3 CONVINCE ME
"MISTER HUXLEY!" A MAN shouts the moment I walk out of the airport. I saw him approach me. He was wearing sunglasses, a trench coat, and a fedora. Very 70's detective.
"Mr. Huxley, right?" He asks, checking the photo on his phone and looking back at my face so he could compare the two.
"Yeah, and you must be agent Carlos. The chief told me you're my ticket inside the Delton Mansion." I tell him.
Detective Carlos immediately shushes me and grabs my suitcase, "We can't talk here," he says, and then he starts dragging me towards an old Mitsubishi Mirage car. He puts my suitcase at the back and opens the passenger seat for me, which I admit was pretty sweet and very gentleman-like. No wonder girls like it when men open the door for them.
I step inside the car. Carlos closes the door for me and goes straight to the driver's seat. He doesn't say anything as he starts the engine. He adjusts the rearview mirror and soon after we were driving away from the airport.
I was supposed to ask him something when Carlos suddenly opens the compartment to take something out. When he got a hold of it, he pulls it out and shoves it to my chest. Apparently it was a brown envelope.
"All your files are there. Fake I.D, fake cards, fake passport, medical examinations, clean police records, and of course, your fabricated résumé." He explains to me without even pausing to breathe.
I open the envelope and check the files. "Vincent Carter." I read out loud when I got a hold of my new identification card.
"Yes, starting today you are Vincent Carter, a retired military police officer. You retired early because of an accident that you don't really want to talk about anymore. You heard from some of your past colleagues that some rich family is looking for a bodyguard and they'll pay a huge amount of dough for it. You're not much of a talker, so if ever they ask unnecessary questions, you remain silent as much as you can." Carlos explains in one go, and I had to mentally take down everything that he just told me so I wouldn't be able to forget.
"Okay, so how are you guys sure they won't figure this all out?" I ask him.
"We're not. That's why we're giving you two months max to find all the pieces of evidence that we'll need in order to know who the killer is. But don't worry, your old identity is completely erased in the system, so even if they look for Elliot Huxley, they'll see nothing." Carlos assures me like that was going to make all my worries go away.
"Chief Philips told me you're working at the Delton Enterprise," I say.
Carlos nods his head as an answer, "I do. It's a good company actually. The Delton siblings are your typical elite family, but I can't make any judgments yet since I only see them at the company. You on the other hand will see a lot more once you get inside that mansion."
"IF I get inside," I emphasized to him because getting inside really isn't certain yet. Who knows, maybe the Delton's doesn't like pretty boys and would rather have a gangster-looking man to guard them.
"Since this is your final briefing before you start the mission, I'll tell you all the things you need to know. In the back beside your suitcase, you'll find a small bag. Inside you'll see a phone and an earpiece. No one can detect it, and it can't be interfered with. You'll report everything to us using that. But just because no one can detect it, it doesn't mean it's invisible, so make sure no one sees it either." He explains.
"Okay, I'll handle that, but what about the actual target, Cyrus Delton? In your perspective, what is he like? Do you see him as a man who can actually kill his own father?" I ask out of curiosity, but other than that, I have to know what to expect when I face this man.
Carlos looks straight at the road while scratching his chin with his left hand, "Honestly speaking he's just quiet most of the time. And I know what you're going to say, serial killers are usually the silent and mysterious types, but his type of quiet is different. It's more like he's focused."
"Focused to plot another murder?" I ask with a grin, but Carlos was still serious when he continued to talk about Cyrus Delton like Cyrus was right in front of him and he was describing to me everything that he was currently seeing.
"No, it's like he's calculating his every move. When you see him he's just a walking perfection. Everything he does is just precise. I would be lying if I say he's not intimidating, but other than intimidating, he's more like a boy trained to be a perfect gentleman." Carlos finishes.
I take everything in and massage my temple. The information that Carlos told me was interesting, but it wasn't helpful.
"What a strange way to put it," I comment, "A boy trained to be a perfect gentleman?" I ask again, and Carlos nods his head, agreeing that those words were the perfect description for him.
"Then maybe it's more like he's a boy trained to kill like a gentleman," I add, and Carlos stops at a stoplight and looks at me with a serious expression, "Maybe," he simply says back.
