Work Text:
“You can come in now.”
The young man, 19 years old, slightly thin for his size, with pale skin and dark hair stood, straightening his cheap threadbare suit jacket and followed the other man into the room beyond the small “lobby-esque” area where he sat. Entering the room, which- to his astonishment- was floor to ceiling green, the young man studied the space. There was a large high table in the center surrounded by tan leather barstools, a modern chandelier, and an actual bar at the far end of the room. He found it odd to have what was basically a job interview in such a room, but— who was he to judge? He just needed the job.
He was directed to sit in a chair across the table from an extremely attractive older man with a tablet who sat facing the massive windows. Four other men in black suits stood around the room, including the one who had led him in who stayed closer to the door. The young man took note of their positions— as well as the telltale bulge at their sides under their jackets, which were of better quality than his own secondhand jacket. This group didn’t look like the “Colt types”, and the bulges were too big for Rugers. He was guessing they were all packing Berettas or Glocks. He supposed they might have been Smith & Wessons… Standard issue. No silencers at the moment— why would they need it? They were on their home turf. Their coats were all unbuttoned, meaning they were ready to use them if necessary. Except for the fool that had let him in near the door.
He was studying the room for points of entry and egress, weak points, the surveillance cameras, and eyeing the bartender (betting he was probably packing as well- on second thought, maybe his weapon was stashed under the bar), when the older man across from him suddenly cleared his throat softly. The observant eyes snapped to attention. The young face was cool, calm, collected, and giving away nothing.
The man with silver streaks peppering his hairline across the table was between forty-five and fifty years old, if he had to guess, which he did not. He had done his research. Just because the man had married into the Theerapanyakul Mafia family didn’t mean all traces of him had vanished. And research was something the candidate excelled at.
Pachara “Porsche” Kittisawat Theerapanyakul, primary gender: male, secondary gender: Omega, born February 24, 48 years old, 180cm, 70kg— No, old info. Maybe 72 now. Parents deceased, oldest of two children, younger brother Porchay “Chay”. Former bartender at Yok’s bar (now closed), hired as bodyguard for the Theerapanyakul Mafia family, currently married to second son Anakinn “Kinn” Theerapanyakul, father of three—
“Says here you are nineteen. Why would you want to work here, Mr. Chaijindar? Shouldn’t you be in university?” The older man looked up from reading off his tablet.
“Can’t afford it.”
“Why not ask your parents to pay your tuition?”
The young man has to suppress the desire to sneer. He knew damn well that they were looking at his file and application right now. ‘Parents: Deceased’ He’d been bounced from orphanage to foster care to temporary homes more times that he could count in the past ten years. No one wanted a nine-year old brat. They wanted the younger kids that he’d helped take care of, robbing him of his own childhood. The boy had honed an excellent poker face since then. Were they asking him to lie?
“They couldn’t afford it either.” Which was actually true— his parents had left nothing. There was no money, and hardly a single memory, only debts.
“So you want to work for the mafia?”
The young man said nothing. To be honest, he didn’t care either way. Mafia or not. He just didn’t want to be on the streets any longer. He was tired. Tired of wondering how he was going to eat his next meal. Tired of roaming from place to place, trying to find a place to sleep where he wouldn’t be assaulted in the middle of the night or having to sleep on cardboard, surrounded by rats and cockroaches— of the human and animal kind. Tired of the looks on people’s faces when they stared at him.
“There’s not a whole lot of information here, Mr. Chaijindar.” The older man looked up at him again.
The young face that seemed to be made of marble never flinched, his (according to everyone Sky met) “amber-colored eyes” were steady. “There’s nothing to tell.”
The Omega seemed to find it funny and flashed a smile that probably lit up rooms, but the young man across from him was immune. He’d seen smiles similar to it before. He didn’t trust smiles. They hid true intentions.
“Have you ever done this kind of work before?”
“If I had, I would have mentioned it. Or did I provide all of the information on that tablet for nothing?” The moment the words left his mouth the lips sealed tight, the teeth snapping slightly. He’d slipped. His mouth had run away from him— again. Refocus! “Wouldn’t it be better to hire someone young and without any preexisting bad habits from previous employers? You must train your own people…”. He left the sentence open on purpose.
