An outdated theory postulates that love and war are the best measures of a man.
After his brother is killed, Mark fears a second killing is about to take place, this time his own.
He decides to escape and to plot his revenge. But, with murder on his mind on the way to the airport, love strikes. The two forces of nature will battle for Mark’s soul with tragic consequences.
I need a drink. I think he needs one too.
“What will you have?”
“Do you have any Cointreaux?”
“Yes, I do. I was waiting for you to come join my organization one of these days, relentless optimist that I am, so I stocked up. But you never did. Mark, I always wanted you inside. Outside you are too dangerous. People like you should not exist. You see, if you had accepted my offer your brother would probably be still be alive.”
“Or we’d both be dead.”
“Yes you sure would, but I wouldn’t.”
So I shoot him in the head with his own gun when he expects it least. He dies instantaneously, a big smile on his face. It’s the kind of common courtesy we are known to do for each other from time to time.
