Written by Derrick Nadeau
Greg’s mind frantically searched for a way out of his predicament, but was unable to find any solution. Closing his eyes, Greg ran through the events that had led him to this point in his mind. Greg had enjoyed his life as a sleeper agent, married to a wonderful wife and raising a good son, but his life had been ruined earlier in the evening when a man arrived at his door handing him an envelope and informing him that he had been activated. Being activated meant that, in addition to completing an assignment given to him by his superiors, Greg would also have to kill both his wife and his son to tie up any loose ends from his life as a sleeper. Though it broke his heart, Greg had completed the first step of his assignment, killing his wife by shooting her in her bed. The murder of his own wife had left him so distraught that Greg could not bear to kill his son. Instead, Greg had woken his son up from his slumber and attempted to escape with him. As Greg and his son attempted to run, his house had been invaded by a squad of men, each carrying a weapon.
Greg stared at the three men pointing guns at he and his son when he was suddenly distracted by the sound of footsteps climbing the stairs. Greg focused his gaze to the stairs in time to see the man who had activated him earlier in the evening approaching. Greg’s heart sank as the man walked up to him, paused briefly to look Greg in the eyes, then continued on to the bedroom where Greg’s dead wife lay. Greg looked down at his son and felt the urge to cry as he witnessed the pure terror in his young son’s eyes. A moment later, the man who destroyed Greg’s wife walked out of the bedroom, pausing once again to look in Greg’s eyes and shake his head in what Greg could only guess was disappointment, then continued on to the room of Greg’s son. Greg felt a sudden pain in his chest as the man then walked out of the bedroom carrying the gun that Greg had used to murder his wife. The man walked up to Greg and his son and pointed the gun at Greg’s head.
“What is your name son,” the man asked Greg’s son.
Greg’s son was too frightened to answer and could only stare up at the man with tear filled eyes.
“Too scared to answer,” the man continued. “I understand. It doesn’t matter any way, I know your name is Peter. “
“Please,” Greg pleaded. “Don’t hurt my son.”
“Shut up,” the man growled, jabbing Greg’s own gun into his forehead. “Shut up and do not say a word or I will make sure you and your son die a very slow, very painful death. Now then, Peter, my name is Samuel. But, you can just call me Sam.”
Sam bent down on one knee, looking Peter directly in the eyes, and let Peter get a look at Greg’s gun in his hands.
“Do you know what this is Peter,” Sam asked.
Peter’s lips trembled as he stammered out his response, “a g-gun.”
“Well, Yes,” Sam agreed. “But it is more than just any gun. This is the gun that your father used to kill your mother.”
Peter began to shake his head furiously as tears streamed down his face.
“It’s true,” Sam said, his face taking on an expression of mock sadness. “I’m sorry to have to tell you that.”
“You are lying,” Peter shouted.
“I know it must be hard for you to believe,” Sam said in a soothing voice. “But it’s true. You mom is dead, and your father is the one who killed her with this very gun.”
“Shut up,” Peter screamed. “You are lying! I don’t believe you.”
Sam let out a long sigh before standing back up and turning to one of the three men pointing guns at Greg. “Take him in and show him.”
“No, please,” Greg said, resulting in one of the men to jab the butt of his gun into Greg’s ribs.
As one of the other men grabbed Peter and dragged the screaming boy into his parents bedroom, Sam turned to face Greg, who was doubled over in pain from the shot to his ribs. Greg coughed as he clutched his sore ribs, and a few specks of blood found their way to the corner of his mouth.
“Why would you do that to him,” Greg asked between coughs.
“You surprised me tonight Gregory,” Sam said, examining Greg’s gun in his hands. “I am always surprised by you sleeper agents. No matter how many times I do this, I can never figure out what you fools will do. I can never anticipate how you will react. I guess, ultimately, that’s what makes my job so much fun.”
“What the fuck are you talking about,” Greg asked, spitting blood towards Sam.
“Oh, this is my absolute favorite part,” Sam replied with a hint of glee in his voice. “It might be a bit of a cliché, but I absolutely love this part where I get to explain everything to you right before I kill you. I completely understand why villains in movies do this.”
Before Sam could continue, he was interrupted by the cries of Peter in the bedroom.
“Ah, I see your son has seen your handiwork,” Sam said. “That’s certainly going to scar him for life. That will make him easier to keep in line.”
“What do you mean,” Greg asked, suddenly horrified.
“This is my favorite part,” Sam said, leaning in close to Gregory and speaking softly. “The truth is that you aren’t what you think you are. You were never what you thought you were. Everything you thought you knew was a complete lie.”
“What are you talking about,” Greg asked, spitting blood again.
Sam straightened up, flashed a wicked grin at Greg, then turned to face Greg’s bedroom.
“Bring the kid back out here,” Sam called out. “Let’s show Gregory here who the real sleeper agent is.”