The Royal Contract

Chapter 1268: Prevent a possible checkmate

The irony of living a double life had never been an issue to him. But today, he felt its impact.

He watched the woman cry before him, sitting opposite his desk. She had her face down on her palms, but her wail was of someone who lost dearly.

"We will make them pay for what they had done to your son, Mrs. Montgomery." He patted the middle-aged lady in her hands to comfort her.

She was a widow who lived with his only son. But last night, his son was gunned down by some punks who thought they owned the street.

Unfortunately, the criminals were high on drugs. The same illegal substances that his underground organization was supplying on the market.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Carter, for your help." The woman wiped her tears with the handkerchief in her shaking hands before tilting her face to look at him. "They have no right to take the life of my boy." She said with courage and determination despite her grief.

Suddenly, he could not help the pang of guilt that hit his moral compass. He had never felt sorry for the victims of their illegal activities before. Why now?

Was it because he finally had grown a conscience? He now realized that what he was doing was wrong. His actions had consequences on the lives of others.

"It is still a long battle ahead. But I am confident we have enough evidence to put them in jail." Mike assured his new client.

He never thought much of his day job. His legitimate career as a public defendant did not earn him much. He only took this job as a cover-up for his unlawful activities.

It was a way to get inside information and make connections that could help them in their shipments and daily operations.

"I believe that you are a good person. Thank you again for doing this for my son." The mother had tears again in her eyes as she looked at him.

And it somewhat put a knife in his heart and twisted it. He had never felt remorse for his past actions. But now, he could not stop the heart-wrenching pain of watching this woman suffer her loss because of partly what he did.

He might not have shot her son or put the drugs in those young kids' hands, but he was still part of the problem that had caused it.

"I will see you soon." He still had to meet with the defense attorney for a settlement negotiation. But this time, he would ask for the punishment that would fit the crime.

He walked the woman out of his office, glad the meeting was over. It had already been a long day. His meeting with the underworld bosses still left him within the realm of uncertainty.

And in the recent appointment, this woman had left him feeling miserable as she made him realize how he had ruined many people's lives.

"What is wrong with you?" He asked himself, wondering why he was beating himself up.

He was a horrible, despicable man. He was a criminal. There was no dispute about that. He had accepted this life when he joined Gerald's organization.

He could kill a man without remorse. But come to think of it, most of the people he had killed deserved it. The only difference was. They never got the chance to defend themselves.

Nevertheless, he did not doubt their guilt. They were worse criminals than he was. But if he would base his situation using that logic, he could conclude that he also deserved the death penalty.

He had acted as prosecution, judge, and executioner, robbing those criminals of a fair trial. But that was in the past. With Gerald's guidance, he was ready to change.

"I am off for the day." He yelled at her assistant, that was sitting just outside the door of his office. "You should go home too."

He had waited for his last client before calling it a day at the office. But he had other plans. He could not go directly to the safe house and meet with his friend. Someone might be watching his activities.

Therefore, he had to pretend it was just another day at the office. Then, he would go home. From there, he would sneak out and bring the papers to his friend.

He had to be careful because many eyes might be watching his moves. So far, nobody had caught him, not the authorities and their enemies.

"You are late." That was the first sentence that greeted him as he strode into the room when Samson opened the door.

He checked his watch and realized it was a few minutes later than usual. However, he had to make a few stops, just in case someone did manage to follow him. He had to lose them somehow.

"Things are heating up if you have not noticed. I have to be extra cautious before coming here." Mike reasoned as he walked over to the small fridge and took out two bottles of cold beers.

He threw one to his friend and popped the lid on the one left in his hand. Several seconds later, he gulped down a few ounces of the brown alcoholic ale while his friend watched him.

"Was someone following you?" Gerald questioned him as he gripped the bottle in his long fingers, letting its moisture drip on the floor.

He could already see his friend's mind turning, concocting all the possible scenarios inside his head. But his friend had nothing to worry about.

"No. I have it under control." He assured his former boss and his best friend. "Of course, I will never lead them to you."

Fortunately, he did not notice any car tailing behind him. He also had his vehicle swept for tracking devices in one of the parking areas where he had a stopover.

Somebody might have put something underneath the hood or the bumper that could compromise their mission. Mike could not take chances.

"Good." Gerald finally relaxed in his seat and opened the lid of his drink. Then, he observed his friend let the cold beverage travel from his lips to his stomach.

"So, how is Haley?" Mike wanted to talk about something else except work or their mission. He needed time to feel something else besides his guilt.

He moved to a chair closer to his friend and sat comfortably, putting his feet on the coffee table before him for maximum relaxation.

"She seems ok. Her works look fantastic." His friend told him. But he knew his friend had something else on his mind than how her girlfriend was doing great at her job. And he might know what it was.

"The doctor who has seen her said the baby is doing well." Mike knew that his friend would like to hear that.

He failed to talk to Haley earlier, but the doctor had reported to him about her condition. He meant to call and check up on her, but his circumstances prevented him from doing so.

"Did she ask to know about the sex of our child?" Gerald asked, suddenly looking curious at him as he took a swig of his drink.

He knew his friend wanted to respect Haley and her wishes. Therefore, his friend would not ask about the baby unless Haley consented.

But, of course, Haley could not know about this. Therefore the doctor had to sign an agreement not to tell Haley about their participation in her welfare.

"No. Haley still does not wish to know." Mike informed his friend. And Gerald nodded in understanding. He could tell that his friend had no intention of pursuing the conversation.

"So, what happened in there?" Gerald asked him, going directly to the point, abruptly changing the topic. "What do you have for me?" Continue your journey on m-v-l-e-m-p-y-r

He pulled the folded folder from inside his breast pocket and threw it on the surface table, letting it slide until it almost fell on the floor. But, somehow, it stopped just in time.

"See for yourself." Mike did not bother putting his feet on the ground as he maintained his relaxed position. This time, he added his arms, folding them on the elbows before clasping his fingers at the nape of his neck. Then, he leaned his body on the backrest, letting its soft cushion support the heaviness of his tired back.

"Damn!" He heard his friend curse as he closed his eyes to give himself a few minutes to unwind.

He had already seen the entire contents of the file. Therefore, he already knew how damning the information would be to his friend unless they could do something about it.

"I know." He uttered with a tone that should sum up his opinion on the subject matter. "So, what do you think shall we do about it?" He questioned his friend, but he kept his eyes closed as darkness overtook his sight.

"I have no idea." His friend appeared clueless. It was seldom that he ever looked like that. But it was not every day that their enemies had a few moves ahead of them.

"We need to come up with a plan." He knew that their time was running out. He was losing moves left and right. Soon, he would have no pawns to guard them, no knights to protect them.

He might be the bishop standing next to the King and Queen, but could he alone protect the two of them? Would their enemy's next move find their Queen and capture her? What about the King? Could a mere bishop like him prevent a possible checkmate?