Prolouge

Prologue

    I crouched down to the floor and tried not the breathe. By now I now regretted my choice to hide here, it  seems like such an open place.

He will find you, if you keep doing this. It will happen.  My mother's words run through my head. But If I could go back I would do it again, even if I knew that he will find me someday. But who cares if he finds me, I just have to beat him. I catch myself breathing too loudly again.

The man looked straight into my face and my heart stopped.

 “I know you are there.” He was quiet, you could barely hear him, but he was matter of a fact.

He laughed at how scared I looked and lifted his face back up over the table.

The old man leaned over the table to look at the young man.

     “You Have it all planned out?” He asked.

    “Of course,” replied the young one.

    “No one else has ever gotten this far. I applaud your bravery. Several of them have ran away already. The rest didn’t make it far.They never had a chance to prove themselves as well as you.”

Now young man was pleased. His face had a little twitch of excitement on it,though you could tell he thought he was hiding his pleasure quite well.

How could the old man have gotten so far if he could not read faces? The young man was pleased, and he had a right to be, he had accomplished a task that many before him had failed at.  

He was loyal and arrogant, exactly the kind of person the old man was looking for, so unlike his successors.

They were talking again, just like they had before, and I felt a sense of anticlimax. It was just like it had been a few minutes ago. Except now James Powell knew I was here. Did I know James Powell? No. Was James Powell the old man? No. The Old man was the Old man. I just had to make sure that James Powell would not lead to the old man.

No, I did not have a problem yet. Yet.

I just had a plan to carry out. Not a Problem. Just a plan. Now think and listen to James Powell. Listen to the young man and think.

He was unlike his successors because he was skilled.

All of the cowards ran away, they ran away from power, ran away from wealth. How could anybody be so incompetent? How could you not enjoy the old man praising you? But they would never even get as far as he got. No one would ever take the opportunity.

He was ready. It bothered him that the old man did not believe he was. What did he do wrong?? He needed the man, little though he wanted to admit it.

The old  man would not last long.

The man was old and James Powell knew it.



I was getting tense and it bothers me, because now I can't think.

But it is so important for me to think, especially now.

But because I am here, I can't think

GOD! I want to scream.

I try to calm myself down. Maybe if I just breathe quietly..In.Out.In.Out.

My brain starts to clear slowly, and I start to think logicly, listening to the pattern of my breathing.

Shutting out the old man and Mr.Powell.Shutting out the problem.It works.

I look up and there he is again.

The old man’s voice is gone.

The only face I see is full of grim realization.

“Hello Mr.Vierra, how was your time under the table??”

“Mr.Powell.”






The End

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