Chapter Five : Why Her?

Los Angelos, USA

August 2016

Lynn Vandestine 

He enters in this long building. 

The building is cloud-kissing, like it was built to stand with pride. He's feeling a bit tired because of the five hour driving, yet he can't avoid the anger in his mind.

The sexy black receptionist in the desk, Landy Keller, smiles sweetly after seeing him.

"Handsome boy, long time no see!" She pouts playfully. "Where have you been? Oh, my mistake. Of course, you had work, didn't you?"

Lynn puts his elbows on the mahogany desk, no mood in flirting with her. "Yeah, I had. Can I see Chief now?"

"Um__Chief's not here, Agent Stanley." Her smile immediately drops, smoothing her curly hair nervously. 

"Landy, it's important." He ignores her, briskly stepping front to the elevator.

"No," she grips his hand tightly. "I'm saying it again, Chief's not here and you can't go in without an appointment. Now step aside."

Lynn examines her stern expression.

He starts to laugh. "Ha ha. What will you do if I don't step aside? Can I know?"

"Lynn, don't be like this."

"Like what?"

Landy releases his hand, scowling, wondering what's wrong with him. "If you don't leave now," she takes a deep breath and opens a drawer from her side. "Then you don't imagine what'll happen, Lynn."

She points a gun at him.

"A Glock 26?" he laughs again, although he can't deny that he's a bit surprised. He walked slowly towards her, not a little bit afraid. 

"They told you to stop me, didn't they?" he asks softly, turning from the desk, a feet away from her.

Her hand is trembling, but she keeps pointing at him. "I'm sorry. But don't come near."

"Go on. Shoot me then." He says normally. 

"What?" She frowns, breathing hard.

"Shoot me. Do your job."

She stares at him unblinking, trying to understand him.

"You never killed a man, Landy."

"I didn't. But I could." She exhales sharply. 

"No, you couldn't." He shakes his head, watching her face. "You're not capable of killing someone, trust me. You don't support violence in your mind. Your conscience fights with you, right?" 

She swallows hard, sweating. 

"There's nobody in this floor. But you can't kill me, because you know, what you've been ordered to do, is a very evil thing, right?"

She looks at the gun, scared and hesitant. 

"And deep down in your mind, you also know that God will punish you if you shoot me."

She bites her bottom lip.

"Do the right thing, Landy Keller."

She eventually puts the gun down. 

"Sometimes it's easy to kill a person who you don't really know well. But I knew you wouldn't shoot me."

"Leave then." She speaks harshly. 

"But I didn't say that I wouldn't shoot you." He pulls out his revolver from his holster. "Landy Keller. I don't know you well, remember?"

Landy gasps, quickly reaching to grab her gun, but he already has it. "You bastard! You manipulated me!" She reaches to hit him.

"You're damn right," Lynn points two guns at her chest. "Too slow, too late. But you still want to hit me? Go on."

She glares at him, nostrils swelling with anger and contempt. "How can you?"

"We're wasting our time, Ms. Keller," he waves the guns impatiently. "Now be a good girl and give me your ID card." He put the Glock in his pocket, he's better with his gun.

She takes the card of from her collar. 

"Good girl, aren't you?" he takes the ID card and moves to the elevator. "Now open it."

She presses her thumb on the machine beside the door, it immediately scans her fingerprint and identity. 

"They will kill you, you know." Landy says quietly, tilting her brown eyes to him.

"They won't." He examines the corridor. 

"I gave you a chance. To leave."

"You also pointed a gun at me."

"You still can leave, Lynn."

The elevator door opens.

"I will see you twenty minutes later." He steps in. "Then I'll give you back your little gun."

"Lynn, please." Landy pleads. "Don't die."

"Oh, another thing," he playfully speaks, folding the sleeve of his coat. "I wouldn't die even if you shot me, baby. See, this is polyethylene armor. Enough to block your little nine mm caliber bullet."

"What?" She exclaims. 

"Got you!" He laughs, presses the button.

The door swiftly closes. 

• • • • • • •

When he reaches to the seventy-eighth floor, he sends his revolver back to the pocket. It wasn't a good idea to show them it, since there are many people. 

He takes a sharp breath. 

He walks out from the elevator, every nerve of his body aware of that he's not welcome here.

"Agent Stanley," a senior agent named John Lewis approaches to him, looking warily. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to meet with Chief."

"But__" he puts his combat hand on his holster. "Chief's not here."

"I know he's here. It's important, John."

Agent Lewis hears to something through his Airpods, then looks at him.

