Jo Reagan

Jo put down his phone, frowning. 

He was sitting in his velvet armchair, in his office overlooking the surrounding houses, perched up at the top of his hotel. 

Yet, he was frowning all the same. 

It wasn't because of the drivers honking in the street or the wind pounding against his windows. 

The truth was he couldn't care less about those things. 

No, he was frowning because of the phone call he'd just received. 

Jo didn't mind if the organization wanted to get rid of Alex Reddick, but it became problematic if Alex's father got involved. Bernard Reddick was one of his men, and Jo refused to lose him after all of his hard work. 

After all, just like a corkscrew was only good for opening champagne bottles, a killer was only good if he could kill. 

A dead killer was about as useful as a broken corkscrew that couldn't be fixed and, to avoid losing his corkscrew, Jo had to call Bernard to warn him. 

TIRING 

TIRING 

Bernard picked up on the second ring. 

"Is that you, Jo?" 

He sounded both surprised and relieved, making Jo smile. 

"Who else would it be, old friend? Listen, your son's gotten himself into some trouble. 

- Alex? He didn't say anything to me. Must be serious if it's reached your ears first. 

- I'm afraid he's angered one of the big bosses." 

A long silence set in. Jo could hear Bernard's breathing grow heavier and more labored on the other end of the line. Jo's smile widened in response. 

There's a fundamental difference between a corkscrew and a human being. You can only use someone if you're asking them to do something they already want to do. A killer who doesn't want to kill is still as useless as a broken corkscrew. 

Jo was smiling because, just from Bernard's breathing, he could sense all his rage and anger. 

'Per-fect. Perfect!' he thought. 

Now he just had to find a way to keep him alive. 

"Don't worry, Bernard. I'm sure we'll find a solution. Listen, I'll check with my contacts and we'll talk it over at the ceremony." 

Bernard didn't respond for several long seconds. 

"All right, Jo. And thanks for your help. 

- No problem, my friend. That's what friends are for, right? 

- Thanks again." 

Jo hung up with a slight smile on his lips. The call hadn't lasted a minute, but it had smoothed away his frown. 

He pressed the intercom button on the corner of his desk. 

"Samantha, would you please come up to my office? I need a small favor." 

After delivering his message, he settled comfortably into his velvet armchair. 

He'd never intended to contact even one of his connections to try saving young Reddick. The truth was that he was more useful to Jo dead than alive. All he would have to do was assign targets for Bernard, who wouldn't stop at anything to uncover the "truth" the he would have fabricated. He would become one of Jo's best weapons. 

"First Ethan," he thought. "For the rest, we will have to wait for the perfect opportunity." 

Jo would've liked to kill Alex Reddick himself to keep maximum control and limit the risks and consequences. Bernard, in a fit of rage, could easily create enemies, some powerful enough that Jo couldn't afford to provoke them. 

'Unfortunately, I can't kill him myself…' he thought, remembering his first call of the day. 

The odds of David Sanderson contacting the Bernard were low, but Jo didn't want to take chances. No one knew what was going on in the Prince of Information's head. The man was so isolated that no one could figure him out and maybe only the death of another prince could bring him down from his pentagon. 

"It's the perfect chance to assassinate him, but no one's crazy enough to try." 

Information was a powerful weapon, sometimes sharper than any knife. Killing Sanderson would be like setting off a bomb: every big shot in town would see their secrets dragged into the light. At that point, the government and the military would have no choice but to intervene and clean house. Jo knew he wouldn't be spared in that purge, and he wouldn't come out unscathed. 

That's why David Sanderson was untouchable. 

Similarly, though for other reasons, Amanda was also off-limits. If Bernard ended up clashing with either of them, Jo would have no choice but to cut ties with him. 

Considering this was a long-term investment, he wanted his efforts to pay off. 

As he was thinking it all through, a woman entered the office without bothering to knock. She had a pair of stunning legs, a tight skirt, and the power to bring a smile back to his face. 

"Samantha! I know I haven't been around much these last few days, but I hope your week went well." 

She walked closer and sat on his lap without crossing her legs. 

"You do look splendid today, and that perfume suits you perfectly," he continued with a smile, acting as though everything was normal. 

"Sweet talker... I bet you say that to all the pretty young women you meet," she replied, pouting. 

Jo feigned a hurt look. 

"Of course not, sweetheart. You know how much you mean to me." 

Her gaze softened, but she still looked a bit suspicious. 

"So what kept you so busy these last few days you couldn't find time for me?" she asked, batting her eyelashes. 

Jo adopted a sorrowful expression, as if recalling a traumatic childhood memory. 

