Martin remained at the door, keeping a hand on the golden handle. He watched the Director type away on his laptop, not at all seeming to be in a rush. His awe of the room never sank, but the joy associated with it did. He took a shaky breath and kept his gaze on the Director, who he hadn’t seen in person in a long time. What he noticed about the man was something he’d never had an opportunity to appreciate.
Even in the
rather short, several week period where he’d gone without seeing the Director,
Martin could see how worn the man was becoming as time passed. Creases to
signify his age appeared on his face more prominent than before, and his once
slick black hair was beginning to grey.
Martin waited there for several minutes in the doorway, but the Director
didn’t look away from the laptop sitting in front of him.
“Sir?”
Martin asked, reminding his superior of his presence. The man looked up to see
him and acknowledge his existence, but then looked back down like he didn’t
care. Martin wasn’t sure whether his dismissive attitude was good. It could
mean that the Director gave up on him and didn’t care to show him respect, or
that the man didn’t really think anything was out of the ordinary. Martin hoped
for the latter.
“Come
closer. We need to discuss something extremely important,” he said, what felt
like hours later, to Martin. The man then pushed his laptop to the side of his
desk and folded his hands, finally offering Martin his full and undivided
attention.
Martin
stepped away from the door and walked further into the office, allowing it to
shut behind him. The silence between them was interrupted by the brief boom of
the closing door.
“It’s been
some time since I last had you in my office,” he chuckled. There was a hesitant
pause, like the man weren’t sure where to go from there. Somehow, this eased
Martin a little, but it was enough. “Ever since you showed promise as an agent,
years back when you were a rookie, I always thought this office would be yours
someday. It’s always been impossible to deny your talent., I’m surprised you
haven’t taken it from me yet,” he said, unable to stop himself from chuckling.
Martin
remained on the other side of the chair sitting in front of the Director’s
desk, positive that the man could read the confusion on his face. “Sir… I’m not
sure I understand...”
“You’ve
always been an excellent agent, Martin, but you’ve… I guess the simplest way of
saying this is, you’ve fallen off track. I’m telling you that you could have
had my job months ago,” he smirked, his next words to rub it in. “But you
messed it up.”
Martin’s
heart sank, a fiery spark of rage growing inside him. Was the Director really
taunting him? For a moment he saw red and he clenched his fists, struggling to
take a deep breath. He realized then, at the peak of his anger, that anger was
exactly what the Director was looking for. The red-hot anger inside him sizzled
away, and he managed to take that breath. He was being tested. But for what?
“I know I
haven’t been at my best as of late, Director, and there’s no excusing that. I
tried to get time off in order to let me sort through everything that’s been
happening without being a hindrance to the force, but they have repeatedly
rejected me,” Martin said, keeping his voice level.
“Yes…” the
Director pondered.
“I rejected
every single one of your requests for leave of absence myself.” The Director
said.
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