Porsche nodded. “We do. Extensively. But under these circumstances, we need people with specific skills and talents, which… You do not seem to have.”
“Those things can be learnt.”
The older man scoffed. “Not everything can be taught.”
The room was silent for a moment.
Porsche dropped the tablet. “Have you ever had a relationship with an employer?”
“Excuse me?”
“Have you ever slept with a superior at work or had an inappropriate relationship with a coworker?”
The younger man had been thrown off kilter for a moment, but remembering the file he’d composed, the history made sense. “Is this standard questioning for position candidates here?”
The Omega smiled the wide grin again. His eyes twinkled this time. “Let’s just say that we would like to avoid any entanglements that might threaten the family.” Ever since his own time here as a bodyguard, the rules had changed.
Sky thought for a moment before saying, “I think it’s detestable.”
The older man arched an eyebrow and looked half-amused and half-insulted.
They sat there, sizing each other up. The candidate well aware that he’d subtly insulted the other man and husband of the head of the mafia. The older man looking mildly impressed that someone who claimed to need a job so badly was willing to speak so abruptly.
Finally, Porsche looked back down to his tablet, powering it off, and gestured a dismissal with his hand. “That’s all, you can go. We don’t hire kids. Try again in a few years.”
A cold look swept over Sky’s face. He stood, pushing his chair back with his legs. With the same calm he’d entered, he straightened his thin jacket again and turned to head back out the door they’d come in. As he passed the bodyguard standing next to a small padded wall section, he saw movement behind him in the reflection of the glass windows. In less than one second, Sky had the bodyguard to his left’s arm pinned at his back and hid behind the man, facing the other two with their Glocks pointed at him. The bodyguard he was using as a shield was trying to maneuver himself out of Sky’s iron grip and reaching for his own weapon in his buttoned jacket, but Sky was faster. With his lightning quick reflexes, he snaked his hand under the bottom of the guard’s jacket and had the man’s own pistol pointed at the back of his head.
Sky was using the small wall next to him as additional cover, but it also gave him a clear path to the door back out to the lobby area he’d been sitting in. While he’d been waiting for them to call him in, he’d scouted out the area and identified three possible exits. But the guards pointing their guns at him were wearing ear pieces. He could faintly hear the chatter from the ear piece of the guard in front of him. Someone must have been watching the security feeds in real-time. No doubt, there’d be reinforcements on the other side of that door. Fine. He had thought of this possibility. Even dead was better than another day out on the streets.
Porsche never stood up from his chair. He simply crossed one leg over the other. “You’re mighty jumpy.”
“I’m not the one who tried to shoot myself in the back.” Sky could see the Omega from his position, peeking between the edge of the wall and the pinned bodyguard’s head. Two of the three other guards were slowly shifting their positions, trying to find a good angle. (The last one stayed close to the Omega, ready to protect Porsche with his body.) They’d have to be a crack shot to hit Sky in the head, unless they didn’t like this guard too much— in which case, they’d just shoot through him.
The Omega addressed him again. “You do realize you won’t leave this room alive after this little stunt, right?”
“Naturally.”
“You don’t seem terribly upset about that fact.” Porsche obviously felt secure enough that one of his bodyguards would drop Sky before he’d be able to shoot him, but the nonchalant answer seemed to have caught the Omega off-guard…
“I’m more concerned about the fact that I was able to get the drop on one of your guards, in spite of my lack of ‘specific skills’… If this is the quality of training I can expect here, perhaps I should seek employment with another family.” Sky was pushing hard. He had no intentions whatsoever of going to any of the other families. He knew how they treated their guards… But the Theerapanyakuls treated their guards closer to family, to pack.
Porsche clearly understood exactly what Sky was implying. ‘Hire me or my skills go to your enemies.’
The Omega smiled that damnable smile again. “Well, we can’t have that now, can we?” He turned to his team leader over his shoulder. “Take him. Get him started.”
When the other guns lowered, Sky released the guard he held pinned, pushing him away while stepping back at the same time lest he decide to swing or grab the gun, before finally ejecting the clip from the gun. The Omega’s guard stood directly between Porsche and the new recruit. Only when the other guns that had been pointing at him were safely holstered did Sky clear the round from the chamber.
So— a successful interview!