“You realize who you kill back there, yah?”

Vincent Esposito set his briefcase and ID on the table in the interrogation room. “Vincent”

“Seventy-four” the interrogatee replied

“What an odd name.” He spoke with a comically over saturated European accent. “Seventy-four… your ah…”

“Experimental designation. Number 74.” He spoke robotically.

“Yes we are aware. You are most effective Hitman in organization.” Vincent leans back into his chair. “Just barely human. Blank slate.” Gesturing towards 74's face. “Your three piece suit is stylish. Black fit, bright red tie. Well suited man.”

“Thank you.” He said sitting completely still

Vincent leans in. “If I look away from you right now. I forget. Every. Facial feature. I could leave. You could slit my throat on lunch break. Yah? Walk away. Place the weapon in my hand and tell them I kill my self withit, yah?”

“Correct” he replied flatly.

“So this is what you do? In Italy, yah?”

“Correct”

“You freeze time. Thatis what you do. Speed walk through the crowd. The reporters. The bodyguards” He said with mad gestures. “Stab Rosella Mazzanti.” He flew rhythmically.

“Correct”

“And you give the weapon to brown man in turban. Perfect set up. They blame the blacks. The Muslims. The immigrants. For murder of lovely Italian white woman. The media shall eat it up! Ey?”

“As planned.”

“EXCEPT!” He howled. Leaping from his chair toward the table. “Except you stab 17 in chest!”

…

He settles himself, sitting in his chair again. “… number seventeen. While she assisted you.”

“My apologies” every so emotionlessly.

“IDIOTA!” He throws his briefcase to the wall in rage. “She sneezed!” He yells, pounding wildly. “She was fellow enhanced agent. She was assisting you!”

“I needed no assistance”

“She sneezed!”

“My ability deactivated as a result of that. It was… gross.”

“You Idiotic motherfucker! You realize what they will do to you! What they will do to me, as handler? For killing our own!? Yah!?”

“I would have been… compromised…”

“Ohh!” Vincent springs up from his seat “This game to you? Imminent death is game to you?” He forces himself closer to 74's face. “We are dead men walking. Dead fucking men!”

“I will not die”

“I have no doubt my friend. I will die!”

“… I will not allow you to die.”

“So what, yah? We live in dumpster by York road? By fast food place? Eating shit pizza till we are old men?”

“… Correct.”

Vincent slowly loses his zeal, and settles back into his seat. With his head down on the table. Behind his hands.”

“Fuck you”