The Lord

Rune has a first encounter with the Lord of the Operation.

 4 ~ THE LORD

        “You’re the man in the portrait,” Rune realized, rubbing her throbbing head.  The man’s smug face changed.  

        “Good try, but no,” he growled, standing and walking away from the woman under the desk.  

        As he walked away Rune closed her eyes and let relief wash over her.  The image of the man’s face was imprinted in her mind.  His wiry brown hair.  His clean cut, masculine jowl.  His thin, almost feminine lips.  And all the intensity that could be held in a man.  

        Something hit Rune.  There was something that distinguished this man from the one in the portrait that until now had been masked by his intimidating persona.  This man, this Lord, couldn’t have been much older than twenty. 

        “Get out from under there,” he bellowed, “show yourself.” Rune obeyed, her only hesitation being to stuff the cell phone deeper inside her pocket. She looked first toward the door; her exit. There was no sign of the woman she heard earlier. Rune’s heart sank into her stomach.

        Rune’s gaze turned and met the Lord’s fierce eyes.  It was like staring into a laser.  She could see his eyes roving over her filthy clothes, her ratty red hair, the hole in her shoe.  Rune shifted, building herself.  When their gazes locked again, she had made herself just as fierce as the tall German man facing her.

        “I want to know who you are,” he growled in a low voice.  Rune did not allow herself to waver.  She ignored the pain in her skull.

        The cell phone vibrated frantically. She ignored it.

        “Okay, so I’m not a gardener,” she sighed, trying to sound collected. Her pounding heart hinted otherwise.

        “Tell me something I don’t know.”

        “Okay then, I’m Rune McDella. Your turn.”

        His face changed, turning curious.  His thin lips tightened and his gaze faltered, turning away in speculation.  Rune shifted, taking a breather while she didn’t have his eyes boring into her soul.

        “Wait, it can’t be,” he mumbled to himself.  He touched his face, muttering something that sounded like “not one of them”.  

        He straightened himself.  “Where are you from?” The man’s demeanor had turned favorably.  Instead of being intensely irritated he was now intensely curious.

        “Um, down there, I guess,” Rune pointed out the window.  

        “I mean your family.”

        Rune’s face flushed and she looked away.

        “Your ancestors.”

        She forced her gaze back to his.  “I’m Irish.”

        “How many McDellas are there in Ireland?” 

        “I dunno, I’ve never been to Ireland.”

        “Hmm,” the Lord uttered, calculating.  His finger touched his face, feeling the contours of his lips.  He muttered something unintelligible.

        “I did ask what your name was,” Rune ventured.

        The Lord looked up.  His eyes were penetrating.

        “You will refer to me as the Lord,” he said curtly.  Rune said nothing.  “You’re a spy, aren’t you?”

        Fear flashed across Rune’s face before she could control it.  Her palms felt cold.

        The Lord cursed suddenly, throwing his hands in the air and turning to pace around the room like a frustrated, captive animal.

        “Only Alphonse, only Alphonse, only Alphonse!” he roared, “and that stupid, stupid lobbyist.  Why am I surrounded by imbeciles?”

        He stamped over in her direction and Rune braced herself.  To her relief he didn’t end in front of her, but continued over to his desk.  He opened the drawer and cursed again.

        “You were rummaging around in my desk weren’t you?” 

        Rune said nothing.  Her head throbbed again and she touched it automatically.

        “Answer me!” before she could obey he continued.  “You’re a thief and a spy,” he groaned, grabbing a familiar triangular calculator, “and I don’t know why the hell I am keeping you alive, but I am.”

        Rune became aware of the frenzied vibrations inside her sweatshirt pocket.  She froze, eyes wide.  He saw this and became even more frustrated.

        “You’re surprised aren’t you?  Even greater reason I should get rid of you!” he muttered something angrily about a guilty conscience.

        Rune was quiet, locked in an internal struggle with her bewilderment.  She felt lightheaded.  

        The Lord eyed Rune suspiciously, then almost considerately as her face paled and her eyes glazed over.  He checked himself and was fierce again.

        Rune fell to the floor.  Her last vision was of an angel’s face, hovering above her.

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