Gifted
Phillips, Hector
Nineteen years ago.
Charles DuPonte heard a tap on his blacked-out car win- dow. Pressing the small button on his expensive leather door, the window slowly retracted. "Is it done?" he asked.
The man shook his head, rubbing his hand over his stubbled chin and mouth. He wasn't entirely sure how to explain what had just happened. "Err, we have a problem Sir."
Charles's lips formed a tight line. Breathing heavily through his nose he pulled hard on...