For a few moments, Jonathan Cray looked at his savior.
The young man's dark skin was in stark contrast to his gray eyes, which were filled with an intense gaze. Jonathan knew he was being evaluated, and he let the young man evaluate him. It wasn't because Jonathan was afraid. It was to allow the young man to run through all the possible scenarios is his mind and exhaust them, leaving behind a mind unhindered by conflicting ideas.
Jonathan was patient, a trait the he had developed mercilessly in his younger days, when his father had handed him the keys to a dying business. Raising Cray Pharmaceuticals to its present standing was no trivial feat, and one of the qualities that Jonathan developed was to evaluate his opponent thoroughly. He would not go on the offensive if he did not have the upper hand. Despite how long the situation stretched on for, Jonathan was always confident that he would come out on top. If he wasn't in an advantageous position, he would grab it by using any means necessary, even it meant he had to play dirty. Or violent.
Maitho did not know what to make of the situation. Thoughts zipped through his mind, each one vying for his attention, as though his brain was holding a popularity contest for ideas. He grabbed a thought, analyzed it, and discarded it immediately if it did not make sense. The situation suddenly did not seem like a rescue mission. And the "children" the old man referred to were most likely the two people lying on the floor.
Why were his "children" trying to rob him? Were they adopted? They looked nothing like the older Cray so it is highly likely that they were. It is either adoption or this is some sort of cult and the old man here is a father figure. They probably call him "Father" or "Sir" or something twisted.
"Are they adopted?" said Maitho.
"They are," said Cray, his eyes now looking unperturbed, despite the violence that had erupted in his room less than a few minutes ago. If he was concerned about his so-called children, then he wasn't showing it.
The woman was on her side and was slowly picking herself up from the ground. Her partner, on the other hand, was still knocked out on the floor. Maitho knew that a Taser wasn't supposed to render a person unconscious. Was the weapon really that strong?
In the off-chance that something unexpected would happen, Maitho stepped back and positioned himself at the doorway. He gave a quick glance into the corridor, confirming that it was devoid of any life. At least that helped him relax a bit, knowing that someone wouldn't sneak up on him.
"I see you are a cautious man, Mr. Oruba," said the senior Cray, tilting his head to one side, as though he were inspecting a strange species of animal.
Maitho suddenly realized that he had gotten himself involved in something that was far more than a mere robbery. He wanted to flee the house, to head back to his apartment and get a good night's sleep, complimenting himself on a job completed.
But he did not run. He did not even so much as take a step back. Whoever these people were, they had lured him to this house.
And he wanted to know why.
"I see you have already heard of me," said Maitho.
"Oh yes," said Cray. He crossed his legs and placed his hands on the chair's armrests. For all intents and purposes, he looked like he was about to give orders. "You are Maitho Oruba and you are what your kind like to call yourselves as 'The Guardians.' Each of you possess a unique ability and your job is to save the lives of certain individuals within a certain time limit, or else face your own death. Am I doing well so far?"
"And how did you come across this information?"
Cray smiled. His expression made him look like a wolf that is about to pounce on an unsuspecting prey. Here was a man who liked to be several steps ahead of his opponent. Maitho had to tread carefully. At least the old man did not know of his powers. "A magician never reveals his secrets and I for one strive to be a performer, Mr. Oruba."
Maitho considered Cray's response for a moment. The man had sinister motives and that much was clear. But what was the end goal?
The woman had now pushed herself into a seated position and was throwing daggers at Maitho through her eyes. She rubbed her jaw, wincing once when a certain spot seemed to feel sore. Her partner continued to lie face down on the floor, either pretending to be unconscious or he was actually in the world of dreams.
Before anyone could react, Maitho placed a well-aimed kick to the man's shin. The reaction was instantaneous. With an audible gasp of pain, the man rolled onto his back and fixed Maitho with an icy glare. In his hand was a revolver that he clenched with both hands, pointing directly at Maitho. The woman was now in a crouch, holding her knife and looking like she wanted nothing better to do than plunge the blade into her attacker's chest.
"Is this the main act then?" Maitho said. "Is my death the final part of your plan?"
