015
- Okay... What will you do?
- Just take the pills, I won't leave you, I promise.
- Alright Jack... I guess I'll see you later.
- ...Yes, see you... Mel.
Jack left their hotel room but while going through the lobby, he was held up by a woman at the reception. It was another one than the night before. He explained her who he was and told her he would be back soon. Together with some smooth talking, he could finally leave. He went to a near motorcycle shop, where he borrowed a Zero Engineering T5 Blackie, a very popular and expensive model, for a test ride. As reassurance he left behind his purse, which was enough for the owners, to give him a few hours. He put on the helmet and began driving through the city towards a specific location.
It was Saturday driving through town, on the pavement were a lot of couples going on dates and it was generally very crowded. That wasn't a real surprise, in fact it was planned, but still Jack glad he was wearing his helmet and some leather jacket he bought at a nearby shop over his business attire. Tomorrow people would know who to look out for because of the murders, him. He knew he wasn't as careful as usual with his victims this time. There must have been at least one camera that spotted him and with him drawing a lot of attention to himself because of such an expensive motorcycle, paired with the streets being crowded by people, them seeing his face would be bad news, but for that exact reason he changed his clothes. Of course he could have chosen a bike that wasn't as flashy and noticeable, but his plan was to draw as much attention as he could. He needed to leave a trail, but it couldn't be too obvious. He needed time, so they couldn't get on his trail yet.
After a while he arrived at the outskirts of the city. People were living in poverty and he could spot a lot of homeless people around him. He earned envious and hateful stares. But he already anticipated them, after all he was showing off with such an expensive motorbike. He was continuing to drive, until he arrived at the docks. He stopped to look out at the river in front of him that was wide enough to fit huge container ships that were currently being unloaded. He decided he should walk a bit, he needed to think about their next steps, and being on the docks, always helped him calm down. He casually was walking along the pier, when he finally made up his mind. Jack was planning on going home. He wasn't sure whether he should really go there or not, but in the end, he decided that he should just go for it, after all there probably was a low chance of him meeting any police or employees of Harm Inc. He walked back to his bike, to see some poor guys trying to steal it. They weren't poor because they had no money, but because Jack intended for this to happen. He needed to get out some frustration he build up about going back to his old home and those poor souls just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Jack put on his biker gloves again, and loudly cleared his throat. The three man, which all were bigger than Jack, looked straight at him. Once they noticed he was wearing a suit under his leather jacket, they started to grin.
- How stereotypical can you be...
Jack was muttering to himself, completely ignoring the fact that the three men started approaching him. Jack rotated his wrist a bit, then all of a sudden he charged at the biggest man in the middle, knocking him out with an uppercut. Before the other two could even react, he punched the one on the right straight into his guts, causing him to collapse, while Jack kicked the last one in his most private balls. It was so quick and well executed, that by the time he was done with the last one, the man in the middle hadn't even touched the ground yet. They had no chance at all.
Jack was excellent at a lot of things, not only shooting. During his training, they didn't only focus on killing people with weapons. In fact he was trained to be a multi-talented genius, from trivial matters like playing the piano, to doing parkour on top of skyscrapers, he was trained in everything that could potentially be helpful during an assassination.
With the three guys lying on the floor, one puking, one crying in pain and one not even being conscious, Jack put on his helm, go onto the motorcycle and drove away towards the old apartment his parents had left behind. It was located in an old apartment building near the docks, where not a lot of people lived. Next to it was a motel that was looking so run down, that Jack was wondering if anybody would even consider sleeping in it. This part of the city was left behind a few years back, when the mayor decided to renew a lot of the older buildings in town and so only poor people and the people working at the docks for far too less money were living here.
When Jack looked at his old home, the building that inherited 3 different apartments, from which the top one couldn't even be used because part of the roof was missing, he didn't feel any nostalgia. However he was interested if anyone would still be living on the second floor, but it didn't look like it. The one that he owned was the lowest one. You would need to go up some stairs first, because the ground level floor was dedicated to a garage that was also part of his property he inherited when his parents died all those years ago. He opened the garage with a key located under a plant pot, and stored the motorcycle there. He then went up the stairs, stopping in front of his front door. Looking down there was still the same old doormat, with the word 'Welcome!' imprinted on it, but it was so worn out, that you could barely read 'V el on e!'.
When Jack entered the apartment, he remembered when he used to play and learn in here. All the countless hours he tried to help his parents or did the chores. It was a simpler, yet more fulfilling time. Jack turned on the lights, just to see that everything was exactly like he left it. The dinner table with its tablecloth that had a flower motive, the kitchen that still had unwashed dishes in the sink, the ugly Christmas sweater Jack always hated to wear was still hanging in his wardrobe and his bed was ready to be slept in. It was as if he never left. He continued through the hallway and opened the last door, the living room. Everything was the way before the accident happened, at least that's what he wanted to say. But the armchair in which his father always used to sit was turned ever so slightly to the right. It was barely noticeable, but to Jack it was a huge change. Someone had been here, or maybe still was in here. He pulled out his gun and was sneaking around the house, checking if that person was still lurking around somewhere. After he checked every single corner of his home, he was certain that the housebreaker wasn't around anymore. However, going of the dust under the armchair was gone, so it could have only been a few days since that happened, maybe even a few hours.
Jack was about to relax, when suddenly the doorbell rang. He slowly moved towards the door, holding onto his self-made gun, ready to shoot the person behind the door. He looked through the peephole, just to realize who the one standing behind the door was.
It was the person Jack admired and despised the most simultaneously. The person who introduced him to the underworld. The person, closed to him, the man who 'adopted' him, his boss, in the underworld people gave him the nickname 'Nike's enforcer' because no one seemed to stand a chance in winning against him.
It was the director himself.