Visions Vol. II

He just heard the news. As he sat quietly in his office, it slowly started to trickle into the crevices of his mind. He didn't know when it would really hit him. He lay back in his chair and just looked at the pictures on the wall. He had sent everyone home and the office was dim. Pondering his next move he took a sip of his drink and lit himself a cigar.

He worked so hard to make sure something like this would never happen. Right now he wasn't angry or scared. He was as calm as the ocean and yet in the back of his mind wheels were turning. He tried to calculate in cold blood what he would do next.

He had so many experiences under his belt. They took their toll on his face and he stared at the three ice cubes floating peacefully in his glass. He closed his eyes and just listened to the emptiness as the static from his computer screen fought off the darkness.

It took a while for him to get out his own mind. He'd gotten so used to watching others and setting traps for them to fall in. Its been a while since he had to calculate on his own behalf. The walls he'd built around his own fortress seemed impenetrable. Ever since he was a child he knew how people fell into traps and he made sure it never happened to him or those he cared about. In fact he made it his business - he was damn good at it too.

The price he demanded from those he loved was loyalty. There was no saying as to what would happen to those who crossed him. He wasn't an angry man but he was what people would call ruthless. The lack of grey in his decisions limited the situations he would have to deal with. The grandfather clock in the hall ticked mid-night and he took a deep breathe. It seemed like this would be yet another night in the office and he didn't mind. Lately his office became more and more like his home. Knowing himself he had taken the precaution of having everything he needed so that he would never have to leave. Though this was not necessary to his lifestyle it certainly was better. With all the emotions he dealt with from his clients and their enemies it was inevitable to maintain being cool and composed. It worked best in an environment he could control.

He poured himself another drink and pondered in detail what he would do. Secrecy was the best course of action at this point. No one must know, he knew how to keep the ones he wanted silent. Some owed him their lives and he'd make sure they knew that they depended on him. His mind drifted once again and he thought of his son. Subconsciously his hand moved over his forearm and the markings he etched there in testament to the birth of his heirs.

It was never good to think about the past, in this case he couldn't help it though. The soft smell of the bourbon in his glass and the warmth of his chambers brought him back to the days when he was schooled under the hands of his father. The rules were simple and they were the same ones he would give his son when he would come of age. It was never a good idea to talk. People had to be baited and surely their insecurities would come out. With the poker face he inherited from his father, concealing his thoughts was natural. In their private dealings his father molded his mind into what it should be when constructing thoughts and making plans. Power as it was revealed was not in having it, but in rejecting it to slowly pull the strings unnoticed. Subtlety was an art and his father made sure he passed on its mastery before he himself was to pass.

He slowly brought himself to reality, there was much to do and he could not afford to dwell any longer. He called his house and instructed his son on what to do. Time was of the essence and all the potential holes in his ship had to be sealed. As he heard Adam pick up the phone he felt his heart melt. There was no time to think and no space to contemplate if he was being hard on the boy. Through all the years spent learning how to control his outward appearance he sounded like he always did. He told his son what to do in his usual need to know basis and closed the phone knowing that was all that was needed to be said. When Adam would reach the mental age of understanding, all the family secrets would be revealed. As of now however he was on probation and Adam knew it. Like his father, he was bred for success and there was no room for failure. The family business was understood.

As he reached for his contact book to make some more calls, his phone rang. He looked at the caller display and knew this would only serve to complicate things. He answered, and as the caller delved more into details, he felt his plans mold themselves more and more in the line of his own questioning. There was little time to act, but as usual failure was not an option...