"A close friend of mine died a week ago, and I went to visit his family to offer my support…" 

His voice cracked at the end of the sentence. Even without mint crystals, Jo had no trouble producing a few tears. 

"I'm so sorry to hear that, honey..." she said, hugging him close. 

Jo could feel her warmth through her blouse, something he quite enjoyed. 

"Is there anything I can do for you?" she asked, holding him against her chest. 

Jo only spoke after carefully wiping away his tears. 

"I have to leave in a few minutes for the funeral. I asked you here because I need someone to handle reception while I'm gone. Bernard's also been invited, so I need someone on hand to greet our clients. 

- No problem, honey." 

After straightening his tie, she kissed him for several long seconds before standing, leaving a faint layer of lipstick behind as a keepsake. 

"Be sure to call me when you get back from the funeral, especially if you need a little pick-me-up," she said before stepping out, closing the door behind her. 

Jo kept his slight smile long after she was gone. 

'That's one thing taken care of,' he thought, getting up from his chair. 

He would have enjoyed a glass of whiskey before leaving, but he wanted to arrive early at the service to observe a potential new recruit. After spending a few seconds in front of the mirror to remove any lipstick marks, he finally left his office and took the elevator. 

Down in the lobby, he made a point to greet Samantha as if nothing had happened before heading out of the building. 

Outside, a sedan was waiting at the bottom of a short flight of steps, and the driver stepped forward to open the door. 

"Good morning, Mathews. How's your wife doing with her pregnancy?" Jo asked, settling into the back seat. 

Mathews, his driver, answered only once he was back behind the wheel. 

"Everything's fine at home, Jo. Aside from a few random midnight wake-ups, it's all pure bliss. You should see her little face, I'm sure you'd find her irresistible." 

Jo caught the proud smile and the bright twinkle in Mathews's eyes in the rearview mirror. Faced with such enthusiasm, he couldn't help but smile. 

"You know, Mathews, I've got kids at home, so I know exactly what you're going through." And with a laugh, he added, "Thank goodness Melissa nags me to get to work, or I'd spend all day at home with them." 

Mathews let out a hearty laugh, which was cut short by a phone ringing. Practiced by now, he pressed a button on the dashboard, causing a partition to slide up, soundproofing the back seat. 

Jo frowned when he saw who was calling, then picked up. 

"Everything all right, Bernard?" 

- Jo, I've killed someone." 

'Please don't let it be David Sanderson,' Jo thought, trying to find out more. 

- Who was it? 

- A Crisps soldier, but I also shot three of his buddies and disfigured the mayor's son." 

'I was worried for nothing, today's turning out great!' Jo burst into genuine laughter. 

"Sorry, Bernard. I know I shouldn't laugh, but still! You plan on announcing your comeback by killing second-rate criminals? You used this old man to aim higher. 

- I'm not coming back." 

Jo quickly regained his composure. Today wasn't the day—he wasn't ready to blow everything up yet. He still lacked the necessary resources… lots of them. 

"I know, I know. Just messing with you, old friend. As for your son, we'll talk about it this evening after the funeral, maybe over a beer. 

- Thanks, Jo, for your help. See you later. 

- No problem, Bernard. That's what friends are for. Drive safe." 

After he hung up, Jo poured himself a glass of whiskey to steady his nerves. After all these years and all that effort, Bernard was finally about to be useful to him once again. Once he'd emptied his glass in one gulp, he motioned to Mathews to lower the partition so they could resume chatting. 

And so they did, for the rest of the drive: talking about their wives, their work, and their children. They only stopped once they arrived at their destination. 

Mathews pulled over a few hundred yards from the imposing gates at Jo's request because he wanted to walk the final stretch. 

"The ceremony shouldn't last more than an hour and a half," Jo told Mathews as he got out. "I'll give you a call once I'm done." 

Mathews acknowledged with a small nod before going back behind the wheel.

Jo watched the sedan drive off, only turning toward the cemetery once it had left. 

'Time to meet the new generation and see what they're made of,' he thought as he approached the gates. 

Bernard and his son were already there, but they could wait a few minutes. For now, Jo's eyes were fixed on the figure standing in front of the massive gates. The small man seemed intrigued by the inscriptions carved into them. 

"Impressive, isn't it?" Jo asked as he approached. 

'This man is dangerous,' was his first thought upon seeing the young killer up close. 

"It certainly is, Mr. Reagan," the man replied, "but you're not eligible to have your name inscribed on these gates." 

Jo concealed his anger behind a light laugh. 

"I'm well aware of that, Mr. Washington. Still, I'm curious why you insult me at our first meeting." 

"An insult? I merely stated a fact. Was there something you wanted to ask?" 

