Single Minded Purpose

Searching in a Cesspool

Disclaimer: I don’t own the Matrix.

Smith drove to the bar that the Frenchman had suggested his informant might be found. The bar was what most people would call a dive, and it was the kind of establishment the more respectable citizens of the city stayed away from. When he entered the doorway, he wrinkled his nose in distaste as the combined odours of cigarette smoke and the strong smell of stale urine from a nearby men’s room assaulted his nostrils.

This place is a cesspool, he thought, and the corners of his mouth turned down in severe displeasure at having to even cross the threshold of a place such as this. But, however repugnant this place was, he knew that he had to overcome his revulsion if he wished to discover where Mr. Anderson and his companions met. His instinct told him that the people who came here did not open up readily to strangers, let alone a man wearing an Armani suit; in order to encourage them to tell him what he wanted to know, a generous financial incentive would definitely make his task easier. The quicker I find my contact, the sooner I can get out of here.

He purposefully walked to the bar and handed the bartender a one hundred dollar bill on top of a photo that had been taken from the surveillance camera of the lobby that Neo and Trinity had demolished before their rescue of Morpheus from the custody of Jones, Brown and himself. Before he had even arrived at the club’s location, Smith had already determined that he would first show the photo before asking for anyone by name. He would not ask for the name of his contact until he was sure that the Merovingian had directed him to the right place.

“Have you seen either of these people?” Smith asked. The sight of a man in an expensive business suit flashing around C-notes was not a common sight in that establishment and it wasn’t long before there was an interested group of onlookers around him, each peering at the photo in their turn and every one of them shook their heads.

A woman on the outer fringe of the group that was now clustered around Smith insinuated her way next to him. He did not miss her sudden intake of breath as she saw the photo. When he met her gaze directly, she shrugged as if she had recognized nothing and walked away. He took a stool at the end of the bar and followed her with his eyes, and when she sat down at a table, he continued to watch her.

With mild curiosity, he saw as she took what appeared to be a photo out of her pocket and gaze at it, a sad and forlorn expression on her face. She stroked the face of the person in the photograph with an abstracted thumb before returning it to her pocket when she heard the approach of the man who came in her direction.

“Break time’s over, Sarah,” a scruffy-looking, unshaven man wearing a dirty shirt said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. “Get back to work, before Max sees you.”

So that’s what she looks like, Smith thought, narrowing his eyes and taking a good, long look at her as she returned to her duties. Now that I know who she is, I will not forget her in a hurry. He turned back to his drink, but always keeping her in his sight and within his range of hearing.

At the end of her shift, she was frightened and a little surprised when she saw Smith leaning against his car, which was parked directly in front of the club entrance. “What do you want?” she asked in an undertone, looking constantly over her shoulder to see if anyone was within earshot.

“You know who those people were in the photograph I showed you, don’t you?”

She nodded nervously.

“Can you tell—“

“Not here!” she hissed in a whisper, still glancing around. “Someone may be listening.”

“Where can we meet then?”

“We can’t. I can’t afford to be seen with you. It’s too dangerous for me and you could get into serious trouble if Max finds out.”

Smith ground his teeth together in frustration. I finally found someone who knows something, and she is too afraid to talk to me. He reached inside his pocket and quickly wrote his cell phone number on a piece of paper and handed it to her. “If anyone asks, just tell them the truth--that I gave you my number. Call me. Or better yet,” he said, thinking quickly, “I’ll come by tomorrow night and see if we can’t get together then.”

She nodded and melted into the shadows.

lllll

The next evening, Sarah could not say she was surprised when she saw him at the bar again. She smiled to herself and went forward to ask for his drink order as he took his now-customary stool at the end of the bar, well out of earshot of anyone near him.

“What’ll it be?” she asked him, trying to act for the benefit of anyone watching that he was just another customer and she was just doing her job.

“Brandy.”

She shrugged and walked away. Smith knew it was probably a good idea if he ordered each drink separately for that would enable him to converse with Sarah each time she replenished his glass.

