Eighteen - Face your Demons

MANHATTAN, NEW YORK

St. James never felt so small in the middle of the affluent neighborhood in the upper east side. Men and women with obvious social standing looked down on him from their high ground. An outcast. He knew from the moment he left his apartment that his choice of apparel today will cost him his inner peace. Regretted that he didn't leave his FBI jacket in his car.

The building security instantly eyed him maliciously. Even the janitor gave a judging look. The perks of his kind. When someone from the bureau visits these kinds of places without prior announcements, hostility welcomes the entourage. One does not simply stroll around this area to pin one of the residents and not getting put in his place. Questions after questions. Inquiries of his visit bombarded him at the lobby. St. James was relieved to hear the voice of his inviter. A young man. Fresh from the elite schools.

"Mr. St. James was personally invited by Lord Samira, Friedrich," The young man passive-aggressively said to the territorial receptionist. He then waved his hand to the nearest elevator. "Mr. St. James, if you please."

Romeo St. James was never an avid fan of formality nor will he ever try to succumb to such norm, but his host was the total representation of the upper-class. Stiff-looking gentlemen came across them when they reached the penthouse. Maids with identical uniforms sweep through the spotless hallway. Chandeliers lined up on the ceiling.

"Lord Viktor will see you now," the young man forced a smile and left.

He opened the huge mahogany door leading to the living room of the penthouse. It wasn't extravagant but it screams wealth and power. Paintings plastered on every corner. The wallpapers add up to the air of elegance. His reverie was cut short when an old man cleared his throat. St. James was not able to react immediately. Having no background in European etiquette nor has he ever been part of such a class. The intimidating gentleman laughed when he tried to curtsy.

"There's no need for that, boy. You might find yourself higher than your current standing soon enough," Viktor tapped the couch in front of him using his gold-plated with a dragon head staff. "Come, sit."

St. James was irritated with the way he was offered a seat. Like a pet to his master. He took the seat with his remaining patience.

"There's no need for pleasantries, agent. My schedule for today is a bit, strained. Now, you might be wondering why I bothered asking you here." Viktor's expression became serious more than earlier.

St. James felt a knot tightened inside him. Fear creeping in. He maintained his composure and nodded to Viktor, awaiting the elaboration of his intentions.

"You were at the funeral, I gathered."

"I'm sorry? What funeral?" St. James's confusion was all over his face.

"Your grandmother's, Nathalia Alderige." Viktor deadpanned.

It was a shock and awe moment for St. James. Denial was his first defense but it can't hold long against the wise lord. He swallowed hard and continued pretending to not relate.

"For heaven's sake, stop this rubbish agent play, Romeo Alfred Alderige," Viktor rolled his eyes when the agent leaned back in surprise. "Your mother had a relationship with Vincent Alderige but given her social position, Nathalia as Nathalia forbade her from joining the family. Martin was kind enough to acknowledge your birthright and supported your education. Even Vincent had been part of your childhood. Why would a Yale and Oxford graduate settle on this pointless pursuit of the bourgeoisie? You have a trust fund that you never used. How noble of you to refuse the life that a lot of people have dreamt of. Just to seek justice for your vicious father."

"Don't you dare speak ill of my father!" Romeo calmly warned.

Viktor was amused with the transition. From the playful facade to the emotionless stare of the agent. He may deny his ancestry but circumstances reveal his true nature.

"So, you agree? You're the last living heir of the Alderige. A very powerful family with one last hope. Clearly, we can't have it all, can we?"

"Since we have established our dispositions with each other, would you be so kind and speak your intentions, my lord? As you've said earlier, Lord Samira, your schedule was a bit, strained." St. James undoubtedly spits back the attitude, not allowing any more affronts towards his deceased family members.

The attitude, the manly poise, the frankness, and the arrogance reminded Viktor of the Clements and Alderige. Romeo was the combination of Martin and Nathalia. Calculated boldness.

"Now, we're leveled," Viktor smirked. "Buenó, I'm here to ask for some details about your investigation. Tell me, agent St. James. Did the people that cause the fiasco on your grandmother's funeral have been caught?"

"To answer your first question, Lord Samira, I was not there. I couldn't stand the hypocrisy of the attendees." St. James did not break eye contact after his subtle insult.

Viktor got the message. Loud and clear. The aggression of the agent was justified. Losing every bit left of who he is. First was his mother at a young age until the death of his prideful grandmother. Viktor was aware of the position of his house in the council. He was also aware of his nephew's extracurricular activities. Disappointed with the atrocity, but family comes first.

"The attendance was massive so I have no idea which sorts you are implying," Viktor crossed his legs swiftly. "And the answer to my other question, agent?"

The atmosphere still favors the host. Viktor recovered. He didn't survive this long just to be undermined by the son of a lowlife whore. Unless St. James will take his family's place in the council, his position will always be below Samira, and Viktor was eager to remind him of that.

St. James clenched his jaw. Outnumbered and outclassed. He plastered his white teeth gaining control of his emotions.

"I believed the information you are asking is classified, sir, but if you feel that indulge to supervise, or to withhold such information, we both know you have a lot of people you can easily frighten," He stood, and again, miserably failed to perfect a curtsy. For in truth, he doesn't have to. "Good day, my lord."

***

12 HOURS EARLIER, EMPERIUM

The police forces waiting outside the building were growing impatient. Time is wasted. They need to retake the building or this drama will be dragged on. Until now, no negotiations were initiated by the hostage-takers. Even for Hector Exconde. Local and foreign news outlets swarm around the block. Covering the historic hostage crisis. Every newspaper in the country puts the ongoing issue on the front page. The excitement died out when Viktor escaped the mayhem. Still, it's an opportunity for those who wished ill upon the great family's legacy.

The forces fell into chaos as the order to retake the building arises. Captain Stevens shouted some incoherent words from a distance. Then, the first line of offense was ordered to withdraw as the SWAT team took over. Tension unfolded across the streets. The sight of fully armored men in all black terrified the onlookers. With one last affirmation, the team slowly and quietly approached the main door. Snipers surrounding the building were already in position.

Imperium braces for impact. The oppressors found themselves defending the very building they've taken. The survivors of the onslaught prayed in silence. Fear was all there is. Hector, aggravated by the ambiance, joined the vigil.

Dwight received an unexpected message. He groaned in annoyance and approached the pretentious gentleman praying with the rest of the hostages. With two other men to assist him, they snatched Hector out of the crowd.

"What is going on now? We're praying for our survival!" Hector angrily shouted to them.

"You're praying to the wrong guy, asshole!" Dwight muttered and pushed Hector to the elevator.

"If you are to execute me, do it in public for much, publicity," Hector demanded. "Viktor survived, might as well demonstrate some control?"

"If you don't shut up for the next sixty seconds, I will surely do it for pleasure," Dwight warned.

After they reached the sub-level floor of the building, they went to the emergency tunnel they've prepared. Five other men waited for them there. The tunnel leads to the nearest subway station.

The SWAT team was puzzled when they've breached the main door. No resisting gunshots nor any enemies advancing to them. Captain Stevens immediately went inside. Confused like the rest. One hostage was missing.

"They took Dr. Exconde. Searched the building, find any suspicious doors, they're not that far."