Free Raymond Benson - 2012 - Hitman: Damnation by Raymond Benson Page B

confidence. The man wanted 47 to
consider himself part of the team again.
                 The
woman known as Jade seemed to be very competent. She managed the control room
with admirable patience and efficiency. Travis moved in and out of the space,
delivering orders and listening to reports. At one point he acknowledged 47 and
asked how he felt. 47 replied that he was fine, and Travis said that he looked
forward to their meeting later. Otherwise, everyone on the ship ignored the
assassin. He was allowed to stand behind the various workstations and study the
computer monitors, maps, and data coming in from all parts of the globe. The
Agency was busy. It appeared that the business of killing was in no danger of a
recession.
                 Dinner
that evening was served in the yacht’s executive dining room, which was
designed in luxurious Louis XIV décor, as if the place were a high-end French restaurant. Waiters wore formal uniforms with white gloves.
Travis, Jade, and 47 were the only diners.
                 The
food was of exceptional quality. They started with a bottle of Dom Pérignon ’57, which the hitman had to admit was smooth on the palate. Never a heavy drinker, Agent 47 did
appreciate fine wine and champagne. He had expensive tastes, and over the last
year he had not been able to indulge in the kinds of meals to which he was
accustomed. He knew full well it was yet another ploy on Travis’s part to lure
the assassin back to the Agency, so he figured he might as well enjoy it.
                 A
bottle of Château Pétrus , among the priciest and best
wine on the planet, was served with dinner, which was a selection of Kobe beef
filet mignon, lobster thermidor , and a variety of
steamed vegetables. A recently baked challah bread made from an orthodox recipe in Jerusalem was
incongruously served with the meal, but it was a surprisingly fitting addition.
                 Agent
47 declined an after-dinner drink of fino sherry but
heartily accepted the crème brûlée.
                 It
was the best meal he’d had in over twelve months.
                 Travis
unsuccessfully attempted to engage 47 in conversation while the trio ate, but
the assassin didn’t utter much. During the awkward silence, 47 was intent on
gauging what Travis had to say and how he said it. The assassin could never
fully trust him or his attractive assistant, but at least 47 would give them
the benefit of the doubt—for now. The story he’d been told about Diana Burnwood still disturbed him. Could she have really
betrayed him and the Agency? 47 thought he knew his former handler better than
that. He also accepted the fact that any hitman working for the Agency would be disavowed if anything went wrong during a
mission. Could Diana have been compromised in some way? It was possible she
didn’t have a choice in abandoning him.
                 The
only thing 47 could do was to play out the game. If rejoining the Agency would
eventually lead him to Diana—if she was still alive—and to the answers he
sought, then so be it.
                 “I
have decided to accept your offer,” the assassin unexpectedly announced as
Travis lit a cigar.
                 The
man raised his eyebrows. “You have?” Travis exchanged a look with Jade. Then he
smiled. “Well! All right, then. I thought Jade and I would have to ply you with
promises of Italian sports cars, women, and points in the company’s profits!”
                 “I
don’t care about any of that. I live for perfection. It appears that you’re
offering me a fair deal to restore my name to its former glory. I welcome the
challenge.” 47 thought this was a reasonable explanation that a shallow man
like Travis would accept. It had a touch of truth to it, but in reality the
assassin felt he could do nothing else but play along.
                 Travis
offered 47 a cigar, but the