“I need to talk to you,” he murmured through almost motionless lips. “If not here, then you tell me when because I will come here each and every night until you do.”

Sarah looked into his face and saw that he meant every word he said. “Who the hell are you?” she asked, puzzled as to why this immaculately attired man was so determined to speak with her, “and why are you so damn interested in me?”

“Who I am is not important, but what I want is. I was told by your former employer that you might have certain information that I require.”

“The Frenchman said that?” she demanded, looking at him narrowly. Something about him was very familiar but she couldn’t put her finger on it. “I did work for his wife for a long time, but she fired me a couple of months ago.”

“I need to talk to you about the people in the photograph I showed you, it’s important.”

“Fine,” she replied curtly. “But the only way we can talk is if you drag me out of here.” At his puzzled look, she explained more fully. “My boyfriend, Max, is not a good person to piss off and he sees me as his own personal property. That’s my own fault, I guess, but it’s too late to change that. We get along all right, but if there is one thing he likes better than having me is getting his hands on money.”

Sarah was interrupted by a boisterous cheer than suddenly emanated from the far corner of the room. Smith turned to look and saw a large, overweight man seated at a table and it appeared that he had won yet another match in the manly art of arm-wrestling. Smith’s mouth curled upward in a smirk as he turned his attention back to Sarah.

“When I challenge Max to a match and after I win, I will demand that you leave with me.”

Sarah gaped at him, astonished. “After I win? You are pretty damn confident, aren’t you? Do you know that he has never, ever lost a match? He’s been unbeaten since long before I met him.”

“So you think that I am no match for your friend?” Smith asked her. She hesitated to answer and when she briefly sized him up, she shook her head with a slight smile.

“Look, no offence, but Max is almost twice your size and he outweighs you by at least 75 pounds if not more.”

“But when I win, will you come with me?”

“Sure.” As Smith got up to leave, Sarah put a small hand on his arm. “Are you sure you wanna do this? I mean, I’ve seen Max take down a lot larger guys than you. You could get hurt.”

“I can handle myself.” He saw the dubious look in her eyes. “You don’t believe me? Perhaps this will convince you. Will you hand me that phone book?” he asked. She obliged and watched him curiously as he held the book in his hands not as if he was going to open it, but across the top. With a sudden movement, he ripped it in half lengthways and smirked at her reaction as he handed the two pieces of the four-inch thick Yellow Pages back to her.

“How the hell--?” she gasped, her eyes widening in surprise and Smith saw raw admiration in their depths.

He shrugged. “Does it matter?”

“No, I suppose not.”

“Do you still think I won’t be able to beat him?”

“Hell, no! I mean, yes. Max won’t know what hit him.” And it’s about time too, she thought, that fat bastard seriously needs to be taken down a peg or two and if this guy can manage to do it, I’ll gladly follow him anywhere.

With Smith at her side, Sarah walked over to where Max was holding court over the usual bunch of hangers-on that surrounded him after a particularly satisfying win. His eyes fell on Sarah. “Yeah, what do you want? Ain’t you supposed to be working?”

“Max?” Sarah said nervously, stealing a sidelong look at Smith. “This guy—gentleman—would like to challenge you to a match.”

Smith sneered subtly and waited until the guffaw that broke out after Sarah’s statement to die down before he spoke. “I challenge you to arm-wrestle with me. If you win, you may have the keys to my car, my weapon and all the money I have. But if you lose, I get to take her home,” Smith jerked his head to where Sarah was now sitting. “Agreed?”

“What is so special about Sarah, Mr-I-Wear-My-Sunglasses-At-Night?” Max asked Smith mockingly. “Why would you want to sleep with her anyway? I mean, she’s so skinny, I have bigger tits than she does, for Chrissake!” He laughed at his own joke, and several of the people surrounding the table joined him. Sarah flushed in humiliation and lowered her head so that no one could see her face, but Max neither noticed nor cared. “I’ve got other girls here that would be happy to—“

“I’ve seen what’s available,” Smith said with a slight curl of his lip as his eyes raked over the overly made up but scantily dressed woman who was fawning all over Max, “but they don’t appeal to me in the slightest. She does, however.”

