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"Mr. Bailey has requested your presence in his office." The man said calmly.
Mr. Harrison slowly turned to where his guards were in the SUV. Only, he found that they all were surrounded by six armed men as well. All of which outgunned, and outnumbered the two suited guards.
"Y-Yes!" Mr. Harrison squeaked. "B-But could you not kill them...?"
"We had no intention to do so. As long as they behave, that is." The man said.
With that, he was lead - along with his guards - up the walkway. Any thought of escaping was smothered in its crib. The closer he got, the more of Owner Baliey's guards could be picked out among the garden. Most of their eyes and guns trained on them. Nothing unsettled him more than what he saw next.
Bodies and blood. Lots of blood. The insignias of his three colleagues on their suits. They were their personal guards. Nearly twenty bodies were neatly lined up, off to the side and out of the way. Despite the amount of blood on the floor, the landing was pristine. There wasn't a single pockmark from a bullet anywhere. The sheer brutal precision scared Mr. Harrison as he skirted the scared puddles of blood.
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"You're men are going to wait out here." One of the masked men by the door said.
Mr. Harrison stiffened at the words, but the guard was quick to soothe his fears.
"Mr. Bailey has ordered you and your men safe," He said. "The others did not have that protection."
Even with that, Mr. Harrison felt he was walking on thin ice now. Leaving his protection at the front door, he was lead through the neglected home. He could see that beauty it once held, many years ago, through all the dust. As he looked up, he nearly tripped over a thick cable. He was caught mid-fall by the guard.
"Watch your step, sir." The guard warned. "Plenty of trip hazards."
"Right, right!" Mr. Harrison nodded vigorously as he regained his balance.
He no longer paid attention to his surroundings, but to his feet instead. Having to step over, or around snaking cables, he began to feel the home was more of a tech jungle. Maybe it was just his mind trying to bury the bodies in his memory. It took him a few minutes to make his way down the long corridor, and through the living room to the office. That was when he came face to face with his pale-faced colleagues, as they seat in three of the four seats in front of a desk.
"h.e.l.lo, Harrison." A dreadful voice sounded out. "Take a seat."
"G-Good evening, Owner Bailey!" Mr. Harrison squeaked as his body quickly gravitated to the empty seat closest to him. His eyes settled on the old man across from them. The man's eyes had a sharpness that could flay them if it wanted too, and he felt it.
"Good evening." Edward nodded. "Now that we're all here. Let's get into the thick of it. Starting with why you are all here."
The board looked at each other with a mix of fear and uncertainty. On a normal day, no doubt they'd stomp right up to him and demand answers. Now, after having lost their protection, they meekly kept their egos to themselves.
"O," Edward gestured with his left hand to a dark corner of the office. "I forgot to introduce you to a very important guest."
As he said that, one of the guards went forward and pulled a man from the corner. His head was covered in a black cloth, and he wore an orange jumpsuit. He was hauled over front and center, then thrown on the floor at the board members' feet. The man pained groans were soft, almost like he had no energy to voice them at all. The armed guard then pulled the hood off and revealed a withered elderly man.
"Met my brother," Edward had a smile ear to ear. "I spent quite a lot of effort to... Liberate him from his prison cell. He's been my guest here for a couple of days. Say hi, John."
"H... Help... Me..." He pleaded. His face was cut and bruised, and he appeared skeletal.
"Mind his manners," Edward said. "He's been in prison for eight and a half years. He was the one who ran my wife and daughter over. So I felt it was only right that'd I include him in tonight's festivities."
"And that would be?" One of the board members asked. He was tanned and slightly chubby. He was the youngest and most brazen of the four members at the age of thirty-seven. While he clenched the arms of his leather chair, there was anger in his eyes. Edward only turned his gleeful eyes to the young man.
"A Bailey always remembers its debts," Edward laughed.
"Debts?" The young man asked.
To the question, Edward offered a response in the form of a hand gesture. At the sight of it, the guard walked over to the desk. It was then that Mr. Harrison noticed there were files on the desk. Thick ones. These were handed out to each of them, though, John Bailey's folder was just dropped by his face.
"Sorry, Dear brother," Edward said as he pulled the last remaining file towards himself. "Just use your mouth. It's not like it has any other use."