Chapter 19

Stepping out of the sleek black cab, Roger was dwarfed by the imposing presence of Fire Swan's main headquarters. The towering structure loomed above all the surrounding buildings, a testament to the corporation's power and influence. As he gathered his belongings, he noticed a young man leaning against a half wall, engrossed in smoking a cigarette.

Paid the man no mind as he continued up the stairs. Just as he was about to stride confidently past the threshold of his current target, his phone erupted into a cacophony of sound. It was a ringtone he had assigned years ago to one contact only - 'The Colonel.' The sight of the name alone brought a twinge of irritation to his otherwise calm demeanor. He had learned to tolerate the Colonel's inconvenient calls, considering them an occupational hazard in his line of work. Yet a certain foreboding this evening made him less than thrilled to hear from him.

With a sigh that echoed the weight of many such conversations past, he accepted the call and brought the device up to his ear, "Colonel, the great interrupter of plans, you're barging in on an operation in progress. What could possibly be of such paramount importance?" As he spoke, he deftly flipped open a sleek silver lighter, its flame dancing in the cool night air, and lit a cigarette. The ember glowed, a solitary point of light that mirrored his smoldering annoyance.

"I've got an unexpected twist for your evening," the Colonel's voice crackled over the line, a hint of amusement in his tone. "Consider it a bonus round."

He responded with a scoff, the smoke from his cigarette curling around his words, "I'm a mercenary, Colonel, not a multitasker. I meticulously plan and execute one job at a time."

"I'm perfectly aware, my friend," the Colonel replied, unfazed. "But the universe has conspired to place this second job practically at your feet. It's a minor detour, nothing that would disrupt your artistic process. Let's not make a mountain out of a molehill."

"Colonel, you're the one complicating my job here. If you want me to consider it, make it worth my while."

"Fifteen hundred," the Colonel proposed, his voice businesslike. It's a straightforward pick-up with no additional complications."

A laugh slipped through his lips, "You know as well as I do that my base rate is ten grand. If you're not prepared to dig a little deeper and discuss serious numbers, I'm afraid this conversation is over."

"Alright, alright," the Colonel conceded, a hint of annoyance seeping into his tone. "The actual pay-out for this job is fifty-five grand. After subtracting my commission, you'd be left with a cool forty-five grand. Does that hold your interest?"

He took a long drag from his cigarette, allowing the silence to hang heavy between them before asking, "What's the package?"

"It's Nothing more than a thumb drive, a microscopic cog in a much larger machine. It's tucked away in an office you might find yourself in sooner rather than later. Once we have confirmed that it's safely in your possession, all you need to do is retrieve it and transport it to a predetermined location."

He responded immediately and firmly, "Colonel, I'm not in the business of stirring up hornets' nests. I value my solitude and my peace. Goodbye, old man."

Roger continued on his way, his body filled with an unnatural amount of calmness and determination. Making his way towards the imposing entrance of Fire Swan's headquarters.

As he entered the building, Roger was met with an air of tension. The first checkpoint was guarded by a group of formidable-looking security personnel. Their uniforms were crisp, and their eyes were sharp, scanning every individual who dared to approach.

One guard, clearly the group leader, stepped forward, his voice dripping aggressively. "Hey, dickhead! Do you even know who owns this building? Get out of here!" he barked, his tone challenging and confrontational.

Roger could feel the eyes of everyone around him fixated on the unfolding scene. Unfazed by the guard's hostility, Roger maintained his composure and continued walking, ignoring his insults. Realizing they might have an incident, the guard quickly reached for his radio to communicate with his colleagues.

With a calm and collected demeanor, Roger responded, "I'm here on official business. Mr. Miyamoto sent me to handle some business."

The guard's face contorted with a mixture of surprise and annoyance. He hesitated momentarily, then turned to his colleagues, engaging in a calm conversation. Their voices carried a sense of urgency as they deliberated the situation.

Time seemed to stretch as Roger maintained his composure, his eyes fixed on the guard. Finally, after an eternity, the guard reached for his radio, transmitting a message to someone higher up the chain of command.

A tense silence filled the air as the guard awaited a response. Then, a crackling voice burst through the radio, granting permission for Roger to proceed. The guard's expression shifted from hostility to reluctant respect as he realized the significance of Roger's presence.

The gate's light changed from an ominous red to an inviting green, signaling Roger's clearance to enter the rest of the building. With a nod of acknowledgment to the guard, Roger stepped forward, his footsteps echoing through the grand entrance as he ventured deeper into the heart of Fire Swan's headquarters.