Chapter 13: The Drums Of The Dead

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"I can't help it, Agent Terry, it is one of my best skills, and I depend on talking to get what I want, and to give people what they want." Anderson slowly stood up from his seat, pushing the chair back. Then walked over to the kitchen table, opening the overhead cupboards to get two shot glasses and a bottle of Gin, Terry's favorite. "Enough with the formal, tense talk. Let's be casual, shall we? Oh and my dear friend Liam, you can go back upstairs, your wife is about to arrive in two minutes." Liam raised a brow at Anderson, hesitant to leave the room but shrugged and went out of the metal door.

Terry follows the Irishman's movements and watches as he closes that metal door. Turning back to Anderson, almost ready to stand up. "I swear Anderson if Liam locks that door I'm going to strangle you." Terry threatens with physical violence, while Anderson continues to calmly pour themselves a shot of that Gin Terry likes. "I'm a man of my word, so don't think you can smooth-talk your way out of a neck-lock." Terry continued with his hands clenched.

Anderson turns back around with the shot-glasses filled with gin held in both hands, sitting back down onto his chair he leans forward and sets one of the drinks in front of Terry, and sets the other in front of him. A small sigh and a nod come from Anderson, staring deeply into Terry's eyes. "Very well, I will ensure your… exit, after a deal has been reached. Now please, drink, it's Liam's collection and I had to give… a lot to get it from his hands, just for this one occasion." Reluctantly, Terry picks up the shot-glass of Gin before throwing his head back, gulping it all at once before setting the empty glass onto the table. "So, how does it taste?"

"...It tastes very crisp, refreshing with a hint of a kick in there. I like it," Terry answers the question, a small smirk forming on his face as he was giving away only a little bit of his satisfaction. It was his favorite, he enjoyed it exquisitely and if he could he would ask for more. "Although I'm a bit confused how this is such a prized commodity, that you don't explain how, or what you had to do to acquire it?"

Anderson chuckles and drinks his shot as well, before talking again. "I know you'll like it, and suffice to say Liam likes this particular commodity since it's from his family." Anderson's face turns to one of that concern, his eyebrows furrowed and his hand tightly holding the front-edges of his suit. "A family that he lost, it was a Sunday afternoon, the sun was high, the Eastern Seaboard was just as clear and crisp as ever. He's not an immigrant as you might expect, he comes from a long-running family dating back to the first settlers of the new world, dating back so long ago." Anderson leans forward, placing his hands on the edge of the table and looking straight into Terry's eyes. "They were killed, from his grandparents to his child without mercy, nor remorse. Remembering back to that moment, I saw humans, but I saw no humanity."

Terry remains skeptical, unsure whether this is a made-up story for Terry to be more in the favor of Anderson and Liam, or to give the favor of the deal for the reality bender. "They were after a family heirloom, Agent Terry, a small silver ball that coincidentally, was anomalous in nature." Anderson leans back to his chair again and smirks. "I'm sure you know where this is going now, in the end, they didn't secure the heirloom, and it got to the hands of Marshall Carter And Dark, sold to claimed owners."

"Is this some kind of trick to get me more in favor of you and Liam? To make me sympathetic or empathetic with the incident?"

Anderson chuckled and shook his head, pouring another shot of the gin and raising it. "I'm simply explaining the worth of this bottle of alcoholic beverage. I'm satisfied it happened, however, it means I have more opportunities. Without that event happening, I wouldn't be here with Liam, oh Liam with his cryptocurrency operations." And Anderson drinks the shot without a piece of hesitation, even with a small grin.

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