Loose canon [p]

[JACQUES MOREAUX]

I hear voices inside, fuck the lord. It's with the devil I confide.

A small coffee shop on the east side of town. Midday. The sun arched high over head, glazing the earth with roasting temperature. It had a mom and pop's feel to it, tucked down the side of an alley and hidden from the tourists that crowded market streets. Four or five outside tables. Each ornamented with a linen cloth and a fresh set of silverware. It was one of those classy shops, that only the rich or the elder spent time at, but Jacques found comfort in it. It was like a home away from home. An escape from the noise.

Perched at the furthermost table, he sat back, black military boots resting on the wooden pulpit. They were excessively cleaned, as though he had spent more time shining his boots than he had catching criminals. How typical of the lazy rear admiral. The young gun was good, don't get it wrong, but he only went for people who mattered. The ones with a hefty price on their head, it was the only way to rise in the ranks. Sure you could bring in a thousand low lives, but your superiors would make nothing of it, other than the fact that you enjoyed wasting their time.

A petite women no taller than five feet walked cautiously from the shop, carrying a tray on her steadied hand. Lowering herself next to the table, she placed a cup of coffee delicately before the rear admiral. Ruby gems glanced up at her, then back to his coffee. "Cream and sugar, sir?" she asked in a shaky voice. Arms crossed over his abdomen, he nodded, lips sealed. That is until she placed the condiments on the table and he began to mix his beverage. Sipping it slowly, he smiled at her contently and she rushed back into the shop. He could help but let a brief chuckle escape him, it was silly how nervous a woman could get around him.

He was handsome, nonetheless they seemed to express fear rather than embarrassment. Maybe it was the strange hue to his eyes, or the fierce furrow to his brow. Or did his apathy give off a harsh air? It was difficult to say. Only several minutes had passed since the time of their meeting. Where the hell were his comrade, and why hadn't they shown. Oh well, meant more relaxation for Jacques, who rewarded himself quickly with the shutting of his eyes.