04-28-2014, 05:10 PM
Saturday, April 26, 2014 – 8:00PM EST – Enigma’s Base of Operations – New York City
To say that Nicholas Ian Gerhart was the best money could buy would be an understatement of the highest order. The guy was good. No, scratch that. He was great. To use a wrestling analogy since that is after all my audience, Nicholas Ian Gerhart or NIG as he is called is the Hulk Hogan of his field. Not the current old saggy titted Hogan you all see now but the Hogan of his heyday. The say your prayers and take your vitamins version. Not the guy who suffers from incontinence.
The returns from NIG have been amazing. Either he has a super power that allows him to duplicate himself or he is the most efficient person alive. Either way, after what he has given me in two days I feel like I am not nearly paying him enough. Of course that is not something I would ever tell him.
NIG’s first assignment was to gather intel on a scumbag named Rich Rosenberg. Not just any scumbag, this guy is a demented mother fucker, and I mean that literally. This guy goes around sexually assaulting old ladies. And I don’t mean 50-60’s, I’m talking retirement and assisted living old broads. I am talking 80’s and older. The police have been of no help in solving this case at all. This has been going on for over 5 years and it was just recently that New York’s finest even figured out his name. NIG was able to provide more for me in two days than what the NYPD had dug up in 5 years. Like I said…efficient.
One of the little bits of information NIG was able to provide me was where this person likes to lay his head at night, a dilapidated apartment about 20 blocks from here. Of course the apartment is leased in a fake name, paid for with the money he steals from these women after he rapes them. That is right, raping them was not enough he is also a thief. Truth be told, I am going to enjoy putting this thing down. And that’s what he is. He is not a person; a person could not do what this thing does. I refuse to even acknowledge him as anything other than vile filth. To use another wrestling analogy, he is Frodo but a bit taller.
As the sun sets on the city I make my way out of my base and towards Rich’s apartment. I thought about taking my vehicle and while that would certainly afford me the ability to get away sooner I do not anticipate that speed will be a factor but more so the ability to go about unnoticed. With my hood up and my head down I should be able to accomplish that. By my estimation it should take me no more than 20 minutes of walking at a brisk pace to get to my destination. Another 5 minutes, maybe 10 at most to take care of business and another 20 minutes back. I should be back within the hour. Matthew is at the compound remotely watching the NYPD camera feed. He knows my destination as well as the route I am going to be taking and he will make sure that I do not appear on any of the camera feeds.
Throughout the course of my training at The Compound Sebastian and I debated repeatedly on the virtues of which weapons one should use in the field. Sebastian is very much an old school guy, preferring the subtlety and to some degree romanticism of a blade. Me? I prefer the finality of a gun. Why get in close quarters with someone when you can end them from 20, 30, even 100 feet away? Perhaps if I were better with a blade my opinion might be different, but I am not, so it is not. As a result Sebastian and I have gone back and forth and back and forth about the virtues of one over the other.
He stands by his views, I stand by mine. That being said, given the nature of where I am going and how crowded that area can be, even at this time of day silence will serve me better than speed. So it is with that in mind that I have decided to bring with me a blade. But not just any blade, one that was given to me by Sebastian, one that has been in the family for generations and one that is rather accustomed to what will come next.
As expected the trip to Richard’s dwelling took approximately 20 minutes, 18 to be exact. A few minutes of lock picking and casually looking about to see if I had caught the attention of any onlookers, I did not by the way and I was inside Richard’s apartment. From what NIG tells me, Richard works at a meat packing plant until 7:00pm and taking public transit he gets home no earlier than 8:30, which gives me approximately 10 minutes to get settled and wait for Richard to enter his apartment for the final time.
The first thing I notice about the apartment is the smell, to say it smelled like a men’s locker room would be a gross understatement. In fact, this smelled like every men’s locker room ever. While it is now dark out the lack of windows, thus allowing for natural light during the day certainly plays a role in the smell permeating the apartment that truth be told is about the size of my quarters at The Compound. The next thing I noticed is how completely filthy the apartment is. And I do not just mean some random clothes thrown about, I mean actual trash. Chinese takeout, pizza boxes, dirty dishes, all of it sprawled about the apartment as if it naturally belongs there.
Now that I have been sufficiently disgusted at the filth that this man lives in I need to find somewhere in the apartment that I can conceal myself long enough to get the drop on Richard. Looking about it becomes immediately clear that my options are extremely limited; in fact as I see it, there are only two viable options. In the dark corner across the room, which may or may not be illuminated by the light above the outside of the front door when it’s opened? Or to the right of the door, which, as it is opening should conceal me so long as I move in on Richard immediately after he enters the apartment.