Jo shook his head. 

"No, not at all. I just wanted to get to know you, Mr. Washington, nothing more." 

'I don't think I can control him.' 

That was Jo's conclusion, one he had reached it, he could cancel his plan without regret. Meeting people face-to-face was always the best way to find out if they were hiding something behind a façade. As for the little guy in front of him, Jo couldn't tell if his madness was a mask or his true self. Either way, he wasn't willing to take the risk. He didn't want a knife that could stab him in the back overnight. 

Hearing Jo's answer, George stepped closer and stood on tiptoe to whisper in his ear, 

"People who approach me always want something, Mr. Reagan, and I doubt your so-called stellar reputation excuses you from that." 

'That just means I haven't caused enough of a stir yet…' Jo thought, raising his voice. 

"I heard you crucified Father Frédérick?" 

For some unknown reason, George's eyes went wide, like saucers. 

'This man really has a screw loose,' Jo thought, forcing himself not to react. 

"I haven't broken any rules, so I don't see why it would displease you," George finally replied. 

"He was one of my men," Jo told him. 

"One of your men?" 

George put a hand over his mouth and laughed, plainly ignoring Jo's dark scowl. 

'I'm gonna kill this guy.' 

"He quit killing years ago. Unless you're the president of some retirement club for New York assassins, I doubt he was one of yours," George continued, as if Jo wasn't even there. 

Jo felt a tic in his face as he listened to that nonsense. 

'I'm killing this bastard in the next few hours.' 

"Stop what you're doing in my city, or you'll face the consequences Mr Washington." 

"Jo Reagan threatening me? I wonder what the other members would say if they heard about this." 

"You're out of your mind. No one would believe anything you think or say," Jo retorted sharply. 

George looked ready to respond, but a voice interrupted: 

"We'll talk about it once we're back!" 

Bernard seemed to be scolding his son, and Jo silently thanked him for the perfect timing. He had no reason to keep talking to George, who was giving him migraines and repeated anger flashes, so he walked away to greet Bernard with open arms. 

"I know I shouldn't be so enthusiastic under these sad circumstances," Jo said with a genuine smile, "but I'm still glad to see you." 

Bernard met him halfway, arms wide open. 

"Ha ha ha! You were only gone three days, but you already missed me?" 

"You old rascal, who said I missed you?" 

Jo let Bernard pull him in for a hug. 

"You're the old one here. You don't even have any hair left!" 

"And those five gray hairs of yours don't count, you little scoundrel." 

Laughing, Jo grabbed Bernard's head and gave him a vigorous noogie. He knew Bernard hated anyone touching his hair, but Jo didn't care. 

Their banter lasted only a moment, but it gave Jo time to size up the situation. Then he turned toward Alex with his trademark smile. 

"How's it going, kid?" 

"Great, Uncle Jo. You?" 

'He really has no clue,' Jo thought, gripping the young man's shoulder firmly. 

"Couldn't be better! You'll have to give me a ride in that Lambo of yours one of these days." 

"Anytime you want, Uncle Jo!" 

"We'll see when I can free up my schedule. You know how it is with my job—it could be tomorrow or next week," he said boisterously, while thinking, 'Now let me talk to your father.' 

But young Reddick didn't seem to get the hint, so Jo had to change approach and let his smile fade. 

"Today is a time for mourning." 

Father and son both sighed in unison, which surprised Jo. 

'It's not like they have the slightest idea who this man really was or what his death means for the organization.' 

To be honest, Jo himself didn't know why the Director had invited them to the funeral. He turned to the man in a suit who was walking toward them. 

'I doubt even David knows what's going on in that lunatic's mind,' he thought, greeting the undertaker before being interrupted by a whisper. 

"Did you find out anything else?" 

It was Bernard, speaking softly, as if afraid someone might overhear. 

"All my leads suddenly dried up, and everyone's gone silent. 

- Can't you use this opportunity to track down whoever gave my son that money?" 

Jo shook his head sincerely. 

"It's too risky, Bernard. Any move by my informants would be noticed by the High Table. Something's happening behind the scenes, and I'm not about to risk my wife's and daughters' lives just to uncover the truth. Sorry, my friend, but we have to be patient." 

Bernard said nothing for several seconds, long enough for Jo to dread his next question. 

"Can you help us run away?" 

That was exactly what Jo didn't want to hear. 

"You can't be serious." 

But Bernard's determined expression told him everything he needed to know. 

"I can't help you." 

"Why?" 

'Because it's madness.' 

Of course, he couldn't say that. The rules wouldn't allow it, and no one, not even the Director, could afford to break them. 

