"You got everything ready Mack?"
"Don't worry old man. I got this," Mack answered his 40 year old partner who sat beside him in the Humvee. Mack preened in front of the rear view mirror while wearing his coat and adjusting his bow tie.
"What in blazes is that get up?!" The old man blanched at the outlandish hue of Mack's tuxedo. "You'll stick out like a sore thumb with that piece of crap!"
"It's a party on a yacht, so I'm wearing something ocean-themed." Mach brushed off the small strands of lint on his sapphire-colored tuxedo. "Besides, it's a masquerade ball. How can I snag some ladies if they can't see my devilish good looks? The key to attractiveness is to stand out Donovan. You should learn a few tricks from me."
"Whatever Casanova." Donovan let out a heavy sigh. "Let's run a final check. Equipment?"
"Glock on my holster and some spare ammo in my Chelsea's." Mack opened his tuxedo coat to show his holstered Glock and then pointed down at his pair of ebony Chelsea's. "It's the new Aerodynamic series. Got it for a good price from E-bay."
"Goddamit Mack! Focus!" snapped Donovan. "And the objective?"
"You're kidding, right?" Mack smirked while raising an eyebrow at his mentor. Donovan Just scowled at him, waiting for an answer. "The Philippine president is attending the party and I'm to keep an eye on him," answered Mack, his smugness melting away at Donovan's pensive stare.
"Good, just testing if that bleach on your hair hasn't seeped through your brain and fried it." Donovan nodded and chuckled. "And your conversational Filipino?"
Mack rolled his eyes. "Relaks ka lang tanda. Ako na bahala." he said in the most convincing accent he can speak.
"I have no clue what you just said. You better not be cursing at me white boy," said Donovan while reaching for the glove compartment.
"Aw, that's sweet Donovan. So this is about skin color now? You racist prick," said Mack with a cajoling tone.
"Kiss my wrinkly Jewish ass anytime if it'll make you feel better. Here." Donovan pulled out a mask from the glove compartment and tossed it toward Mack. The young man caught it with his left arm, his sleeve dropping slightly to reveal a small blemish on his left wrist. It was an accidental muzzle burn from his rookie days as a cop.
"Does that thing still itch?" asked Donovan after a catching a short glimpse of the muzzle burn.
"Occasionally. But not like before when it itches like hell," said Mack while snapping on the mask.
"I know that staying in the Force had been unpleasant but, I'm glad you're sticking up for what you believe," said Donovan with a morose tone. "I may enjoy beating your head around senseless but I always got your back kiddo. Just letting you know."
"Thanks Boss." Mack smiled at his mentor and then stepped out of the Humvee. He ran his fingers through his bleached hair while staring at the side view mirror and then gingerly wore a fedora on his head. He turned his face sideways to make sure that the fedora complimented his rectangular jaw and his well-groomed goatee. He then straightened his body to face Donovan.
"Things have been bad in the past, but I'm grateful that I'm still in the Force," said Mack while tipping his fedora. "I stay because I owe you my life."
Donovan smiled and then pointed at his right temple. "The button for the transmitter is on the right side of the mask. Just get in there dimwit. You've wasted enough time already with that mushy crap," said Donovan which Mack retorted with a hearty laugh. "I still love you old man, no homo. Take care of my pet tortoise if something happens to me," shouted Mack while sauntering toward the yacht, his voice echoing in the cold and salty evening air of the marina.
