Smith's eyes slowly opened to the sound of his alarm blaring in his ear. He raised his hand to turn it off and then sat up, yawning. He stretched his back and did some hand exercises before getting out of bed.
He walked over to his wardrobe and pulled out a white singlet and a pair of shorts. He put them on and then slipped on a pair of exercise sneakers. Adding a cap and an arm trimmer with a pocket for his phone, he checked himself out in the mirror.
Looking satisfied, he exited his apartment and started jogging. He ran out of the estate and down the road, using the pedestrian lane. The sun was shining brightly, and the air was crisp and clean. Smith felt alive as he pounded the pavement.
After a while, he stopped and started walking slowly. As he walked, sweat dripped from his forehead down to his muscular body. His singlet was already soaked in sweat, and he felt his throat getting dry.
Just then, a black Mercedes Benz G-class pulled up beside him. The tinted glass window went down, revealing Steven, who was wearing a well-ironed Tuxedo Grain De Poudre suit, a pair of sunglasses, a Panama hat, and a pair of Oxford shoes to match.
Steven's face broke into a wide, cheerful smile. "Need a ride?" he asked, his voice smooth as silk. He winked at Smith, his left eyebrow twitching upwards.
Smith's expression remained neutral, his face a mask of calmness. "What do you want, Steven?" he asked, his voice cold as he unlid his can of water and took a long gulp.
Steven's smile never wavered. "Always straight to the point, Smith. I like that about you. Hop in " He chuckled to himself.
Smith walked around the car and got in. Steven was a chubby man with a mass of curly hair combed over a fade, which brought out his oval face.
Steven's eyes sparkled, as he turned to face Smith. "Fifteen years and you haven't changed a bit, you've even levelled up...seeing how macho you're..." He ticked with his mouth.
"I'm not here for a get-together," Smith cut him off, his eyes narrowing slightly, Steven frown.
"We have a job for you," Steven said, his voice low and mysterious. "It's a simple task, but it requires your... particular set of skills." He leaned in, a sly grin spreading across his face.
Smith raised an eyebrow, his face still expressionless. "What kind of job?"
Steven's smack "Let's just say it's a job that requires your unique talents. And it pays very well." He rubbed his hands together as he picked files on the deck of the car and handed them over to Smith.
Smith's eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze piercing through the files as he flipped the pages.
Steven leaned in, a conspiratorial whisper escaping his lips. " it's a seven-figure sum pay. And that's just the beginning." He winked at Smith, his left eyebrow twitching upwards.
"It's been fifteen years. I thought you would have grown a brain there", Smith said as he used his finger to tap on his skull repeatedly.
"I guess I'm a creature of habit" Steven hissed and cleared his throat; he adjusted himself and turned back to Smith with a frown.
"You will be going undercover as an archaeologist for two years, Smith. There's an excavation site that's been placed on hold since the 90s. With firm confirmation, they'll be reopening the investigation on the site. Read the contents properly; it will guide you. 350 million will be deposited into your account for the start, and the balance will be paid when the mission is done. Don't screw things up, and we'll give you all the necessary feedback. By the way, All your crime files have been erased from the list of criminals' terror census... so it's a new start."
Smith raised an eyebrow, his gaze piercing. "New start? Well, you're about to get it ruined again."
Smith stepped out of the car, his eyes locked onto Steven's. " Oh before I forget, It's 'resume research,' not 'reopening the investigation.' It's not some case you're digging into."
Steven's face turned bright red with embarrassment. "What, am I that bad?" he asked, his voice defensive.
Smith chuckled, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Sorry, I'm a creature of habit."
With that, Smith turned and jogged away, leaving Steven to stew in his embarrassment.
Steven's voice echoed behind him, his tone disgusted. "Does he have to make me feel embarrassed every time we meet? 'I'm a creature of habit, he mimick'... that's my word!"
'My Name is Smith Charles, I am a single hot-headed guy. I grew up without a family. Being alone all my life makes me feel like am not living..like a living corpse. '
'To survive and feel like I am living, I engage myself in illegal fun activities. Like being a night courier, drug smuggler, and stuntman. There was a time when I teamed up with terrorists terrorizing places, but that didn't end well. We were caught in the act and I was the only survivor.'
'I went to jail, and there was Steven, who conned his way through the judgments and reduced the charges to 15 years of hard labour. In exchange, I made a promise to help them out one more time on any mission after being out, but it wasn't for free. I get paid for every damn mission.'
'It's been 15 years now since I came out of jail all I do is eat, sleep, and out all day. There's no need to work 'cause I've made a lot of money.' Smith got home, took his shower, and prepared breakfast. After eating he went out to the basketball court.
'The government confiscates all of my property but not exactly all. I knew a day like that was so near so I sold a few of my properties and got all the Money transfer into a secret bank account in Singapore.'
'It was difficult to find the hidden account, so the government just confiscated what they had in hand. All this went smoothly with the help of Steven that nut job!'
After playing basketball alone on the court for a while, Smith took a break. The rain started drizzling; exhausted Smith sat down on the floor, catching his breath. Momentarily, the drizzling rain became a heavy downpour, lying down and spreading his arms and legs widely.)
'The only thing I wish for is to feel like a living; you see, I don't have a normal life like everyone else. No friends, no loved ones, and no family.'