missing marks -- grim maxwell

[swing]

His cell phone was always an ominous presence in his pocket. When it rang, he never answered it properly--merely with a pause in breath and the background static of whatever he was around.

"Are you in a better mood now?"

"...."

"Good. Listen I wanted to ask you about som--"

"If you ever come into my appartment unannounced again, I won't hesitate to shoot you."

"Yeah. Sorry--"

"Furthermore, if you call me a dick again, you'll be missing yours."

"Alright! Alright! I got it. Seriously, I need to ask you about what happened in China."

"Nothing."

"Don't bullshit me, I know about your spinal....problems."

"Meet me at junction 18 in fifteen minutes."

The phone was shut, there were very few things he wouldn't discuss over the phone--means of torture was one of them.

[swing]

The last train had passed seventy years ago at the abandoned station--according to Grim's towncar clock, David was twenty minutes late, as he had expected. Which, was why he sat in the car, instead of loitering around the abandoned station. The end of a cigarette was smashed into an ashtray before he noted a presence running across the tracks to wind up at the abandoned station. Grim stepped out from the car and made his way over.

"You're late."

"Yeah yeah, I had to run home and get the lappy."

Grim just blinked at his explanation before he latched arms behind himself and stared up at the gray heavens with eyes that were shaded by black lenses.

"Do we have a point to all of this or..."

"Shh! It's loading, you know how technology is."

Grim just lit up another cigarette and exhaled into the space between them.

"You said you had to ask me something, not show me something."

David just rolled his eyes and straightened, smoothing his hands on his pants.

"Okay. Fine, do you want the good news or the bad news first?"

Grim removed his sunglasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I'm not in the mood for games."

"Just answer the damn question, Jesus."

"Grim, and which ever you feel most comfortable telling me."

"Okay then, I need your weaponry please."

"What?"

"Your weap-on-ry, gun thingies, knive-thingies, you know anything you can mess me up with."

Grim promptly sent a fist crashing into his face, sending David staggering backwards mumbling obscenities.

"As I can't detach my hands, we'll have to forgo the weaponry removal."

"YOU HIT ME IN THE NOSE YOU BASTARD."

David's face was sour as he checked to make sure he wasn't bleeding, stretching his face a few times.

"ANYWAY, ow, Grim that really hurt.. "

"The point, David, focus."

"Oh, yeah. Good news and bad news."

"....."

"Good news is! I know what's lodged in your spine. Bad news is..."

"Is...?"

"Oh look, Pearl's up'n runnin'. See this?"

David pointed to a series of computer generated images that displayed what appeared to be microchips.

"Yes."

"That's, what's in your spine."

"So..remove it."

"Can't."

"Why not?"

"Well, I can, but do you really want to die? Don't answer that, anyways, it's....They're...."

"Spit it out, David."

"It's the mainframe for The Order. You're like.. a mobile ledger, only there's one problem."

"What."

"If I try to take them out, it'll inject poison into your nervous system, and completely destroy the chips. You can't take them out without the code that disables them."

"Can we, skip the melodramatics please David."

"Basically, there's nothing I can do about it. But! At least now you know."

Yes, now he knew that if The Order found out about his sabotage, he was as good as dead.

[swing]

His fingertips were stuck to the sheet of the paper as the other hand dialed a number that he should've crossed out of his contact book, but for some reason the black ink stood out the way the scar along his spine did..

"Gu--"

"This isn't a social call, Anika."

"Grim."

The German woman's voice was harsh as he had expected it to be.

"I need you to check a location for me."

"I don't do that anymore, I am a jeweler."

"You were never a good liar."

"My services are no longer extended to you."

"I'm willing to give you anything."

Silence again as the woman took in his words with a few breaths.

"Anything, Grim? You must be really desperate."

Grim gritted his teeth against her laughter.

"Just name your price."

"Price? Alright....I want..."

He waited for her to decide, picking at the edge of the tape.

"I want...The music box you have in your London flat."

"No."

"Then you get nothing from me."

That music box was the only link to his family that he had, even if the ballerina had faded and cracked over the years. He straightened in his chair and drew in a breath.

"Why do you want it."

"Because Grim....You took something from me that I will never regain. I can't work because no one likes a cripple. So, from you? I will take something of sentimental value...It is a small payment, but efficient."
"I will ship it to you once you give me the information."

"Can I trust you? That is really the question that I need answered."

"I called, knowing our history."

"Very true. Give me the location."


----later----

He was a melting mixture of anger and blood, when the numbers were punched into the cellular phone, he wasn't sure he wanted to know anymore. He wasn't sure he wanted to know what she had to say, but between the crackling static of connection he heard her words.