I clear my throat and brush the serious atmosphere away.
"Alright, so when's my audition?" I manage to joke.
Carlos finally smiles back and parks the car in front of an insanely enormous building almost made of glass. I look out of the window and see the sign: Delton Enterprise. I look back at Carlos with a shocked expression when I realize something.
"Your audition starts now," he suddenly informs me.
"You gotta be fucking kidding me. We start right away? I don't even get to rest?" I ask, but obviously Carlos doesn't answer that question.
"Once you get inside the building, look for Edison Clegane. Ask about the bodyguard position and you'll be on your merry way. Please, this is our only chance to infiltrate the Delton mansion. Don't let us down," he tells me instead.
"You don't know me, and this conversation never happened," he adds for extra measures.
"Alright then, good luck to me," I say as I was about to open the car door.
"One last thing-" Carlos immediately calls out. I stop mid-way and look back at him, "Keep all this a secret, right?" I assume what he'll say since that's what chief Philip told me when I first met up with him last week at the headquarters.
"Whatever happens, do not break character. Even when you face death, even when you're caught, never mention anything about the mission." He tells me instead with a serious expression like I don't know that already.
"And if I screw it up?" I ask, just in case I do.
Carlos chuckles. He looks confident. "I don't think you will. I heard about you, Elliot Huxley. You're the two-faced cop. Charming and witty to most, but wicked and heartless to some. You'll do just fine." He tells me.
Elliot Huxley. I suppose that's the last time I'll get to hear someone call me that.
"Thanks for the lift," I say as I finally head out of the car. At the back, I saw the bag that contained the phone and earpiece. I tuck it in between the few clothes that I have inside my suitcase, but before I place the brown envelope inside as well, I take out the fake I.D and place it inside my wallet.
I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and mentally convince myself that I was now Vincent Carter. I had to establish a proper and consistent personality, so I decided to go dark and mysterious. I'll keep my witty comments inside starting today. If they know I'm not a talker, they'll know not to ask me too many questions, that's the unwritten rule of life.
"Vincent Carter," I practice, making sure it wouldn't sound awkward whenever I introduce myself using my new name. I practice it a couple more times before taking out my suitcase, and finally walking towards the building with a serious and menacing expression now implanted on my face.
While walking, I glance at the window on the side that showed my reflection. I was wearing a suit like what chief Philips wanted. He told me to look neat but tough at the same time. I didn't know how to work out the two, so I wore a suit and waxed my hair back to fit Philip's ideal description.
Easily enough, when I got inside the building, a receptionist greets me, "Hello sir, welcome to Delton Enterprise. How may I help you?"
I walk towards her and answer in a low voice, "I'm looking for Edison Clegane. I'm here about the bodyguard that's up for hire." I tell her. She must have been surprised at how gloomy and serious I sounded because she flinches first before answering me, "Oh yes, of course, let me just check on him for you."
The woman grabs the phone and dials a number.
"Hello, Mr. Clegane, yes, a man is here to see you. It's about the president's bodyguard position," she says to the man on the other line. And then she looks back at me and mouthed the words 'I.D', so I hand her the fake I.D with confidence.
"His name is mister...Vincent Carter. Yes. Okay, I'll tell him right away." The woman says before ending the call and putting the phone down. She hands me my I.D back and smiles, "Mr. Clegane is ready for you. Just head to the twelfth floor, room 1209. He'll be expecting you there."
Seriously, that easy?
"Okay, thank you," I say with a nod before heading towards the elevator to head over to the twelfth floor like what the woman told me to.
The room wasn't hard to find so I got there in a flash. I adjusted my tie first before knocking on the door. A low voice told me to, "Come in," so I did.
"Mr. Carter?" he asks the moment I closed the door behind me. It took me a couple of seconds to respond because I immediately had forgotten that I was supposed to be the Carter that he was referring to.
"Yes, and you must be Mr. Clegane," I say back, not even cracking a smile.
I walk towards him and he gestures at the seat in front of his desk. Obviously he doesn't want me to stand on it so I sat down and placed my suitcase on the other empty seat beside me.
The man – Edison Clegane – was old to the point where his hair was white, but he still managed to have a fit body, which made me want to compare him with wine. The older he got, the finer he got.
