When Sandra was done with him, Ian hated himself just a little bit more. He still didn’t know how he knew the woman, but it was clear her powers were too much for him to resist. No matter how hard he tried, he did everything she asked of him. He couldn’t help himself but to comply.
She was gone now and for that he was grateful. She forced him into a blindfold before dumping him at his current location. As he pulled the cloth from his eyes, he couldn’t help but think he was in an everyday ordinary living room.
Though he saw no doors in the enclosed space, it was decked out with a pair of loveseats, a big screen television, an end table and even a few choice pieces of art. He stared at the large ficus tree on the edge of the room and wondered who wanted to see him so badly as to lure him into this place.
Sandra hinted at another, someone Ian felt he should know. He couldn’t stand his broken mind. It could be the only thing that saved either Phoebe or him. But the information refused to unlock from whatever recess it hid in. Maybe it wasn’t there at all anymore.
A portion of the wall to the left of the television suddenly shifted. It folded back, revealing a hidden door into the room. A man stepped through it.
Ian knew he should recognize the new arrival. The lanky man looked to be in his mid-forties. His head was shaved bald and a goatee framed his face. He wore round glasses over his eyes, the kind Steve Jobs used to wear. Dressed in a black sweater and slacks, he could have passed as a close relation to the late Apple founder. But Ian knew this figure was much older than he appeared. Much older than his lookalike. Something told him, his history with this man was long and quite often deadly.
The stranger smiled as he met Ian’s eyes. It wasn’t a friendly grin, but the knowing look of someone that knew he had his foes where he wanted them. It just served to make him look even more devilish.
“I would ask if you remember me, but I guess we both know that isn’t the case, don’t we?”