Chapter 6, Bad News

“Police reports conclude that he IS dead, however, there is no cause of death, and no sign of visible wounds. Police reports are all consistent, that there were bullet-hole sized holes in the priest’s robes, yet, there was no entrance wound, no exit wound, there were no bullets, nor any gunpowder residue. The doors were not brutalized, and the screen was not damaged. Police are baffled by all of the lack of evidence, not even a single hair of evidence, nor a witness to such a heinous crime committed in broad daylight.

“The local church has been turned into a crime scene, and is now closed off to public use, until any evidence at all is found about what may have killed Mr. Jacobs. Our best wishes go out to our undaunted police force, who search for the cause of this death vigilantly.” The reporter droned on and on the police report, as James smiled. This was one of the best news reports in the history of news to him. all evidence missing! He stretched out lightly, getting comfortable, and thinking on this factor. If everything he’d done in life went off this smoothly, he’d never have had to sell his soul! He laughed at himself, before getting up and going to the kitchen to get himself some dinner, and a drink.

“In other news, the mayor has declared it a criminal offense to raise your middle finger to any man in town. There have already been complaints on this , by people who use this sign casually for one reason or another, such as teenagers, close groups of friends, and the like. They have started a petition to end this seemingly outrageous law, saying it violates the right to free speech. The mayor, however, says that free speech is only to be expressed as long as it is not to another man’s expense. There will be more on this story as it develops.”

James chuckles softly at this next article. It was amazing how stupid people tended to be, outlawing such miniscule things, and the people petitioning such fruitless laws. Nothing was going to come from either. The starting of the law would raise arrest rates and fines, as the petitioning would not cause the law to go away. He knew this town too well to think otherwise. It was sad, really, that people continued to try and change an immovable world, full of discomforts and small things that, when put into perspective, really didn’t matter at all to anyone. The only things people should bother with trying to change was Racism, and Rape. The two R’s of despicability. Murder, no matter the weight on one’s heart, was only preceding the inevitable, accelerating the ends by any means necessary… though, that didn’t mean it was always the correct course.

James moved back to his seat with a bowl of popcorn, and a large root beer-whisky cocktail. He set it all down onto the table, and grabbed the remote, about to change the channel, when something peculiar came on. He could make out the face of the dead priest’s sideman behind a pedestal. He was about to give a speech?

“My friends, my family, I have known you all for all my life. I have decided, upon my mentor’s death, that I will carry out his vision. I am leaving the Americas, and going to Iraq to spread faith in Christianity to Muslim peoples who have lost their home, and faith in all religion. The war has been as straining on them, as it has on us, If not more to them than us. I regret to inform you, this shall be the last time I see any of you. I bid you all a farewell, and I wish you all the best.”

James’s eyes went wide, as he listened to the man speak at his pedestal. He leaned forward, beginning to see all of his plans falling before his very eyes. “you… you’re fucking kidding me, right?” James said, shocked, staring at the T.V. as the coward on screen shook hands, and gave farewell hugs to friends and family. James couldn’t help but feel furious, his hand slowly clenching down on the sofa, his teeth gritting, before he raised his hand, shaking violently, and slamming down on the couch. He turned away from the T.V. and dropped down, sitting on the floor against the couch, curling up a bit, shaking with frustration.

James held his head a moment, as it was beginning to ache severely with the newfound stress he was beginning to feel. His next target was leaving to another country entirely. This would surely ruin his plans! He needed to take action immediately. But what could he do? He needed to get the bastard on his way to his plane. But, in plain sight? He couldn’t do it in front of everyone. He knew he couldn’t. He could sabotage the plane, but he really had no intent of harming more people than he needed to.

James groaned, and put his head against a wall, before sighing. The only real option he had left was to go to Iraq himself, technically. But there were many ways around that option, if you were a professional assassin… he wasn’t. He sighed. He needed a lot of money, then.

Now was probably a good time to bring up the anomaly on how James has survived all this time without a job of his own. His father, before he died, was the head of a large corporation. The building held major stocks in other companies that paid dividends to their stockholders, and not only that, they were a publishing company for popular books, under the Faust Fantasy Publishers Incorporated label, as well as the advertising business. It was, overall, a mega company, that practically runs itself. After James’s father died at the age of 74 of a still unknown disease that ate at the muscles, James became the little-known owner of the company, which gave him a massive bank account.

This asset did not make him proud, though. He never did like his father, or the company, being as it bought out many of the things he’d loved as a child, and destroyed them in one way or another. And not only that, but his father had destroyed so many peoples’ dreams and aspirations. He hated his father so much, He even hired one of the CEOs to take his place, and run the company for him, act as the company owner. Besides, he’d always had something better to do than run his “family legacy” like his father had so wanted him to do.

James was irritated at taking any part of his inheritance… if he had thought of it earlier, he probably would have given every last cent of it to charity…. Though, now, he was probably a little glad he didn’t. he sighed softly, and stood up, before sitting at the T.V., watching a movie or two. He probably wouldn’t have that luxury for a long time after this. After his movies, he went straight to bed.