Jack Avery is a very special kind of man. He ran the London Trials in a little under an hour, became an expert marksman in his class, and is all-around one of the highest-marked agents in his field. Currently, his head cinches forward from the odd way his chair is leaned back and spits on the floor I just swept. His feet are cuffed at the ankles in metal shackles and strapped to the foot rests. The chair itself came secondhand from an orthodontist practice that was shutting down back on the mainland. I tore away the horrible mint-green leather because frankly it wasn't the least bit horrifying to look at. I would have had it reupholstered in, I dunno, white or something but let's be honest: this is the basement torture room, not the one next to the anteroom a few floors up. It just wouldn't look the part. His hands are strapped behind him away from my sight because I still want him to give me hope.
"I know everything, Kondor. Bombay, Trinidad, Oslo... You've left a trail of dead right to your doorstep. Did you think I wouldn't find you?"
God, what a man. He's one of the smartest people I've ever met but he still talks like a movie star in his first feature film. I laid the clues out so only he could find me. I didn't want one of the Agency's several other agents to make the hunt. You don't build a relationship that way. This was meant for him.
"I suppose I didn't think you were stupid enough to try, Mr. Avery." Insult his intelligence like every time. Like it's the last time. Give him an empty threat. "And now you'll die for your contemptuousness." I have a word a day I'm supposed to use. I don't think I used it right.
Avery is a man I should hate. He destroys my facilities, leaves my henchmen broken, and my wives loved. All around the world I have concubines to get rid of my jet lag and run me a bath. And Avery has screwed almost every one of them. They mean nothing to me, to be honest. There were a few I thought I loved, but really they were all for him. It's a game, y'know? They're all trained to kill him in his sleep, too. One nearly did. Rarely any try anymore. I suppose the game got stale, the story too predictable.
"I've fought all over the world, Kondor. Been tortured in most. There's nothing you can do I haven't already felt in Kuwait."
Avery starts to name the countries that still have pieces of him somewhere in their dirt. He says them with a bit of pride, I think. Anyway, I eventually got women I knew he'd like. Not necessarily as a trap, but because I thought he'd be a little more appreciative.
"Iraq."
That one that almost killed him? I mean she was really close. They're only supposed to poison him, hope the drug takes affect though it never does. This woman got impatient, decided to open Avery's throat with one of those things you use to pry the staples out of old documents.
"Belarus."
Really scarred his good looks. I had the bitch put down. That kind of blind, animalistic behavior really sickens me. There's just no tact in an assault like that.
"Bosnia."
"You were in Bosnia?" I can't remember what I was doing before he mentioned the name. Usually I tinker with a bunch of fluids I have held in different test tubes off to the side like I'm preparing a poison, but really I just listen.
I set down my mixture of lemon juice and Gatorade. "I didn't know you were in Bosnia, Avery. I was, too." I've taken him out of the moment. He's at a loss just like I. He tells a fib to try and get the story going but unlike him I'm actually interested.
"B-Bet you were selling guns to terrorists at a younger age, weren't you? I bet--"
"Oh stop, you're being offensive. I fought with a mercenary group paid by a NATO official who wanted to skip the beurocracy and get something done. No, we were there for peace talks."
Avery tips his head slightly to one side. He might be trying to find a better way to crane his neck to look at me against the rough metal lining of the dentist chair. But I think he's showing interest. "I was... I was assigned to push back forces across Sniper Alley. I was there during the Siege of Sarajavo."
My eyes fall somewhat to the floor, the memories hanging heavy in front of me. "I got there just after that. The amount of children I saw running around aimless was just--"
"Then why are you selling weapons?"
What do I tell him? 'Because this is all a game?' No. Because Bosnia is how I learned furthering myself from the frontlines is the best therapy I have. And honestly, the best way to secure your place away from the battle is to go searching for your own and focus on that.
"Because Bosnia is where I learned where the money all comes from, Avery," I lie as I pluck his pen from out of his shirt pocket and stir my test tube cocktail. His eyes go somewhat wide. Maybe what I said really hit home for him. Jesus, it was supposed to be a stupid comment not-- Shit! The pen! That was how he was going to escape! God, you never know what mundane items they think their agents will need back at the Agency. I swear to God, if an agent lost his shoes it could end up costing the lives of thousands of civilians somehow.
I take the pen out of the drink, hoping it didn't fry any of the circuits or whatever. I toss the pen on Avery's chest, knowing it'll somehow end up in his hands and free him from the rope. "Here. Maybe you can fashion yourself an obituary." Hey, that was kind of funny. I'm somewhat proud of myself. I take another test tube from the junior science kit it came from and saunter towards him. "Here's a little something to turn you from the living legend you think you are... into just a legend." I kick myself over that one. I wrench my fingers around his cheeks and purse his lips as he struggles his best to turn his head away. The mixture of salt water and ginger ale spills over his jaw, and I laugh not at his demise, but at how he looks in this moment. As I leave the room, I realize he took the time to shave.
Twelve minutes pass and the alarm goes off, making me spill a little coffee on the sudoku page I'm failing at. I set the mug back on my desk and wait for the intercom to click on. They tell me Avery has escaped, and is somewhere in the underground research facility. I press the button that allows my voice to be heard through the entire island.
"Don't let him get to the helicopter on the roof! It'll lead him straight to the mainland!" But of course, Jack Avery can't get a hint, and he opts to dive off the harbor and swim to the mainland instead. If the sharks don't bite at him, his contemptuousness will.
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