He quickly saved the number and address of their main branch on his phone, and without wasting a moment, he headed toward what they called the Blue Area in Phoenix.
Twenty minutes later, he stood in front of a large, modern building. Two armed and uniformed guards stood attention at the gate. People moved in and out in suits. Some were carrying files, some talked animatedly on the phone, and some smoked a cigarette in a corner.
Xavier didn't know this life. He found it hard to relate to. Their lives seemed meaningless to him, too simple to comprehend the turmoil his mind was in.
Shaking his head, he headed toward the entrance and walked through the metal detector when it beeped. The security guard stopped him to check. His hand automatically brushed over his belt where he'd tucked his gun.
The guard felt Xavier from head to toe and froze when his hand touched the bump on his abdomen. His own hand reached for his rifle.
"I know Giselle Beaumont," said Xavier, not wanting to draw unnecessary attention. "Just tell her it's Xavier."
The guard eyed him. "Please show a license of the weapon you're carrying."
Xavier bit the inside of his lower lip. "Why?"
"We have a protocol, sir. You can not take that inside."
"Fine. Keep it safe for me then." He smiled, took the gun out, and handed it over to the guard.
The guard placed one hand on his chest to stop him from going in and grabbed the gun with the other. "I still need to see your ID and license for this, please."
He sighed, then fished out his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans and showed him his ID.
The guard nodded. "And license?"
Xavier shook his head slightly. "Just talk to Giselle. She's your boss, no?"
"I'd need to see the license."
He gritted his teeth. "Give me back my gun, and I'll leave."
"I'm sorry, sir. I can not let you carry an illegal weapon."
He glared at him. "I have a license. Would a picture suffice?"
He nodded.
Xavier opened the fake license picture Sean had given to each gang member. It was in case any of them ended up in a similar situation.
The guard took a moment to check it, examined his gun, then checked the bag he was carrying. Once satisfied, he handed him the bag, eyed him, and said, "Everything looks in order. Please remember to take your gun back on your way out."
Xavier put the phone and his wallet back in his pockets, grabbed his bag, and made his way to the door. The doorman opened it, and he headed toward the reception.
"Is Giselle here?" he said to the girl behind the counter who wore a black suit and big spectacles.
She didn't look up from her computer but tucked a strand of her straightened black hair behind her ear. "I'm sorry, she doesn't work here."
His brows merged. "What about Chris? I need to see him."
"Do you have an appointment, sir?"
He gritted his teeth. It was as if his patience was being tested, and he knew how close he was to punching someone.
"Call him," he said.
She looked up and smiled. "May I please ask what this is in regards to?" Her sweet tone made him sick.
He mocked her tone with the same sick-sweet smile. "You please tell him that the job is done, and that the man he wanted me to kill is now six feet under."