From behind me I can hear the clingy sound of keys being rustled, and then the unmistakable sound of the locking mechanism being activated. Well based on the little time I have to move and my relative place in the room it appears the decision of where I am to go next has been made for me. Behind the door it is.
The lock turns...
Followed by the door knob…
And lastly the door, opening slowly, concealing my identity just like I had hoped it would.
Before Richard even realizes he isn’t alone in his apartment push Richard down using both hands and then kick the door shut. Richard falls down to the floor and rolls over, his eyes widen as he sees my mask staring back at him.
RICHARD “Who are you?”
“What the fuck are you doing in my home?”
ENIGMA: “My name is inconsequential.”
“Why I am here however is of the utmost importance.”
“You’ve been a very bad boy Richard, a very, very bad boy.”
RICHARD “I have no idea what you are talking about.”
“I want you out of my home now or I am calling the police.”
ENIGMA: “Let me ask you something Richard, do you think that I would have broken into your apartment and waited for you to come home if I planned on turning my tail and running away because you told me to?”
“And as for calling the cops, well, given your history I very much doubt the validity of that threat.”
RICHARD “What do you want?”
ENIGMA: “Justice.”
RICHARD “Justice…for what?”
ENIGMA: “Do you really want your last moments to be filled with lies and denial?”
“Now is your chance to come clean.”
“It won’t make a difference mind you, tonight is the night you die.”
“But at least go out with a clean conscience.”
I can see Richard starting to get flustered as reality is starting to set in. For a guy who has done the things he has done he is not even remotely fear inducing. Of course I that would explain why he picks the victims he does, old women who are unable to defend themselves.
ENIGMA: “Well what will it be Richard?”
“Clean conscience or will you go out as the defiant scumbag that you are?”
RICHARD “I don’t know what you are talking about, but I want you to leave.”
ENIGMA: “Very well.”
With Richard still laying about the floor, slightly propped up by his elbows I reached into my pocket, pulled out the knife Sebastian gave me and lunged, a sudden jerking motion by Richard but it was too late. As I looked into Richard’s eyes I could see the life force draining from them and it was in that moment, perhaps for the first time in his life I could see that Richard felt remorse.
Fade to darkness.
To say that Nicholas Ian Gerhart was the best money could buy would be an understatement of the highest order. The guy was good. No, scratch that. He was great. To use a wrestling analogy since that is after all my audience, Nicholas Ian Gerhart or NIG as he is called is the Hulk Hogan of his field. Not the current old saggy titted Hogan you all see now but the Hogan of his heyday. The say your prayers and take your vitamins version. Not the guy who suffers from incontinence.
The returns from NIG have been amazing. Either he has a super power that allows him to duplicate himself or he is the most efficient person alive. Either way, after what he has given me in two days I feel like I am not nearly paying him enough. Of course that is not something I would ever tell him.
NIG’s first assignment was to gather intel on a scumbag named Rich Rosenberg. Not just any scumbag, this guy is a demented mother fucker, and I mean that literally. This guy goes around sexually assaulting old ladies. And I don’t mean 50-60’s, I’m talking retirement and assisted living old broads. I am talking 80’s and older. The police have been of no help in solving this case at all. This has been going on for over 5 years and it was just recently that New York’s finest even figured out his name. NIG was able to provide more for me in two days than what the NYPD had dug up in 5 years. Like I said…efficient.
One of the little bits of information NIG was able to provide me was where this person likes to lay his head at night, a dilapidated apartment about 20 blocks from here. Of course the apartment is leased in a fake name, paid for with the money he steals from these women after he rapes them. That is right, raping them was not enough he is also a thief. Truth be told, I am going to enjoy putting this thing down. And that’s what he is. He is not a person; a person could not do what this thing does. I refuse to even acknowledge him as anything other than vile filth. To use another wrestling analogy, he is Frodo but a bit taller.
As the sun sets on the city I make my way out of my base and towards Rich’s apartment. I thought about taking my vehicle and while that would certainly afford me the ability to get away sooner I do not anticipate that speed will be a factor but more so the ability to go about unnoticed. With my hood up and my head down I should be able to accomplish that. By my estimation it should take me no more than 20 minutes of walking at a brisk pace to get to my destination. Another 5 minutes, maybe 10 at most to take care of business and another 20 minutes back. I should be back within the hour. Matthew is at the compound remotely watching the NYPD camera feed. He knows my destination as well as the route I am going to be taking and he will make sure that I do not appear on any of the camera feeds.
