The old man said nothing. I thought I saw him nod though, almost imperceptibly.
“Good. Next, you’ll cancel all current contracts with Di Spatia. And I mean everything, Colonel. This includes the ones on paper, and the ones off the record.”
The Colonel frowned again, and Markus let out a happy sigh. The lines in his face were all but gone now. He looked like a totally different man.
“I’ll leave the rest to Briggs,” Markus finished. “He’ll tell you what else needs to get done. But this ends our relationship together. If I see or hear from you — or even any of your men — ever again? Well… Let’s just say treason, as you know, is punishable by death.”
Goddard’s expression was grave. He kept fidgeting, like he was trying to do something with his hands. But no matter what position he put them in, it just didn’t seem comfortable.
“Congratulations on your retirement, Colonel,” Jason spoke up again.
“M—My what?”
“You’ll announce that tomorrow,” said Jason. “Six weeks. That’s all you’re getting. Six weeks to wrap up whatever other hideous corruption you’ve got going on. And it better be all cleaned up, Colonel. If I see something, if I hear something…
“If we smell even the slightest hint that you’re still operating after that?” Ryan jumped in. “This file goes straight to every officer’s desk in all the time it would take you to shit yourself.”
Silence. Dead silence.
“Maybe quicker,” Kyle shrugged.
On the other side of the screen, Goddard physically shuddered. He tried to hide it, but I could see it with my own eyes.
“I hate that we’re letting you off,” snarled Jason. “I hate that we’re giving you this one chance to bow out and disappear. If it weren’t for the things you’ve involved Markus in, you’d already be in shackles. But I want you to know something, Goddard. I want you to be very fucking aware of it…”
Jason leaned in. His voice dripped with such deadly venom, Goddard actually shrank back from the screen.
“If you ever, ever show up on anyone’s radar again,” Jason spat, “this little get-out-of-jail-free card is permanently revoked. Hell, maybe we’ll do that anyway, sometime down the road. Just for the hell of it.”
Goddard coughed. “You would’n—”
“Oh yes,” Jason assured him. “We would. For the rest of your life, I want you live in fear of the MP’s knocking down your door.”
“Or maybe worse,” Dakota chimed in. “Maybe I’ll be at your door.”
Jason sneered. “Bradley won’t knock either,” he added coldly. “Will you Bradley?”
“Fuck no,” replied Dakota. “I’m not one for knockin’.”
Another long moment went by. In the end it was six people staring down one little old man. An old man who seemed to be shrinking away from the hateful, withering looks.
“O—Okay.”
It was a single word. A simple word. But it was all that was really needed.
Jason cocked his head. “Okay what?”
“Okay, I understand,” Goddard said mechanically. “Everything you said. Six weeks. The whole thing — all of it.”
Grimly, Jason nodded. He turned to the others, and they nodded as well. Finally his gaze went to Markus.
“Want the honors?”
Markus sneered and leaned forward again. He stared into the camera, hovering one finger over the button that would kill the connection.
“Colonel?”
Goddard had been looking down, into his lap. He raised his head one last time.