Sam Tank looked as his reflection
in the mirror. He adjusted his tie and smoothed out the fit of his suit. He was
smiling; his reflection wasn’t – it was not part of his demeanour to reveal a
true emotion. Each expression was a construct of his will and a tool of
manipulation. Like a method actor he found it fitting not to let the facade
down in between scenes, and coming off the interview with Tony Holdsworth he
knew there would be a slew of attempts to gain his opinion from the journalist
body. He would give them a soft smile; a warm ambience; he would break them
through patience and earnest sense of duty, all the while reinforcing his
message, and guiding them to their next conclusive headlines. People like Brian
Smithwaite would dictate a headline; Sam would orchestrate one.
The door to his dressing room
opened aggressively. Tony Holdsworth came in like a domesticated bear, or an
overgrown Labrador, looking to slobber his affection in hugs and kisses – Tony
did not know the full boundaries of the game.
“Sammy!” he said, with a
buddy-esque gravel to his voice. He reminded Sam of Boss when he was younger,
over excited at the success of a powerplay. Sam reciprocated the sentiment,
keeping Tony in his vulnerable comfort zone. “We fucking knocked that one out
of the park, Sammy!”
“I think we had them before you
even finished your monologue.” Sam replied enthusiastically. It was important
to let them think you were on the same level, any condescension would make it
clear that you do not value them – he had perhaps condescended Boss earlier
than he would have liked. But Boss would have seen it all tonight anyway; Sam
was awaiting the retaliation eagerly. He expected Boss to be thuggish and
overt, but expectations always required caution. He re-centred his focus on
Tony. “I would suggest we go and celebrate with a drink but of course you can’t
do that.”
“Ha!” Tony burst out, verbalising
his laugh, “Yeah sobriety is a great until it’s time to enjoy yourself.” He put
his arm around Sam’s shoulders like two friend’s who had just scaled a mountain
and were enjoying the view, “but thanks to your wisdom I’ve been able to
rediscover what enjoyment really is: Hard work and doing what you love. No need
for the booze and pills.”
Sam took in the view with his
partner – he would have preferred not to have the sweat-stained arm between
them but it was important not to take this away from Tony just yet. It was also
comforting to hear Tony’s faith being pledged in such a genuine form. He had
thought perhaps Tony was aware of the final veil, but he still appeared to be
staring out over the mountain vista with an impaired vision. Tony had
discovered a strength and happiness – if that is what it is wished to be called
– but it still only arrived through a co-dependence, a belief in Sam’s words.
His foundation was still not his, he was only able to borrow it, and his debt
was building.
“Well we gotta get back out there
and face the maggots, right?” Tony said, still buoyed by pure self worth.
“Let’s finish the job!”
Sam’s phone rang. “After you,
buddy, I’ll be right out.” Tony left the dressing room, his Labrador entrance
topped by his puppy-like exit. Sam felt a little embarrassed. He answered his
phone, it was his contact from the agents centre, the Boss-titled “Cit
Soldiers.”
“Sir, Walter escaped.” He said
bluntly, pausing a moment. Sam let it go, preferring to hear the explanation
before revealing any response. The agent continued confidently, “Coulter and
Steyne were there to escort him the Towers, but they reported that Dr Blues
arrived claiming she was in on the whole operation and was to escort Walter
herself.”
“And they let her go.” Sam stated,
not hiding the sarcasm in his disappointment.
“Correct.”
It was an interesting idea that
Lucy would step back into the picture like this. She apparently could not keep
running as was so often her wont. More intriguing still was the manner of her
actions. The rigid thought patterns of an agent is not easily coerced, and Sam
never took Lucy for one to hold the sort of devious cunning to pull off such a
manoeuvre. He felt a spike in his pulse. “Leave it for now. Do what is
necessary with Coulter and Steyne.” Sam said with finality.
“Sir.” The agent cut in quickly.
Sam again waited without speaking. “The order came through from Boss.”
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