"Let's cut to the chase. You're here for the position of a bodyguard, am I correct? So who recommended you?" he asks me. I take out my résumé and hand it to him before finally answering his question, "No one recommended me. I just heard about this from some of my colleagues. They say it would pay well, and I badly need the money, so here I am now."
He reads my résumé in silence before glancing back at me, "So an ex-military man. What were you doing after you left service?" he asks me.
"Therapy." I simply answer him, trying my best to look as empty as possible. I wanted to make him feel that I wasn't in the mood to chat with him, and I think it worked since he didn't push me to explain further anymore.
He finally puts my résumé down and looks back at me with his fingers intertwined together, "Your records are impressive, but I can't help but feel like you'll be wasting your skill as a bodyguard. Wouldn't you want to go back and serve again instead?" he asks, and this time I knew that this was a personal question from him and not just for interview purposes.
"If my colleagues are right, then this will pay more than what I'll get if I serve again. As I said, I need the money, and I need a lot of it," I answer him, not trying to sound rude.
He stares at me, examining me from head to toe. Of course, I was bothered. He might have noticed how uncomfortable I was so he immediately stops and leans back on his chair.
"I'll hire you now if I could, knowing what you're capable of, but of course I don't make the final call. I'm the president's secretary, and the one who will decide on that is the president himself. So now I want you to head to his office on the fourteenth floor. I'll call him now and inform him of your visit," he says while handing me back my résumé.
I stand from the seat, take my suitcase before thanking him.
"Let me just tell you that the president is very picky when it comes to choosing who he will hire. But if it can help, I'll try convincing him to choose you. He's been rejecting everyone who comes. I think it's about time he picks someone who's actually capable to do the job," he tells me, making me thank him again before heading to where he told me to go to.
The fourteenth floor was empty. There were a few doors, but the double door at the end of the hallway was already a big hint that that's the room that I'm supposed to be heading to.
If the president of this company really is there, then this will be my first encounter with him. I can't screw this up. First impressions always last, so if I make a huge impact now, I might just get hired.
"This is it," I tell myself as I made sure I'm perfectly groomed and ready before finally knocking on the door. No one answered, so I knock on the door again. I thought this time someone was going to open the door, but no one did, so I knocked for the third time. Nothing.
"Is no one home?" I ask, about to grab the doorknob so I could open the door myself.
"It's rude to enter rooms without the owner's permission." A voice of a man says behind me, making me flinch and immediately put my hand down. I gulp from nervousness. His voice was so close I could tell he's only a few inches away from where I was standing.
Well, there goes my first impression.
"I'm sorry." The only thing I could say while slowly turning around to face the man who I suspect was the president himself. But to my surprise, it wasn't the Delton that I was expecting at all. Instead, it was Chance Delton, the third of the four siblings.
"Not who you're expecting?" he asks when he sees my reaction.
With a grin on his face, he walks closer and pats my shoulder; "My brother will not like it if he sees such behavior from you, believe me." Then he goes inside the office, "Please come in," he adds. I was hesitant at first, but I followed him anyway and went inside the office. The office was what I already expected it to be. It's big and clean, with a perfect view of the city.
My eyes follow Chance as he stands and leans on the desk. He didn't dare to sit on the chair. I'm guessing his brother wouldn't like that either.
"I'm Chance Delton, Cyrus's younger brother. My brother is talking with a few directors downstairs, but he'll be right back after a couple of minutes. I'm guessing you're here for the bodyguard position. Your aura already tells me you're a good...watchdog. That's why I can tell right away," he says with confidence, the grin still on his face, almost tempting me to punch him.
I try to be as serious as I can. If it was Elliot Huxley, I'll already be giving him a witty reply, but I try my best to keep my mouth shut instead.
"Hey, you're no fun," he comments. Then he leans further on the desk and stares at me from head to toe before licking his lips like a pervert.
"Are you sure you want to work as my brother's bodyguard? Wouldn't you want to work for me instead? I can pay double if you want," he suddenly offers me.
I obviously didn't know what to answer. I could decline him now, but I could accept the offer too. If I get to work with this man, I'll still get inside the mansion either way. And besides, he's not like his older brother. He's cunning but not intimidating. I think it would be easier to handle him. But what work would I be exactly doing if ever I do accept his offer?