Cray raised one of his eyebrows, as though he was amused by something. "My dear boy. If we truly wanted to kill you, then we could have done so when you had retired for the night in your rather minimalist apartment, if I may say so myself. Apartment 8. Owned by a certain Mr. Jizo Imai, if the latest records are correct."
The old man paused and a cold chill traveled through Maitho's spine. He couldn't help but feel frightened of the physically weak human being in front of him. It was as though his life was being unraveled before him. He felt helpless, like a rabbit caught in a magician's trick and unable to do anything but wait for the act to finish. His mind was racing to create answers. His thoughts were free falling into a dimension of doubt, fear, and questions. He didn't want to lose focus, not when there were two armed people in the room with him, both of whom looked like they needed only the smallest excuse to use their weapons. He forced himself to look at the three people in front of him and quieten his thoughts. He was fortunate to be standing near the door, since his view included all three members of the Cray family in front of him.
When Maitho was able to establish a sense of calm, a single train of thought started to make itself known, as though it was breaking through the surface of jumbled ideas and fear-inspired rationales.
"Your life was in danger. I am alerted about a person who is genuinely in danger. There is not way you can fake that."
"Oh I didn't."
Maitho blinked in surprise. The reaction seemed to make the older Cray smile. Obviously some part of him thought that he had won a small victory.
"Hold on. You were really going to die. Did you actually tell your own children to kill you?"
"Adopted."
"But still family, Mr. Cray."
Jonathan Cray produced an exaggerated sigh. The man clearly loved to be theatrical and in control. When control was in his hands, he would drag the situation for as long as possible, making sure his opponents knew who was in charge and keeping them feeling powerless for quite a while. All of his actions pointed towards a man afflicted with a high degree of narcissism. Perhaps even psychosis. Maitho knew many people like him. And they were usually dangerous.
"What is family but an extension of yourself. It's like having additional pair of hands and legs. But that is something you wouldn't know, would you Mr. Oruba. What with your parents both dead."
The words pierced Maitho's heart. He clenched his teeth and – despite knowing that he was playing right into the old man's psychological trap – exhibited a brief moment of anger. He managed to temper the emotional flames roiling inside him, but Cray obviously caught the reaction, as his smile grew wider.
"How did you do it?" The male Cray junior spoke. Maitho couldn't help but be impressed with his recovery and wondered if the man's fitness regiment included Taser resistance development.
Cray senior moved his eyes to look at his son. The rest of his body lay still, as though he had just turned into a menacing statue.
"Are you referring to his powers Zafer?"
"Indeed father. I think this cretino can control people. Do you remember saying anything to us before he came into the room?"
"I did not. But if he can control people, why he did not control you or Zefina?"
"Maybe he can only control the mind of a specific person." This came from Zefina and Maitho immediately noticed that she had closed the distance between them ever so slightly. At this point, he knew that the three Crays were not going to kill him. Which only meant that their main purpose was to capture him somehow. But why? For what nefarious purpose? Maitho did not know and he was not going to stay longer to find out. He already understood that they knew so much about him. It would be better to make his exit soon and find a place to properly evaluate the situation.
Cray spread his arms wide, the grin on his face now seeming like it was a permanent fixture. "And why can't Mr. Oruba control anyone else, I wonder? Is it because of personal choice? Does he not prefer to harm people?"
"Hardly," Zafina said, shifting the knife from one hand to the other. She wanted the eye to follow the movement of the knife. A distraction tactic. Maitho noticed her leg shift forward a few inches. "He could have controlled Zafer and knocked me out. It would have been easier to dispose of us that way."
The situation was getting way out of control. Maitho needed to act soon. He knew that if he bolted and made a run for it, then he would find himself with a bullet embedded in his body. He wasn't sure how good a shot Zafer was and wasn't in the mood to experiment the man's aiming capabilities.
"So how do you do it Mr. Oruba? How does your power work?" said Cray.
Maitho allowed himself to give a small smile. He didn't want to intimidate anybody, but he couldn't help himself. If these people were planning on taking him, they wouldn't do it with him looking like a helpless puppy. "A magician never reveals his secrets."
