Self Sacrifice

Andy had been paranoid, he'd worked himself up into such an excitement and anxiety - fueled frenzy that he hadn't left until he'd finished writing up everything he had so far, well, he came extremely close to finishing when the librarian kicked him out at closing time.

He'd been keeping up research for weeks, four to be exact, and had found absolutely nothing else out about Austin Carlile. It was that night when he was coming back from the library, when his phone rang, making him flinch as he kept to the quiet back streets, not wanting to be seen by anyone on the main streets, should they be looking for him.
"Oh, hi Craig."

"Hi, I was just checking in to see how it was going, and give you a tip off."

"Well now I'm intrigued, the article's fine, almost finished with what I've got so far, what's happening?"

"A party at the Plaza hotel, don't get too excited. One of those ultra snobby, private business parties. I've heard from an acquaintance that Hendleston is scheduled to appear. Slick your hair back, steal a waiter's outfit and you're all set to serve some champagne and steal some sneaky pics with the mini-camera whilst you're at it." Andy felt excitement wash over him and he walked slightly quicker.

"Fantastic! When is it?"

"Tonight, it starts at nine, so staff should be setting up in about quarter of an hour. Hurry up and get down there. Good luck." Andy hung up and raced home to hide the material before picking up his mini camera and setting off for the plaza. He went round the back and found two male waiters standing there smoking.

"Hey, what are you doing back here?" One of them asked inquisitively.

"They hired me to help out for the party tonight."

"Oh, sorry. Wait, you're not changed yet?? Hurry up, man!" Andy smiled and rushed in towards the lockers to find a spare uniform. He slicked his hair back and pinned the camera inside his sleeve, setting it to take pictures every few seconds unless he changed the setting. He helped everyone set up and start pouring champagne for when the guests arrived.

Everyone else had arrived by the time Hendleston showed up. Andy was enjoying the adrenaline as he offered him a glass of champagne which the other man took without a word. Andy circulated around as the other waiters did, keeping a close eye on him. When Hendleston's bodyguard whispered something to him and he spun round, Andy couldn't help but follow his eyes. Several people started whispering about the man who was apparently arriving, Andy wanted to see but was called into the kitchen to fetch more of the fine, golden alcohol. When he returned, everything had seemingly gone back to normal and he cursed, wanting to know what the commotion had been about. He took over from another waiter standing by the wall, and almost dropped the tray when a long-fingered hand reached out to take a flute of champagne, and said:
"I'll have one of those."

The action itself wasn't of any great horror, nor the words, but when Andy looked up and his eyes met dark brown ones, he felt his stomach drop to his feet.
"Certainly, Sir." He replied calmly, with a courteous smile, pretending as though he didn't know who the man was. To Andy's dismay he didn't move from his side, just sipped at his champagne and cleared his throat before saying:

"Andrew, it has been somewhat of a struggle to find you." The adrenaline turned to anxiety as he pushed a puzzled expression onto his face and looked at the other man.

"I'm sorry, Sir? How do you know my name?"

"Word of advice, I've found you now, I know your name, where you live, your route home every night. You have already inconvenienced me greatly, don't make it worse for yourself." Andy nodded politely at someone as they took another glass, replacing it with an empty one.

"I'm afraid I really don't know what you're talking about, Sir." The complete silence from the other man frightened Andy more than anything.

"I am a patient man, Andrew. It doesn't, however, last forever."

"What do you want?"

"I'm sure you already know. I shall collect it from you later." With that he walked off slowly, and Andy was left feeling as though his life had been threatened, when the man hadn't even done anything.

It took several minutes for the words "I shall collect it later," to properly sink in, and Andy rushed away from the hotel, taking his things with him and running home as fast as he could. He hurried to unlock the door and rushed in, only to find the man himself, sitting on his couch, bodyguards behind him.

"Christ.....how did you-"

"I warned you. Now, go and collect the memory stick for me, and any hard copies you may have of the article you are writing." Andy's fear was only matched by his anger.

"And if I don't?" The man made no move to reply, simply kept his steely gaze locked on Andy's eyes. He sighed, weeks and weeks of work. He thought about possible escape plans, but the bodyguards each drew a gun.

"I would hate for talents like yours to be wasted, for you to die with them unseen." Anger rippled through him again.

"I don't have any hard copies, it's all on the memory stick which is in my ba-" Andy froze as he searched his bag and came up with nothing. He frantically began searching every pocket, every compartment, tipping the bag out. Still, nothing. He looked up at Carlile who stood up.

"You have one hour to find that article and give it to me. I am staying in the penthouse suite at the Four Seasons. Don't keep me waiting." Andy left his apartment before they did, and rushed back to the Plaza, the $45,000 per night price tag of the suite Carlile was staying in still shocking him beyond repair. He, thankfully, found the memory stick, then thought about running, discarding the thought immediately as he knew it would be in vain.

Half an hour later he was walking up the steps to the entrance of the Four Seasons, feeling ridiculously self-conscious, and was stopped by two doormen.
"I'm sorry Sir, may we ask what your business here is?"

"I'm here to see Mr Carlile." The two looked at one another and let him in. He went to the receptionist who looked him up and down in distaste.

"I'm here to see Mr Carlile." She raised her eyebrows slightly and Andy glared at her, fighting the urge to call her a bitch.

"Is Mr Carlile expecting you?"

"He is." She phoned up to the suite and obviously spoke to one of the boyguards.

"One of his bodyguards asked me to send you up." Andy walked off before she could say anything else. He shot nasty glares at the people who practically backed away from him in the elevator and waited until it had reached the penthouse. The doors opened and Carlile's body guards immediately searched him for any weapons.

"Fourty-five minutes...not bad. Do you have it?"

"Yes. I almost didn't bring it."

"I'm glad you had the sense to. Well, are you going to stand there all night?" Andy crossed the vast space between them, trying not to stare in awe at the lavish decoration and furnishings, and the nighttime view of Manhattan surrounding them. Carlile took the stick from him and looked at him narrowly for a moment before opening his laptop and inserting it. Andy turned to leave but was instructed to sit down by the man who began reading the article in front of him. Andy felt embarrassed as he did so, and tried not to look nervous.

"You are a talented writer...it doesn't forgive what you were planning to do to me though." Andy met the other man's eyes defiantly.

"So what happens now?"