The guards seemed less friendly when he returned. Seeing that he had gotten himself a mask, they stepped aside and let him into the club.
Once inside, the man wandered about aimlessly for some minutes. The club was what it had always been; loud, noisy, and full of drunks.
The man was getting uncomfortable with being in the same room with the commoners and breathing the same air with them. He was looking for someone special, someone who would take the special job he had for him. And already, that was proving to be difficult, seeing that everyone had their masks on and the few who didn't did not look like the man he was looking for.
If he was indeed here, the man figured he would prefer not to have his mask on like the rest of the folks here. He was the kind of man who did not like to pay attention to rules. The man prayed silently that he was right about his assumption.
Seconds turned into minutes until his hopes began to fail. He was on the verge of giving up when he saw him, seated alone nursing a Budweiser and talking to himself.
He watched him for a moment, wondering what had befallen him so terrible that it had turned him into a shadow of himself. He rehearsed the words in his mind for the last time, then he journeyed toward him, steeling himself for the August meeting.
The man pulled the nearby stool as he arrived and sat before it. He looked around him, surveying the room for any threat. There was none he could see so far. It was clear for him to continue.
The man allowed himself to relax for a moment, while resting his hand on the raised platform before him. The man whom he had come to see had not yet noticed his presence.
"Hello, Sebastian," He began, calling the other man's attention to himself.
He watched him turn his neck slowly to the side. His eyeballs shifted as he assessed him and the look of recognition registered on his face.
"What do you want?" He asked in a drunken voice.
"To have a conversation with you," The man responded coolly. He'd known already that this meeting was not going to be smooth. The trick was to remain calm through it all.
"I don't want to talk to you," Sebastian responded coldly. "Look around you. There are so many other people to talk with. Go to then and leave me the hell alone."
His eyes burned with hardened determination as he spoke, the kind that was only attainable through years of intense suffering.
"Trust me, Sebastian. When you listen to my proposal and what I have in mind for you once you fulfill it for me, you will be having second thoughts."
Sebastian gazed upward at him, his eyes raving skeptically at his face. This was it, the man thought. With those words, he had just succeeded in getting his attention.
"What do you think I am? A puppet whom you can just come to use whenever you deem fit?" His voice was strong and full of hate.
The man stared blankly at him. For a moment, he felt all the self-control he had mustered for this moment sizzle into the air. Just when he was about to lose his cool, he remembered the goal and forced a genial smile on his face.
"You're not a puppet, Sebastian. And I promise you that this time, the deal is not only in my favor. This deal is something that will not only change my life but yours too. I mean, think about it. Think about a world with only our kind enjoying the beauty of this world alone. Isn't that what you want?"
Sebastian eyed him, an unsettling look on his face. "I know enough about you to know that an offer like this would not come without something in it for you. So, tell me, what is this about?"
The man's lips twisted into a smile. Finally, he'd gotten him on his hook. It was time to pull out the bait.
"I take it that you're in on the deal," He asked seeking confirmation before he continued.
"Yes," Sebastian answered after a moment's pause. "Maybe it's my chance at staying useful for once, so I'll take it."
"Excellent," The man beamed. He turned to face him and lowered his voice into a whisper. "The subject is Vanessa Winthrop."
*****
Detective Robert Hanson had just drowned the last cup of coffee down his throat and his tired eyes were already beginning to object to the stress he was putting them through.
He was sitting in his private quarters where he did most of his job and he was analyzing a report before him. Just outside in the room adjacent to the one he was sitting in, his wife and newborn baby were sleeping peacefully totally oblivious of the dangerous case he was working on.
At forty-five, Detective Hanson was a bland-looking man whose spectacles often gave him the sophisticated look of an academician.
In the previous years, he had worked with the CIA and other agencies where he served as an undercover cop. Things had gone on fine until when things began to go wrong in his unit and he figured that he had to quit the job to save face and be there for his family.
It was a tough decision. But the times were changing and things were no longer the same. By the time Detective Hanson sent in his resignation letter, he already knew what he wanted to do with his life and he had set his mind on it.
Five years down the line and he was doing fine with his new private investigation agency which he operated all by himself. The pay was not exactly what he looked forward to but the euphoria of solving crimes was enough payment for him.
His wife, Sophia could never understand how fulfilling the job was and he had since stopped bothering to try to explain it to her.
Tonight was going to be a long night. He had a week's ultimatum to solve a crime and it was elapsing by dawn. He needed all the concentration he could get to solve the case before the day broke.
Usually, when he worked, he disconnected the service provider from his telephone and kept away all electronic devices away from himself but tonight, somehow, he had forgotten to do that.
He jolted sharply on his seat at the sound of the telephone and soon brought himself to order after he realized what it was. It rang and ended for the first time while he watched, trying desperately not to lose the thoughts in his head.