Michael Trenton sat importantly behind a big desk engrossed in a novel. He flipped a page as his accomplice-cum-mistress, Clare, walked in, "What's so interesting about that book? You've been reading it for the past few days."
"The book gives us fascinating insights into life in Mexico."
"The writer clearly intends his readers to identify with the main character."
"Yes. This article contains some useful info-graphics. The first part of his of his plan was to ingratiate himself with the members of the committee. In the first act, the villain insinuates himself into the household of the man he intends to kill."
"Assassins must always have someone on the onside helping them."
"Our economy is an inflationary spiral of wage and price increases. At this moment we cannot afford hiring more assassins to infiltrate our enemies and..." Trenton's speech was cut short by the ringing of his phone. Since it was his private number, this had to be someone very important. He let it ring for a while then picked it up on the third ring. The person on the other end offered a meticulous explanation and once he was done, Trenton dumped his phone in his pocket and walked to the refrigerator to get a glass of water.
The cold water invigorated him and his face irradiated with joy. He turned to face Clare, "Morgan did it." And they both laughed incredulously. Trenton felt an illusory sense of freedom as one of his sworn adversaries was lying on a hospital bed somewhere or perhaps in a morgue awaiting burial. He could not wait to see Jackson's family crying their hearts out to him thinking he was on their side.
"Poor Victoria and Sophie," Clare thought aloud, "If they dare to step on my path or cross my line, they're next."
As soon as Clare concluded, his phone rang again. He picked it up instantly when he realized it was Victoria. He said after a while, "I'm on my way." He had to gain their full trust if he was to accomplish his mission and destroy them. He dabbed a little perfume behind his ears and grabbed his car keys from the cabinet as he went out. He glanced at his watch and startled the engine of his red Porsche. He had purchased the car on one of his visits to the United Arab Emirates. It was way past midnight.
The thought of his family flashed through his mind. Abby, his wife and their two daughters, Linda and Kate, stayed in England in a two-billion dollar mansion, which kept them off his track. They hadn't the slightest idea about Trenton's illegal dealings as long as he provided for the family. The last time he had visited them was more than six months past. He had come back with his son, Evans, who would take over his empire. His only thought was to keep his teenage boy from harm and give him a solid future. Trenton was unable to keep back his tears when he reminisced about the happy times he had spent with his family. He had no choice but to continue keeping them in the dark.
Although it pained him deeply to disintegrate other families, he also wanted the best for his own family by giving them everything they wanted. Trenton was aware that his fortieth day was in the offing yet he had planned to make the most out of his remaining fifteen days or so. He was in too deep already and backing out at this point would mean his immediate downfall. He drove into the hospital's compound after stopping by at a nearby hotel to pick a meal for them and take a moderate dose of ketamine.
Sophie spotted Trenton's Porsche through the transparent glass doors as it jolted to a halt. Trenton stepped out with a shopping bag in one hand and a carrier bag in the other. Sophie made a kamikaze run across the hall towards him. Before she could utter a word, he handed her a tin of lamington and they walked back to where her mother was. They exchanged pleasantries and Victoria's face lightened up.
He showed them back to their seats and offered them a tin of kofta and a tub of chicken korma. The meal finished with a punnet of koek sisters, plaits of deep fried dough dipped in syrup. From Trenton's openhearted generosity, Sophie could tell that he had a laissez-faire approach to bringing up their children. Trenton decided to break the ice, "What did the doctors say?"
"He had to undergo a blood transfusion as a last-ditch attempt to save him," Victoria replied, and allowed the tears to soak her blouse.
"But I'm sure there's nothing much to worry about. He is going to get better. You need to get some rest so you can take care of him."
"Thank you so much for all this. We'll pay you for all the trouble you've taken."
"Do not mention it. It is the least I could do to help. Allow me to take my leave. I have to get to work early."
Both Sophie and Victoria nodded and waved him goodbye until he was completely out of sight. Sophie stood up and went to her father's bedside. A delicious languor was stealing over her but she had to stay strong for him. The rain lashed at the windows washing away the dead leaves of autumn. Jackson looked very ill- his life force seemed to have drained away. He had been put on a life-support machine, with a bullet lodged in his chest. Violent crime was only one of the maladies afflicting modern society. Her father had received a verdict of death by misadventure. Sophie found herself dozing off at her father's bedside.