Page 113 of Eyes in the Shadows

I am the Ghost

The kind lady receptionist tells me it is my turn and the mayor will see me now. I’ve made note of all cameras, and cheat my face away from them as she leads me towards the office. I have already removed my earpiece, as I do not need anyone else in my head while I do this.

“Thank you,” I say to her. “I will see myself in from here.”

She gives me a brief flash of a smile, trying to conceal the tightness of fear in her eyes I have come to expect, then disappears down the hall. She is young, and, since I am not yet dead, I take a moment to appreciate the curve of her generous hips as she walks away. But now, I do not need witnesses to his reaction to my face, whatever it may be.

I enter without knocking, briefly taking stock of the wall of windows facing a retention pond, the filing cabinets lining the wall, and expensive furnishings that certainly were not standard government issue. I get all the way to the chairs in front of his oversized desk before he swivels around. He freezes.

“Pete, let me call you back…” Mayor Anderson says into the receiver of the phone.

We stare at each other for a second, and I track the very slow, purposeful movements of his arms as they move down to his lap, then slip under the top drawer. I sit back, as if I have no cares, though I keep my muscles tense so I am ready to move as quickly as I may need to.

“I hear you have been looking for me,” I say.

He frowns, posturing as if he has no fear, but his eyes dart to the closed door behind me, giving him away. He feels trapped, cornered. But it is not my fault that weaker men are often intimidated. “Pal, I got no clue who you are.”

“Oh? Is that why you are going for the gun under your desk?” I ask, making a guess.

His arms stop moving as his brows snap down, then his smiling mask slowly falls. He brings the gun up and levels it at me across the table, keeping it low and close to his body. “You’re the Russian that Rossi’s been looking for.”

I shrug, not looking at the barrel. This is not my first time at the wrong end of a gun. What terrified me as a boy does not as a man. “I cannot deny this. I have come here about a certain… shipment that went missing.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” When I sigh and lean forward, it spooks him enough for him to lift the gun. “Hey, stay right where I can see you or I’ll fucking shoot.”

He will not. Not with so many witnesses still in the building. Still, he would like for me to think he would. “You can shoot me, but then you will never find those weapons.”

His face is so expressive I have to wonder how he has managed to keep his dirty businesses a secret all this time. I watch the confusion, then internal debate, then anger cross his features so clearly that it is like he is narrating it aloud.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lies, letting his hand holding the gun drop to rest on the tabletop. “What is this, some cheap attempt at blackmail?”

Years of training and I know my face does not so much as flinch as Mayor Anderson confirms my suspicions. He did not say as much, but I know it to be true. No innocent man would lower his gun as he asks if I am trying to blackmail him. “Rossi is trying to pin it on me, but I did not steal your shipment.”

“Okay, so, you didn’t do anything. Fine, thanks. Get the fuck out and don’t let the door hit ya.”

“I did not say I do not know where they are.” I glance down at the phone in my hand and send him the information from Wesley. “Open your email.”

He transfers the gun to his left hand and rolls his chair a few inches to the right to wake his computer. I can see the screen light up in the reflection that the glass windows make behind him. More glass. What an idiotic design choice. Everyone can see your business.

“What is this… a warehouse?”

“Rossi’s warehouse. Now, ask yourself, as I did, what would a smart businessman, a property manager, buyer of good investments want with a warehouse in the middle of nowhere? Especially one purchased right before the weapons went missing?”

Anderson looks at me, assessing for a moment, then turns back to the screen. He uses the wheel on his mouse to scroll through what I assume is paperwork that looks totally legitimate. Wesley is thorough.

“I don’t know anything about any weapons, pal. But if I did… what, I’m supposed to believe you’re telling me this out of the kindness of your heart?”

I laugh, and the deep sound fills the room. “My heart has no kindness.”

“So?”

“Currently, I am the Russian that Rossi is looking for. I think instead, I can be the Russian who is a friend of the mayor, yes? And the mayor helps his friends, I think.”

I let the threat and suggestion suspend between us. The mayor slowly puts the gun away. “I think I like to know who my friends are.”

I stand. “I am the Ghost,” I say, using the name Eleanor created for me. I like it.

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