A Problem

"There's a little problem." He said as he looked at the sightly old man in front of him. "Stan, one of my men is injured."

The head of the men who had attacked the Bensons said as he blew out the smoke that came from the cigarettes in his hand, he leaned on the wall and free arm nearest to the wall was stuffed in his pocket.

"I knew I shouldn't have hired you for this job!" The slightly old man in the room bursted out, standing abruptly and causing the chair to shift back and make a gritting noise.

The younger man raised his left eyebrow as he stood up abruptly.

The noise of the chair shifting back echoed in the room. It was an abandoned warehouse, filled with nothing but smell of dirty dust and rustiness. More frequent heavy rain and the place would be going down. He had rushed there immediately the younger man called.

"You don't talk to me like that. I just said one of my men is hurt and all your big fat lips could muster is that I messed up your stupid plan?"

He said calmly, dangerously calm.

The older man swallowed, "I paid you, alright? I paid you for this job and I don't care what happens to any of your man. All I want is that my job we-"

His talk was interrupted as the man abruptly jerked away from the wall, stood staraight and slowly advanced toward him.

The older man's breath caught. He knew he was threading on deep waters, he knew he was making him mad but he was infuriated. They had paid him a large sum for his services. Apparently, he's the best at what he does. But now he has got the whole plan messed up.

The young man advancing toward him stopped a few feets infront of him, wide legged. Even with the distance he still towered over him.

Then he said slowly, "All you care is getting your stupid plan executed perfectly?" He continued with his teeth clenched, "Why then did you not tell me there was a fucking child in the picture?!"

"Shit! Pamela has messed up plans." He thought as he looked at the man towering over him, he seem angry.

He looked away, "because she's wasn't relevant. Pamela is just a baby plus she was supposed to be in school around the time I asked you to go." He looked up at him, "You prolly went too early".

"Don't question my values you old dumb! You still should have told me there was a fucking kid. That stupid child hit my man and he's been unconscious since then!" He spat in his face.

"Oh, his men must really mean a lot to him," he observed.

"I'm sorry about your man, I really am. But you should have killed the girl. One hit to the head would have done it." He shrugged.

"Look, old man-"

"I'm not old!" he said getting riled up.

He smiled wickedly and repeated, "listen, old man," he raised his eyebrow, daring him to say a word. He only a povked his hands and cleared his throat nervously, he smirked then he continued, "I may be a f**king killer, but I kill no child, ait? I don't murder children."

"Then you need to go learn more about your profession because killers excempt no one. You are lacking so much knowledge I'd you still do that." He said shifting back a little.

The young man looked at him, long and hard, pocketed his hands again, "I expect to receive a smooth and complete notification of my balance by the end of the day," he said simply and turned to walk away.

The older man quickly dragged him back, gently.

"Okay. I'm sorry, okay?," He looked at him, "I'm sorry, but the daughter saw you and she is still out there somewhere. It's dangerous. I know Pamela, she may be sweet and babyish and all but she is smart, really smart. And she wouldn't rest until she gets to the root of this."

"She seemed like the determined type," the younger man observed stroking his full facial hair.

"How did you lose her?"

He shrugged, "she fooled one of my men, injured him and ran out through her window."

"Your men are weak ane lacking," the older man inserted earning a glare from the young man.

Nevertheless, he continued, " We went after her and she ran to a river deep in the woods. Before then, she had been shot in the arm and then she got shot in the leg and fell into the river."

The older man hit his right fisted hand on his left open palm, "shit! Pam is like a fish. She loves the water and she is a very good swimmer."

One of his shoulder went up a little in an half shrug, "well, some of my men lunged in and searched. But they couldn't find any trace of her." He looked directly at the man he was speaking with, "It was like she was never in the river."

"Do you think she's dead?" He asked, hoping he would reassure him that she might be dead.

"She might be and she might not. You just said it, she is a good swimmer. She might have skillfully swam her way out but the shots were pretty bad and so she also might have just sinked into a pit or something. A pit we didn't see."

He sighed, going to sit back in the rusted chair he was sitting on before he stood up.

"Nooo. This is bad. Really bad," he tapped his index finger on the small table, thinking. "You did what I asked you to do, right?"

"Of course, it's perfect. They look like they planned their death. All finger prints have been removed and the police was called."

"Good," he nod his head again. "Now it's left with me to cook up a believable cock and bull story and feed to the media."

The younger man nodded his head, standing as straight as a manequin, hands still in his pocket.

"You'll still need to find the girl. Even if it requires that I pay more then so be it. Find her and kill her."

"I've told you, I don't murder kids," he enunciated the last part carefully like he was speaking to a child.

"What then are you going to do to her? Look at her with puppy dog eyes and tell her she's adorable and then tell her how sorry you are for killing her parents?"

The older man wondered aloud.

He looked at him with sizzling anger.

"Whe-" he paused for a few seconds, "if we find the girl, I'll bring her to you and you can do whatever you wish to do with her. It's no more my business from there."

"Let's get out of here." He said to the man that seem to have been standing in a corner of the room.

"Probably his righthand man, his favourite," he scrutinized the both of them as they both walked out with their shoulders high in the air.

He squeezed his face unadmiringly, and said to himself, "he's just a douchebag".

He looked on then rested his head on the back of the chair he was sitting on. He sighed heavily, he knew he was going to demand for more money when the girl is found.

He tapped on his phone severally, twirling it on the crooked table before calmly picking it up and dialing a number, a number he has been dialling more often recently.

"Hello?" He said to the other person at the end of the line.

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At the house of Mr and Mrs Benson.

A lot of activities were going on as alot of people moved about, the superiors yelling out instructions to their surbodinates.

The glaring yellow of the do-not-cross tape was glaring as everyone moved about hastily; paramedics, detectives, police, doctors.They were all there.

The siren of another police car sounded from afar.

A sleek black car parked at the far end of the road. In it were three men, and they all looked towards the house.

Suddenly, one of the three men groaned, and said with annoyance, "are you kidding me?! More of those are coming?"

Another chuckled, "what do you think? They're the Bensons. Almighty Bensons," then he pointed towards the house, "look at the tape, the do-not-cross tape, it seems brighter than usual. It's just his nature, he's unconsciously always different, uniquely."

The first man that talked said, smiling, "that's why he had to go. He unconsciously manifested his own death."

They both chuckled.

The third man who has said nothing ever since the car ride began to when it stopped. He has just been observing, as usual.

He rolled up the window and said, "let's get this over with, shall we?" And so he drove up the road to the house.