Two
James got up that morning, his mind made up. Today was the day. It was the Tuesday that would change his entire life. It was his birthday anniversary. He got up before his alarm, took a hot shower, ate a warm breakfast, cleaned the house, wore the leaden suit his dad had bought him when he bought his house, grabbed his coffee, left the suitcase and grabbed the metro train.
Waiting for the subway train, he noticed a little kid staring up at him while she held onto her mother's hand. He tilted his head at her, and then the train arrived. He got in, sat as rigidly as possible, his fingers tapping his knees as the subway train gently rocked from side-to-side the entire journey.
He got out at the usual spot, weaving his way through the usual New York hustle and flow of people who never looked at each other, passing by the newspaper stand where Charlie was chatting with the usual customers.
A few minutes later, he stopped and stared up at the tall ninety-four storey building he called his office. That morning, he saw that dreary monolith of brick, metal and glass in a different light. It was promising.
He made his way through reception with his usual detached nonchalance, got into the elevator, rode it to the fortieth floor and walked into the open plan space him and several hundreds of analysts called an office.
He sat at his desk and moved his eyes around his belongings. "Huh. They haven't confiscated it all yet." He mumbled and logged in.
After finishing clearing all the data from his computer and creating multiple copies, he looked through the security cameras he had hacked into and saw the security sweeping floor by floor.
"There we go," he said dryly and rose from his desk, grabbing the watch his boss had given him on his last birthday. He made his way to the elevator, pressed the button and quietly waited as it ascended to the top floor.
When he reached the top floor, he took the stairwell that brought him out to a bright blue sky where the breeze was fresh and the hustle and bustle of the city couldn't reach him. There was a ledge a few meters ahead. He put on his watch and approached it, gently sitting on it, dangling his legs over, staring at the view. He might as well take some time up here.
+
Solo woke up that morning before Trey and gingerly took a shower, wishing she could stay in there forever. But after her elongated shower, she briskly got ready, got dressed in that black pleated skirt, a maroon turtleneck and the skirt's suit coat, glancing at Trey asleep like a baby on the bed.
"What a sight," she mumbled and immediately pulled off the ring, setting it under the lamp before heading out. She grabbed her purse, keys and jumped into her car. It was before dawn so she spent the approaching morning driving absentmindedly.
An hour later, she made a pitstop by the gas station, filled up her car, grabbed an egg sandwich in the diner next to it and then drove down the road to the city.
The traffic was lifeless as usual. She spent thirty minutes at the front of the chain of cars, staring at the red light, the radio playing in the background. There was a morning podcast about relationships she barely heard as she stared into space. The host said something about lack of communication being the root of most conflicts and how many loveless relationships like marriage were often endless because partners were bad communicators.
Silence, the host had said, was not a solution to all problems, rather the reason for their progression.
Solo didn't realize it when she involuntarily turned off the radio. The traffic lights flickered to a bright green and she drove forward with a knee-jerk reaction, making her way to the office. She fluidly made her way around the underground parking lot, finding a spot quicker than she could exhale and then went up to the office.
She avoided eye contact with everyone she walked past, flashing a half smile when she ran into her boss.
"You came early again," Richards said.
"Today's the day," she chuckled dryly, walking fast past him.
"Don't overwork yourself again!" Richards called after her.
She winked and pointed at him as she flew to her office, shutting herself inside. Her purse fell onto her desk, she sat down and then she flew through all the work she had stacked up the day before. A few hours later, depriving herself of any bathroom breaks and skipping brunch, she finished everything and shut down her computer.
She mailed her documents to the printer and immediately burst out of the office, leaving her bag. Reaching the printer, she took out the files for Richards and separated them from her resignation letter.
"Done?" Richards marvelled as she plopped the documents on his desk.
"Everything from today, tomorrow, the day after, the week after and three months ahead." She answered.
The man smiled. "What would I do without you?"
She nodded and walked out of his office.
"Wait, Leary." Richards stood up, cut her off and closed the door before she could get out. "What's the hurry?" He smiled, his voice low.
She shook her head.
He frowned at her, and squinted at the purple mark on her neck. "What's that?" He reached for her collar.
"Richards!" She gasped, covering her neck. "I gotta go. Lunch break." She mumbled, eyes wide.
Richards stared at her for a moment before he raised his hands and stepped back. Solo chewed on the inside of her mouth, opened the door and briskly walked out.
Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she made her way to the elevators. She grabbed one and rode it to the top where a soft and cool breeze blew against face, blowing her braids aside. She exhaled, her heavy legs making their way to the ledge. But she paused upon seeing a man in a leaden suit already perched on the ledge.
She was a little confused. She didn't expect to find anyone sitting up here. If she didn't approach carefully, the man might have been startled and accidentally fell over. She made her way to the ledge, hiding her wrists and neck with the turtleneck.
"Mind if I join you?" She mumbled after clearing her throat.
James reacted a few seconds later, turning to find this random woman in braids sitting next to him on the ledge.
"Are you gonna jump?" Solo lightly teased, also dangling her legs over the side of the building.
James register her words for a moment. "Yes." He replied without cracking an expression.
Solo raised her eyebrows, slightly taken aback by his blunt answer. She gazed forward towards the cityscape. "Too bad," she said. "I had the same idea first."
James glanced at her, not moved but his curiosity piqued a little. "How would you know when we've never associated?"
"I don't have to know," Solo sighed. "Judging by the look on your face, your problems are recent. As someone who has problems, I know this stuff."