"What am I supposed to tell Melissa and my two angels if I don't come home?" 

Bernard had no answer for that. 

"I'm sorry, my friend." 

Jo placed a hand on his shoulder, then walked away to let the man think. He needed time to think as well. 

'Should I kill him or let him run?' 

That was the question, and as he watched the leaves swirl in the wind, he waited for an answer. A single leaf landed on his shoulder as if offering a sign. 

'Kill him, then.' 

But the real sign wasn't the leaf, it was the man standing a few steps beyond it, the one who knew everything in this city. 

'David Sanderson is really there. Never thought I'd see him step out of his penthouse,' Jo thought, pulling a packet of sugar-free orange tic-tac from his pocket. 

That would have to suffice to pass the time. Jo himself wasn't sure if he wanted to talk to David before the ceremony, and fortunately, the man's was already occupied talking with the sole daughter of the Fujiwara. Jo just had to wait. Of course, he made sure to greet Ethan and Amanda with an attempt at a smile, more of a grimace really, before stepping aside. 

It was only after several more minutes that the gates began to open. David, who had finished his conversation with Mako Fujiwara, approached with his two bodyguards in tow. 

"The weather's pretty awful today. Wouldn't you agree, Mr. Reagan?" 

"Indeed, Mr. Anderson. The forecast says a storm should hit the city in about an hour." 

David started walking toward the cemetery entrance, forcing Jo to follow. 

"I doubt it'll take that long, Mr. Reagan. You see, the storm will arrive shortly." 

He offered no further explanation, keeping that same annoying, mysterious smile on his lips. 

'I hate him, and of course he knows it,' Jo thought, clenching his fists while trying to maintain his warmest smile. 

They crossed the threshold together, David's bodyguards stopping a few meters behind them. Despite all Jo's years of service, this was only the second time he'd met the Director in person, the first had been when he was promoted to manager of the New York branch. The Director had shown up just to say one line: 

"As long as royalty exists, you'll never have more than a mirage of true power." 

That was exactly how Jo felt whenever David spoke to him on the phone. 

"You'll kill Bernard when the time comes right?" 

Those were David's first words after they'd stepped inside, and to say Jo didn't like them was an understatement. 

"What do you mean by that?" 

David merely shrugged. 

'What's that bastard getting at?' Jo wondered furiously, but he immediately calmed himself. 

'I should probably go talk to Bernard before he does something stupid.' 

No matter what might happen, David couldn't die or the consequences would be catastrophic. Jo shot a dark look at the man still smiling beside him, then left to find Bernard. 

Knowing Bernard, he was probably one of the first to enter the cemetery. Jo sped up until he reached the gravestone, but Bernard wasn't there, and Jo couldn't really turn back in front of the other guests. 

His surprise deepened when he finally saw Bernard approaching. 

'What's on his mind?' Jo wondered warily. 

Bernard's eyes looked hazy, as if recalling some long-buried memory. 

"Bernard? You all right?" Jo called out softly, trying not to let the other guests hear. 

The man didn't respond at all, as if he hadn't heard. Before Jo could repeat his question, the undertaker began his speach:

"Ladies and gentlemen,

We are gathered here today to bid farewell to John, a person who touched many of our lives in different ways. In this time of pain and sorrow, we come together to honor his memory and celebrate the life he lived.

John was a loyal individual, known for his selflessness and hard work. His presence was always marked by compassion and respect. He will be missed and will remain forever in our hearts.

It's difficult to find the words to express what we're all feeling at this moment. The loss of John leaves an immense void, but we must remember the happy times and cherished memories we shared with him.

Today, we say goodbye, but we know his spirit will remain among us, watching over those he cared about. May we find strength in the love and support we share here, and may we honor his memory by living our lives with the same generosity and compassion he showed.

I now invite you to join me in a moment of silence, to reflect on John's life and what he meant to each of you."

The undertaker paused for a few seconds of silence.

"Thank you all for coming today to pay your respects. May he rest in peace." 

A heavy silence settled for several minutes, then was broken by a ringing phone. It was Alex's, which started to ring, then Bernard's joined in, and soon Jo's began to vibrate. 

"What do you want from me?" Jo asked, answering his phone. 

A man's voice echoed on the other end: 

"You tried to rise to the top, to become as powerful as the princes." 

The pause was too brief for Jo to reply. 

"You shall suffer the same fate as them." 

BANG 

A sniper's bullet tore through young Reddick's heart. 

'What is happening?' 

Jo was too stunned to process what had just occurred before his eyes. The Promesse Cemetery was supposed to be a sanctuary, a place beyond the organization's politics and killings. But as if to mock him, Bernard pulled a pistol from his jacket and aimed it at David Sanderson. 

