Blood

"You don't have to do this, Richter. Whatever the Old Man is paying you, I'll triple it."

"He's not paying me, Nolan."

The young man in the chair looked at him in surprise.

"What do you mean, he's not paying you?"

Richter looked down the barrel of the .380 at Nolan, his expression cold.

"You really think he'd ever put out a hit on you?"

"Why not? That's what I'd do if I were him."

Richter stared at him for a long minute.

"He paid me to come here and watch your back, keep an eye on you, report back to him. That's not what I usually do, but the Old Man and I, well, we go back a long way."

He paused for a moment, thinking.

"He never doubted you for a second, you know that? Never questioned your loyalty. Just wanted to know you were safe."

"He's an old fool," Nolan sneered.

Richter took one step forward and backhanded him with enough force to knock him out of the chair before he could so much as flinch. Nolan lay on his back, dazed, the taste of iron on his broken lips. A powerful hand grabbed his collar and wrenched him from the floor as violently as he'd hit it, then sat him down hard in the chair. Richter continued talking as if nothing had happened, his expression unchanged.

"Once I figured out what you were up to, well... I can't let him know about that. It'd break him."

"Wait, he doesn't know?" There was hope in Nolan's voice. "You didn't tell him?"

"No, no I didn't."

"Then why...?"

"Like I said, the Old Man and I go back a long way."

He chambered a round in the .380 and trained it on Nolan's chest.

"Wait!", screamed Nolan, "What are you doing!? I thought you said you weren't here to kill me!"

"No, I said the Old Man wasn't paying me to kill you."

The gun fired twice, and Nolan's eyes went wide with shock. He crumpled to the floor, staring up at the ceiling. He blinked twice. Richter was standing over him, talking again, but the words were coming from another room.

"You and I both know what would've happened if I went to him with what I know. If I didn't, well, I know what you'd have done. I can't let either of those things happen."

Nolan looked at him, his eyes filled with anger and fear, lips struggling to form words that wouldn't come out.

"He'll hate me for this; he'll never rest until I'm brought to him in a body bag..."

The gun fired again, and Richter was talking to himself.

"...but better he believes an old friend betrayed him than know his son did."