“Get control of yourself.” Nick responded grasping Brendan on the shoulder as he spoke. The two of them stood alone waiting for the elevator to take them to Mr. Sheldon’s office. “He doesn’t know anything. Just keep your cover, and it will stay that way. If we don’t show up he will definitely know something’s going on, and then he will kill us.”

Nick stepped into the elevator reluctantly followed by Brendan. “I don’t know about this. If he does get suspicious…”

“He won’t.” Nick interjected.

Brendan pressed the emergency stop before he turned to face Nick directly. “If he does,” Brendan paused looking down sadly, “if he does, I don’t want you to hesitate.”

“Relax. He doesn’t know anything, so we won’t have to worry about that now.” Nick pressed the emergency stop beginning the elevator’s ascent once more.  Seconds later it stopped on its own accord allowing the doors to open slowly revealing a desk behind which sat a beautiful young girl. She informed them that Mr. Sheldon had been waiting for them. She instructed them to walk through a pair of oak brown doors to their right.

As they stepped through the doors they saw  an older man standing with well-built arms clasped behind his back. Piercing brown eyes stared at them behind small glasses. Flanking Mr. Sheldon on either side were men without expression. Nick recognized them as two of the many men in Sheldon’s employ, who were paid to kill along with other tasks.

“Good. You are here.” Mr. Sheldon began. “I was starting to think you weren’t going to make it.” His last words were spoken with a snake like grin.

“We apologize for the delay, sir.” Brendan replied.

Slowly Mr. Sheldon walked around to the front of his desk, soaking in the silence following Brendan’s apology. His arms remained behind his back. “It is forgotten. Have a seat. We have business to attend to.” With Sheldon, there was always business to attend to. “Unfortunately, it has come to my attention, that members of the FBI have grown wise to our actions. You will be pleased to know that most of the information they obtained was useless fiction.”

Nick could feel Brendan’s discomfort. Through the corner of his eyes, he saw Brendan’s hand clench his chair’s armrest, turning his knuckles pale. Mr. Sheldon continued almost as though he hadn’t noticed.

“We are quickly tying off the loose ends. Fortunately, the leak of information to the FBI only reached one agent, who has since been dealt with.” Mr. Sheldon threw the picture onto the desk. The picture showed the face of a man beaten nearly beyond recognition. Nick and Brendan, however, saw clearly the familiar features of Agent Richard Kent, Brendan’s source within the FBI.

Speaking quickly to cover for Brendan, Nick turned to his boss. “How can we be sure that he was the only agent exposed to the leaked information?” His voice was steady—full of confidence he didn’t feel.

“My leaks in the FBI have confirmed that this agent was working alone, gathering information in secret. Still it wouldn’t hurt for us to be cautious.” Using his thumb and index finger he slowly traced his line of facial hair beginning above the lip before coming together at his chin. “This, however, is not why I brought you two here today. There will be plenty of time to clean up the mess within the FBI. No, for right now my primary concern has to do with this agent’s source within our organization. As you may know, I have no tolerance for treachery.”

The vein in Brendan’s head pulsed quickly as Mr. Sheldon spoke. His hand had slipped unnoticed to the gun hidden beneath his coat. Looking around he saw the hands of the others in the room and knew that he would be the first to draw if it came to that.

“My sources in the FBI alerted me to the possibility that an agent named Richard Kent might be someone to watch out for. I had him followed, and I discovered that he did in fact meet with an employee of mine.” He turned to Brendan. “Do you know who that employee was?”

“No Mr. Sheldon. I do not.” He answered quickly.

Mr. Sheldon smiled wolfishly. “Well see neither do I, but I did learn that Richard Kent received a text message requesting the meeting. The text message of course was from a blocked number, but using his phone I’m sure I can call the sender of that message.” He held a phone in his hand as he stared intently at Brendan.

Brendan’s grip tightened on the shaft of his pistol. He drew his 9mm berretta slightly out of its holster. His left hand moved to his cell phone. He opened it just as Mr. Sheldon pressed a button on the phone in his hand. Brendan felt his phone buzz before he could turn off the sound.

He leapt to his feet drawing his gun to eye level, aimed directly at Mr. Sheldon’s forehead. As he expected, he was the first to draw, but he only had seconds. He squeezed the trigger quickly waiting for the deafening explosive noise inside the gun’s barrel, but to his horror the only sound audible was the gentle click of the gun failing to fire. Mr. Sheldon had not even flinched. Brendan looked quickly to Nick sitting on his left, his eyes full of fear. Nick slowly raised himself from his seat. In his left hand, he held a magazine belonging to a 9mm berretta—Brendan’s 9mm berretta.

Nick turned to face Brendan. “Before we got here, I replaced your magazine with an empty one.” He waved the magazine in his hand. Brendan’s phone buzzed once again.

“I thought I could trust you Nick.” Brendan was barely whispering. His eyes revealed his sudden loneliness. He began backing away slowly, completely at a loss. Nick drew his own gun from his holster. He turned the gun over in his hands admiring it before taking aim at Brendan.

“I thought we were friends.” Brendan said, his voice still quiet., barely audible over his cell phone’s vibrations.

“We are.” Nick’s eyes were as cold and unforgiving as Mr. Sheldon’s. “Goodbye my friend.” Nick squeezed the trigger sending a bullet soaring out of his gun. Mr. Sheldon walked over to Brendan’s body lying in a pool of blood on the ground. He squatted down and pulled the cell phone from Brendan’s pocket. It vibrated one last time in his hand.