"It checks out. Mail the music box to the jewelers."

The connection was ended.
--
He didn't go home in his state of an abstract painting--instead he wound up rapping on the door of David.

"Hey I didn't exp--HOLY SHIT."

David was trying to shut the door but Grim's foot caught it, his hands pushing it with force to crash into his nose.

"OW JESUS! OW!"

David recoiled, grabbing his face.

"Now we match."

Grim's words were sharp as he stalked after him.

"Look, I d--"

The back of knuckles met David's mouth before he could finish the sentence.

He can't even defend himself.

Words ricocheted in his mind which caused him to pull the gun from its holster, to which David cowered on the floor.

"Get up."

David did as he was told, trembling and murmuring words all the same before the gun's handle was extended to him.

"If you wanted to kill me, David. You should've asked for my gun.?
--
"I will speak daggers to her, but use none". --William Shakespeare.

The alcohol he pulled from the shelf wasn't meant for consumption, rather, for the dressing of his own wounds. He'd passed over the salt and thought better of it for once..

All wounds he bore now, both externally and internally were justly administered and deserved. The perfect indentation of a woman scorned stared back at him as he pressed a rag doused in Jim Beam to his face to wash off the platelets that had formed with traces of her saliva.

The dark plum of an almost charcoal smudged quality rifled under his eyes and feathered off--his nose was set back into place with a brutal hand. He groaned and mumbled incoherent obscenities as he washed the rest of the blood away and sent the alcoholic rag to smear over his arm where the bullet had grazed.

He patched himself up with white gauze--that made him look more like a puzzle with missing pieces than a man. When he was complete he was still unfinished.

[swing]

<center>And so, we build our castle of sand by the sea
so that when we depart, it shall be naught but a blissful memory.</center>

He liked the claim that everything in his life was premeditated--that he was in control of everything at any time. It was all a matter of drawing in the lines that connected the dots, which sometimes were done by his hand and sometimes done by someone else's. Private lines were abandoned for this phone call--he wasn't doing anything that involved any secrecy, or at least, the only person it needed to be kept from wasn't listening anyway.

"Hello an--"

"Yes, I'd like to purchase s set of tickets."

"Okay! All I'm going to need is the time and location."

"Maldives, undecided."

"Oh, excellent choice sir! Maldives is a very romantic place you know th--"

"I'm sure it is and I'll be sure to pass that along to my colleague and her daughter."

"Ohh..I'm s--"

"It's alright. Any way, I'm buying these as a gift for her, but she hasn't the slightest when her schedule is going to open up, so could you just take them from my account when she calls?"

"No problem Mister..."

"Maxwell."

The chipper end of a phoneline was slaughtered with the receiver. He wasn't going to tell her about them, instead he was going to wait for a day when he could just slip them under her door without any explanation.

He couldn't give her a castle in the sand, but he could give her the sand to build it.

[swing]

The sun hadn't even risen on the states when Grim boarded a charter to London--there the sun was on its waning way. His presence was brief, turning locks and gathering things with a kind of silence that only eluded him when he needed it most.

The flight to Germany was taken shortly afterwards, pushing him yet another hour forward out of his element. Fingers traced the edges of the aging heirloom as the plane touched down--some part of him wished it had cracked..

Minutes turned to hours until the day faded into dyed colors of evening--this was when he made his arrival to the Warheit estate. It towered over him like and asylum with fading brick and suffocating ivy that laced patterns along the windowpanes.

The attendant led him in with nothing more than the statement of his name. A winding marble staircase was climbed thereafter with surpassingly unwounded knuckles, though the rest of him was worse for wear. Smoke filled the hallway along with the faintest hum of Vivaldi and he followed both until he saw her--hunched over a desk with a hand reaching to pull the lamp closer to her.

"I wasn't aware that I would get a visit from you in person. Forgive me if I'm not dressed for the occasion, I have work to do."

The brunette didn't so much as turn her head from the stones she was examining.

"Yes, well we can't all be polite. I broug--"

Anika held up a hand and turned her wheelchair to face him before snapping words towards him.

"I know why you're here."

Grim's jaw tensed, sending still raw skin to chafe against the clean bandage as fingers tightened around the music box. Anika just laughed at him and shook her head.

"I see you have been fighting with your demons again, Grim."

Her voice dropped lower as she motioned for him to sit down.

"Pity you're still alive."

Grim closed the door and sat where she motioned, he knew her feelings on people standing in her presence and for once decided to comply with a wry grin.

