Time without seeing us

— Why don't we kill this motherfucker?

Seeing Job furious gaze, Ethan lit a cigarette by staying outside the door. Jason was stunned when he reached out, wondering why the bald man in front of him had said something so cruel.

Jason waved his hands frantically.

—You know, I can hear you. I'm still here.

—Shut up.

Ethan nodded his hand holding the cigarette.

—Don't listen to him, nobody is going to kill you. Hurry up and get dressed, nobody wants to see your parts.

—Hood wants us to help him, he said something like he owes it to his father. — He said to Job trying to calm him down.

Job pursed his lips, put on his sunglasses, and looked at Jason, who was dressing hastily with contempt, hated doing unnecessary work for other people, but would do it for Hood.

After a while, they returned to the Davis bar. The white lights in the service room blinked a few times when Job and Jason came out. Seeing Job's unhappy gaze, Jason consciously found a seat across the bar to sit.

Sugar's face became somewhat tense after seeing Jason sit down.

— What's up? —Ethan exclaimed sitting at the bar.

Sugar served a drink for him and for Job, pursed his lips and said:

—Okay, it's just interesting that out of so many seats in the bar, he chose the chair where the real Lucas Hood sat on the day of his death.

Ethan looked the other way and saw Jason holding a bottle of beer and throwing smoke rings out of boredom.

Job took a sip of his drink and whispered:

—I have a bad lender about that guy. We know what problems he brings with him, I will dig a deep muy hoyo and bury him.

—Please Job, he's just a boy, leave him alone — Sugar said shaking his head — Hood stole his identity, at least we owe him a second chance.

Job left his drink on the bar helplessly.

— When did we become a charity?

At the time, Jason Hood saw that no one else was at the bar, so he asked directly from across the bar —Excuse me, when will my fake documents be ready?

— False ID? — Job turned his head slowly, and the corners of his eyes trembled. Jason did not know why and nodded quickly.

— What do you think we are doing? —Job got up and said in a bad tone —. Do you think this is a kind of home workshop with a digital printer to make fake IDs? Of the kind of cheap ID for teens can buy beer for fifty dollars?

—I am changing your identity, a new person, do you understand what I mean? New name, credit history, social security number, birth certificate, everything I do is real motherfucker so don't screw me or I'll shoot you in the head.

Ethan and Sugar laughed before at Job's visible annoyance. Every time someone questioned his abilities, he reacted aggressively.

—Okay, sorry —Jason quickly said — he didn't mean to offend.

If Jason didn't need the help of these guys, he would have wanted to run away a long time ago. The people he met here were each more terrifying than the last.

Job walked directly towards Jason and stared at him.

—Boy, let me finish. After the job is done and I give you a new identity, you will have to go immediately and as far as you want. You must make sure that we will never see you or hear from you again. If you dare appear before us again, using your identity as Jason Hood to threaten us, or ask us to help you with something again ...

Job pulled a gun out of his waist and gently hit it in front of Jason, saying word for word:

—I swear, I will empty this gun into a stupid little head, you understand?

Jason swallowed, his walnut slid and nodded quickly. After staring at him for a while, Job grabbed his bald head, put the gun away, and returned to his seat.

At night, at the Savoy Club.

Ethan and Job were sitting in a corner of the dance floor, watching the strippers act with energy. When he entered the club, the gauze on Ethan's head caught a lot of attention. Although he was slightly injured, he was unable to abandon the action, and those who heard four men being shot down on the road alone raised their drinks as a greeting.

After Job took a sip of his drink, he asked Ethan:

—By the way, what about your head injury?

Ethan grabbed a thick wad of dollar bills and waved them quickly with his fingers on the dance floor, causing the bills to drop one after the other.

—Yes, I almost forgot about it.

Ethan stopped and whispered to Job:

—When you return to New York tonight, I want you to get me this.- I exclaim Ethan passing him a note with some articles.

Job leaned toward the table, his eyes slipping through the list of weapons and equipment Ethan has requested. Their eyebrows arch with interest when they see the arsenal described: a military-grade tactical assault rifle, several dozen magazines, a high-performance bulletproof vest, tactical clothing, and an ATV.

— Who are you planning to fight with? Need help?

—No, I'll take care of this myself. — Ethan smiled, showing his white teeth.

—Okay, after preparing Jason's new identity, I'll have what you asked for ready.

Job turned around and threw the bills in his hand onto the dance floor. The bills fell like a rain on the stripers.

