“I know and I am certain plans may not go the way we want, but Gibson has a plan,” I told the man pacing back and forth in front of his desk as he chewed on what looked like a toothpick. His hair was long and black and fell just below his eyes in an almost bedraggled fashion that matched the stubble that lined his jaw. His dark eyes darted about constantly as though looking for danger or hiding places. I could see the faintest glimmer of gold glinting around him – the only sign of wealth within our tiny office. “It will work out,” I assured him again, for the third time this morning. “We’ve been working towards this since before you were born. We are close to finally reaching it now” He stared at me, a strange look passing through his eyes that was not fear but rather something akin to pride, something that made my insides squirm uncomfortably. For all his years in business it was easy to forget sometimes how young he really was, how o
When Gibson finished eating, he turned to his body guard and said, "Let's do this." His tone was confident, sure of himself in a way that only comes with confidence, an edge of danger, even though there are no enemies around for him to be concerned about. "We'll have to take the stairs. We don't want to make it obvious what we're doing.""You mean we can't just use the elevator?"The bodyguard, Sam, asked, incredulous. Gibson smiled in response to Sam's skepticism. He looked over at the security team who stood off to one side, watching them. They were all dressed for stealthiness, but their posture suggested that they'd probably rather be anywhere else than where they had to be now. "No, the lift has security cameras," he explained. It wasn't really the elevator that he was referring to. Not by a long shot. But Sam wouldn't understand, which was why Gibson kept talking. "It would look suspicious if we walked out of the elevator and took the stairs."He didn't know how long he could keep
“if you say that next time, you might get what you deserve.” Gibson said flatly, his expression completely unreadable from the inside out. His eyes were hard to read at all, which is saying a lot since they were normally one of those things that people couldn't read in the first place. He had on a white button down shirt under a navy blue blazer that went over it with black slacks and he looked perfectly put together for once. That was rare. Not that anyone else noticed this about him though - nobody ever did except for her. She thought it best to stay quiet after that comment anyway.It was the first day of classes for the new student students and most of them already knew that Gibson would be the only instructor who showed up early. As usual, Gibson himself was not going into class because he was still recovering from surgery several months ago, and so the other instructors were not present yet either. It took quite a bit of convincing (and she wasn't
“If this was the case, then Gibson isn’t the one to be scared about,” said Ryan quietly. ‘He’s got a good head on his shoulders, and knows how to handle himself, especially considering that he came out of hiding in a small town when it had never been more than a couple hundred miles from New York City. He’d have a lot going for him.’ A smile touched his lips at the thought.Gibson looked down the hall at him, and the corner of his mouth quirked upward for an instant before dropping into place. His eyes shifted away again almost as quickly, but Ryan caught the expression in them. It wasn’t a grin – it was a little sad, almost wistful. It didn’t look natural on him. ‘It must not be a day that comes every day,’ Ryan thought, trying to push aside a pang of pity. This guy had lost everything, including friends, family… even a woman who he had probably loved passionately, until it became clear there
If only Gibson did his business well enough to earn the money for his next flight back home. But no, he couldn’t do anything right. He was an idiot and a failure.It had started two days ago when he realized he didn’t have the cash to pay the fare. He’d spent all of it on plane tickets and hotel bills, so now he would have nothing. And that meant one thing: he would have to go back to work without earning any kind of income at the moment. That was the first day he’s been unemployed in years.He hated it already, but then he thought that if he got off this train, he might be able to find something he could do with his life. It wasn’t like he wanted to do the work; he just loved to see people who worked hard, doing hard things, making big money. Maybe that was how he’d end up making his fortune.But there was no way he was going back to being that kid working on his uncle’s farm anymore. Not after everything he’s seen happ
When Gibson got home, he couldn’t find his house keys anywhere and a quick look in the kitchen revealed that it had all but been gutted like an old woman for firewood. He wondered idly how much it was worth to have someone come over, clean it up and then go to work on his apartment before they left – or even if he could call anyone now without looking crazy as well as guilty.He found them on top of the fridge where he’d left them when leaving work at two in the morning last night, which seemed like only yesterday. The clock read ten past six, and although he hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep the previous night he felt more rested than he had in some time. Not enough sleep and not enough energy, maybe, but he could feel his headache getting better already. He knew that it would come back tomorrow after he ate something and slept some more.For dinner, though, he decided to just microwave leftover chicken nuggets and salad from one of the boxes that
Days went by and Gibson was wondering what went wrong with his business partner’s family.His wife had just given birth to her first child, who was now four years old, while he was working on an important project for their clients. She wasn’t going to be able to leave work soon as she had to help take care of two small children. And since they were in a hotel, it would probably be at least another week before they could get back to their home. Which meant he needed to go out there and find something to make that little girl smile again. Something that would make him feel more confident than he felt right now. He had no idea where to start finding things for a baby. They should have come with the package or at least have been sent already. There hadn’t even been a mention about it yet in the paper…He sighed tiredly and rubbed his forehead. “Why me?” he asked out loud without meaning to. “This is really not what I need right now!&r
Gibson sighed and adjusted his tie. He’d been in a foul mood all day since that stupid letter from the Department of State arrived yesterday, but no one would have thought it to look at him now, standing next to his desk with a frown on his face. His secretary sat down at the other end of her mahogany desk, nervously fiddling with her pen as she stared at her boss’s closed office door. “Mr. Gibbs, there’s a man outside your office. Would you like me to ask him if he can come back later?” The secretary whispered, almost inaudibly. She was a petite thing, barely five feet tall and very pretty, even when she looked like this. ‘Not so bad’ had been what everyone used to say about her when they’d first met her. Now though, after months of working for Gibbs… well, nobody really knew what was going on with her. Gibbs nodded and said, “Yes please,” before taking the chair next to his secretary's desk. “I don’t know how long he will take. I should probably let him know.” “Okay. Uh… do you n
Gibson told his business partner he was heading out for lunch on his day off, and the man simply smiled and said, “Be careful. And don’t forget your phone. It will get you killed in this city.” Gibson didn’t know if it was the joke or the fact that the man knew who he was talking about, but something inside him tightened up just a bit at the remark. The rest of the day was spent trying to figure out what could have happened with his phone, which had gone missing during the night. But after all that work, he finally found it, wedged between two bookshelves in the back room of the bookshop where he lived. He picked the device up off the floor and put his clothes back on before leaving the shop, but then stopped by his desk and took a few extra minutes to pick up his badge and gun and pocketknife, as well as a small package that contained a spare set of keys to his apartment, in case he couldn’t make it home. But when he arrived back in the shop, he was surprised to find his partner al