Some New Assignments

. . .

"We're all murderers. Somehow, along the way, we had to kill a part of ourselves… to survive."

"That can't be true!"

Zeirenne was brought back to reality. She darted her attention to Luisito who had his face red from anger.

"You're giving us a job? After what we've done? You're not fooling anyone!"

Anyone could tell from his expressions how eruptive he could get in a matter of seconds. But to Zeirenne, he didn't look angry at all. Instead, he looked troubled. With a pinch of guilt, and a spoonful of doubt visible in his eyes.

"There's no way someone would be dumb enough to employ rug-rats inside her company. This has to be a trap." Crowed a doubtful voice inside his head.

"And why can't that be true, Mr. Taberdo?" Zeirenne said, "I already went here knowing full-well making someone else do it would not convince you enough. So yeah, since I'm already here, there's no way I'm getting my offer rejected."

She extended her arms to Dylan, and he latched a white briefcase in her hand.

"I came here prepared. Mind inviting me to your shed?"

"How many times do I have to tell you? We're not gonna—"

With a single tap, a recording started playing from her phone's speaker.

[Did you hear that? Give us what we want and be sure you won't get the police involved or else…]

Then came a clacking sound. Obviously the sound of cocking a gun.

"Oh my, you made quite a blunder. You didn't reattach the voice changer back after removing it for me," Zeirenne smirked, "Everyone who knows you can vouch this is your voice, Mr. Taberdo."

As everyone's expression screamed horror, Zeirenne beamed with a bright, bright smile.

"Mind inviting me to your shed now?"

At once, all the men on their knees jolted up. Their boss could get stubborn sometimes, and with only his voice captured on the call, they knew how things would end up if they don't cooperate with Zhi Lin. They were more than sure Luisito would take all the blame to spare all of them. They had to act against him this one time.

"We'll take you there," Jonas said while Matthew and the others tackled Luisito to cover his mouth.

Once settled, Zeirenne opened the briefcase she laid on the rusty table for everyone to see what's inside. She brought out one stack of folders before distributing each to the five men.

"I assigned you on different departments after assessing your talents. Don't worry, I didn't do some digging on you five. I swear," she looked up to see their creased foreheads, "Alright, fine I did. But it's only for some brief background. I assigned your talents myself."

As the men flipped through the pages, she decided to clear out their thoughts. She knew these men were suspicious of her offer and explaining everything in great detail would bring them closer to realizing every word she'd spoken was real.

"Starting with you, Kiddo," she said, "I mean, Mr. Jonas Ventura. Whether you like it or not, I'm sending you to school."

His mouth went agape.

"From the look on your face, you must hate school. I'm still sending you though."

"No that's not—"

"I heard you were able to send that message to CF&H without leaving your traces behind. That's amazing. Employees there are genius freaks, what you did was more than spectacular. I'm impressed so I'm sending you to study computers. If you turn to page 5, those are the finest IT universities affiliated to ZA International. I'll let you choose for yourself."

While the boy's jaw dropped to the ground, Zeirenne turned her head to face another man, "You, Mr. Gardo Amorsolo, did the right thing. So I'm hiring you as an executive driver."

He furrowed his brows. "Right thing?"

"Yes. Right thing. When in an argument, veer your car to the side to avoid accidents. That's the basic rule people on movies keep on ignoring."

Gardo scratched his head, "Oh, hehe. I just did what I had to."

"As for you three. I wanted to send you all into acting since you all played such amazing roles. But I changed my mind."

She faced Matthew. He was the one who greeted her on her doorstep.

"I really wanted to send you into acting because I liked your stalker expression. But no one likes stalkers in movies and you'll probably end up as an extra most of the time. The income could get unstable sometimes so I decided to put you in ZA International's security team instead. When someone acts up please use that expression wisely. Okay?"

Before Matthew could respond, she faced the only person who ever spoke to her during her kidnapping incident. Her seatmate then.

"Your acting skills, Mister Gerome Santillan, impressed me as well. You acted so terrified knowing full well there were no bullets inside the gun Mr. Luisito was holding."

"You knew there weren't bullets? No wonder you acted the way you wanted."

Zeirenne rubbed her chin. "Well, if that's what considered as normal then sure. But I'm putting you in customer service. You're a good talker and I'm sure if you sound just as terrified as the callers, they'd have an easier time expressing their concerns."

She faced Luisito while everyone nodded their heads unsure.

"And you…" she smirked," I'm making you the head of the disciplinary committee for this summit's trainees. They're all from different companies so I don't know how much of an attitude they could give. But you're a good leader. I'm sure you can handle them fine."

"Good leader huh?" Luisito crossed his arms, "We've only met once. How do you know that?"

"Well. Although you're very hotheaded in nature…"

The four men agreed. "That's true."

"And I was a little bit unsatisfied by your sloppy acting, I still knew you were a great leader from our very first meeting. You acted so brash and dominantly abusive as if screaming I AM THE MASTERMIND PUT ME BEHIND BARS IF THINGS GO WRONG. It's not advisable but since you're someone who's brave enough to protect your subordinates, you're in."

His eyes doubled in size.

"That's not tru!—why are you all looking at me?" He growled at his men. They were all looking at him with adoration. Which he didn't want to accept. "Don't believe her silly speculations. Tsk."

After their meeting, Zeirenne succeeded in making all of them sign for the clauses under their employments. Dylan was about to drive off when she stopped him.

From a distance, Jonas was sprinting towards their car. He was gasping for air when Zeirenne opened the window.

"What do you need, Kid?"

He took a step closer and bowed his head in front of her window.

"I-I don't know why you're doing this. But I want to thank you for everything."

Zeirenne nodded her head. "Okay."

"I promise I won't waste this opportunity. And it's not like I don't want to study... it's just--"

"I know," she interrupted, "Poverty sucks. You don't have to rub it in."

The young boy brought his head up to look at her. With a surprised expression, he asked, "You came from a poor family too?"

"No. I was born rich."

She leaned closer to the window.

"Just because I've never been there doesn't mean I don't care. Cut the stereotype, kid. This neighborhood's been pushing me to the edge from my very first step. Tsk tsk."

"Oh, sorry..."

"Forgiven. Now if you'll excuse us, we still have things to do."

Jonas watched the car drift into the highway. That moment, he felt a surge of emotion inside his chest. Then and there, he promised he'd do anything to return the favor he's been given. Gripping the folder in his hand, he looked up to see the sky. After a long time, they seemed blue. The good kind of blue.

. . .