The Weapon

15:07
Monday 22nd April
Devon Industries Head Office
His footsteps echoed on the marble floor, one hand slung casually in his left pocket. The other dangled free. Each door slid past his vision, every detail memorized, every figure noted, eyes betraying nothing. Not even the friendly smile that decorated his face as he nodded towards familiar people.
To the casual onlooker he was Jacob Statton, slightly messy brown hair, constantly falling into warm chocolate brown eyes on an innocent face. He was a businessman in partnership with his beloved uncle and together they had managed to raise their small construction team into a booming corporation. Handsome and confident, he was the picture of the model American.
His feet hit the carpet of the lobby on the fourth floor. With a polite smile at the new receptionist he elicited a faint blush. Inwardly, he rolled his eyes as he pressed his hand onto the sensor, his other hand typing a sequence of numbers. The small ping assured his access and he gave a small wink as he turned into the monitored elevator, catching a glimpse at her thoroughly reddened face as the doors swished shut.
As they opened again his ears immediately picked up the harsh tone, even before his eyes met with the man, slumped too carelessly in the desk chair.
“Jacob,” the chair swung around from the window’s ample view on the fourteenth floor, “You’re late.”
Jacob’s eyebrows rose in a careless shrug as he walked over, lounging in the chair before the desk, uninvited. “I had business to take care of.” His eyes cast down at the polished wood, noting the small revolver with a pained look, “Your business.”
The angry scowl dissipated almost as quickly as it had appeared, “Then it’s finished?”
“Umhmm,” Jacob murmured as his fingers wrapped around the gun, his hand occupied with tossing it back and forth easily, manipulating it with the ease of practice and skill.
Michael Devon’s eyes watched the display uninterestedly, “Good. Then there will be no interruptions with the next one.”
Instantly Jacob’s hands stilled and his eyes darkened as he looked up, “Next one?” His voice was soft and cold, his mouth barely moving, his body tense and alert.
Michael swung his chair back around to the window, standing so he was at the edge, his own brown hair combed and kept neat. The resemblance was unmistakable looking at the reflection in the bulletproof glass. His hands found pockets as he spoke to his nephew, who had also stood, posture stiff with anger.
“We agreed this would be the last one. I’m finished, Mike.”
“You’re finished when I say you’re finished. Not a second before.” The steely edge that had crept into Michael’s voice didn’t affect Jacob in the slightest and he shook his head.
“No. I won’t do you’re dirty work for you any more. I said I’m done.” He turned to storm out of the room, when Michael’s voice penetrated his anger.
“Where will you go little nephew?”
The mocking voice made Jacob’s steps falter and he turned to find Michael had walked away from the window, staring at the revolver in his hands with a fascinated look.
Jacob’s eyes narrowed further as he spat out, “I’m a big boy now, I think I can figure it out.”
“How long do you think you can hold out? How far do you think you can run?” Michael sighed, his face turning sad as he stepped closer to Jacob, his voice turning into a soft whisper of affection, “Jacob, you’re like a son to me. I would hate for anything to happen to you while not under my protection. I will not have a repeat of your mother’s death.”
Jacob’s eyes grew wide and resentful, wrenching himself away from the warm embrace Michael had wrapped around him. “Don’t you dare talk about her! You never cared about your own sister’s death, so don’t try and pretend that you actually give a damn about me.”
Brown eyes met brown and as the click of Michael’s gun was audible, he felt the cold edge of a silencer in his stomach, safety already off. Jacob’s face was impassive again, as if he hadn’t just shouted moments ago. A deadly smirk betrayed in his voice, “Be careful, Uncle, of what you’ve created.”
There was a tense standoff as Michael dropped his gun until it was shattered by the older man’s booming laughter. “You were taught well, weren’t you? You never cease to amaze me.” With that, he walked away, leaving Jacob standing there, utterly frustrated. “Have a drink,” Michael offered with a grin, “and how the hell did you manage to get that in here? No, don’t tell me. I’d prefer to not know all of your little secrets. Now come, and we’ll discuss your next project.”
Jacob dully noted the two men enter the room, stiff and alert. He got the message. He had two choices: walk away and be disowned and implicitly killed, or accept the next assignment.
Bitterly, he accepted the outstretch glass, the gun vanishing into its hidden place, and downed it in one gulp, sitting down miserably as Michael smiled. The manila folder revealed the picture of a boy who couldn’t be more than eighteen and Jacob’s lips pressed together in a hard line as his eyes scanned the page, his face loosening with every new word.
He looked up with confusion, “He isn’t a target…?”
Looking pleased with himself, the man grinned at Jacob like an indulgent father on Christmas day. “I thought you’d like this one.” With a curt gesture, the two men disappeared into the shadows once more before he continued, “Noah Parsons. Eighteen years old, no track record, no cases against him. In fact, according to the civilian world, Noah Parsons doesn’t even exist.”
Jacob looked up from the sheet of paper with an unreadable expression. He waited for him to continue.
“But to every agency, this boy is invaluable. Everything else is classified. All you need to know is that you are assigned as his companion. You will not let him out of your sight until further notice. In other words, you are his body guard.”
Jacob nodded dumbly, accepting this new twist.
Michael’s voice turned soft once more, “Jacob, I promised you no more assassination assignments and I meant it. You should have learned to trust me by now. We’re flesh and blood.”
Jacob swallowed, nodding again. “I-I’m sorry. I should have…”
“Don’t worry about it Jacob. It’s a good thing you’re my favorite nephew.”
Jacob’s wry grin melted his features the smallest bit. “Now where would I be if I wasn’t your only nephew?”
The man chuckled, and continued, walking Jacob back to the elevator, “The rest of your instructions and resources are in the folder. Good luck.”