Chapter 70: Eddie's Awakening and Psychologist Turing (5000 words) (Page 1/2)
The three of them quickly found a building with a wide view near the target location.
Following the discussion they had on the way,
Reese and McCall would provide overwatch from the elevated position, and the actual negotiation was left to David.
As for the signal, as long as David gave an 'OK' gesture, they would shoot everyone present except David and Eddie.
After the two were in position, David, wearing a bulletproof vest under his suit, casually walked into the alley in this run-down neighborhood.
In this dark, foul-smelling alley with no surveillance cameras, a group of people led by a street boss were warming themselves by a trash barrel fire.
The dim light produced by the burning barrel illuminated the dark alley just enough to see.
And Eddie was tied up spread-eagle with wire to a chain-link fence on the side.
Looking at the deep red marks on Eddie's wrists and ankles, Eddie had been restrained for quite some time.
"Yo, you Eddie's boy? You bring the pills?"
The bald man with a gold tooth shining and a scar across his brow bone clapped his hands and stood up from a milk crate.
As he stood up, his crew members also stood up and struck matches, throwing them on the ground.
With a whoosh.
A ring of accelerant ignited around them.
The sudden bright light made David squint to adapt to the sudden change in brightness.
At the same time, he also saw more details because of the light, such as an electrical cable connected to the chain-link fence restraining Eddie.
The bald man was fiddling with a palm-sized remote control in his hand.
It was obvious that the fence could become electrified at any moment, which meant that Eddie's life was literally in his hands.
Hearing the commotion, Eddie, who hadn't had water in hours, raised his head somewhat dazedly, revealing a face that had been severely beaten—one that even friends would hardly recognize.
"David... (Save me)"
David shook his head—it seemed that after saving Eddie, he would have to take him to a dentist.
"Yo, our boss is talking to you, what you thinking about, pretty boy?
You want to feel these knuckles like your friend did?"
Seeing that David hadn't responded, the thugs, emboldened by their boss's presence, showed off the brass knuckles on their hands, and slowly approached with malicious grins.
They deliberately slowed down the process, allowing David to clearly see the bloodstained spikes on the brass knuckles.
To let David know how many people they'd beaten before, so that he would cry and beg for mercy with a panicked expression.
This was their favorite part.
Watching the privileged grovel before them would undoubtedly bring a sense of superiority to these street-level criminals.
These well-dressed, polite members of society were nothing more than scared puppies in front of them.
However, what made them wonder was why, even now, the guy in front of them could be so calm?
Was he really... not afraid?
Facing the two thugs who were closing in on him, David smiled indifferently—he seemed to have overestimated the situation.
It seemed that these guys were indeed just the lowest level of street criminals, with no real backing to speak of.
Even if the bald man took NZT, due to his limited intelligence and knowledge base, he didn't realize how dangerous Eddie's connections were.
Or perhaps it was Eddie's poor performance that made the bald man underestimate Eddie's associates as well.
Then the problem was simple.
"Don't move. Of course I brought the stuff—if you've got the balls to take it."
David said as he made an 'OK' gesture.
Hearing David's words and seeing the strange 'OK' gesture, the bald man instantly sensed something was wrong, and he immediately moved to press the switch in his hand to electrocute the hostage.
But the next second, a muffled gunshot rang out.
The bald man's hand holding the remote control was shattered along with the bone and fell to the ground.
At the same time as the agonized scream sounded, a fatal hole appeared in the forehead of the crew member who had been holding a gun and staying vigilant.
This sudden gunshot made the two thugs in front of David instinctively duck and look up, trying to find the sniper's position.
But they soon realized they shouldn't have done that.
Taking their eyes off David was the last mistake they made in their lives.
David, who was in everyone's blind spot, unhurriedly drew the suppressed Glock from his waistband, and even had time to carefully aim at the heads of the two people in front of him.
Pfft! Pfft!
Two quiet gunshots rang out, and both men dropped to the ground.
Eddie, tied to the chain-link fence, felt as if he were in a dream.
In a daze, the group of thugs who had captured him all went down?
He had only seen David fire two shots, but four people fell?
Eddie, without the NZT enhancement, truly couldn't comprehend the scene in front of him.
He only felt that his brain was foggy, and he was still in a state of confusion until David untied him and placed the Glock, which still had residual warmth from firing, into his hand.
David pointed at the bald man who was still rolling on the ground clutching his shattered wrist and said:
"Now, finish him."
Eddie trembling raised the gun—the feeling now was completely different from when he had planned Pete's staged accident with the NZT enhancement.
He couldn't be absolutely calm, and it was difficult to shoot someone who had already lost the ability to resist.
Not to mention that his shot would send the person in front of him to the grave.
Even though this person had tortured and humiliated him repeatedly, he still found it difficult to pull the trigger.
After aiming for a long time, Eddie finally couldn't bring himself to do it, sighed, lowered the gun, and said incoherently:
"Let him go, he's suffered enough."