"You can go. Don't make any trouble."

"Sure thing." Lynn quickly walks forward to the Chief's room. There are his two bodyguards, standing in front of the door.

They immediately pull out their guns.

"Chief agreed to meet me, guys." He speaks harshly. "Let me enter in."

Again, they hear something in their Airpods and mutter, "Yes, sir!" and move aside.

Lynn opens the door.

Well, it was easy.

    Chief Malum Feingold tilts his gaze from the computer, raising eyebrows funnily. There is another person in the room, Chief's brother, Reggae Feingold, a long face with two black cold eyes. He's thin like a snake, head full with red hairs, but when you look at his white face, it seems like he's not alive. 

The Feingold Brothers. 

Another definition of evil, apparently. 

"Welcome, you clandestine Vandestine!" Chief Malum smiles largely. "Didn't know you were alive, boy. It's a relief to see you."

Vice Chief Reggae gives him a cold stare.

As usual.

"I prefer my mother's surname. Stanley."

"Oh that. Right, rightey. My mistake!"

"Heard you didn't want to see me." Lynn sits on a chair, clenching his teeth. 

"Oh, you seem angry." Chief presses his palm against his jaw. "Yeah, I didn't want to see you. What you did to the Joseon family__you scared me." He pretends to be afraid. 

"Ow, really? Maybe another Chief Malum exists, who told me to finish them," he scoffs. 

"You blew that whole house with nitric acid, Agent Stanley." Vice Chief speaks for the fast time to him, without looking at him, reading a blue covered file with great attention. 

"What could you do without a gun, huh?"

"You could do worse."

Lynn sighs. Is this man really human?

Chief clears his throat. "Earlier I thought I was watching a movie on Netflix."

"Except it was real. Can you enlighten me about that what was that about? Did you give Landy a job to show her cleavage and flirt with every guy, so no one would ever know that it's fake investigation company? That nobody will reveal the truth about The Conditorem?"

Vice Chief throws the file on the table.

"Why did you come here, Lynn?"

He inhales deeply to calm himself. 

"What have you done to Sam?"

Chief Malum uncomfortably starts to tap his fingers on the table, looking at his brother. 

Vice Chief laughs. A laugh without life.

"Your girl didn't tell you? Of course, she didn't. Why would she want to tell you, anyway? She doesn't know who you are, you're just a new dumb kid from Canada, who she did a favor showing a cool lake and made out with him." He turns to him, speaking in a normal voice.

They followed them there?

Lynn clenches his fists hard.

"Lynn, I forgot how was your first day of senior year. How does it feel to go back to school?" Chief whistles. "When you're twenty-four years old? Pretty good, eh?"

"Yeah. Exactly like you." He mimics him, then turns to Vice Chief. "I want answers."

"It's not a big deal. Sam's psychiatrist confirmed that she has PTSD." Chief replies instead of his brother. 

"What?" Lynn yells.

"Listen to Malum, boy." The cold brother coldly exhales. "It's not a big deal. Just a disease."

"You're lying." He looks at him with disbelief. 

Vice Chief shakes his head. "No, I'm not. Why do you think she didn't recognize you? Why did she have those flashbacks? Because you showed up, Lynn."

"No," he breathes heavily. 

"You showed up almost three years later."

"I had to see her! I love her!" Lynn says crazily. 

"Yes," Vice Chief nods. "But you caused her pain. Her friends didn't recognize you, because you had a plastic surgery on your face. You changed your hairstyle, your walking style. But a part of her will always know who you were, what you did to her."

"I didn't do anything to her!" He stands up, sweating, eyes widening with shock. 

"Yes, you did. We said we would take care of Sam, now we're doing her a caring favor."

Vice Chief stands up too, a twisted smile appears in the corner of his mouth, he moves his face to Lynn, inches from his.

"Now we're erasing her memories. No Lynn. No pain. No trouble." He grimaces devilishly. 

"What? No, you can't do that."

"All started because of you, Lynn. She's suffering because of you. Let her go."

"I didn't do anything bad." He shouts.

"Yes, you did," he whispers. "You ruined her."

"I didn't!"

"You tell yourself. But you did, Lynn." He snarls. "Look at the mirror. Ask yourself."

He turns to the mirror beside him. His own reflection. 

Wait, where's he?

"Nothing's here." He whispers, touching the glass. There's nothing.

"You're nothing." A scary whisper floated in the wind, haunting him.

No, this can't be true. No way. It's all lies.

He grasps his head hard, shutting his eyes. 

Then, he screams.