"So this is what you've become?! A local grease monkey?!" Silas screamed, the veins in his neck bulging like thick cords. He looked like he was vibrating with pure, unadulterated rage. If he could, he would have strangled Tobias right there in the parking lot and dragged his body back to headquarters by his white ponytail. But Silas wasn't suicidal. He knew that trying to force Tobias Sunset was a quick way to end up in a body bag.
"Sigh... Today was a good day. I actually made some decent cash," Tobias said, a genuine, happy glow on his face as he counted the crumpled bills in his hand. He smoothed them out with the same care he used to use when cleaning shell casings.
Silas watched him, his anger slowly cooling into a cold, sharp bitterness. He straightened his blue jacket and adjusted his posture, regaining his "elite" composure. "I get it now. You've done a masterful job hiding your tracks, Senior. You disappeared into the mundane. But I have to say... you're a letdown. To me, and to everyone who whispered your name in the dark, you are a massive disappointment."
Tobias didn't even flinch. He just pocketed his money and turned to walk back toward the shop.
"Mom! Look! It's that pervert from earlier!" a high-pitched voice rang out. It was the elementary school boy from the shop, pointing a finger directly at Silas. "He's still hanging around like a creep!"
"HUH?! I told you, I am not a pervert! I am an operative!" Silas screamed back, his cool facade shattering for the tenth time that hour. He turned on his heel, ready to storm off to his car before he lost any more dignity.
"Wait," Tobias called out.
Silas froze. A spark of hope lit up in his chest. This is it, he thought. The '001' is coming back. He's going to tell me he's bored of this life. He's going to ask for a rifle and a mission. Silas slowly turned around, a smug, knowing smirk forming on his lips. "Yes? Finally realized you can't live without the adrenaline, Senior?"
"You haven't paid for the soda," Tobias said, holding out an open palm.
"Huh?" Silas blinked, the smirk vanishing.
"The soda you took from my hand earlier. And the chips. This is a business, Silas. No freebies for 'operatives.'"
Silas stood in a dazed, dumbfounded state for several seconds. With a trembling hand, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a few coins, and slammed them into Tobias's hand. Tobias received them with a look of pure, unadulterated joy, as if he had just won the lottery.
Silas walked to his car in a trance. He sat in the driver's seat, staring through the windshield at the "SUNSET: Jack of All Trades" sign. It's been over four years, he thought. And he's really like this now. He's a total letdown... but damn, he's still awesome. He couldn't help but smile as he remembered the way Tobias had moved the precision, the speed, the way he fixed three cars in the time it took a normal person to open the hood.
"Mom, that man is smiling to himself. Is he okay?" a little boy asked as he walked past the car.
"Don't look, sweetie!" the mother whispered, covering the boy's eyes and quickening her pace. "Keep walking. Avoid the lunatic."
Silas didn't even notice. He was lost in his own fantasies of the "Old Days" until a sharp ping from his phone snapped him back to reality. The screen glowed with a high-priority encrypted message.
[BOSS]: Report. Were you able to convince and recruit him? [SILAS]: Well... no. I wasn't able to tell him. [BOSS]: Then you did what was necessary? [SILAS]: Boss... do we really have to kill him? [BOSS]: Yes. The board has decided. A retired asset of his level is a liability we cannot afford. [SILAS]: Come on, Boss. There's no need. Senior Sunset is rusty. He's a civilian. He's obsessed with cream puffs and online ratings. He won't be a threat to us anymore.
The phone didn't buzz with a text this time. It erupted into a ringing call. Silas took a deep breath and answered.
"Silas," the Boss's voice was like grinding stones, cold and ancient. "He broke the rules. He vanished with a billion dollars' worth of intellectual property in his head. He knew the punishment for desertion before he ever stepped onto that plane. If you can't do it, I will simply send a replacement. You said you were the only one who could find him. That is why I sent you."
"I... I heard you," Silas said, his voice dropping an octave. "I'll handle it."
He hung up and gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. "If I don't do it, they'll send a cleanup crew. They'll burn the whole block down just to get to him. His sister, the kid... everyone. I don't have a choice."
Silas drove away from the shop, his eyes reflecting in the rearview mirror no longer the goofy "pervert" Tobias had teased, but a man with a job to do. He stopped at a quiet roadside restaurant, bought a quick meal, and headed to a grimy motel on the outskirts of Velanor.
Inside the dim room, he spread out his gear. He pulled out a tablet and pulled up a digital file. It was a "Death List" updated in real-time. At the very top, highlighted in a blood-red border, was a photo of Tobias.
TARGET: 001 - THE GHOST (TOBIAS SUNSET) TERMINATION AUTHORIZED
Silas began his preparations, cleaning his sidearm with mechanical movements. He checked his magazines and sharpened his tactical knife. The lightheartedness of the morning was gone, replaced by the grim shadow of "Operation Extermination."
OVERVIEW: Capture no longer an option. Kill on sight. No mercy.
Silas looked at the photo of Tobias smiling with his sister. "Sorry, Tobi," he whispered, clicking the safety on his gun. "But the world won't let a ghost stay dead."