Tom Symcox was anything but ordinary, as his first name suggested. On the contrary; he was rather complex. His friends were as crazy as he was, and they all got along quite well. He had met and joined a great group at Yale. As a double major, he hadn't had a lot of time in school to hang out, but after he graduated, his friends become almost as important as his work for the Fortune 500 company. Some of his friends wondered how he had managed to get a business job when he had majored in psych and philosophy; he credited the name of his college. Although he didn't specialize in anything business-y, he definitely knew enough about it to work in that area.
As an athlete, Tom had played every sport there was to play. His favorite was rugby, but basketball was a close second. At Yale, he had joined the basketball team and pulled them through an entire championship his senior year. As much as he loved sports, though, he was more serious about his career, and so opted to get a 'real' job rather than try to join an NBA team. Though he was good at ball, he wasn't that good, and he didn't mind giving up a kindergarten dream to pursue a more realistic future in the neck-and-neck, dog-eat-dog business world.
That was one of the reasons he owed money to the Falcon. Tom's family wasn't well off, and his parent's couldn't afford to rent an apartment for him near Yale. He had met the right people freshman year, taken a couple trips to New York, gotten in a little deep, and continued digging. They had introduced him to the world of lenders, and after he had graduated (with the Falcon's aid, of course), he had moved to New York City itself. There he rented a flat and started applying for jobs. He had spent nearly a year unemployed, all the while borrowing money from the Falcon to keep his ritzy apartment.
After a long year, Tom was offered a job--a good one, too. He had accepted it on the spot, started a week later, and within a few months had enough money to support himself again. Within another year, he had enough money to pay the Falcon back and keep himself well above the poverty line. He moved out of his apartment and into an even bigger, nicer flat.
But he never paid the Falcon back.
This was how Tom's mind worked: Either they will forget, or I will take them on. I can pay them back, but I would rather not, and outsmarting these people is more fun than I've had in years.
Then one of Tom's best friends died.
Correction: one of Tom's best friends was murdered.
Tom had gone to school with Richard Vann. He had taken half of his classes with Vann; they were both philosophy majors. Vann's sudden murder was a shock to everyone who knew him. He was found in an alley, face forward, a bullet in his brain. Whoever had killed him had been clean and quick. Most thought that it was petty theft that had left Vann dead in the street. Tom knew better.
Vann had borrowed from the Falcon as well. Like most college students, Vann had struggled to find enough financial aid to get through college. He had been with Tom when they visited New York years before. He had met the proprietor of the Falcon; he had walked away with enough money to keep him in ramen for years, just as Tom had.
The Falcon had sent someone after Vann.This confirmed Tom's fears; someone was, indeed, following him. Though he hadn't been back to the Falcon since the day he borrowed money, he walked past the up-town club every week. He saw the people walking in and out of the building.
Most importantly, he had seen the girl with the briefcase. The same night that Vann was murdered, he had seen the sunglass-clad girl leave the club, and he had followed her. He had seen the man sneak out of her apartment, and he knew that she was important.
He knew that she was dangerous.
