Schemes Set in Motion

"So, as I've already said, I'm the one you called," Nathan explained. "But the call wasn't supposed to reach me. It was supposed to reach my father."

"I—I still don't understand," Roy replied, finally raising himself up to his bed. "Why your father?"

"You don't know anything about me or my family, do you?"

"Well, no. Not really. Should I?" Roy rubbed his head.

"That would be a little creepy, honestly. So I'm kind of glad you don't," Nathan chuckled. "The thing is, our fathers were apparently working together on something. My best guess—the anti-assassin movement."

"Is your father part of the movement?"

"Not exactly. You could say he is on the other side."

"Wait. You—you mean. . . your father is an assassin?" Roy gasped.

"Yes, he is!" Nathan said proudly. "And so am I!"

"You're a what?!" Luckily, Roy was already sitting. "How can that be? Yo—"

"Please listen to me, Roy. Let me explain myse—"

"YOU BASTARDS! IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT! IF ONLY YOU WOULD ALL DIE, MY FATHER WOULD STILL BE ALIVE! HE—"

"Listen to me! LISTEN! I'm on your side."

"What do you mean, on my side? Huh?" Roy snarled. "How could you possibly be on my side after what you've done?"

"First of all, it wasn't us. My father and I had nothing to do with that. Second, my father was helping your father end this whole assassination practice. Can't you see it?"

"How was he helping? You people killed him!"

"I swear to God. . . what did I get myself into?" Nathan whispered.

He took a deep breath. "Okay. You can't see what I'm trying to say, so let me explain. Your father called my father. Doesn't that mean that your father wanted something from my father?"

"Okay, sure. But what does that have to do with anything?" Roy snapped. "You killed him either way!"

"Could you just please stop acting as if all assassins are one entity? Would that really kill you?" Nathan's irritation rose.

There was a stony silence on the other end of the line. Nathan massaged the bridge of his nose.

"Sorry. Bad choice of words," Nathan apologized, realizing his blunder. "What I wanted to say is, we are not one huge, living, breathing entity. I mean, if a vendor scams you, you don't start hating on all the vendors, do you?"

"I guess I don't. I get what you're trying to say, but what does this have to do with anything?" Roy said cautiously.

"Ok, now that we've established that it wasn't me or my father who killed your father, I hope that we can proceed in a more civilized manner."

"That we can do what now?"

"You can't be serious."

"I sure as hell am. How am I supposed to know what the fuck you're saying? You sound like a forty-year-old man."

"What did I do to deserve this?" Nathan muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," Nathan said, coughing. "As I was saying, I would like us to talk now, without you interrupting me. Could we please do that?"

"Fine."

"Great. So, our fathers were collaborating on something, as we've already esta—as we've already said. What do you think that was?"

"I don't know."

"Forget I asked," Nathan sighed. "My father was most likely a spy that provided inside information for your father. But now that's no longer possible."

"Why is that?"

"Well, because one side of the deal decided to leave the mortal realm."

"Fuck you with all this bullshit. Could you speak normally?" Roy barked.

"You made me say this, you know. It's because your father is dead. I'm sure it was hard for them to conceal their cooperation. Now that your father is dead, cooperating with someone else might be impossible."

"You don't have to be so blunt about it," Roy retorted. "Okay, but what does this have to do with me? You said you had something important to tell me, but I don't see what's so important about this. At least, not to me."

"My father is on a mission. He doesn't know about any of this, and I honestly don't know when he will return. Either way, your anti-assassin movement has no informant and it will become a lot harder for you to win. Do you understand that?"

"Yes, I do. At least, I think so." Roy rubbed his head again.

"Great. And you do remember me talking about how I'm an assassin, too?"

"I'm not an idiot, you know."

"I'll take that as a 'yes'. Anyway, what I'm getting at is, the whole anti-assassin movement will have a hard time without an informant. I'm going to step in and be the informant."

"You? But who will you be informing? I mean, I don't have anything to do with that. My parents haven't told me anything about their work and—"

"That's why I never said anything about informing you," Nathan explained, with exaggerated patience. "I will be informing your mother, or anyone who is already involved in the anti-assassin movement."

"What do you mean by that?"

"You haven't told them about the body, right? The assassin."

"N—no. I haven't. The ma—you said that I shouldn't, so I didn't say anything," Roy stammered defensively.

"Great. You did well. It's best that nobody knows about that. It could become problematic. As I've said, we need to play it smart, Roy. If we don't want anyone finding out about what you did, we can't discl—we can't tell anyone that you know about me. I mean, me being an assassin. Is that clear?"

"Yeah. So I need to act like I don't know you're an assassin. But why would I talk to you, then? Don't get me wrong—you're a cool guy, but we weren't really friends. Wouldn't that be weird if we started being best buddies all of a sudden?"

"That's a valid point," Nathan admitted. "Do you talk with your parents about your friends or school?"

"No, I don't. Usually—"

"In that case, it's very simple. We started talking at the end of the school year and became pretty good friends. Once I heard what happened to your father, I wanted to console you. That's when we started talking more. In a week or so, I will come to pay you a visit and—"

"But we didn't do all of that." Roy's head was starting to hurt.

"Do your pare—does your mom know that?" Nathan asked, correcting himself.

"No, she doesn't. Or at least, I don't think she does."

"Then there's no problem. You just say that's what happened, and it will be what happened. Comprende?"

"Com—what the hell are you saying now?"

"Do you understand the plan?" Nathan sighed. "Your role is simple. Just say that we became friends at the end of the school year and that I helped you through the tough times. And of course, I will gladly help you through this whole ordeal. I'm technically the only one that knows about your—or, if you will, our—secret."

"You will?" Roy jumped up from his bed.

"It's a phrase. 'If you will.' How would I—"

"No, I mean you'll help me? That's what you said."

"Well, yeah. . . I will. Why not? You seem pretty excited about it."

"What? No. No! I'm—you know what? Fuck off. I'll tell my parents you'll be coming over. Anything else, Umbris?"

"And when exactly will I be coming over?" Nathan mocked.

"I—"

"Next week. Choose a day and let me know. This is my number, so just call me when you know. Anyway, it was good talking to you, my friend. If you need anything, please just let me know. I'm here for you. Bye."

Roy was left alone in his room, dazed. But eventually, a smile spread over his face.

Friend?

Roy ran out of his room, looking for his mother.

***

Nathan walked out of the resting room to resume his training. That last fight had been an eye-opener. Perhaps his father had had a point when he'd said he wasn't ready.

Either way, the plans were already in motion. There was no stopping now. He'd achieve what he wanted. He would make his father proud.