Knock! Knock!
Knock! Knock!
A series of impatient knocks came on the door of an apartment.
However, the noise from the television inside the house did not allow that to be heard.
Hearing the noise from the television, it pushed the men to keep knocking.
If the television was turned on, then someone was home.
Knock! Knock!
Knock! Knock!
"Goodness gracious! I... am... coming!" an old voice shouted out of annoyance.
They finally heard the voice of a person inside and it was not, at all, friendly.
With extra minutes of delay added, the door finally opened up to these guests.
An elderly woman waddled her wizened self out of the room with her cane that she used for support and walking, but considering how often and how terrible her hands trembled, the walking stick won't be doing much for her long term.
She lifted her head to see the men who stood in front of her home, taking nearly a minute or so to do that.
Her skellied eyes peered harder than anything to get a clearer view of the people before her.
She saw something in front of her, two black figures that were blurred and tripled into six figures.
She could not tell if they were human beings or statues but statues didn't knock.
She opened her toothless, shrivelled mouth and lashed out at them.
"What the hell do ya want, eh? Disturbing an old lady's sleep, eh? How rude of ya lots!"
"Tch!" one of the men scoffed.
They were two of them, dressed in black fitted suits with shades and grim expressions on their faces.
These men could easily pass for bodyguards or security escorts anywhere but here they were, in front of an old lady's doorstep, staring and enduring her senility.
"H-How long… how long a-are w-we go-g-going to w-w-wa-watch this?"
This particular man out of the two men was irked.
He was dark-skinned but another attribute stood him out, especially to people like the old woman whose sight was no good.
He was also a stutterer and quick to anger.
His blood boiled as he stood and listened to the old lady's incessant whining.
He moved forward and just then, an arm crossed in front of him.
"Huh?" he muttered, his eyes shooting to his side.
It was his partner on the job that had stopped him from making a brash move.
Unlike the dark Stutter, this one was more fluent in speech with a long scar over the edge of his lips, on the left side, that reached to the mid-cheek region on the same side.
He seemed to have a kinder heart or a better way to put it… a more enduring personality.
However, he looked the same as his stammering partner in the dressing aspect.
Scarface had stopped Stutter from proceeding with whatever intentions he had in mind.
Whatever his partner intended to do, Scarface already knew from experience that it was not going to turn out in their favour.
He reached for the jetted pocket inside his jacket, took out three photographs and showed her.
"Good evening, madam. Forgive my friend here but we need your help, if you don't mind."
The old lady had grown impatient and repulsive.
She lifted her cane to flog the both of them but her strength failed her.
Scarface blocked the cane with almost no effort at all as he shook his head.
He turned to Stutter with a crestfallen face.
"I guess she's no good either."
"I to-told y-y-you."
"Let's go."
They left, climbing down a flight of stairs.
Scarface and Stutter had run out of ideas and places to search.
Where else could they search?
How were they going to find their targets now?
It seemed as though Damon and Nate did not want to be found.
That assumption would have been valid if Damon and Nate were expecting them and intentionally hid themselves away, but that was not the case.
They simply could not find the Vance siblings anywhere in their supposed neighbourhood.
Did the siblings already know they were coming and fled?
How is that even possible?
That would be impossible.