If his hunches were true, then life was about to get interesting.
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