Chapter 8
Jack stared at 47. He was still sitting on the table with the coffee mug in hand. Actually it was more like he was leaning on the table. Jack now had his sleeves rolled up and he was sweating a little. There was silence in the room for quite a while.
"Is that it," asked Jack.
"No," 47 responded.
"Great," he said, "I was hoping for more."
47 said nothing. He just continued to look at the floor in front of him.
Jack got up from his table and walked to the door. A fresh wave of air came into the room as he opened the door. 47 had no idea how stuffy it was in there until the door was opened. He tried to see outside the door but Jack only opened it halfway. 47 couldn't see anything outside the door.
"It was getting kinda hot in here," said Jack as he reassumed his position in the table, "And you haven't broken a sweat."
Jack chuckled a little bit. There was a bit of a pause. 47 didn't move or say anything to Jack; he didn't acknowledge anything he did.
"You know," Jack started, "it's funny to even think of you as a teenager. It makes you seem a little more...human."
"Which is why I don't like talking about it," answered 47 in a mumble.
"Yeah but you weren't only a teenager; you were a dorky teenager. And you said you had hair!?"
"People change," 47 answered again in a mumble.
"Yeah that's very true," said Jack agreeing with 47.
"This story really puts things in perspective for me," Jack continued, "I mean even the people you look up to the most, the ones that seem like they are miles above everyone else...they are human, just like the rest of us. We forget that even legends are human beings. Somehow when people are viewed as legends they seem less human to the rest of us."
"I never claimed to be a legend," 47 said to Jack, "I was labeled that by other men."
"That's my point exactly Agent 47," Jack said to him, "I believe other people label someone as a legend to make them seem less human to others. That way they are thought of as untouchable, but in reality legends are just human. It's amazing how quickly we forget that."
"It seems we have something in common," 47 said to him.
Jack let out a laugh.
"Indeed we do. After all, I was able to capture a legend. It's our kind of thinking that makes us believe anything is possible. I suppose that kind of thinking helps you with your targets. It's easier to kill a man than it is to kill a figure, right?"
47 stared into Jack's eyes.
"Not unless you have a problem killing men," 47 said.
"I take it you don't have that problem," Jack asked.
"Not at all," 47 answered.
There was a bit of a silence among them.
"So about Amy," started Jack, "Was she dead?"
47 paused for a while.
"Yes."
Jack looked into 47's eyes, which were looking towards the ground. He saw the pain and guilt in his eyes.
"I'm sorry," he said in a serious tone.
He watched 47's eyes a little more. This was the first time he had seen emotion in his eyes. It made Jack feel a bit uncomfortable. He saw a waterline form on the lower eyelid. Jack blinked a few times just to be sure he wasn't seeing things.
47 closed his eyes the moment he realized he was starting to cry.
Jack stayed quiet for a few seconds.
"You avenged her didn't you," Jack asked curiously.
47 looked up at Jack and smiled.