The elevator door opens to the 20th floor. A man and a woman are standing there discussing stock trades. The woman asks, “Going up or down?” The stranger turns to Mr. Orr who responds with, “Up.” “Oh well we are going down,” the door closes before she can say anything else. The stranger presses the button to reopen the door, but nothing happens. The stranger asks, “Are you sure that wasn’t the floor you needed?” “Yes, I’m sure that wasn’t the floor.” “We didn’t even get a good enough look. You know that’s what I hate about these office buildings. Everything is just too fast. Get on get off. You know?” Mr. Orr puts his hand on his loaded revolver as the stranger looks away, “I agree.” He’s not going to shoot the stranger in the elevator, but he is going to need a way to convince him to do exactly as he says. The stranger grows even more impatient. He bought time by checking in at the desk, but if he doesn’t get to the meeting soon the deal is off the table. The elevator stops on the 25th floor and the doors open to reveal an empty floor.
The stranger looks puzzled at the site of nothing but the skeleton of a former office space. “Yep this is the floor,” Mr. Orr takes his gun and places it to the stranger’s back. “I think it is best if you join me.” Confused the stranger doesn’t know what to do. “What the hell is going on here?” He asks. Mr. Orr pushes him through the open elevator doors. The elevator doors just miss the back of Mr. Orr’s suit as they close, “No questions at least not yet.” Mr. Orr walks the man around the empty floor. There really is nothing on this floor but windows and frames of future walls. Convinced that they are alone on the floor he marches the stranger over to something he can see in the corner. Laying in the corner is a left behind office chair. “Pick up the chair,” he orders the stranger. Mr. Orr takes some rope out of his brief case as the man stands there shaking, “Sit in the chair.” Reluctant the man hesitates before Mr. Orr touches his back once again with the gun. “I had other plans for this rope, but sometimes things don’t go as planned.” Mr. Orr ties the man to the chair and positions himself behind him.
“Why, why are you doing this to me?” The stranger asks. Mr. Orr calmly takes his jacket and places it gently into his brief case, “Because I meet a man who looked like you once. And I killed him. Or as it may have turned out I didn’t. The thing of it is you can never be too damn sure. Yet that is my job. My place in this world. To make sure people stay dead. So you can understand why this isn’t personal. It’s just part of the job.” The silence of the room is taken over by the sound of the revolver blowing out the back of the man’s head. Mr. Orr wipes the stranger’s blood off of his face. He reaches into the back pocket of the stranger’s pants taking out the stranger’s wallet and opening it up. His name was Marvin Johnson and he was not the man Mr. Orr thought he was. “This has to end today. I can’t keep living like this. Marvin I am sorry,” he says to the corpse.
He opens his brief case and puts his jacket back on. The stranger is now another face that will haunt Mr. Orr. One more of the innocents he never wanted anything to do with. The years haven’t been kind to him. Bending him and shaping him into something he never wanted to be. Mr. Orr walks back to the elevators. Mr. Orr looks at his watch and presses the up button on the elevator panel. Before the elevator arrives he screws his silence on to his pistol. Placing it back into the holster inside his jacket. He places a small blade into his right jacket sleeve just out of view. Finally the elevator has arrived. Three business men look confused as he steps in and presses the 30th floor button without saying a word.
“I specifically had you brought in. I heard you’ve done a lot of work out of Chicago. Good work. So, I called you in,” Mr. Green says before taking a drink of his whiskey. Mr. Orr eyes him intently, “Thank you for your call.” He looks at the giant painting of Mr. Green sitting just behind its subject. He must really think highly of himself. “As I understand there’s a little bit of trouble happening on this side of the border.” Mr. Orr tries to fight back a smile. If it wasn’t for the money I wouldn’t even be here he thinks. “Right to businesses I see. Yes there is a little bit of trouble. Some people don’t understand who is really in charge around here,” Mr. Green is offended by Mr. Orr’s mocking of him, but he is the best there is. “A rival family has decided to move into my town. They’ve made it clear that they want this city, and now I need you to send a message that this is my town and will always be my town.” Mr. Orr nodes his head. I guess they’re all the same no matter where I go he thinks. Mr. Green starts up again, “There’s an illegal gambling casino owned by the son of the rival family.” “What’s the family’s name?” Mr. Orr asks. “What?” Mr. Green looks puzzled at the question. Mr. Orr restates his question, “What is the name of the rival family?” “Oh, oh the rival family’s name is Barr. Some Irish fucks who couldn’t make it in the states.” Mr. Orr again nodes his head, he pretends to not hear the difference in Mr. Green’s voice, but he did. Hard to believe some Irish mob would decide to give up and move up north. The Irish are not ones to just to give up like that, but I guess anything is possible. “The place is called Paddy’s Place and it’s on the south side of the city. I know that you are an expert at killing, but I am paying you extra however for you to not kill their son. I just want you to leave a message not start a war. Ruff him up a little, but don’t kill him.” Mr. Orr stares at Mr. Green, he thinks that all of this keeps getting stranger and stranger. Who hires a trained killer to just rough up some young punk ass kid? Why pay so much for only a message? More than one thing doesn’t seem right about all of this. Mr. Orr begins to open his mouth but is cut off. “His name is Ezekiel Barr.”