"But how rude of me, I haven't even asked for your name yet," he says.
I stare back at him with an empty expression and tell him, "Vincent Carter. But you can call me Vince."
"Vince," he repeats, standing from the desk and walking closer to where I was.
"It doesn't suit you." He suddenly tells me, almost making me lose my composure. But I kept my expressionless face intact.
"It's not like I had a choice," I tell him, making him chuckle.
Chance Delton circles around me, sometimes touching my shoulder and arm while he did so. He moves like a snake, and if I do or say the wrong things, he might just wrap himself around me and devour me. Now I see the appeal. He isn't like his brother, but he's a totally different character. There's something about him that screams danger, and by the looks of it, he's a good manipulator too.
Very interesting.
"Vincent Carter." He says again, stopping just right behind me.
He slides his hand on my back for no reason at all, but when his warm index finger touches the nape of my neck, my stupid instincts told me to turn around and grab his wrist, which was exactly what I did.
Chance was surprised to see how quick I acted; his expression said it all. But then he smirks, and that was a sign that I have to immediately let go of him now.
Before I could even defend myself, the office door opens, finally revealing the man who I was supposed to be expecting, Cyrus Delton. He was what I expected when I first saw his picture. His presence alone made everything feel uncomfortable. And like what Carlos said, he moved with precision. He looked well-groomed; like a salon followed him everywhere. And when he walked towards us, it was like his steps were counted as well.
I didn't expect to meet such a man.
"What are you doing here?" He asks. His voice sending chills down my spine.
How was that even possible?
"Just keeping this gentleman company." Chance answers him with a grin.
"Well since I'm here now, there's no need for that anymore. Thank you for your service. Now please…leave," he commands him, and Chance didn't even show any struggle as he bows his head so he could leave. But before doing so, he looks over his shoulder and tells me, "I'll be watching you, Vince. I'll be watching very closely." Then he was gone.
I glance at Cyrus Delton, which was actually a mistake because he was already staring back at me when I did. I can't believe I'm saying this but I was more comfortable being alone with that pervert than be with this man that I'm alone with now. I have not seen someone so dominating.
"So, you must be?" He asks, gesturing at the empty seat. He waits for me to sit down first before taking a seat himself. Then he straightens his back and looks at me with a serious expression.
"Vincent Carter." I answer him, handing him my résumé.
He takes it from my hand and slowly reads it. It took him at least a minute to finally ask me another question. But what he asked surprised me enough to knit my brows.
"Have you killed before?" He asks with no hint of hesitation.
I didn't know what to answer, but he already saw my résumé so I assume he knows that already, "Well, I worked as a soldier so yes, I have killed before."
"That's good." He says back, putting my résumé down so he could look back at me, "I need someone who can pull the trigger when I'm in danger, and not one who will cower and hesitate."
I don't really know how to reply to that so I just kept my mouth shut.
He continues staring at me, his face unreadable.
"Are you good at lying?" He asks me next with the same serious expression. The question surprised me even more compared to the first one. Was he already on to me before I could even do anything suspicious? Or did he already know before I even got here?
Did chief Philip just send me in a suicidal mission? And was I stupid enough to think I could get away from this?
"I try to convince myself that I am," I answer him, making sure I don't look fazed.
Cyrus nods his head and stands up from his seat. Then, like Chance, he goes in front of his desk and leans on it.
"Your profile is exceptional, there's no doubting it. But I need to know more about the person who will be practically standing behind me 24/7," he says, making me gulp again.
I take a slow and deep breath and adjust myself on the seat.
"Vincent Carter," he calls out, "Convince me," he then adds, his face now showing more emotions compared to earlier. He was enjoying this, and he was making sure that I knew it.
"Give me the best lie you can come up with that will make me hire you." He says, making me look at him with confusion.
He taps his fingers on the desk, the sound making me feel like he was taunting me.
"How would you know if it's a lie then?" I ask him cautiously. And to my surprise, a smirk became visible in his face. I didn't expect to see such expression from him.
"Oh, I'll know," he assures me. And then he walks closer to where I was sitting and adjusts my necktie before continuing, "I always know a good lie when I hear it. So Mr. Carter, give me your best shot."