Max shrugged. “No problem. Whatever floats your boat, pal, it’s all the same to me. How much money have you got, anyway?” This was going to be the easiest dough I’ve ever made, Max thought smugly. This pencil-necked bean counter has no idea who he is dealing with.

Smith pulled his billfold out of his jacket pocket and threw it on the table, followed by his Desert Eagle and the keys to his Audi. Judging by the thickness of the roll of bills that was now on the table, Max estimated that his opponent was carrying upwards of at least three or four thousand dollars. This was going to be the easiest dough I’ve ever made, Max thought smugly. This pencil-necked bean counter has no idea who he is dealing with.

There were impressed murmurings as each item was placed in full view of all the observers who were now crowded around the table, watching the two seated combatants.

“Let’s get this over with,” Max growled as he stretched out his brawny arm, his elbow resting on the table. Slowly and deliberately, Smith removed his jacket and folded it neatly before giving it to Sarah. “Will you hold this for me?” he asked, his eyes meeting hers and a look of unspoken understanding passed between them. She took it from him, giving every show of reluctance; she had a part to play and she knew she had to perform it convincingly enough in order for Smith’s plan to work.

When his shirtsleeves were rolled up, Smith grasped Max’s hand and the match began. The smirk on Max’s face vanished when he felt the strength in Smith’s grip. When he and Smith began, Max came to the realization that, for the first time, he would lose. With a jerk of his hand and a sneer on his lip, Smith sprained Max’s wrist. A collective gasp of shock rippled through the onlookers, but Sarah was too late in suppressing a snicker.

Reclaiming his property from the table, Smith rose and took Sarah firmly by the elbow, propelling her from the room. “A deal is a deal. You are coming with me,” he snarled, giving her no time or opportunity to argue. “Get in,” he ordered, after opening the passenger door for her and she got in without a word. The tires of the Audi squealed on the pavement as its owner floored the accelerator.

To anyone watching, the scene had had the look of a woman being roughly dragged from a bar, but once inside the car, Smith’s attitude and demeanour changed immediately.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, glancing over at her.

“Not really, but I sure could use a drink,” she replied. She looked out the car window and frowned. “Where are we going?”

“To your old place of employment, La Verite.”

“We can’t go there!” Sarah protested. “I got fired, remember? If I show my face there after what happened, either he or she will make sure that I get thrown out on my ass!”

“No, as long as they see that you are with me, they will do nothing of the sort, I assure you,” Smith replied easily.

“Why are you so keen on going there?”

“The Merovingian has had many firewalls installed and all exiles who go there are safe from the upgrades.”

“I suppose,” she said reluctantly. “But I’m not dressed properly—there is a dress code and it’s very strictly enforced.”

“If anyone says anything to you, let me deal with them.”

Once inside the parking garage, he parked the car and escorted Sarah to the VIP elevator. They were not the only occupants as two women got on with them. With disdain, they glanced at Smith and his companion.

“My, my,” said the eldest of the two in a barely concealed whisper to the other, “standards are certainly falling for this place, wouldn’t you say, Marsha? It seems that they are letting just anyone in these days.”

For the second time that evening, Sarah felt humiliated, but Smith was true to his word. “Any woman who would even think of wearing last season’s Magli shoes should refrain on commenting on the appearance of others.” He turned his head and looked at her in a manner that her blood seemed to freeze in her very veins. She blanched and swallowed nervously, drawing the fox fur stole she wore more closely around herself, as if the temperature had suddenly dropped. Once the elevator doors opened, she scurried out, her friend Marsha behind her.