David shook his head—Eddie without NZT was indeed pathetically weak.
David took out an NZT pill from his pocket and tossed it over:
"It seems you need a little help."
Eddie, who clumsily caught the NZT, looked at the transparent little pill with longing in his eyes.
But he was still hesitating. Even with his impaired judgment right now, he understood that in that enhanced state, he would definitely be able to do what needed to be done.
And what needed to be done was to pull the trigger to finish off the bald man in front of him, thus completely binding himself to David's team.
Looking at Eddie, who was still hesitating, David couldn't help but sigh:
"If you can't even do this, how can you get the freedom and money you want?
You don't even have the ability to protect what you care about. Think carefully about this—I'll wait for you at the alley entrance.
Whether to kill or let go, it's all up to you to decide."
After saying that, David stepped out of the fire ring and walked towards the brightly lit street outside the alley.
Just as David was about to step out of the alley, a quiet gunshot finally came from behind, followed by a series of rapid, angry gunshots.
David smiled—being able to shoot so emotionally showed that Eddie had made a decision without taking NZT.
Now it was time for Eddie to say goodbye to his past weakness.
Otherwise, David wouldn't have minded leaving one more corpse in the alley.
David found the 'cleanup' phone number in his contacts and ordered service for four.
When Eddie walked out of the alley with faltering steps,
A black van with the words 'Professional Cleaning Services' painted on it pulled up at the alley entrance.
Four tall and burly 'cleaners' carrying various equipment got out of it.
And the person who got out of the driver's seat was a short old man wearing a black bowler hat and a black leather jacket.
Although he was short and elderly, he had a certain gravitas about him.
At least the other four waited for him to walk ahead before following.
It was clear that this old man was the leader of this cleanup crew.
When the little old man walked up to David, he very gentlemanly removed his bowler hat and bowed slightly to David.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. David. I'm Charlie.
Given that this is your first time using the cleanup service, I would like to remind you again.
The price for four cleanups is four gold coins. Do you confirm that you want to use the service?"
David nodded:
"Confirmed."
Charlie smiled slightly, pointed into the alley with the hand holding the hat, and the four people carrying equipment walked inside expressionlessly.
Then Charlie turned the bowler hat upside down, and David dropped in four gold coins.
Charlie put on his hat with satisfaction.
"Then, Mr. David, I wish you good fortune. Until next time."
Eddie looked at the crew entering in shock, and after a long while, he asked:
"What do they do?"
"Clean up the scene. Make people disappear."
Before the unenhanced Eddie could digest this information, David continued:
"Take the NZT. It's too much effort to talk to you like this."
Eddie gave a wry smile. Honestly, he also felt pretty stupid at the moment.
What should have been understood instantly now felt like looking at everything through a fog.
Without NZT, he really was nothing.
Eddie quickly accepted the fact that he was useless, so he swallowed the NZT in his hand.
It didn't matter that he was useless—NZT could transform him.
As the NZT dissolved, Eddie's brain began to fire intensely again, and his demeanor gradually changed from timid and self-deprecating to resolute and confident.
Some things that he hadn't understood moments ago suddenly became crystal clear.
There was no longer confusion in Eddie's eyes, but a look of understanding.
For example, these guys who got off the cleanup van.
Obviously, they were professionals at disposing of bodies to avoid leaving any information at the scene that could be traced back to the client.
Moreover, this organization's transactions were conducted through a special kind of gold coin.
This also meant that David had access to obtain these special gold coins.
Connecting this to the High Table that David had mentioned during their earlier conversation,
Then this effective operating system was clearly serving assassins.
He hadn't expected that David, besides being a doctor and a vigilante, was actually connected to the assassin underworld.
"Sorry, I caused you trouble this time. It won't happen again."
"That would be best. Your enemies won't always be the lowest level street thugs.
Their methods for dealing with you won't just be kidnapping.
Do you know that NZT actually enters your brain through your bloodstream?
So if they tied you up, continuously gave you blood transfusions, fed you NZT, and then bled you out, they could reverse-engineer the formula faster.
The fact that I didn't do this doesn't mean others won't."
Hearing David's words, Eddie couldn't help but shiver.
The image of being hung on a hook like livestock at a slaughterhouse, allowing people to drain him dry, was truly chilling.
He absolutely did not want to become that kind of NZT blood bank, with no freedom and constant suffering.
After this kidnapping incident, Eddie deeply understood the meaning of the saying "the nail that sticks up gets hammered down."
He was targeted by thugs just for winning a little extra money at the casino.
What if he took the money to Wall Street to trade stocks?
Then perhaps the scenario David predicted would truly become reality.
David was absolutely right—the prerequisite for freedom is having enough power.
And to have that, he must first accumulate enough fame, and then use the funds provided by Finch to run for office and gain political power.
