8. It's the Principle of the Matter

June 2020 BCE
Blackstone, VA

Half of his face buried in liquid, Paul struggled furiously against his restraints. As water filled his throat, the instinctual drive to survive kicked in, lending extra strength to his struggle for freedom. This boost in power made no difference to the straps which mocked his captivity, barely flexing and refusing to break. He tried to regain a sense of calm, but this fight against instinct was too much.  Wisps of red began to swirl about his hands and wrists as the bonds he sought to tear, instead tore into him.

Paul felt the surface he was strapped to begin to rise. Tired as he was, a new energy overcame him as he focused his energy on expelling this unwelcome guest residing in his lungs.  Returned to his rationale, Paul began to notice his aches and pains, the throbbing torment of breath, being the most notable.

A gaunt face with short black and white hair came into his view. A rather nasal sounding voice pierced the splashing of disturbed waters.
"Mr. Smith, perhaps now you are feeling more a little less obstinate? We merely want the information you've gathered on your client, Oscar Chavez."
The man who had introduced himself as Agent Fuentes stared at Paul with a demanding expression.
Was this really what they were after? Paul wondered at such an insignificant character in his repertoire of clients.  Oscar had money to be sure, but had little else to boast of when it came to influence and power. His waste disposal company was a front for some more devious dealings, but nothing which would have garnered attention of the state police, much less the feds.  Paul didn't think he would have remembered his name at all except that his company name, "Doo Me a Solid Waste Disposal", had been so ridiculous he couldn't forget it.  Regardless, nothing had been suspicious in his requests and his background checked out with no flags at all.

Paul had promised though.  He kept all his client information completely secret.

"Go to Hell.", Paul coughed.

"This will not get tiring for me, Mr. Smith.  I hope for your sake that you see reason soon."
Agent Fuentes pressed a switch at his side and Paul began to lean back toward the water. The sound of moaning hydraulics faded as water filled his ears. This had to be bigger than Oscar Chavez, but Paul was at a loss for how or why.  Once again he struggled in vain at his unyielding prison.  How long could he keep this up? As darkness closed in on his vision, Paul knew the answer to his question. Long enough for his enemies to run out of patience. Long enough.

7. More Questions Than Answers

The White Rock Cafe
Dallas, TX USA

Heat permeated the air as the Texas sun blazed indiscriminately upon anything unlucky enough to be within it's reach. Josh wiped the sweat from his brow before opening the door of the coffee shop. He was greeted by a pleasant chill, the sweet aroma of roasted coffee, and a rather unpleasant blast of mediocre music.
"Of course it's live music night," Josh thought rather sullenly, though this would mean their conversation was unlikely to be overheard.  The door swung open behind him and Brent joined the line.
"There's my friend! How's life treating you, Richie Rich?" Josh jabbed jovially.
"Incredibly rough, I'm having to sell my least favorite summer home so that i can finish gold plating the bathroom tile in my other two." Brent said with a rather wry smile.

"Truly yours is a life filled with hardships," Josh laughed.  

Brent and Josh made their way up the stairs with their drinks in hand and found a semi private table near the far side of the balcony railing.  A wave of nostalgia swept over Josh, bringing to memory the joyful occasions all three of them had shared in this shop.

"It's hard to believe we haven't been here in four years," exclaimed Josh.

"It does seem that time has passed unusually fast, but hardly surprising given how busy things have been."

Josh pulled out his phone and passed it to Brent.  

"This is the email I received from Paul.  Of course, the last time we saw him was about 4 years ago at the incident in Manitoba.  To say that I was surprised would be quite the understatement."

Brent perused the email carefully, eyes flitting back and forth attempting to soak up every last detail.  "Did you find out anything about the coordinates he sent you?" Brent asked without bothering to look up.

"Seems to be a location in Iran. Nothing but desert as far as I can tell.  I couldn't find any notable news from the area.  Perhaps you'll be able to uncover what happened?"

Brent returned Josh's phone to him and sat in contemplation, seemingly oblivious to the cacophony of terribly blended notes and ill written lyrics that abused the walls and patrons alike.   Brent reached into his pocket and pulled out his checkbook. His pen inked out a hefty sum and he handed the completed document to Josh.  

"Okay?.."  Josh questioned with a good bit of confusion.

"You needed the money for a need at the orphanage.  You called me down here to appeal to my emotion and I gave you what you needed.  Paul was not mentioned and you did not share the email with me."

Josh began to understand where this was going.  "Okay, can I help in any other way?"

"Yes," Brent continued, "continue this search wholeheartedly, but don't contact me about it.  Paul said it would take nine months to crack that email, but with the recent advancements that have been made in cyber tech, it wouldn't surprise me if it was compromised in three weeks."

Josh felt the tension begin to rise within his chest.  There was so much he hadn't anticipated, he felt embarrassed by his lack of foresight.  

"I'll continue my search then, Brent.  Good luck on whatever plan you're hatching."

Brent stood up from the table, his eyes reflecting a sad determination to see this matter put to rest. "The same to you, Josh. Try not to screw things up, you miserable failure."

Josh abruptly laughed, taken off guard by Brent's insult.  "I couldn't do any worse than you would." He retorted with a mischievous grin.  

The two said their good byes and parted ways, the air becoming increasingly humid as they went.  It had been a few weeks since it last rained, Josh mused; They were well overdue for a storm.