Silver Masks

Adelaide

---

Though when I looked back into his eyes, ready to turn away and retire to my chair, his gaze held me captive for a fleeting moment.

His eyes told me something that he didn't need to say aloud for me to understand.

This isn't over.

---

No matter how much my body ached for rest, it never came, leaving me agitated and impatient in the morning.

Translation, I wasn't in the mood to deal with other people's bullshit.

Unfortunately for me it didn't matter what I wanted to do, it's what I needed to do.

With a heavy heart and a cup full of coffee stronger than a bodybuilder, I let myself be dragged by Malcolm from the kitchen and into a secluded room.

Instead of sitting down, I leaned casually against the walls being careful not to alert the sniper of what was in the pocket of my baggy cargo trousers.

The silence settled in the room and neither of us dared break it, me staring at my coffee and Malcolm staring at his hands.

A few more moments of silence passed before Malcolm finally had the guts to break it.

"Why'd you do it?"

He slowly lifted his up and look at me from where he was sitting, his body tense. When his eyes met mine, I had to smother a smile.

It seemed like he was afraid of little old me.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

His jaw clenched at my veiled answer.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about."

I took a sip from my mug and rested my head against the wall keeping my eyes trained on his face.

"I'm afraid I don't, could you be more specific?"

If it was even possible, his jaw clenched further and his fingers turned white from the pressure he was exerting on them.

Inside, I was jubilant that I managed to get under the skin of a man who had so effortlessly riled me up only a few days ago.

Power is a thrilling thing to have.

"I-," he sighed and raked his hands through his hair and huffed in frustration.

I let a small smile pass through my poker face at his discomfort. It was time to play him.

"Well, Malcolm, I have a question for you too."

He lay his hands on his knees again and looked at me expectantly.

I took another sip of my coffee.

"Was it you that shot the first twin?"

He seemed confused at my question at first, his eyebrows furrowing before he quickly covered it up with a stoic expression.

His eyes scanned my face, processing not only my words but my body language.

Smart man.

"Yes."

My right eyebrow quirked up in surprise and he took it as permission to recount his steps.

"Well, I thought that the time you had given me would be too predictable so I took the liberty to change the time I shot the shot."

A grin grew on his face as he spun his story.

"I left the other one for you to kill obviously."

"That's very considerate of you, Malcolm."

I did a once over of his body language again, taking in everything. He had completely relaxed into the seat, his legs once crossed were now open, his hand that were clenched so tightly earlier were now in mid air as he recounted his story.

"How many bullets were in the gun, Malcolm?"

His eyes flickered for a moment.

"Two."

I nodded in agreement, there were in fact two bullets in the gun.

It was time.

"A question, Malcolm," I slid my hand into my pocket, fingering the item that was concealed there, "if there were two bullets in the gun when you started, after you had shot the man how many bullets would be left?"

He hesitated for a moment.

"There would be one left."

I slowly nodded in agreement.

"Correct."

I brought my hand out of my pocket, the items positioned in between my fingers. I pushed off of the wall and sat daintily in the plush seat across from him.

His face paled as he saw what was in between my fingers.

Two bullets.

"So pray tell Malcolm, why did I find two?"

His mouth was slightly ajar and his face drained of it's usual colour.

I simply placed the two bullets in the middle of the coffee table, leaned back, crossed my legs and took a large sip from my mug.

"Lost for words, Malcolm?"

When his eyes met mine, they weren't scared, frustrated or confident, no, they were determined.

"Why'd you lie?"

I looked at him from over the top of my mug.

"I didn't lie, Malcolm, I asked a question. You were the one that lied."

"Not me, why'd you lie to the others?"

A smile formed on my face.

"Isn't it obvious?"

His nostrils flared as I took a dig at his ego again.

"No."

I leaned forward and placed the mug on the table between us, wanting to savour the feeling of being completely and unobtrusively in control.

Maybe I was enjoying this too much.

"It's simple really, you have something that I want."

His eyebrows quirked up.

"And what's that?"

"Information."

His face slowly lit up, a malicious grin slowly blooming.

"Of course."

A silence settled over us again as we both calculated the pros and cons of the arrangement.

Knowledge is power and I knew that all too well, whether he would step into the trap that I had set for him was a different story.

"What do you want to know?"

I smiled slyly, he had stepped into the trap.

"I have two things I need to know, you will answer my questions and then you can ask me yours."

He opened his mouth to protest but I shot him a glare that could freeze the sun and he got the message, closing his mouth and leaning backwards.

"My first question - who paid you?"

He chuckled lightly, his tongue resting on the bottom of the top row of his teeth and his read rolling back slightly.

"You get to the point don't you?"

"I don't care for subtlety."

He cleared his throat and though on my question for a moment.

"The truth is, I don't know. I was offered a large amount of money to not let a bullet fly into the twins heads and so I didn't. They wanted me to cut all ties with your little group but that would mean missing out on Romano's payment and I couldn't have that, could I?"

He laughed lightly at a joke only he could understand.

"So here I am with two different incomes coming my way and you, with the power to halt one of them." He finished, his eyes gleaming.

I kept my gaze steady as I continued to prod him.

"So you went up to the gun, completely aware that you would have to return to Romano's mansion and you didn't even care to take the bullets out? You're an idiot." I spat at him, hoping to aggravate him as much as possible.

"I'm not an idiot." He stated, his eyes flashing with anger.

I suppressed my smile as he fell into another one of my traps, all I had to do now was add the finishing touches.

The best way to get to an American was to insult their country.

"You Americans are all the same, you can't see past your bellies to see that your actions have consequences." I sneered, lightly scoffing.

His body tensed and I could tell that I had hit a nerve.

"I am not stupid and neither is my country! I left it there because I was assured that you would be escorted out!" He exclaimed, trying to protect the honour of not only himself but also his country.

Silly man, I thought, don't you know better than to have a weakness?

"I see."

I let us sit in silence and watched as his face changed, evidently realizing what I had done. He started laughing, clutching his stomach and I didn't stop him.

He was sure I was going to be escorted out? Was it by the man in the silver mask? If it was, why wouldn't he stop me from retrieving the gun. Unless...

When his laughed had died down, I spoke.

"My second question- who fired the shot?"

A grin that spread from ear to ear on his face took me by surprise even though I didn't express it.

He was a different breed of assassin.

Were all those un contracted like this?

"I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"I - don't - know."

I narrowed my eyes at him, I knew he knew and I wasn't about to let this information slip from my fingers.

"You were at the gun when all this happened, I know you know."

His face twitched a little and it seemed as if he was contemplating telling me, not that he had a choice anyways. If he didn't tell me outright, I would have to revert to more... torturous methods.

He sighed a heavy sigh and looked me dead in the eye before he spoke.

"I don't know who the man was, he was wearing a mask. I can only give you a description. He was tall, well built and had a head of dark hair."

A man.

It couldn't be.

"What was the colour of the mask, Malcolm?"

A beat passed between us before he spoke, clear as a summers day.

"Silver."

---