Ethan smiled, then waved vigorously, and the money flew through the air. Although they were all small denomination bills, the large amount caused hundreds of dollars to fly in two or three factions.

—Bastard, you really don't feel bad spending my money.- I ask with a half smile.-

Job glared at him, then took a wad of small bills in front of him and put them in front of Ethan. — No one forced you to invite me tonight?

Ethan bit his cigarette unceremoniously, looked at the guy who was shaking madly in front of him, grabbed another handful, and shoved it into his thong.

At that moment, because the dancers surrounded them both, others felt dissatisfied and booed.

A strong man wearing a vest and a hard face had burning eyes, and the cute little girl in front of him moved further and further, running straight to the opposite side. He kept the twenty dollars in his hand angry, crossed the dance floor and walked directly towards Ethan and Job.

Job was bored for a long time, but when he saw the situation in front of him, he was instantly interested. The man in the vest walked next to Ethan, leaned on the dance floor, showed his tattoos, and said:

—You two bastards seem to have a lot of money, don't you mind if I help you spend a little truth?

—We don't care, do what you want —Ethan waved his hand nonchalantly and left his glass of wine.

—You have no child balls.

The man in the vest did not expect these two people to be so cowardly. With a smile of self-sufficiency, he reached out to grab the bills in front of Ethan. But before he could reach them, Ethan quickly moved his hand, took the ashtray resting next to him, and stamped it hard against the man's palm.

— Ahh! —The cry of pain echoed in place.

Ethan lifted the ashtray and examined it calmly, noticing how thick and heavy it was. It seemed indestructible. On the dance floor, the dancers barely reacted. They had witnessed similar situations before; they simply took a few steps back, watching nonchalantly.

Without saying a word, Ethan hit the man's hand twice more, accurately and without hesitation. Another cry of pain escaped the man's lips, as the ashtray slipped from Ethan's hand, falling to the ground with a hollow sound.

— Fuck you! I'm going to kill you —yelled the man in the vest, covering his bloody hand as he tried to hold back the pain.

—I don't think so —said a firm voice.

Proctor appeared with them, with a severe expression and his imposing presence dominating the situation. His gaze stuck on the man, without batting an eye.

—Get out of my club now —ordered, your tone left no room for discussion.

— Who the hell are you? —replied the man in the vest, incredulous at the intrusion.

Proctor did not respond immediately, simply looked at him with that dangerous calm, as if the answer was irrelevant. The man in the vest turned his head angrily and, seeing that it was Proctor, his legs trembled.

Proctor did not bother to speak nonsense. The security personnel behind him stepped forward and pulled the man out of the vest.

The man in the vest fought and shouted:

—Sorry, Mr. Proctor, I didn't know you were your friend.

The security guard dragging him punched him and the man in the vest shut his mouth obediently.

Proctor turned around and said to Ethan:

—Sorry, these peasants ruined your stay and that of your friend. — Proctor said, with a slight nod in apology, although his voice kept a controlled coldness.

Ethan, without giving too much importance to the incident, took some scarves out of his pocket and began to wipe the blood from his hands. Her expression was calm, but there was a glimpse of concern in her eyes. After making sure there were no traces of blood left, he looked up at Proctor.

—It doesn't matter —Ethan said in a firm voice —. But ... nothing will happen to him, right?

Proctor stared at him, with a slight smile that did not reach his eyes. —It depends on him. But I assure you that if you follow my advice and leave now, you won't have to regret it later.

Proctor looked at Job, who ignored him and concentrated on watching the dancer flying on the pole.

Seeing that Ethan had no intention of introducing him, Proctor smiled and said:

—Gentlemen, I'm leaving first. All the drinks tonight are on the house. I hope you can have a good time.

—Thank you, but it is not necessary. My friend will pay tonight. —Ethan said, leaving a drink on the table —

Proctor looked at the thick pile of small bills in front of Ethan and arched his eyebrows. He smiled without saying anything, turned around and walked back to the office. The little charade ended quickly and there was a drink and dancing at the club.

— Is he the owner? —Job asked.

—That's right.

—It looks like a normal business hambre.

—A true mobster never looks like a mobster.

The two drank quietly and continued to wave the bills in their hands throughout the night.

Two days later, Ethan drove the police car to the outskirts of town. After driving a few dozen meters down the private road, he stopped in front of a small house. After honking his horn several times, Job opened the door and walked down the porch dressed in a black nightgown and holding a bottle of whiskey.

