You Only Live Once
Page 26
The drug lord seemed pleased to see him. “Well, look who it is! What a small world we live in.”
Sancho tried to get around him but Goolardo grabbed him by the front of his shirt.
“Where are you going? Don’t be rude.” He looked at the little boy. “Is this little one yours?”
“No.”
The two dangerous men with Goolardo held one of Flynn’s Hot Dog on a Stick co-workers. Sancho didn’t know her name, but he remembered how she talked to Flynn. How she treated him with disrespect and looked at him with contempt. Her Hot Dog on a Stick hat sat crooked atop her shoulder-length blonde hair, her pretty face messy with melted mascara and tears.
Mendoza arrived and took Sancho by the arm. His huge hand encircled Sancho’s bicep easily.
“Sancho, isn’t it? Isn’t that your name?” Goolardo asked.
“Yeah.”
“Mr. Flynn’s Sancho Panza. How very fitting. I’m assuming you visited him today. Not the same man he used to be, is he? Now that he’s medicated, he’s not nearly as impressive. It’s unfortunate really. I miss the old Flynn. He was a worthy opponent. Now he’s just fat, frightened, and stupid like most Americans.”
“Let the boy go. He has nothing to do with this.”
“No. No one goes. Not the boy. Not the girl. Not you. Not even Santa. Not until I find Mr. Flynn. Do you know where he’s hiding?”
“No.”
“It’s fitting is it not, that this all ends in a place like this? This palace of conspicuous consumption. I imagine it was once awe-inspiring. Sometime in the ’80s perhaps. But now, like America itself, it is in decline. These stores packed with useless merda that no one needs or even wants until they are brainwashed into believing that without this or that they are worth nothing. I sold a product people did desire. One that required no advertising at all. The demand was there, and I filled it and made billions and they sent me to prison for not playing by the rules put in place by your rapacious government.
“I was punished for not lining the pockets of your politicians. Your leaders have always been greedy, but now the unwashed and ignorant have elected leaders just as ignorant as they are. The stupid leading the stupid. Poetic justice I would say. The American experiment will collapse in chaos. I tried to hasten the inevitable with the plan your friend foiled, but it will happen even without my help. And very, very soon.”
Goolardo fired his gun in the air. Sancho and the girl flinched. The boy wailed. Goolardo raised his voice until it echoed throughout the cavernous mall. “Mr. Flynn! I know you’re hiding here somewhere. And I know you can hear me. I have your friend, Sancho, and the pretty blonde girl who works with you. Becky.” He held up her name tag. “If you don’t want them to die, then I need to see you. We need to talk. We need to finish this. Do not prolong your pain. I can see how unhappy you are. They have filled your brain with chemicals and turned you into one of them. A worker bee. A fat, stupid drone, laboring to make the rich richer. Come! Let me help you. Let me put you out of your misery!”
When no one answered back, Goolardo struck Becky in the forehead with the butt of his pistol. She would have collapsed without the support of the two dangerous men. The cut he opened on her once flawless forehead bled heavily.
“Don’t make me beat this beauty into something ugly. There is no escape for you. You know that. In the end, you will die for what you did to me. There’s no reason to take these innocents with you.”
“Let the girl go!” An elderly security guard with an Armenian accent held a trembling gun on Goolardo. Mendoza and the two dangerous men swung their weapons in the direction of the lone security guard. Yet, he kept coming. “Put the guns down!” he ordered.
Goolardo laughed. “I applaud your bravery, sir, but I believe you are outgunned.” Goolardo put his pistol to Becky’s head. “Continue to point that weapon at me and I promise this young woman will die. As will this young man and this innocent little boy. I might even shoot Santa just for good measure.”
“Put the guns down!” The security guard repeated, his voice shaky.
Goolardo looked at the girl. “Tell that old fool to put his gun away before he gets you killed.”
“Please, Mr. Papazian, do what he says. I think he really means it.”
“SWAT is on the way.” Papazian blinked away sweat burning his eyes. “You might as well surrender because there is no way you’re getting out of here.”
An angry Goolardo turned his weapon on Papazian. “There’s a fine line between bravery and stupidity and I think you just crossed it.”
Goolardo fired, hitting Papazian in his left shoulder, spinning him sideways. Goolardo fired again and that bullet caught the guard in the arm. Papazian fell. His gun clattered across the floor. He tried to crawl for it. Goolardo fired once more, catching him in the side. Papazian winced, yet he continued to crawl. Goolardo laughed and crossed over to the old Armenian. Papazian’s breathing grew ragged and labored. Blood smeared the floor as he doggedly crept forward, straining to reach his revolver.
“It’s important to be persistent, but now you’re just being ridiculous.” Goolardo aimed at Papazian’s head.
“I believe you’re looking for me!”
Sancho recognized his old friend’s voice. Not the new heavily medicated version with the high-pitched, mealy-mouthed American accent, but the old Flynn, the masterful one, with the deep voice and the British accent with just touch of Scottish burr. He was above on the second floor, looking down over the railing at the tableau below. He was dressed in black from head to toe and held the biggest orange, white, and blue Super Soaker Sancho had ever seen…
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About the Author
Haris Orkin is a playwright, screenwriter, game writer, and novelist. His play, Dada was produced at The American Stage and the La Jolla Playhouse. Sex, Impotence, and International Terrorism was chosen as a critic’s choice by the L.A. Weekly and sold as a film script to MGM/UA. Save the Dog was produced as a Disney Sunday Night movie. His original screenplay, A Saintly Switch, was directed by Peter Bogdanovich and starred David Alan Grier and Viveca Fox.
He is a WGA Award and BAFTA Award nominated game writer and narrative designer known for Command and Conquer: Red Alert 3, Call of Juarez: Gunslinger, Tom Clancy’s The Division, Mafia 3, and Dying Light, which to date has sold over 7.5 million copies.
Haris has contributed chapters to two books put out by the International Game Developers Association; Writing for Video Game Genres and Professional Techniques for Video Game Writing.
www.harisorkin.com
https://twitter.com/HarisOrkin
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