Chapter 23

Nyx couldn’t believe that he was back in his New York apartment so soon. To him, it felt all wrong. After a quick visit to his storage unit to gather some equipment, he was right back to where it all started. He occupied his time with some pull-ups while waiting for Lucious to arrive. They had agreed to meet around ten in the morning. Lucious would stay the night as they both readied themselves for tomorrow’s event. Finally, he would be rid of this Edward Brandt that had been searching for him.

The knock at the door startled Nyx. Even though he was expecting it, he was not used to having company at one of his remote apartments. He unlatched the deadbolt and opened the door. “Any trouble finding the place?”

Lucious stood there with an overnight bag in his right hand. “No. Google maps did a superb job, as usual. You have to admit that technology can be grand.”

“Sure.” Nyx was more than tired of hearing about technology. Lately, to him, it was just a leash that tightened around his neck. Somehow, someone found a way to allow technology to control people. If he could escape it, he would be well on his way to some desolate part of the world to live out his days. “The apartment isn’t much but find a spot.”

“Thanks.” Lucious placed his bag near the coffee table and eyed the recliner. I guess this will be mine.

“Coffee?”

“No thanks.”

“It’s probably for the best. All I have is this freeze-dried crap that probably expired years ago.”

Nyx filled an aluminum kettle with water and placed it onto the electric stove. Waiting for the water to boil, he may as well have made chit-chat with his guest. “How have you been doing with the part that you are playing in this?”

Lucious sat down in the recliner, clearly exhausted from the long cross-country drive to get to New York. “A walk in the park.”

“Any questions?”

“No. I am simply a new patient for Joyce, that is going through some severe stress and anxiety at work.”

“And you think you can sell it?”

“Absolutely. I am going through stress and anxiety at work. This whole arrangement is new to me and to you I presume.”

They both silently understood the situation that they were in and the lack of comfort it provided. They were careful not to talk about their agitator too casually, as they never knew when Avery was listening. It was simply a game they had to play until they were no longer needed.

“That’s true. I feel like I’m in need of a psychiatrist as well.”

“Are we sure this Brandt guy hasn’t made it home yet? It’s been a few days.”

“The latest update this morning is still not home, and still no location. I kind of wish he was at home. We could simply surprise him without all of the theatrics.”

“I was never in the theater but I am pretty sure I can pull this off.”

“How about we go over it again, shall we?”

The plan was for Lucious to gain Joyce’s trust and sit through a full therapy session. Once concluded, Lucious would claim that his car was broken down and ask for her help. He was banking on the idea that he would be reinvited inside to make a phone call. During the second encounter, he would make the move and end her life. Nyx’s job was to act as a bystander. Witnessing a man covered in blood exiting the house and calling the authorities. Any nosey neighbors would also be able to back up the claim.

They didn’t know how long it would take for Brandt to get the word, but they knew he would be on his way as soon as he found out. Surely a man in law enforcement had friends that could get word to him quickly. Nyx knew that the entire act would draw a lot of attention, but this was Avery’s idea, not his. He would rather have done this silently. Waiting for Brandt to get home on his own terms or Avery finding his location and enacting his own personal methods at a time he chose. It did occur to him that perhaps Avery was using the ongoing events involving the President as a means of cover. Nobody was going to pay attention to news about some deranged psychiatry patient who lost his nerve and killed his therapist.

“Yes. Very theatrical. Seems like it puts me at quite a risk, thought. You know everyone has those security cameras these days.”

“I’m sure that’s taken care of. Avery will probably wipe any recorded video before the police even show up.”

The steam from the kettle started to whistle, and Nyx turned back to remove it from the hot surface. Coffee was not his go-to beverage, but he found that it helped with the new stresses put into his life.

He poured a generous amount of hot water into a coffee mug filled with the freeze-dried grinds. After giving it a good stir, he took a sip. Immediately he coughed and pulled the mug away from his face.

“That good?” Lucious took a rare opportunity to jest.

“Tastes like death. Bitter, stale, and burnt. It’s delicious.”

Lucious erupted with laughter, but Nyx was not joking. He really did enjoy his coffee that way. After seeing so many people dump all types of sweeteners, creams, and bakery toppings into their coffee, he felt people lost what it meant to enjoy a regular cup of joe. Why turn it into a sugary cake that puts you into a glucose coma, when it’s supposed to wake you up?

Nyx put the mug onto the small dining table and walked across the room to pick up his duffle bag. He emptied the contents of his duffle bag that he retrieved from his unit storage earlier onto the table. Two small caliber handguns, a couple of extra magazines, and a hunting knife scattered across. “Pick your instrument.”

“I’m alright, I have my own,” Lucious insisted.

“Has it been used recently?”

“Yes.”

“Then pick one.” Nyx did not like the thought of reusing weapons in the short term. He generally retired a weapon for one to two years before he would feel comfortable using it again. While he could likely afford the luxury along with the help of Avery, it was an old habit for him, and he wasn’t about to budge.

Lucious walked over and picked up the Springfield XD nine-millimeter to examine it. He performed a function check to ensure that the firing pin still operated, and the slide wasn’t too stiff. “This one.”

“Good choice. I have a few memories that I won’t get into with that one.”

“I’ve handled a few of these in my time.”

“Great. Now you get to clean it. The kit is in the closet.”

The two sat across from each other at the table. Lucious took apart the Springfield while Nyx disassembled the remaining pistol, a nine-millimeter Glock 17.

“When did you last clean this?” Lucious asked as he examined the barrel to find a significant carbon buildup.

“Could not have been less than a year ago.”

“How is the rest of the team holding up?” Lucious was genuinely curious. Being pulled abruptly from what had become routine tasks had built up a small part of camaraderie within him as of late.

“I don’t really know. I just forward the information that Avery sends. But I always get the reply that they had already received their orders. It makes me wonder what my role is in this anyways.”

“Perhaps you should find comfort in that your role is not an over-burden.”

“Sure,” Nyx said as applied another generous amount of cleaner, lubricant, and protectant otherwise referred to as CLP onto the patch inserted into the cleaning rod.

“Are the two boys still paired up?”

“Yes. They are after someone named Dr. Mark Philips.”

“Another doctor?”

“He’s some kind of computer scientist. I didn’t read much of the details. I guess anyone can be a doctor of anything now.”

“Yeah. Soon chefs will only be referred to as food doctors.”

Impersonating a restaurant patron, Nyx quipped, “Excuse me, waitress, can you make sure the doctor in the kitchen prepares my steak medium?”

They both laughed over the impersonation as they completed their function checks of the freshly cleaned handguns.

“Had there been any word on a replacement for Tremor?”

The name brought Nyx back down from the rather relaxed atmosphere they had shared a moment ago. “No. He was reckless and unprofessional. Furthermore, putting all of us in jeopardy. Who knows what he might have told someone before he died. I have to ask that you don’t share the same fate.”

“It’s just his wife. Edward Brandt won’t even be home.”

“We can’t be blind to any surprises. Keep that gun in your car tomorrow. We don’t need her to raise the alarm.”

“Of course.”

“What time is the appointment again?”

“One-thirty in the afternoon. Most people should be at work, so maybe there won’t be many onlookers passing by.”

“That’s what I’m hoping for.”