Mr. Orr steps into the crowded office floor of the 30th floor. Passing cubical after cubical he tries to appear calm through the sea of them. Moving through a maze of busy businessmen and women typing away at their computers or running to the copier. He walks to the secretary of the man he is there to kill. She is busy talking on the phone. Anyone walking on this floor would never think that the man in charge here is dirtier than a pig in shit he thinks. Mr. Orr asks, “Is the boss in?” The secretary waves her hand at him to hold on a second, “I’m going to have to call you back George. Ok sounds good.” Mr. Orr moves close to her desk in order to block her from the view of the rest of the room. She hangs up the phone and looks at her daily planner, “There’s no scheduled appointments for two o’clock, but I guess I can see if he can take you anyways. Just a moment.” Before she has time to pick up the phone Mr. Orr has taken the small blade and pierced it through her neck destroying her vocal cords. The secretary is still fighting to breathe making a gargling sucking noise. She is only making things worse for herself. The sound of her struggling isn’t loud enough to cause any alarm amongst her busy co-workers. Mr. Orr ends the secretaries suffering by stabbing the blade in the back of her neck severing the spinal cord. He lays her motionless body face first on her desk. Hopefully no one will notice the pool of blood building under her desk long enough for me to do what I need to do and get out he thinks. He quickly makes his way to the office door. Looking around before taking his pistol out of its holster inside his jacket. Mr. Orr turns the handle of the door and enters the office.
“Well hello Mr. Orr it’s a pleasure to see you again,” says the man behind the desk. “Hello Mr. Green, I don’t know if pleasure is the word I’d use for this occasion just yet.” Mr. Green stands up and gestures to a chair in front of his desk never flinching, “I assumed you were dead, at least that’s what I heard. There were rumors.” Gun still pointed directly at Mr. Green, “Maybe because you tried to have me killed in New York City. Even got pretty close to making it happen that time. Sadly there is not enough time to show you the scares.” Mr. Green grimaces before giving off a deep hearty laugh, “I’m afraid compare scares would be pointless at this point. He all have a few now don’t we?” Slowly making his way into the room Mr. Orr tries to keep him talking, “Why are you trying to have me killed?” Smiling, “As if you don’t really know deep down why. But what’s done is done so why not take a seat we have lots to talk about.” Mr. Orr takes two more steps into the room with the gun still pointed at Mr. Green, “I have nothing left to say to you Mr. Green. What’s been done has been done. For years now you’ve tried to set me up and destroy me. Every time you have failed, but now it’s my turn to succeed where you have failed.” The door slowly closes behind Mr. Orr as he cocks his pistol ready to fire. A whistling sound comes from behind Mr. Orr. It enters through the back of his head sending him to his knees and eventually to the floor.
“What a shame. He was the best assassin I’ve ever seen. What a pathetic way to go,” Mr. Green says to the killer that was waiting behind the door. “I told you I saw him standing in the elevator on the 20th floor with some guy in a navy suit dad,” the gunman with a huge scar on the left side of his face says. “And he was right about one thing, you did fail.” Ezekiel picks up Mr. Orr’s gun and points it at Mr. Green. “And what do you plan on doing with that gun Ezekiel? How do you expect this to end?” Mr. Green asks. Ezekiel pulls the trigger plunging two rounds into Mr. Green’s chest, “The way it should have ended years ago. The son becomes the king.”