absorption, searching for any aberration from what he knew. There were none. He wanted no surprises that might compromise this mission, though he was more than capable of dealing with them should they arise. His actions were programmed in infinite detail and with split-second timing. He was organized, concise, and prepared for anything. So much depended on the smallest detail, no matter how insignificant it may appear to be. No one knew this more than him. His job depended on details. And most often, his life. There was nothing to worry about. Nothing had been left to chance.
Satisfied, he stood, walking over to the pane glass window and contemplated the cold December sky. As he watched, snow-laden clouds churned slowly, pushed by whistling winter winds. The end of the year was drawing to a close along with his current mission. For nearly eight months he had been in place and now in less than three weeks, it would be over. Another distant memory among many that would be remembered only in a detached sort of way. Like a memory belonging to someone else. A page from someone else’s life, someone else’s past. It was something he was becoming more and more used to.
Several years had passed since he had been in the States with his last two missions requiring him to be in far more remote areas of the world. And though he could become anyone with seemingly innate skill, he had to admit he thoroughly enjoyed being Seth Reynolds, personal assistant to one of the richest men in the country. This guise was decidedly more laid back than some of his previous roles in the past but that did not belie the significance.
Though cold and impersonal, he had gotten used to this persona, finding it somewhat refreshing. He was going to miss it. All the more reason to finish this up and move on. He had no room for misguided sentiments in his life. When this objective was complete, he would bid the United States farewell without looking back. And without remorse. Something he was able to do quite easily, abandon one assumed name and life for the next. The result of a constant and incessant routine. All done with an automatic response and inhuman detachment. Which was just as well considering most of the time he didn’t feel human. In fact, he usually felt nothing at all.
And that was just how he needed to be. You couldn’t survive in this business very long if you allowed emotions to control your actions. Emotions were completely useless and nothing more than a liability, a hard lesson he had learned long ago. He was well trained to be resilient and decisive. Unfeeling and impervious to pain, anger, love, tenderness. If need be, he could be gentle, even merciful. But if not, he delivered justice without a second thought. Or regret. Whatever the situation called for, he did it quickly and efficiently. Without question.
Adjusting the wire rimmed glasses that were as much a part of the Seth Reynolds persona as the somber gray suits he wore, he stepped away from the window and the cloudy skies. In just a few short hours, this house would be filled with people, wine, and music. He had carefully planned the large charity event months ago. By overseeing each and every detail, he had the necessary control of the situation. Crossing the room as silently as a ghost, he opened the library door and stepped out into the hallway. With one last look around, he quickly pulled the door closed, leaving nothing behind, as if he had never been there at all.
Chapter 2
Madison had been on the Staten Island Ferry numerous times, a twenty-five minute ride she never grew tired of. The sharp sound of the waves slapping against the hull of the ferry and the crisp breeze blowing through her hair always gave her a sense of unbridled freedom. Out here, on this boat, watching the water and sky meet, the troubles and pressures of her day always slipped away as smoothly as silk over skin, leaving her refreshed and relaxed. That was definitely not how she was feeling now.
Satisfied, he stood, walking over to the pane glass window and contemplated the cold December sky. As he watched, snow-laden clouds churned slowly, pushed by whistling winter winds. The end of the year was drawing to a close along with his current mission. For nearly eight months he had been in place and now in less than three weeks, it would be over. Another distant memory among many that would be remembered only in a detached sort of way. Like a memory belonging to someone else. A page from someone else’s life, someone else’s past. It was something he was becoming more and more used to.
Several years had passed since he had been in the States with his last two missions requiring him to be in far more remote areas of the world. And though he could become anyone with seemingly innate skill, he had to admit he thoroughly enjoyed being Seth Reynolds, personal assistant to one of the richest men in the country. This guise was decidedly more laid back than some of his previous roles in the past but that did not belie the significance.
Though cold and impersonal, he had gotten used to this persona, finding it somewhat refreshing. He was going to miss it. All the more reason to finish this up and move on. He had no room for misguided sentiments in his life. When this objective was complete, he would bid the United States farewell without looking back. And without remorse. Something he was able to do quite easily, abandon one assumed name and life for the next. The result of a constant and incessant routine. All done with an automatic response and inhuman detachment. Which was just as well considering most of the time he didn’t feel human. In fact, he usually felt nothing at all.
And that was just how he needed to be. You couldn’t survive in this business very long if you allowed emotions to control your actions. Emotions were completely useless and nothing more than a liability, a hard lesson he had learned long ago. He was well trained to be resilient and decisive. Unfeeling and impervious to pain, anger, love, tenderness. If need be, he could be gentle, even merciful. But if not, he delivered justice without a second thought. Or regret. Whatever the situation called for, he did it quickly and efficiently. Without question.
Adjusting the wire rimmed glasses that were as much a part of the Seth Reynolds persona as the somber gray suits he wore, he stepped away from the window and the cloudy skies. In just a few short hours, this house would be filled with people, wine, and music. He had carefully planned the large charity event months ago. By overseeing each and every detail, he had the necessary control of the situation. Crossing the room as silently as a ghost, he opened the library door and stepped out into the hallway. With one last look around, he quickly pulled the door closed, leaving nothing behind, as if he had never been there at all.
Chapter 2
Madison had been on the Staten Island Ferry numerous times, a twenty-five minute ride she never grew tired of. The sharp sound of the waves slapping against the hull of the ferry and the crisp breeze blowing through her hair always gave her a sense of unbridled freedom. Out here, on this boat, watching the water and sky meet, the troubles and pressures of her day always slipped away as smoothly as silk over skin, leaving her refreshed and relaxed. That was definitely not how she was feeling now.
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