Rise of the lowly janitor

Chess piece

*Jake POV*

One more glance at the president, a quick scan in the office and there it is. My heart starts racing and the sense of calmness and extreme alertness washes over me like euphoria. Picking up the sharp metallic portrait from his desk, I grab the president by his elbow and usher him towards the door.

“Jake?”

I don’t quite understand why he seems confused by my actions but there is a threat here, I am certain of it.

I have just turned the door knob without giving him any explanation when a voice I have only heard once but will never forget, speaks.

“We mean no harm, Mr Anderson.”

Mr Smith and another grey haired man around his age, stand at the far end of the office. There must be a secret door in here or some illusion of sort because I did not see them in here earlier and I did thoroughly scan the room

“What was it that gave us away?” the other man asks, curiously.

I look at the president, searching him for any clues of weather I should let my gut down or not.

He nods, before walking back to his desk and taking a seat.

I don’t know what to make of any of this yet but the president’s body language is reassuring. I take a few steps back to be able to focus on the two men, whom I can tell are weighing and dissecting me with their eyes.

“This is Len Miller, I am Tom. We are the guardians AKA ARF,” the man I know to be Mr Smith says carelessly, sending my head spinning.

Asherway Restrictive Fraternity (ARF) is not a myth after all! I heard stories of what these people did, now I wonder how much of those are true. I, however, now have bigger problems than the mysterious organisation, my life.

“Are you going to kill me?” I ask point blank. I might as well know.

They look at me with confused expressions.

“You have kept yourself a myth for a reason,” I add and Len beams.

“He’s Dan, alright!”

Tom frantically shakes his head and limps towards me. I back away two steps and steadily holds the portrait in my hand. If they are truly what they say they are, then I am either a target they want to wipe out, or a loose end they have to tie or someone to use. I have also not forgotten that the last time I met Mr Smith, I was beaten so badly, I needed medical attention. Either way, I need to be few feet away from them.

Tom bursts out in a victorious manner. “You are wrong, mate. Den was lethal but Oli was the forever alert and suspicious one.”

“You knew my parents,” I suddenly feel like I have been punched really hard on my tummy. If these two are ARF, then the dishonourable discharged officer who claims that my parents were ghost agents may be right.

“You were ready to get the president out of here. What gave us away?” Len repeats his earlier question. He even looks and sounds agitated, but I have no intentions of answering anything until I get answers of my own.

I back away a few more feet and stop right at the door. “How did you know my parents?”

“I asked first,” he snaps.

I am surprisingly not bothered by that because he suddenly looks like a prey than a predator.

“It’s not a competition, Len.” My authoritative voice shocks me too. It looks like there’s even more I don’t know about myself than I thought.

Tom tethers. “Stubborn and daring, you have to agree, that’s Livy.”

“Fine, you win, but the arrogance is all Dan.”

“I will give you that,” Tom concedes.

“I hate unanswered questions. Wha…at gave us away?” Len is really agitated now, he yells while taping his foot.

I stand by the door staring at them, not the least deterred by his tone. We seem to have reached a stalemate because I have no intentions of responding to anything until they tell me what I want to know. They have addressed my mother as Oli and Livy, nicknames only my father used. Not only that, they seem to know and be in agreement on my parent’s personality traits, traits I don’t even remember.

“They are the ARF founders who recruited and trained your parents,”the president says before gulping down the whiskey I did not even see him pouring.

The two old men turn away from me and give the president deadly stares.

The room is suddenly chilly. The way they are right now unsettles me. Maybe it’s the way their eyes seem to communicate or how their heads both tilted to the left or the way their hands simultaneously moved into their right pockets. Maybe it has finally dawned on me that I am in the presence of well trained killers.

“You tell him the truth or I will. I told you this already,” the president continues and lifts his empty glass up before grinning at them.

I wonder if he can tell that the two men look like they are ready to pounce at him or the neutral faces they are portraying is deceiving him.

I, on the other side am certain that they will attack the president any moment now.

“He is the president, surely you have restrictions,” I suggest and they both turn to look at me with huge grins.

“Oh, they don’t,” the president waved his hand dismissively.

“This whiskey could be poisoned, I could be stabbed to death in my sleep or shot by a sniper during a presidential address and my autopsy report will say I had a stroke or heart attack,” the president rambles on while they roll their eyes.

“Roll your eyes all you want. Jake here is my new bodyguard. You can’t kill me, suckers,” this man actually jump off his chair excitedly.

Len is the one who catches him, blocking his fall and roughly throws him back into his chair.

“You are drunk Stern, that’s a disgrace to the office you represent.” Len is not impressed.

“Says a drunkard,” the president sneers making Len to grit his teeth.

“I am no president!”he snaps.

I am no shrink but this man has serious anger issues that no one besides me seem to worry about.

“Yet you have power over all,” it’s the president’s low melodic response I can only interpret as disdain.

I have no idea what the dynamics are here but power struggle is on top on the cards. I seem to be a chess piece these three are strategically moving around.

“Shut up, Stern! If we wanted to kill you, you would be dead and Jake can’t be you 24/7 bodyguard,” Tom jumps in and I have no doubt that he means exactly that.

I don’t even know why they seem to think they can’t kill him when I am around. They are ARF agents while I am a very confused piece of the puzzle.

You would think that would stop the president from talking, no, he continues.

“These two killed your parents and my Lucy,” he blurts out and spreads out his arms. “There, I’m done,” he adds and loudly exhales.

“What?”