At this moment, Eddie was no longer the timid Eddie who hesitated for a long time before pulling the trigger.
Having made up his mind, he looked into David's eyes and said firmly:
"I understand. Besides writing novels to build my reputation, I won't do anything else unnecessary."
David waved his hand, indicating that Eddie could leave on his own.
"Alright, go see a dentist and get that busted mouth of yours fixed properly.
Otherwise, I have trouble listening to you speak, not to mention the voters who will listen to your speeches in the future."
Eddie nodded. Penniless and disheveled, he took the cash David gave him, limped into the Uber David called for him, and headed towards the 24-hour dental clinic in downtown Princeton.
Having dealt with Eddie, after sending Reese and McCall back to rest, David called Michael and arranged a meeting time.
Michael, who was still having fun at a bar, quickly took ipecac syrup, purging the alcohol from his system that would affect his judgment.
This is how dedicated and professional an elite security contractor is.
Soon, Michael, appearing completely normal, arrived alone at the entrance of a place called Turing Psychological Services.
Here he met his client, David, whose discretionary time had temporarily ended.
According to the employment contract, his security contract with David would expire at 8 AM tomorrow.
So before that, David had the right to call on him at any time.
David looked at Michael, who stood at attention like a soldier, and smiled as he patted his shoulder:
"Relax, we're here for a friendly visit, not a hit.
Of course, this person is dangerous—you need to pay close attention to her.
If necessary, you can draw your weapon on her.
Now, how about you just pretend you're accompanying a friend to see a therapist?"
Hearing this, Michael's expression became even more serious.
He actually might need to draw his weapon?
Just how dangerous was the therapist they were going to see?
Wasn't David's underlying meaning that he might be in danger?
Thinking of the elite security company's protocols regarding client safety, Michael patted his cheeks, reminding himself that he must be on high alert.
Soon, the elevator reached the target floor.
A woman wearing a long blue dress with a plunging neckline appeared before the two of them—this was Turing.
Michael's eyes lit up. David hadn't mentioned they were meeting a beautiful therapist.
With this face and this figure, she could completely make a living based on her looks, yet she chose to make money based on her skills.
How could such a person be dangerous?
Or is it that the more attractive someone is, the more dangerous they are?
Realizing this, Michael immediately reminded himself mentally that this wasn't picking up women in a bar, but potentially a life-or-death situation.
He couldn't be fooled by this beauty.
Turing, on the other hand, didn't seem particularly interested in the two people in front of her—what fascinated her wasn't superficial appearances.
However, when she saw David arrive, a charming smile still appeared on her face.
This was her professional demeanor—to make every client feel welcome.
"Mr. David, correct? Please come this way."
Turing, walking ahead in high heels, gracefully guided the two of them into the consultation room.
Then, after making coffee for the two of them, she elegantly sat on the couch, crossing her long, pale legs modestly to avoid any impropriety.
Then Turing opened a blank notepad. Just as she was about to begin gradually asking questions to open up David's psyche, David spoke first:
"Let's be direct. I don't have any psychological problems.
I came to you just to get information about a patient who came here for therapy before.
This is his portrait."
David handed over a lifelike sketch.
The portrait was of Pete's loyal assistant, the guy Michael had beaten up badly.
Turing took the portrait with a smile, but she didn't even look at it and placed it on the side table, then refused apologetically:
"I'm sorry, Mr. David, as a therapist, I need to follow HIPAA confidentiality regulations.
I cannot casually reveal patient information.
I hope you can understand my professional obligations, and I imagine you wouldn't want your personal information to be given away by someone for the same reason one day, would you?"
David smiled:
"Of course, as a therapist, one does need to follow confidentiality regulations.
But what if you're not a real therapist?
Then do you still need to abide by any confidentiality regulations?"
Hearing David's words, a look of astonishment immediately appeared on Turing's face.
Was this David questioning whether she had a license?
How was she not a legitimate therapist?
She had clearly been doing very well recently.
Even her reputation had spread among Princeton's upper-class circles.
Now, there was no shortage of wealthy clients coming to see her, and not a single person doubted her identity as a therapist.
Thinking of this, a slight annoyance arose in her heart.
The person in front of her indeed didn't seem to be here for therapy, but rather... to cause trouble?
However, David did pay the consultation fee in full, so no matter how dissatisfied she was, she still had to maintain the role of a therapist.
So finally, with a look of confusion, Turing asked David:
"Mr. David, what do you mean by that?
Are you questioning my professional credentials?
Since you doubt me, why did you come to me?
Given that, can this consultation end here?
I am very sorry for giving you a poor consultation experience, but I will not refund the appointment fee.
Well, then, have a pleasant day."
Turing closed the notepad on her lap and was about to stand up.
But the words from David's mouth the next second made her freeze.
"What I mean is, should I call you Turing? Or should I call you Robin? Or perhaps your favorite name, Root?"
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