Chapter 1

The chiming of the doorbell reverberated through the single-level home, shattering the morning silence. The unshaven forty year-old turned to look at the clock on the wall-7:30-too early for visitors. He rubbed his bloodshot eyes and ignored the unwanted intrusion.

It rang again. He continued his reading as he let out a slight yawn. They'll go away. Another ring. He took a deep breath, exhaled through his nose and waited. Ring. Ring. Damn it! They weren't going away.

He laid the morning paper on the kitchen table and took another sip of his steaming, freshly brewed coffee. He pushed his chair away and stood up, cinching his favorite tattered, blue bathrobe tightly around his rotund waist. He walked through the living room to the front door and swung it open the instant he reached it.

He glared down at the dark-haired, seven year-old standing on his doorstep.

"What do you want?" he huffed.

"Excuse me, sir."

The boy shifted his feet slightly and glanced everywhere but directly at the towering figure before him.

"A man gave me five bucks to give this to you."

The boy raised the package he was holding. It was almost too heavy for him to lift. The man opened his screen door, glanced up and down the street suspiciously, and then took the package from the boy.

"Thanks," he said as he began to close the door.

"Uh-the man said you'd give me five more bucks when I gave it to you," the boy said hastily, worried that he was about to be cheated out of his rightful reward for a job well done.

"Now did he?"

His eyes squinted, and he scratched the stumble on his face.

"Yes sir."

The boy smiled, displaying a mouthful of missing baby teeth.

The man reached into his pocket, pulled out a five-dollar bill, and handed it to the youngster. The boy grabbed the five and dashed off. He closed his door and trudged back into the kitchen, placing the package on the table. He loosened his robe and sat back down.

He gingerly opened the unexpected parcel and peeked inside. He couldn't believe it. It hadn't been bullshit after all. He reached inside and pulled out several bundles of cash, in all, one hundred thousand dollars. In addition to the money, he pulled out a single typewritten piece of paper.

It has begun. You are George.

He stared at the note and the pile of cash on the table. A knock on his door interrupted his concentration. Who could it be this time? he wondered. He quickly stuffed the cash back into the box, stowing it under the table and out of sight. Then, once again, he rose from his chair, strolled back to the front door, and answered it.

"What are you doing here?" he asked with surprise. "I haven't seen you in over a year."

"I've got a job for you," the acquaintance said, pushing himself past and into the living room.

"I ain't interested. I've already got something big lined up." He closed the door.

"Oh, you'll be interested in this."

The visitor abruptly turned back toward the man, firing one shot into his forehead.