Assassin and Therapist: Part II

The random fiction prompt continues… I can’t imagine what the poor people at the cafe thought I was writing about if they happened to look at my notebook. Oh well! Quite fun. I might have to start looking into writing more “Thriller” genre type things, because this is great. Enjoy!

At this, Martin (Codename: John Smith) leaped out of his chair in horror. Looking askance at Ryan, he paced a moment muttering to himself before leaning up closely to the rather bemused man.

“Your wife can’t have even the slightest idea of what we discuss, that we meet… even that I exist”

“Quite so” Ryan agreed, nodding to appease the obvious nutter in the room, “I would never betray doctor-patient confidence, and to be fair – my wife doesn’t really have the best grasp of these things. But please, let’s have you continue with your stories, if they are therapeutic to tell”

Martin leaned back in his chair, letting a relaxed moment overtake him,

“I shall, in fact, continue then. Number 5. Ah. Where to begin? I was only a young worker than as well. Still successful, I hope you note, but unfortunately prone to making rookie errors, could you think o one for example?”

“Um..” the therapist was at a loss. He had, in fact, given this whole lot of thought before undertaking his patient, “Poor Surveillance Tactics” he answered weakly,

“Such as?” The professional said in a voice smooth as silk, though Ryan was sure silk would have a few things to say about being compared to an assassin.

“Perhaps” Ryan heard himself choke, “Not allowing for changes in your target’s schedule?”

Martin’s face showed his surprise and in that second, the therapist was sure he looked more like a fish than a PhD. candidate.

“Precisely” Martin broke the silence, “Not an enemy agent, or are you?” he suddenly looked shifty, but Ryan laughed it off with ease by simply holding up his arms,

“With these muscles, I hardly think so”

The assassin relaxed a moment, before opening his mouth to continue. But a short beep cut him off. Flashing a quite apologetic look at the therapist, he murmured something about ‘having to take it’ before taking out what must have been a 1900’s pager.

A moment of silence passed as he read the message and Ryan watched in curiosity. But a second later, Martin put the pager back within his pocket and stood without warning.

“I’m terribly sorry Ryan” he said, all business, ‘But something has come up, I’m going to have to leave early today and may be 2 hours late for our appointment next week. My office secretary will call you”

Heart pounding, Ryan looked at the suddenly quite frightening man standing in his office gathering his things,

“Please do send a message if you’ll be late” he let tumble out of his mouth, “I have another patient in an hour and I’ll have to reschedule her”

“Of course” the man answered amiably, almost out the door before stopping and turning to the ruffled therapist,

“I did mean what I said about your wife” he said calmly with the hint of a very really threat, “We may be on equal footing in this room, but you cannot let slip what we discuss here, it would be unfortunate for everyone involved. You do know my job description after all, most people can’t say the same.”

He was gone a moment later, and Ryan was left in the empty room staring at the half empty coffee cup with only one thought running through his mind.

Shit.

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