"Perhaps, they were aware of my negotiation with an old friend."

To this Anika snapped at him, reaching for the music box which was handed over with little protest.

"Wir sind Freunde, Grimmig nicht."

"No, we're not friends."

"So, I am guessing that you desire another favor or you wouldn't have come all this way."

"I came to ensure that our negotiation was finished."

Anika laughed, it was a harsh sound of an embittered quality.

"Unsere Verhandlung ist beendet, Grimmig. Go home, you have no business here."

"You know.. "

Grim forward in his chair so that when he lowered his voice she could hear him.

"I should've aimed higher when I shot you and done everyone a favor. No one likes the sound of your voice, but you."

Anika sent the back of her hand into his face hard, the rings on her middle and index finger sliced through skin to create a gash that matched asymmetrical to the bandaged wound on his other cheek. He recoiled, raising a hand to his face.

"Do you talk like that to every woman or am I getting special treatment do to our....history?"

"Is that why you wanted it?"

"You didn't answer my question."

"You don't need an answer."

"Don't tell me what I need and what I don't, Grim. That's not your place."

Her words were a warning but he sent fingers to encircle her wrist the way they would have to her neck if he didn't enjoy seeing her suffer.

"Don't tell me what my place is."

She wrenched her wrist away from him with a cinched jaw, turning her dark stare on him for a moment before she let words loose.

"You are intolerable."

"And what are you, Anika? Nothing more than a--"

"Is this what you came here for? To insult me?"

Anika's words cut his off as she wheeled away from him.

"I take that back Grim, you're not intolerable. You're pathetic."

Grim shot up from the chair then.

"And you can't handle confrontation."

"Correction, you can't handle human interaction. Sit down."

She waved him off as he walked towards her.

"I told you to sit."

He sent the back of his hand into her face, nearly toppling her out of the chair but when she recoiled, fingers plucked up the hammer that sat to her right on the opposing desk and sent it into his kneecap. Grim fell in a grumble of pain and Anika spat on him.

"You came here seeking counsel, Grim. Because you have no one else.. Because no one else understands you like I do. You are weak because of it."

Grim was turning to stand and she sent the hammer to land in the back of his ribcage, satisfied with the crack she received for her action.

"How long has it been since she died and you still can't deal with it. You block everyone out and when it becomes to unbearable for you? You take it out on everyone. You act like you don't need anyone, when it's..."

She leaned over in her chair while he was still writhing on the floor, gasping for breath.
"Everyone who doesn't need you."

He tried to grab at her hand and she wheeled away from him.

"I'm going to wash your filth off of my hands. You had better be gone when I come back."

[swing]

The phone rang as it often did when he was in the middle of something that he deemed important--the gun was set down and his stereo was muted as he flipped open his phone and waited for the other end to speak their piece with him. This was the routine..A silent end and a sharp voice telling him the details of something, but instead he heard a hysterical background noise and the sound of Kelly's voice flooding his ear.

"She's gone..."

Grim murmured a location but only remembered the phone being placed down before the table was overturned as he rose, sending all of its contents smashing to the floor so that the panel within the dark wood shattered against the floor as well. He wasted no time in collecting anything, but instead drove to the location where he learned the message that was spoken from a shaken agent.

He was silent throughout the ordeal. His jaw only flexed at certain points in the story that was delivered to him.

The time had some indeed..

"Your sister is missing."

The phone was only crackled on and off long enough to get his message across.

[swing]

The wall had become his new counsel, slate eyes stared into the uneven layers of white paint in vain looking for an answer that wouldn't come from dry wall over wooden supports.Days passed and still nothing--the only contacts he had were composed of fraying leads and obliterated phones, so he had to wait until someone called him with something...

Anything...

It was almost as if he had willed the phone to ring upon the arm of the couch (as his table was still a mess of wood and shattered glass.) Fingers picked it up and the silence from a tense jaw ensued.

"Hello, this is Dr. Greenwood calling to confirm your appointment later this afternoon?"

"Right. Two o'clock, I'll be there."

He didn't wait for a confirmation that she had heard him before the phone was snapped shut. The crackling of a voice that wasn't involved in the extraction of Julia was a nuisance to him. Hours passed upon the clock until he finally loaded himself into the car and sat in the waiting room of Dr. Greenwood's office. Two children were chasing each other around as the classical ambiance of Bach filtered in from conveniently placed speakers on the walls.

Five minutes after two Dr. Greenwood came out to retrieve him with an offered hand and an apology.

"Terribly sorry to keep you waiting Mr. Maxwell."

He looked at the hand with disdain before offering words to the woman.

