Sephora unbuttoned his sleeves, tirelessly glancing at himself through the rear view mirror. He didn’t look his age anymore. “There are no good men.”
“Huh?” Gilroy finally turned to look at his late superior's son. Sephora looked nothing of the like. Darker features. Darker complexion. Gilroy even questioned for a moment upon meeting him if it actually was his kid.
“Good men don’t exist. Never did. Never will.” In a subtle way, Gilroy shrugged. “There are only two type of men in this world. Bad men, and bad men who want to do good.” Sephora pressed the back of his head to the seat. “Which are you?”
“Well, I would hope the latter.” His statement made Sephora’s brows raise. The two sat in the car in silence for a few more moments.
Gilroy tugged a small remote from his suit jacket. His buffed finger smoothed across the short trigger, allowing Sephora to step out of the car, with a briefcase at hand.
The moment Sephora reached the third step to the entrance, Gilroy’s finger came down on the button. Not even a millisecond later the west wing exploded.