James stared at her for a moment, gauging her expression and her mannerisms. He had come to jump and he didn't want to associate with anyone. Today was perfect because it was his birthday. Solo's presence didn't change his present goal. He turned away from her and kept his sights forward, mentally preparing himself for what he was about to do next.
"So which department are you from?" Solo asked, fixing her turtleneck.
James paused and glanced at her. "What?"
"I've never ran into you before." Solo replied. "It is a big building, after all."
James looked away. "Information Security. Analyst."
Solo nodded at his reserved answer. "P.A. What floor?" She asked again.
"The middle ones," James replied, looking over the edge of the building.
The woman nodded. She fixed her turtleneck again before leaning closer to ask, "Lemme guess, wife left you? Didn't like your dry personality?"
James snapped his head at her, dark bangs framing his eyes. She grinned at his reaction.
"Ah. I see." She nodded. "You're gonna jump because your wife dumped you for someone with more character."
"She's dead, actually." James said flatly.
"Did you kill her?" Solo scoffed.
"The company did." He said.
"The company?"
"Yes."
"Which one?"
"Yours and mine."
Solo nodded. "Tell me about her." She nudged his arm.
"What?" James grumbled, glancing at her.
"Tell me about your dead wife before you jump to join her." She prodded him again.
James tried to resist but Solo kept prodding and pestering him until he broke and exhaled. "Her name… was Angie."
"Angie, as in, Angel?" Solo squinted.
"Angie, as in Angelica," James sighed. "She was an undercover agent in the Stray God Project."
Solo's eyes went wide. "Stray God? As in, Angelica Hughes? You're Angelica Hughes's husband?"
"I'm a widower, as you can tell," James turned away from her, a frown forming on his face before it immediately faded. "She died six months ago during the Stray God Project and I have been by myself since then."
"Well, that explains your sunshine attitude," Solo shook her head, looking at him with empathy.
"The company did nothing to avenge all the fallen agents who went down, my wife included. The justice system for the CIA is shitty." He mumbled.
Solo squinted at him. "Avenge?" She poked his arm. "You wife and several other agents died in an operation and your version of vengeance is jumping off the side of the roof?"
James was still staring forward when he heard a very loud, very harsh and very obnoxious laugh come out of the woman. He faced her and found her in tears.
"What's funny?"
"Nothing!" She wheezed. "It's just that... your wife had a very epic death and she probably went down fighting, but you want to go out at three hundred miles per hour from the top floor!"
"You're one to laugh," James glowered. "Why do you want to jump—boyfriend cheated on you?"
The woman's laugh abruptly caught in her throat. She went still and James noticed how she tried to hide her neck and wrists. He grabbed her shoulder and pulled the collar down.
"Hey!" Solo barked. "Son of a—"
James came face to face with patches of deep and dark bruises decorating her neck, marks that resembled strangulation marks. His grip on her shoulder slipped. She silently pulled back, straighted and cleared her throat.
"My husband Terry is a former MMA fighter," she mumbled, showing her bruised wrists. "He drinks a lot and more often than not, he can't differentiate between the punching bag and me."
Her lip trembled before she caught herself. James heard the pain in her voice as she forced an exhale.
"Then there's my boss Richards who just can't get enough of me," she scoffed. "That bastard…"
James watched how she clenched her hands over her pleated skirt, her whole form trembling.
"It's already bad enough your husband uses you as a stress reliever from his work stress, but it's even shittier if your boss is using you like some cheap harlot!" She flung her hair back, dramatically wiping her tears before they could flow. "And he's the damn director of the CIA!"
James was a little hooked. He asked, "Did you leave them with a present?"
She snorted, sniffling. "Oh, yeah. I snuck my resignation letter in with his documents then I came here. And Terry can have his rock back. You?" She glanced at James.
James looked away, kicking his right foot lightly. "I hacked into the system and got a list of all the families of all the agents who died in the Stray God Project, wired them twelve million each, hacked into the FBI systems, found the perpetrators in Detroit, used NASA's satellite tracking systems and programmed one satellite to fall on their base. It's falling even as we speak."
The wind blew past the both of them softly, Solo gawking at the man as if he had three heads. He glanced back at her, his expression calm.
"You mustn't jump," he said to her. "You should push them off instead."
Solo finally regained her composure, blinking rapidly before blowing raspberries. "Okay! Wow! If that's true and you did all that—as an analyst for the CIA—you should be the one to jump."
James turned away from her mocking face.
"I bet you can't even jump. You can't embarrass your dead wife by leaping from a tall building! That's not the way to go!"
"The FBI are sweeping this whole building as we speak." James brushed his thumb over his watch's screen. "I regret nothing. Angie's death and all those other agents will be avenged by me in a few minutes."
Solo giggled. "This is exciting! I've never been so excited by death in my entire life! I don't even think I have the nerve to jump before you anymore!"
James turned away silently with a resigned expression.
Solo giggled. "Okay! I'll turn around, close my eyes and count to five and see how much of a chicken you are."
She turned away and covered her eyes. "Five… four… three… two…" she uncovered her eyes and turned back around. "...one…" Her smile faded as she glanced around. She was sitting alone, the wind still blowing softly.
"Hughes?" She quietly called. She looked at the ledge where James was a few seconds before and found a black watch sitting there alone. Her breath hitched. She picked it up with a trembling hand.
And immediately, a dozen FBI agents and some SWAT guys burst out onto the roof, commanding, "Freeze, Hughes!"
They found Solo sitting hunched alone on the ledge, a watch in hand.