"I hope it won't become habitual. Shall we?"

She dropped her hand and nodded, motioning for him to follow her down the hallway that was a mural of abstract figures and geometric shapes of vivid colors. Pausing before the door she let him in first before sliding the folder she'd had tucked under an arm into the front slot of the door.

"Please, have a seat where ever you feel most comfortable with."

He chose the stiff backed chair with polished leather that yielded to no body type in front of an oak desk. She closed the door and crossed to sit behind the desk.

"You can talk about whatever you like, Mr. Maxwell."

She offered him a fleeting smile before pulling out a drawer in her desk to retrieve a pad of paper and a pen.

"Do you mind if we cut the formalities? I can see it's killing you."

The connotation on words was intentional as he pulled the gloves from his hands to stuff inside pockets before the coat was abandoned as well.

"Sure we can, Graham."

"Grim."

He was quick to correct her with a sharp look.

"Grim, excuse me."

Again she offered a fleeting smile as if it made her uncomfortable to stretch her mouth that way.

"I don't believe that I'--"

His phone rang and he was quick to pluck it from the pocket of his blazer and press it to his ear. Silence on both ends before it was snapped shut.

"Would you mind turning that off?"

"Yes."

The two of them sat in silence for a moment or two longer before she broke it.

"My name is Darlene."

"Darlene. Charmed."

The words were flat when they left his mouth and he wrung hands together in his lap as a child before a headmaster. She took the time to examine her Monet reprint painting that hung just above her certificate of psychiatry.

"Why do--"

His phone rang again and cut her off. The action of pulling it from a pocket and pressing it to his ear was repeated again. She moved to speak and he silenced her with an index finger that jutted up the moment she drew in a breath.

"Yes. I understand, I'm in the middle of something at the moment. Keep me posted if you find anything further."

The phone was then snapped shut and slid back into the pocket.

"You were saying?"

"Grim, will you please turn that off? It's very rude to leave something of th--"

While she was speaking he had moved just slightly to click the safety off the gun that rested at the hilt of his spine, before she finished he had risen from his seat and placed the barrel between her eyes.

"Just so we're clear, Darlene? I only came here to honor a promise to a friend of mine. I don't need your help, nor do I desire it. In fact, I'm sure you've already read my file and found, much to your suprise that I've had extensive psychological analysis and the conclusion is still the same. The next words that come out of your mouth had better be 'good day Mr. Maxwell,' because I'm not so sure that I can keep my finger steady longer than it will take for you say those words. Your check will be mailed tomorrow."

The gun left her forehead and she collapsed from the chair in hysterics. He turned on heel and replaced the gun in its place, draping his coat over a forearm.

"Good day Dr. Greenwood."

[swing]

London fog was thickening--he could feel its repulsive texture in the back of his throat when he awoke. In his London flat. Alone. He washed the sleep from his face with a palm and padded into the kitchen for a breakfast feast of cold cereal. There were no blonde haired girls laughing in his garden or brooding over his kitchen sink now. For the first time this place felt.... empty.

The day waned into several shows of mindless British broadcast and ignored phone calls. He didn't want to stay in, but he didn't want to go out either. He wanted.....

Dinner was created from several left over dishes and microwaves. He ate silently at the counter until he noticed the blinking green light atop his cellphone.(The only one that connected America to him.) The plate was disgarded as he flipped it open and listened to the message.

"Grim, it's David. I was ju--"

The message was erased before he had to hear any of the concern mumbled into the crackling line. The second message was a distinct murmur from an old friend that he simply couldn't ignore.

"Come back to New York."

He didn't bother calling her back, instead shutting the phone he smirked outwardly in the apartment air and went about packing his things. One bag and a set of car keys were all that he took from London with the promise that his car would be shipped over within the week.

[swing]

"Hey man, come on in." David was always polite to the killer who stood on his porch with a look of disdain.

"This had better be good, David."

"Oh c'mon man, you know I wouldn't take you away from your soap operas if it wasn't!"

Grim shifted to take his sunglasses off and David cowered away from him with hands raised in a white-flag position. Grim merely folded the sunglasses into his pocket and stepped through the door. David rubbed the back of his neck and laughed nervously before closing the door behind him.

"Let's get on with it then, shall we?"

"Right, okay. Well, you're going to need to sit down for this."

Grim cast a glance to the uneven folding chair that looked as if it had seen better days and was now content to retire with its cheap lacquer peeling off in patterns of states. Grim merely stiffened.

"That's quite all right, I'd rather stand."