“Thanks,” Sarah said, giving Smith a grateful smile. But you can’t protect me from the stares I am going to get when everyone sees how badly I am dressed, she thought, idly wiping her hand on her clothes in an attempt to smooth out the wrinkles. While I was working here, if any woman showed up in a tee shirt and jeans, she would have been escorted out before she barely got to say hello to the maitre d’.

With a hand in the small of her back, he guided her to a table that was next to a window and when the waiter came for their order, Smith ordered his usual snifter of brandy while Sarah ordered a glass of red wine. Surreptitiously looking around, she was aware that many glances were being directed her way.

Once their drinks arrived, Smith went straight to the business that had brought them together. “You’ve seen this man and woman before, haven’t you?” Smith pressed.

“Yes, I’ve seen them. I hate them,” Sarah said angrily, “more than you could ever know, and if you want to kill them, then I will tell you everything I know. I don’t care if you or I get to them first but I want them both dead.”

Smith looked at her and saw in her eyes a passionate hatred for Neo and Trinity that easily matched his own. “What did they do to you? Why do you hate them so much?”

“My fiancé was a security guard at a Federal government building downtown. One day, these two came in and went postal, shooting Danny and all of his co-workers in cold blood. They didn’t even give him a chance to draw his weapon. After they were done, they somehow got a hold of a helicopter and crashed it into another building, but I don’t know too much about that. Since then, I’ve been trying to find out where they are, as well.”

“What have you found out?”

Sarah shook her head. “Not much, I’m afraid. But I did see them once….” She broke off, uncertain how to continue. This man would think I’m a complete nutjob if I told him what really happened that day, she thought.

“What happened?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, trust me.”

Smith leaned forward even closer. “Nothing surprises me anymore. Try me,” he said. When she didn’t answer or respond, he took her chin in his hand and made her look at him. “Please tell me.”

Sarah sighed. “OK, you asked for it. I saw them once outside an apartment building and followed them; not close enough so that they would suspect me, but close enough so I could keep tabs on them. They went into an old warehouse or something. I slipped in a side door, but they didn’t see me. The phone started ringing in one of the offices and I saw one of them pick it up and listen….”

“And?”

“They put the receiver to their ear and disappeared. They disappeared into the goddamn phone! One minute they were there, and the next, they were gone!”

“Have you seen them recently?”

“Last week. Something big was going down, I think.”

“What makes you say that?”

“There were more of them than usual.” She scoffed. “They try to blend in, but everybody around here knows they don’t belong in our neighbourhood. They usually dress in leather, with these long black coats that go down to their ankles. Nobody down here dresses like that. All of them wear sunglasses all the time, even at night and they all carry guns.”

“Have you ever seen their leader?”

She nodded. “He’s a big, bald African-American guy seems to be in charge. I’m not sure of his name, though. It’s Mor—something, if that means anything to you.”

“Morpheus,” Smith snarled.

“Yeah, that’s it.”

“Where do they meet?”

“There’s a dead-end alleyway at the side of a derelict building and it’s not far from here, but two guys with guns usually keep a lookout.”

“How did you know they are armed?”

“I was curious about why all these people keep meeting at that particular location and one night when I knew they were there, I pretended to be drunk, lost, and looking for a party. I managed to open the door and they shoved these guns in my face and told me to piss off. That’s how I knew. Christ! Look at the time,” Sarah exclaimed, looking at her watch. “It’s past 11 o’clock! What am I going to tell Max?”

“Tell him the truth—that I only wanted to talk, but don’t tell him what we were talking about.”

“Don’t worry I won’t. Besides, I don’t think he’d believe me anyway.”

lllll

From his vantage point at the high table, the Merovingian watched Smith and Sarah conversing with a curious eye. It should be very interesting to see what her brother will have to say if he ever saw you in her company, he thought as he raised the glass of wine to his lips and drank.

I will not be the one to tell Seraph his sister was here with Smith tonight; let him find out on his own. Although, I do have to admit that I would very much like to see his reaction. If you had remained loyal to me, Seraph, or should I refer to you as Judas, I would have seen to it that you were informed immediately. But after your defection? I think not.