The Next Task

The parcel was wrapped in off-white satin, the fabric soft and comforting to the touch. It was loosely clinging to whatever was inside, the round object protruding harshly from the velvety material. Usually, Falcon would never violate the privacy of a client, but in this case, he was more than curious to know what was inside. He untied the loose knot in mere seconds, a surprised gasp escaping his mouth at what fell out of it.

A pebble had rolled into his lap, an ordinary dark stone, no visible specialty to the eye.

'Damn you, Cyan Yarrow,' Falcon groaned.

He was offended at the absence of a sense of accomplishment he always felt after completing an assignment. He did not like being punctuated with doubts and confusion, and a tiny part of him was angry at himself for the small bud of guilt poking its way into his heart. Punching in the message, Falcon reminded himself he wasn't responsible for whatever was inside, he had completed his job. It wasn't his task to find the real thing.

*Package has been retrieved.*

He sucked a breath as 453's message glowed brightly on the screen.

*THE OBJECT IS FAKE. PACKAGE HAS BEEN MOVED OUT OF THE HOUSE.*

Falcon let out an agitated moan. Briefly, he wondered how 453 was so updated. But that was none of his business.

*My job's done.* He responded.

*MINE ISN'T. I HAVE ANOTHER TASK FOR YOU.* 453 sent back.

When the stranger told him what he wanted him to do next, Falcon breathed shortly. It wasn't difficult, but it was something he had sworn never to do in this field. Not the mention, the heavy conflict inside him was growing steadily, a continuous battle he was fighting against himself.

*That's not what I do.*

*DOUBLE THE MONEY.* His client's response was immediate.

Falcon thought for a moment. True, the task was easy and the money he was getting out of it would contribute handsomely to the amount he was gathering.

*Consider it done.* He wrote back with a confused sigh.