"Well.. Okay, but.. I don't want you to freak out or anything, okay? I mean..I know how you ge--"

Grim lifted his hand again swiftly and David backed away with a bit of a shriek before he realized that Grim was only pinching the bridge of his nose.Clumsily, he started again.

"Okay..Well.. You know how I've been seeing this girl right?"

"Yes."

"And....You know that I like her a whole lot, right?"

".....Yes."

"And you know that I have ne--"

The click of a safety being flicked off was presented as the barrel of Grim's gun met a temple.

"Just.. Tell me what you need to tell me so that I can get out of this filthy apartment."

"..Uh..Hey..Uhm..Could you.."

"Oh for Christ's sake!"

The gun was removed from David's temple and placed back into its holster, while he wiped the sweat from his brow.

"Christy's got this friend named Karen..I was wondering if maybe you would take her out on a date and be nice.. You know, a kind of leave your gun at home thing?"

Grim was silent as he stared down the frightened techie. This made David very nervous and he fidgeted with things before completely knocking over his pen holder. David tried to pick the pens up and wound up just fumbling them back into the cup haphazardly.

"...All right."

David choked. "WHAT?"

"I said... All right. I'll take this woman out. If it's that important to you."

David, in one fell swoop was latching on to Grim and repeating the universal words of gratitude over and over again.

"David..."

"Yes, Grim?"

"This is Valentino."

"...Oh right." David detached from Grim and patted briefly at the man's lapels as if some dirt lingered there.

[swing]

The metropolitan skyrise pierced through heaven and stood out as an opaque black against a clear blue day--something he had not seen in this area in quite some time. The elevator taken was one that separated the corporation from the syndicate council members. His back was immediately twisted to face the door that had just closed in front of him as the opposing one opened at the top of the building.
They stood three abreast with pinstiped white prisoning them into their position of brute force and stoic visages. Dark doors with pristine handles were closed behind them and blared a reflection of what his namesake labeled him as--gaunt and holocaustic with pale skin and hollow eyes.

The party broke themselves apart its middle stone stepped forward to retrieve the weaponry on his frame--arms hung like Jesus as the thorns were plucked from his sides and collected. The other two held their suit jackets in place and used opposing hands to draw back the doors where a dozen empty high back chairs sat. At the end of the long lacquered ebony table Klavier rested with twin elbows and steepled fingers. When the doors had shut he rose from his position to offer a seat at his right hand.

"Mr. Maxwell, have a seat."

Stiffened joints creaked until Grim finally folded into one of the executive chairs, bracing a forearm on the tabletop. Klavier sat back down with a hand smoothing out the wrinkles in his sanguine colored tie. A file lay open before him and he splayed hands upon it while glacier eyes made contact with Grim's, they were slow and calculating of every twitch the man made. Nervosa racked his spine and twisted muscles uncomfortably over it, but no indication was made.

"Do you know why you are here?"

"I suppose you are going to tell me that, Mr...."

'Klavier."

Unblinking, his eyes were that of a serpent's just waiting for an opportune moment to strike. Grim held his ground with an even tone that bordered haughty only when he moved to articulate again.

"What is it that you are requesting of me, Mr. Klavier."

The man's smile was repulsive and cruel before he fell back into the chair. Fingers traipsed over the open pages of the file and fingers flicked at the photographs before he spoke.

"You are the best marksmen we have, Mr. Maxwell. Your report is beyond efficiency level standards."

"I've never missed a mark."

"I know.. Which is why I've brought you here."

The file was slid over carefully, his dusty eyes were still calculating Grim's movements as he read over the names and looked at the pictures.

"These are your marks."

Grim brought with him a grin of incredulousness at the folder first and then the man before it was closed and slid back over to him.

"You've got to be kidding me, she's not even a CIA operative anymore."

"She is a threat to our organization, with or without her status within that agency."

Silence passed between them for a minute longer that seemed to stretch out like a calendar day until Klavier leaned onto the table.

"You know her better than anyone. She has some level of trust with you, I think.. It should be a relatively easy assignment."

"Forgive me for being frank, but I honestly don't see the value in this."

"That's not your concern. Your concern is accomplishing your mark.
"
"Her child is not a threat and yet you've requested I eliminate her as well."

"I don't want this to just be an efficient job, I want this to be a statement, Mr. Maxwell. Either you do this, or I will do it myself and I can guarantee you that the consequences of which, will fall heavily upon you."

Grim leaned forward a moment, dropping his voice as fingers pried at the lacquer. Eye to eye and he was the one searching for any kind of trigger when his words dropped.

"I can assure you, Mr. Klavier, I'm quite capable of handling this."