Jack in the Box (29 page)

             
“C-97,” he said, “give me J-98.”

             
She sunk a little. "Yes, sir."

             
He nodded.

             
She left his sight.

             
The man was old. He did not look frail. He was in good shape, and his hair was a slightly dark gray. His desk had a few items.  A computer. A memo pad. A display case. An empty display case. For a watch.

             
Another man entered. Tired, disoriented. Only one leg. He came in with the woman supporting him. She sat him down in front of the older man.

             
"J-98," the man crossed his arms.

             
"Sir," J-98 lifted his eyes.

             
"They amputated it. . ." He leaned over to look at his leg.

             
"It was all they could do, sir. My bones were shattered. The bullet-"

             
"Do you want to know how I survived that day?"

             
J-98 tilted his head.

             
"When my father and I held each other at gun point." The man folded his hands and stared at them.

             
J-98 shifted his eyes around. Then looked back at the man. "Actually, yes, sir,
I
woul
d
like to know."

             
He leaned back. "When I was a young man, Raze always told me to treat every gun as though it were loaded." He continued to stare at his folded hands. "My father took the gun from underneath my desk. He should have treated it as though i
t
weren'
t
loaded." He looked up. "I had emptied the rounds of that gun before I even put it under the desk."

             
J-98 swallowed. His upper lip rose slightly. "You killed your father. Even when you knew. . ."

             
"He was trying to stop me."

             
"But he wouldn't have been able to. He could've lived."

             
The old man stared at his hands for a few more seconds.

             
J-98 bit his tongue.

             
The room was cold.

             
J-98 cracked his knuckles.

             
The man returned to the issue at hand. “Your test subject.”

             
J-98 took a deep breath. Calmed himself.

             
"Your test subject passed," the man put his finger down on the desk.

             
J-98 nodded.

             
The man's eyebrows slanted down, stretching the wrinkles on his forehead. He shook his head.

             
J-98 did not flinch. He did not show fear. In fact, there was no fear to show.

             
“He passed. . .” the man looked up with pure anger in his eyes. "And he did it," his voice suddenly rose, "without killing."

             
The words echoed, even in such a small room as this one.

             
J-98 smirked. The most powerful man in the world stood in front of him. But he merely smirked. "Well, I suppose he did," his smirk turned to a smile. "I suppose he did."

             
The man breathed in. "Then explain to me. .
.
exactl
y
how that happened!"

             
J-98 scratched his chin.

             
The man gritted his teeth.

             
"I don't know how," he chuckled, "but thank God he did it."

             
The man's eyes opened up wide. His hands formed fists.

             
"Yes," J-98 laughed. "Thank God he did it." He looked up at the ceiling. His entire body relaxed.

             
"Never speak like that again," the man stood up, "Never say tha
t
nam
e
again! I will have you killed. Do you hear me, J-98?"

             
He brought his head back to look at the man. Leaned forward. "Go ahead, 'sir.' I've never lived a day in my life."

             
The man took deep breaths.

             
He looked up at the ceiling once again. As if there were someone there to look up to. "That is, not until today."

             
"Just because this subject saved your skin-"

             
"Not just my skin
,
Jac
k
," J-98 spat. He put his hands on the table. "My heart." His eyes lowered and he nodded slowly.

              "My heart."

Scripture passages quoted from the King James Version of the Bible.

1
I Corinthians 10:23

2
Luke 13:28