The accountant (flash fiction)

My accountant is an annoying man. Short. Brown hair. Too young and naive at the first interview to realize what sort of work I do. Not stupid enough to remain oblivious to my schemes once inside, but too scared to leave. It helps that there are numerous difficult clauses in the contract designed to keep employees trapped. Pointing the revolver at him when he threatened to quit also seemed to aid his decision to continue working for me. Who knows why.

“Mr Ellis, sir?” He sounds shakier than usual.

Leaning back in my big leather chair, I ignore him for a minute. Then I sigh. “What is it, Jeeves.”

“I– I– have something to discuss with you, please?”

I grit my teeth. If this is another problem with the books, I swear I’ll…

Swiveling my chair around, there are three loud bangs. There is a black-clad agent in the doorway. This moment outlines itself clearly in my mind. Jeeves, released and thrown back into the corner with his arms over his face. The agent’s tight uniform, straight pants and shiny boots, her jet-black hair in a long braid that drapes over her shoulder. Her face, youthful yet lined, not made-up, big, blue eyes behind the smoking gun.

My accountant is an annoying man. Disloyal. Traitor. He’s ended my career.

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