"IT'S BECAUSE OF YOU AND YOUR SCHEMING THAT HE'S DEAD!" 

Then, like a flash: 

BANG 

A single shot, his shot, pierced Bernard's skull from behind. He fell face-first to the ground, without ever seeing the shooter's face. 

'So that's what he meant by that,' Jo thought, feeling a chill run through him. 

He had just killed Bernard, exactly as David Sanderson had foretold. 

BANG 

A second sniper bullet whizzed past, barely missing George's head by a few inches. The little man still wore that mischievous grin, as though he hadn't just brushed against death. 

'He really is insane,' Jo thought, watching him sprint toward the sniper's position. 

Meanwhile, the three princes and young Mako had taken cover behind tombstones, all on their phones. Jo had no idea who they were calling or what they were discussing. As distant gunfire continued, he decided to grab Bernard's gun, still clenched in the dead man's warm hand. 

'Now all that's left is to wait. Someone must have called in backup.' 

He ducked back behind the gravestone just in time for another bullet to slam into it. It was the first of five more that struck his gravestone in the following five minutes, one bullet per minute for him, whereas Mako had only taken three. Of course, the other three had received no attention at all. 

'Guess they're not the targets,' Jo mused, staying perfectly still behind his gravestone. 

He had his doubts because of the call, but those threats might have been empty air after all. Everyone in the organization knew the princes were untouchable. 

'And yet, John is very much dead and I planned to replace Ethan…' 

He snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of Mako's lovely voice. 

"What do we do now?" 

David was the first, and only, to answer. But before that, he pulled a macaron from his suit pocket and swallowed it in one bite. 

"That's really up to you." 

"What do you mean?" she asked. 

He wiped the corner of his mouth with his sleeve before answering, 

"You're the targets, so you're the ones who should be worried. Best move is to stay hidden until our men arrive. You've just dodged the storm wall; it'd be a shame to get swept away now." 

Jo's phone vibrated again, and he answered without checking the name on the screen. 

"Who is this, and what do you want?" 

"Jo, it's Mathews. I heard gunshots when I parked. I tried opening the gates with some of our men, but this old guy is blocking us. Is everything okay in there?" 

"All good, don't worry. I'll call you back in a few minutes once I've discussed a plan with the others." 

He hung up immediately, not bothering to hide his anger. 

"We have a problem. Serge is blocking the entrance." 

David was the only one to respond. 

"That doesn't surprise me." 

He took a sip from his flask, then turned to the other two princes. 

"My helicopter should be here soon. Need a ride?" 

"No," Amanda answered melodiously, sounding almost indifferent. "I don't know what he's thinking, and I don't care. If he believes he can get away unscathed, then not even a psych ward can save him." 

Right then, Amanda's phone chimed with an incoming message, not a call, just a text. Yet her expression twisted into fury. 

"How long have you known?" she demanded, glaring at David. She had not even tried to hide her rage. 

He simply raised an eyebrow, as usual. 

"Could you be more specific?" 

Amanda shifted her gaze to Mako. 

"That this bitch was the one who hired the killers." 

'Now this is interesting…' Jo thought, placing a gun in Amanda's opened palm. 

"Wait, ma'am! I had nothing to do with your husband's" Mako began, but her words fell on deaf ears. The Scarlet Assassin fired two rounds into her chest, and even after she collapsed, Amanda shot her again. 

'What a shame…' Jo thought, watching such a beautiful woman die before his eyes. 

He didn't know what was in that message Amanda had read, but it clearly drove her to a fury that she wasn't faking. 

Meanwhile, sniper bullets were still striking Jo's gravestone at a steady rhythm, ignoring Amanda entirely, even though she was standing out in the open. David kept sipping his drink while Ethan remained silent. 

The wind was howling now, enough to ring in Jo's ears. Fallen leaves scattered across the ground rose in billowing waves. 

"There's my taxi," David announced, getting to his feet. He casually brushed away a few leaves clinging to his suit. 

A helicopter appeared over the cemetery wall, fighting the gusts to land a few feet from the prince. Jo knew David wouldn't risk helping him escape this deathtrap. 

"We'll settle all this tonight, once it's over." 

David climbed aboard, and the rotors began spinning at full speed. All the while, another bullet slammed into the gravestone at Jo's back. The marble had started to crack in multiple places, he'd have to find new cover soon. 

BANG 

This time, the shot was much closer, too close. Jo glanced to his left to see where it had come from before letting himself slide to the ground. He could only feel the earth beneath him, the smell of gunpowder, and the sound of an enormous explosion echoing in his ears.