—Welcome to my new home.

The gothic man Johnny also left the house and greeted Ethan. Ethan looked at the house and asked in surprise:

— Wow, when did you rent a house here?

This house has a small farm, surrounded by tall trees. There are no traces of neighbors for several kilometers, so I had great privacy.

Seeing the expression of surprise on Ethan's face, Job smiled with satisfaction and said:

—I rented it not too long ago, but I hadn't told you before. Now that it's been renovated, I brought Johnny here to hang out. Since you bastards are always here, I needed to find a place to stay, the hotels here are horrible and I couldn't run back to New York every time I saw.

Job hugged Johnny.

—From the chance that Johnny también quiere will find a place to change his mood. This place in it is nothing wrong, you love a river behind the property.

—Come on, follow me.

Job waved and walked to the garage next to the house. In the garage, in addition to Johnny's convertible, he had also parked a gray ford escort.

Ethan looked at Job, who raised his hand and threw a bunch of keys at him. With agility, Ethan caught them and headed for the car, opening the trunk with a quick twist of the wrist. Inside, a blue canvas bag was waiting for him. He carefully opened it, revealing a black combat uniform, complete with reinforced boots and a bulletproof vest.

Diverting clothing accurately, he found a Colt M1911 resting on various spare magazines and bullets. But what caught his attention was something else: Under the short gun, an M4 assault rifle was carefully placed, along with several boxes of additional ammunition. Ethan pulled out the rifle, feeling the familiar weight on his hands.

—Thank you.

Ethan closed the zipper on the bag with satisfaction, then took a paper bag out of his coat and handed the agreed money to Job.

Job took the money, passed it to Johnny, and said to Ethan:

—You can leave it here until you need it. There is no surveillance on the surrounding roads so you don't have to worry.

Ethan slapped Job on the shoulder and closed the trunk.

—No problem.

The matter was resolved. Job opened the small door next to the garage that led into the house.

— Do you want to come for a drink?

—I'm still on patrol. I'll see you at Sugar's bar. Aren't you going to give Jason his new identity to Jason?

Ethan waved, returned to the police car, and continued his work. Now that everything was ready, he wondered what was happening with Nola; I haven't heard from her in days.

He slowed down and texted him. Soon after, the phone rang.

—I couldn't find Chayton's whereabouts. The Red Bones are hidden deep in the forest north of the reserve.

After remembering the location, Ethan sighed and deleted the text message. At the end of his shift, he went home, ate something, and then got into his car to go to the Davis Bar.

At the time, only Sugar was in the little bar. Ethan had a beer, walked over to the pool table, and started playing alone. Soon after, Hood and Jason arrived as well.

As soon as Ethan and Hood finished playing a round, Job and Johnny hugged in through the door.

Seeing Job, Jason quickly got up to get closer to him. Job took a yellow envelope of documents out of his bag, approached Jason, looked at him for a while, and then handed him the bag.

—Congratulations, you are now a completely different person.

—Thank you.

Jason grabbed the document bag and tried to retrieve it, but it didn't move at all. He looked at Job confused.

— Anything else?

Job narrowed his eyes and looked at him:

— Do you remember what I told you?

Jason nodded seriously.

—Don't worry, I will leave early in the morning and you will never see me again.

He had been in this place long enough and couldn't wait to leave. If you stayed longer, it would be more dangerous.

After listening to Jason, Job dropped the envelope. Jason couldn't wait to open the file bag and check the information it contained. Seeing the new identity he had obtained, he walked excitedly towards Hood, put his arm around his shoulders and patted him.

—Thanks, man.

Seeing Jason so excited, Job rolled his eyes and pulled Johnny to sit at the bar.

—Just thank Job, he did it all —Hood said with a smile, taking a sip of wine — Keep a low profile, and don't cause trouble.

—Good follow. Thank you all. I will invite a drink to everyone.

Jason quickly put his ID in his wallet, sat down in a chair, and cheerfully announced to people at the bar.

Seeing his excited gaze, Ethan shook his head and took a sip of his whiskey. He left the cup, held the heel firmly in his hand, leaned over, aimed quickly, and struck. With a "dong" sound, the black ball fell into the bag.

Along with the sound of billiards, the wooden door of the bar opened and a voice sounded with a strong British accent:

—Good evening, Jason, we haven't seen each other in a long time.