Throughout the course of my training at The Compound Sebastian and I debated repeatedly on the virtues of which weapons one should use in the field. Sebastian is very much an old school guy, preferring the subtlety and to some degree romanticism of a blade. Me? I prefer the finality of a gun. Why get in close quarters with someone when you can end them from 20, 30, even 100 feet away? Perhaps if I were better with a blade my opinion might be different, but I am not, so it is not. As a result Sebastian and I have gone back and forth and back and forth about the virtues of one over the other.
He stands by his views, I stand by mine. That being said, given the nature of where I am going and how crowded that area can be, even at this time of day silence will serve me better than speed. So it is with that in mind that I have decided to bring with me a blade. But not just any blade, one that was given to me by Sebastian, one that has been in the family for generations and one that is rather accustomed to what will come next.
As expected the trip to Richard’s dwelling took approximately 20 minutes, 18 to be exact. A few minutes of lock picking and casually looking about to see if I had caught the attention of any onlookers, I did not by the way and I was inside Richard’s apartment. From what NIG tells me, Richard works at a meat packing plant until 7:00pm and taking public transit he gets home no earlier than 8:30, which gives me approximately 10 minutes to get settled and wait for Richard to enter his apartment for the final time.
The first thing I notice about the apartment is the smell, to say it smelled like a men’s locker room would be a gross understatement. In fact, this smelled like every men’s locker room ever. While it is now dark out the lack of windows, thus allowing for natural light during the day certainly plays a role in the smell permeating the apartment that truth be told is about the size of my quarters at The Compound. The next thing I noticed is how completely filthy the apartment is. And I do not just mean some random clothes thrown about, I mean actual trash. Chinese takeout, pizza boxes, dirty dishes, all of it sprawled about the apartment as if it naturally belongs there.
Now that I have been sufficiently disgusted at the filth that this man lives in I need to find somewhere in the apartment that I can conceal myself long enough to get the drop on Richard. Looking about it becomes immediately clear that my options are extremely limited; in fact as I see it, there are only two viable options. In the dark corner across the room, which may or may not be illuminated by the light above the outside of the front door when it’s opened? Or to the right of the door, which, as it is opening should conceal me so long as I move in on Richard immediately after he enters the apartment.
From behind me I can hear the clingy sound of keys being rustled, and then the unmistakable sound of the locking mechanism being activated. Well based on the little time I have to move and my relative place in the room it appears the decision of where I am to go next has been made for me. Behind the door it is.
The lock turns...
Followed by the door knob…
And lastly the door, opening slowly, concealing my identity just like I had hoped it would.
Before Richard even realizes he isn’t alone in his apartment push Richard down using both hands and then kick the door shut. Richard falls down to the floor and rolls over, his eyes widen as he sees my mask staring back at him.
RICHARD “Who are you?”
“What the fuck are you doing in my home?”
ENIGMA: “My name is inconsequential.”
“Why I am here however is of the utmost importance.”
“You’ve been a very bad boy Richard, a very, very bad boy.”
RICHARD “I have no idea what you are talking about.”
“I want you out of my home now or I am calling the police.”
ENIGMA: “Let me ask you something Richard, do you think that I would have broken into your apartment and waited for you to come home if I planned on turning my tail and running away because you told me to?”
“And as for calling the cops, well, given your history I very much doubt the validity of that threat.”
RICHARD “What do you want?”
ENIGMA: “Justice.”
RICHARD “Justice…for what?”
ENIGMA: “Do you really want your last moments to be filled with lies and denial?”
“Now is your chance to come clean.”
“It won’t make a difference mind you, tonight is the night you die.”
“But at least go out with a clean conscience.”
I can see Richard starting to get flustered as reality is starting to set in. For a guy who has done the things he has done he is not even remotely fear inducing. Of course I that would explain why he picks the victims he does, old women who are unable to defend themselves.
ENIGMA: “Well what will it be Richard?”
“Clean conscience or will you go out as the defiant scumbag that you are?”
RICHARD “I don’t know what you are talking about, but I want you to leave.”
ENIGMA: “Very well.”
With Richard still laying about the floor, slightly propped up by his elbows I reached into my pocket, pulled out the knife Sebastian gave me and lunged, a sudden jerking motion by Richard but it was too late. As I looked into Richard’s eyes I could see the life force draining from them and it was in that moment, perhaps for the first time in his life I could see that Richard felt remorse.
Fade to darkness.