NINETY-NINE

I walked briskly into the large room, it was a typical, bleak coffee-stained room with dirty walls. The scent of sweat, cigarettes and musky cologne hung in the air like a chandelier, there were pictures on the wall which were some kind of modern art, the furniture looked plain, uncomfortable, leather and black.

My eyes landed on a large man sitting at the center of the room. A long metal table with paper strewn across the surface, separated me from who I assumed to be the boss, he was flanked by men holding mean-looking guns, some I hadn't seen before in my life and that said a lot about the kind of people I was dealing with here.

I took a close look at him as I approached the table, my gaze wary as it darted from face to face trying to pick up a hint. The skin on his body looked like grade-three sandpaper, the consistency was unreal.

He lifted his face and pushed away his bowl of cereal as he saw me coming towards him. His face was badly burnt, the hair on his head was charred and would probably not grow again.

He scratched his face, his fingers grating over his hard skin.

Jon, as I had come to know him, was in front of me leading my every step, my eyes were glued to his black coat, he had put the detonator in one of the pockets.

I went over different scenarios on how to take the device without being suspicious, but I shook my head at all my ideas.

It was too dangerous, I couldn't risk my son being blown to pieces. A small part of me didn't believe any of this but I wasn't ready to call his bluff yet, till I knew my son and I were both safe.

"Welcome to Asgard, Gianna. We've all been waiting for this for a long time now. This meeting has been long overdue, forgive me for the time I wasted in setting up this meeting."

I looked at the man who spoke as he stood, he was a big tall man. I was by no means small, I was pretty tall and I weighed properly for a woman but I felt dwarfed standing in front of him.

I shook his outstretched hand as Jon pointed me to my seat. I wasted no time, he looked like a businessman and businessmen only wanted one thing - money.

"I'm willing to double the amount you were offered to harm me and my family, if you let us go. And, if you give me the name of who contracted your organization, I'll triple the amount." I stated as I adjusted my shirt, it was becoming hot in here.

"So, what do you say? Do we have a deal? I can get you the money in ten minutes if you decide to work with me."

I watched the man take out a cigar from one of the many trays on the table and lit it. He took a long drag before puffing out the smoke into the air. He glanced over to where I sat, a small smile playing on his lips.

"The weather is always a bit harsh during this time of the year. I've always hated the cold, G."

"I can call you G, right? You always loved that name."

I merely shrugged, unsure of what to say. They had done their homework, I had to give it to them. The name clearly caught me off guard but I couldn't let it show. My composure would play a big part in how everything would turn out. If I let them see how scared I was, it would be the same as putting a gun to my head and pulling the trigger myself.

"Do you smoke?"

He said again, his accent was much thicker than that of Jon. And, for the second time that morning, I cursed myself for my forgetfulness. I had spoken to these men before. I could remember the voice, it was the kind you could never forget. But, the face was difficult to place, maybe it was because theirs had gotten messed up.

"Not anymore." My smile was forced. I tugged at the collar of my shit, clearly uncomfortable. These men weren't sent by anyone, no one knew of my past. No one. I had made efforts to keep that part buried. These men were from my past, a loose end I had overlooked. Their tattoos were hidden from sight, they wanted me in the dark for as long as possible. I had taken out nearly every member of my old gang and the few who knew of my existence kept their mouths tightly shut and were sworn to secrecy. If someone had tried to come after me, I would have known instantly.

He took another long drag of his cigar blowing the smoke into the air. He was deliberately mocking me, I watched him repeat the procedure over and over again.

"Who are you and what the hell do you want?" I exclaimed, unable to keep my anger at bay any longer.

"You've always had a nasty temper, Gianna."

I froze instantly as I heard the familiar voice. All along, I forced myself to believe that he was dead and all of this was just a prank-an expensive joke that would be called off in no time but I knew better now.

"It's rude to stay silent when you're being spoken to, Gianna."

He was standing next to me now and I had no choice but to face my worst nightmare.

"Syrius," I turned to face him but I was stunned.

I could remember the voice quite alright but he looked different.

"You look confused, Gianna." Syrius laughed.

It felt like I was living in a simulation. Whoever this was, he was doing a fine job of impersonating Syrius.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"Syrius." He replied.

"Syrius is dead and even if he was alive, he doesn't look like you do." I retorted.

"After I miraculously survived the fire, my face had been burned terribly so I had no option but to undergo plastic surgery and after I was healed. I tracked you down to Manhattan and I started to watch you closely."

"I'd have spotted you."

"You would've if you knew what you were looking for. I'm the master of the shadows, Gianna, and I'm back."