Chapter 22: Captain Hooke

Bobby's secretary looked over her desk at the tall, well-built man standing in the lobby waiting for his appointment. Few things surprised her anymore; she had worked for Mr. Tyler for several years and was very good at judging people. But this man scared her.

He had been pacing around the office like a caged wolf, pausing at the apex of each circuit to check his appearance in the mirror at the end of the room. While his hand-tailored suit spoke of refined tastes and high quality, the scars on the hand that straightened the tie and smoothed the hair told of a more violent past, one that was only lightly wrapped in Armani silk and Savile Row culture.

She shivered as he looked at the wall clock over her head and tugged at his gold and diamond cufflinks for the tenth time. A soft chime in her headset let her know that Mr. Tyler was ready for this mysterious guest.

Relieved, she keyed the intercom and spoke into her headset. "A Mr. Paulus Hooke is here to see you sir"

The heavy oak door slid open silently and, without a second glance at the secretary, Hooke walked into Bobby's richly appointed office. His job as a "solo", a hired gun for the rich and immoral, had led him to appreciate the finer things in life. His practiced eye casually appraised the understated opulence of the politician's office. He relished the smell of expensive cigars and the way his footfalls were smothered by the deep pile of the carpet. Without giving any appearance of being impressed, Hooke turned the corner and came face to face with his employer.

Bobby Tyler sat behind his immaculately clean desk, his fingers pressed together and his mouth drawn into a thin, bloodless sneer.

"Who says crime doesn't pay?" Hooke said with a swagger.

"Shut the fuck up." Bobby was in a foul mood. "I ain't got time for your failures." He sat back in his chair; annoyance written all over his face.

"I gave you a simple task. Take care of a nosey reporter, I said. You, however, not only don't take care of her and you start a riot."

Hooke looked unperturbed but his eyes never left the smaller man. "The target had assistance from other subversives."

"Bullshit. You fucked up. Don't try and whitewash it with some ten dollar words and attitude."

Suddenly changing tack, Bobby unclasped his hands and smiled. He knew that he had pushed the assassin as far as he dared and it was time to change tack. Bobby pushed a large envelope toward the edge of the desk.

"But now I have another job for you." Bobby flashed his trademark grin. "I want you to find this girl and baby-sit her for a few weeks. Until after the election."

"Why not just kill her?"

"Paulus. My dear Paulus. I can't have you leaving bodies all over the Valley, I'm running on a law and order platform." Bobby smiled at his own joke. "Besides this girl would be missed. Just entertain her and deliver her to me in one piece after I'm a Senator. Think you can handle it?"

Hooke nodded almost imperceptibly. Bobby knew that no one called him Paulus. Hooke stood for a second, silently glaring back at Bobby's self satisfied smirk, before he turned and left.