Jonathan Cray burst out into a croaky laugh. It almost sounded like his lungs were filled with fluid. The sound seemed to enhance his frail stature, yet despite the physical indications of weaknesses, the old man still exuded an aura of power and threat. It was not his boy, but his mind that was his biggest weapon. And it was a weapon of considerable destruction.
"You are full of wit, Mr. Oruba. I like a man with a fighting spirit," said Jonathan Cray.
Maitho did not respond. An idea appeared in his head. It had a slim chance of success, but under the circumstances, there was no time to ponder about probabilities.
They had no idea how his power worked.
If Maitho's plan did not work, then he would attempt to attack Zafer and allow the olive-skinned man to discharge his weapon. A well-placed shot to a vital part of the body should be enough to kill anybody. Maitho had never considered suicide. He had been fighting for the chance to live a little bit longer ever since he discovered his unique predicament. There were times when the thought of having just one month to live filled him with a powerful existential crisis. But he would manage to push aside any life-threatening thoughts before they could take root in his mind. This time however, he was concerned more about living than being dead. What will the Cray family do to him if they capture him? Would he be forced to work for them? Would he become an experiment? Although Maitho could not think of any knowledge he had that could prove to be valuable to the Crays, he was under no illusion that the family of three already had something planned for him. And deep down, he was perhaps frightened of that unknown plan.
With all three Crays looking at him, he knew he could not simply close his eyes to control the mind of the old man. Someone closing their eyes longer than a few seconds in a situation such as this would immediately rouse suspicion. What Maitho needed was a distraction.
Maitho stared directly into Jonathan Cray's eyes and began to slightly breathe heavily. His exhalations came out as audible releases of breath. He wanted to show the remaining people in the room that he was a source of threat. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw both Zafer and Zafina shift.
"What are you doing?" said Zafer, a hint of concern creeping into his voice, his thumb cocking the hammer of the revolver. The click from the weapon was loud enough to even cause the senior Cray to frown.
"Stop looking at him," said Zafina, who was now slowly rising to her feet. She brought the knife out in front of her, poised to strike like a scorpion about to sting its prey.
Maitho acted like he did not hear the Cray children. His eyes looked like they could bore a hole into the old man. He held back from blinking his eyes, which gave the effect of a cornered animal about to lash out.
"She said to stop looking at him you figlio di puttana!" Zafer should the last three words with vehemence, getting to his feet and pointing the revolver directly at Maitho's head.
Before anyone could react, Zafina brought her fists to Maitho's face, sending the young man tumbling backwards into the corridor. Maitho blessed his luck for Zafina's reaction and pretended to fall to the floor.
"Well, at least we now know how Mr. Oruba uses his powers," said the old man. "Tie him up."
Maitho closed his eyes and...
...found himself inside Jonathan Cray's body. For once, he was thankful that the old man wasn't strong. Without waiting for any cue, he pushed the old man's body out of the chair and let him fall to the floor. While Jonathan Cray was still falling, Maitho ejected himself from the fragile body...
...and returned to his own. He heard a loud thud, followed by a gasp of pain.
"Father!"
Without waiting to see if his plan worked, Maitho pushed himself to his feet and sprinted towards the entrance of the residence. He almost tripped as he ran down the stairs, but managed to balance himself. When he reached the lobby of the house, he headed directly for the main door that was still left open from his entrance into the residence. He leaped over the prone body of the butler and shot out into the night. Quickly vaulting over the fence, Maitho began to run as fast as his legs could carry.
He failed to notice a hooded figure perched on the edge of the Cray residence's roof. The figured followed Maitho's moments until he got into his car and drove away into the night.
Back in the Cray residence, Jonathan Cray was slowly been hoisted on to the chair by his adopted children. When he was comfortably seated, Zafer and Zafina waited patiently as he collected his breath. When it seemed like he was able to bring his breathing to a normal pace, he looked at each of his children.
"What do you think father?" said Zafina. "Did we spook him enough?"
Jonathan smiled, a predatory glean entering his eyes that sent a chill through his children.
"Oh yes. We have him now."
ns 15.158.61.5da2
