The Last Option

Almost dawn Robert Ickovitch got up to empty his bladder. It was the fourth time he had done it since he had gone to sleep the night before. Sensing the urgency, he quickly went to the bathroom, rousing himself as he muttered expletives for suffering from a heart, high blood pressure, and prostate. He thought that a man like him, at the end of his sixties, should not suffer from so many things at once, and resigned, he entered the bathroom, raised the toilet seat and began to urinate. When he finished he emptied it and proceeded to wash his hands; in the mirror above the sink he noticed the figure of someone behind him and turned quickly, surprised.

"Make no noise, Mr. Ickovitch," Duncan ordered quietly, pointing a silenced pistol at him. "If you wake up your wife, I'll be forced to kill her. Do you understand?" "How did you get in here?" Robert asked with a trembling voice. "How did you circumvent the security system?"

"I have my tricks," Duncan told him, closing the bathroom door behind him, leaving the two of them inside. "Please, sit down," he pointed the gun at the toilet. Robert sat up slowly, staring at him and trying to remember where he had seen that face before.

"I know you," he told him when he remembered where. "You're the guy who goes to Louis Randall's office from time to time. I imagine he sent you to do his dirty work, to convince me to nominate him to fill Nathan Hicks' position. I always thought he was a creeping guy, but not he would go so far for the lust for power."

"No, Mr. Ickovitch, you're wrong," Duncan leaned toward him a little. "He didn't send me to try to convince you, he sent me to kill you," he told him with a sadistic smile, while Robert paled when he heard that.

"But, but..." Robert's voice was much shakier this time.

"I repeat that you don't make noise, otherwise I will kill your wife also if you wake her up. She doesn't deserve to die for your actions or for Louis's."

Duncan took an empty syringe out of his overcoat pocket and took the cap off the needle. Robert looked at him between scared and confused.

"Think about whether your wife deserves to die for this too, Mr. Ickovitch. You will decide here and now whether you alone die, or both of you die. I wonder if you love your wife enough to allow her to continue living. Of course it won't be the same for her without you, she will suffer your death for a while, but at least she will be alive."

Duncan held out the syringe with his left hand, still pointing the gun at him with his right.

"But, I don't understand," Robert took the syringe with doubt, while he kept looking at Duncan questioningly.

"Just make the syringe take in some air, Mr. Ickovitch, and then put it in your vein, inject the air, and that's it. Since you have a heart condition, your wife will suspect nothing when she discovers you here in the bathroom. She will think you had a sudden attack. As simple as that."

Knowing that he will die someday is one thing a man can deal with, but knowing that he will die right then and there was another thing.

With shaking hands, Robert made the syringe catch air; the crying got louder and louder, and Duncan warned him again not to wake his wife. Slowly, Robert brought the needle to his arm, feeling his heartbeat increase and he continued to cry. As he was about to insert the needle, he felt a sudden sharp pain in his chest and arms, and realized he was having a heart attack. Watching him squirm a bit from the pain, Duncan put his left hand on Robert's mouth and nose to muffle any noise or words he might utter.

Only a minute passed, after which Robert's body lay motionless on the toilet, his eyes wide. The syringe slipped from his hand and fell onto the cold bathroom floor. Duncan picked it up, replaced the cap on the needle, and put it in the pocket of the overcoat from which he had taken it.

"I knew you wouldn't do it," he said, closing Robert's eyes.

He came out of the bathroom, looked at the woman still asleep on the bed for a few seconds, and then left the room.

An hour later he returned to his apartment and after removing all his clothes he dove into his bed, hugging the sleeping body of Louis next to him. He felt him and barely moved a bit.

The shareholders' meeting was scheduled for ten in the morning. As always, Louis was in his office early, waiting for the scheduled time for the meeting; when it was ten minutes to ten Rebecca arrived, who went directly to the board meeting room, where the rest of the shareholders had also arrived. After her, Louis entered the living room and sat next to her. They all began to take their places.

"Gentlemen, good morning," Rebecca greeted. "Shall we begin? I want to get this over with."

"Robert Ickovitch and Jack Campbell haven't arrived yet," said one of the shareholders present.

"We can advance the stitches until they arrive," Rebecca said.

"I'm afraid it's not possible," another of them said, "the points to be discussed are so important that everyone's presence is needed."

"They're right, Rebecca," Louis said. "It's better to wait a few more minutes."

At that precise moment, a middle-aged white man with a fine mustache and glasses entered the room, who looked at those present with a tragic face.

"Mr. Campbell is here," Louis said to Rebecca, "now we must wait for Mr. Ickovitch."

"I'm afraid I have bad news, gentlemen," the newcomer said. "This morning Robert Ickovitch was found dead in his home."

Everyone present murmured among themselves for a few seconds.

"Holy God!" exclaimed the shareholder who had noticed the absence of the others to Rebecca. "What happened to Robert?"

"His wife said it was a heart attack," Campbell said. "She found him dead in the bathroom. She is devastated."

Among the group voices were heard lamenting what had happened, while everyone began to collect the folders that had been prepared for them for the meeting, with the intention of leaving. Seeing that, Rebecca caught his attention. "What are you all doing? Why do you collect everything?"

"There can't be a meeting like that, Miss. Hicks," Campbell said. "It's a special situation that-"

"Pullshit!" Rebecca interrupted him. "I just lost my brother and sister-in-law and I'm not crying around. The meeting can be done without that person."

They all looked at Rebecca surprised by her comment; neither dared to say anything to her as they continued to file toward the door, turning their backs on her.

"Where are you all going?" she yelled at them, getting up from her chair. "Come back!"

"Easy, Rebecca," Louis told her, taking one of her hands. "They are right, it's more than enough reason to suspend the meeting. We will continue another day." She released Louis's hand violently and crossed her arms.

"They are all Stupid! I wanted to end this today. Now I'll have to go back to this stupid company another day."

Although he did not notice it, as always, Louis was also upset, because he would not be named the new director of the company anytime soon. He didn't weigh well the scope of his decision to eliminate Robert Ickovitch and now he would have to keep waiting.