A thin line.
James Weatherby was considering his options, unfortunately he did not have many in his precarious position, that being district attorney for Nachton proper. For several years he had brokered many a hit against the city's political upper crust, distributing these hits to Tacharan, the rogue clan in the city, led by Ellis Duban. With her subsequent death, point of contact went to the new leader Simon Huntington - but then Ellis had a way of not doing what other people wanted, which meant she had no intention of dying anytime soon. This left him in a bit of a pickle.
It was either tell Simon that Ellis was in fact not dead and suffer the consequences or keep the secret and suffer the same consequences, just at a later date. James considered these options with his right hand on the lock box that contained his registered .22 pistol. Just enough power to scramble his brains, but not leave a huge mess for the cleaning staff. Thoughtful, though it was - it would not be necessary. Why? Because his choice was about to be made for him.
His office door flew open, shattering the frosted glass as it slammed against the wall after having been kicked in by someone. That someone was Simon Huntington.
The DA looked small and frightened, sweat glistening on his bald head and it took everything not to kill him on the spot. Instead Simon leaned foward over the desk and spoke softly and quietly.
'When.'
'The end of March.' Weatherby could not volunteer the information quick enough and he stuttered spewing it forth.
'Andrea Worthing?'
'She took it - I told her you had it.'
She had been there that night. Simon backed away from Weatherby, his face annoyed but suddenly thoughtful. Ellis had been there that night in...May? So if she had been there, then that was her that night. It was her that was watching he and Carol. It was her and she was real.
Simon felt his stomach suddenly seize into knots and he fought the bile that was creeping up into his mouth. 'Oh god', he thought. Ellis was alive...all this time. Who else knew? She certainly would be requipping herself and finding a new place somewhere in the city because Simon knew with great certainty that she would never leave Nachton now. Not until everything that had belong to her was dead or dying - Simon, the clan...even Carol.
'Where is she?'
'I don't know Simon, I swear, I don't.'
'You're giving her jobs, what is she working on.'
'She's not, not from me. Some...Yakuza in town. Like the one with her. I just provided information for her on this one, tricks in the State Department. I don't know who he is, I swear I don't.'
'What do you mean...the one with her?' Simon kept the rage at bay but wasn't slowly losing control. His fists had balled up and his nails were digging into his skin with each word out of the DA's mouth.
'Some Asian is with her. Someone new, I've never seen him before. She's training him, I think.'
'Human?'
'I don't know. I don't know,' he whimpered.
Simon didn't have to ask to know that he had no way to get a hold of her, Ellis would always contact Weatherby. He looked back at the shriveled man and felt his fangs tingle. The confusion and fear turning quickly back to anger. Simon walked back towards Weatherby and pulled at the corner of the desk, hurling it off the ground and into the side wall, effectively shattering the wood into pieces. Grabbing the DA by the throat he lifted him off the ground and back against the wall.
'You pathetic son of a bitch.' Dangling a good foot from the ground, Weatherby's face slowly turned blue and he spat, gasping for air. Simon put his lips right up against the DA's ear and whispered.
'I should gut you and leave you for dead, Jim. I should...but I won't. You'll live and when Ellis comes looking for you, and you and I both know she will be back, it'll be left up to you to explain just how much you told me about her.' Simon bared his fangs and then slowly let go. Weatherby crumbled to the ground, heaving and coughing as Simon just stood and stared down at him.
Turning to leave, Simon saw the fallen lock box on the table and he walked over to pick it up. Opening it he pulled out the gun and threw it at Weatherby. Now or later, it didn't matter. Weatherby was a dead man.
And with that Simon walked out of the office, listening to sound the sputtering cries behind him.