“Listen,” the guy said, his voice shaking. “I don’t know what he’s paying you, but I’ll double it.”
Will’s heart skipped a beat and his guilt roared in his head. “Are you trying to bribe a police officer? That’s a felony, sir.”
“Please.” The man grabbed Will’s jacket. “I’m good for it. I promise.”
James drove around the corner, stopping in front of them. The trunk popped before James climbed out, leaving the engine running. “Everything okay here?”
The man dropped his hold and stepped back, his mouth working as though he were about to yell.
Will clapped a hand on the man’s shoulder. “No problem, just a case of mistaken identity.”
James motioned to the trunk. “The damage is back here.”
The guy dragged his feet and Will had to pull him toward the back.
“I don’t see any damage.” He sounded like he was about to cry.
“It’s here,” James pointed inside the trunk.
Will shoved the man down so that his head went into the space.
“Please,” the man begged.
James lifted the guy’s legs while Will pulled his upper half. The guy barely fit when James slammed the lid closed.
Will looked at the closed lid, hearing the man’s muffled begging.
“Don’t you even think about it,” James hissed.
Will’s anger flared. “Think about what?”
“Think about letting him go. You signed up for this. Well, guess what. This is it.” James pointed at the trunk. “You’re probably wondering what they’re going to do to him once we drop him off. Wonder all you like, because after you drop him off, your job is done and soon enough, you’ll move on to the next one.”
Will rubbed his face with his hand. “He knew we were coming for him. He’s not some innocent guy. He offered to pay me double to let him go. It just proves he’s guilty.”
James shook his head. “You tell yourself that all you like and hopefully someday you’ll believe it. I take it that you know where you’re going?”
Will nodded. “Yeah.”
“Let’s go.” He turned his back. “I’ll follow you.” James disappeared around the corner again as Will climbed into the front seat.
Will pulled onto the road, James following several car lengths behind. It was only a five-minute drive to the warehouse but long enough for Will’s conscience to lodge its disapproval. He was torn between letting the guy go and handing him over. What had he been fighting for the last seven years? He’d hunted and killed men who did the same thing he was doing right now. Will had turned into a thug.
He’d already started down this path several years earlier. His history degree would get him jack shit for a job, and he’d become a trash man before joining James’s fishing-guide business. His career choices were limited. But he could make good money doing this and the reality was that the people he would be expected to deliver deserved what they got. And maybe Will had become a thug, but he’d lost his idealism years ago. The sad truth was there were no heroes in this world. It was survival of the fittest. You either hunted or were hunted. Will had no intention of being hunted.
Sure, he deserved to languish in a jail cell for the rest of his life, but by some odd twist of fate, the military saw it differently. Who was he to argue? That didn’t absolve him of his crimes. He was still a murderer. So, what better job for someone as debased as he had become?
It was a pretty speech. If only he could completely convince himself of it.
Will stopped the car in front of a slightly ajar sliding door. James pulled up behind him and stood at the back of the trunk. Will removed the keys and unlocked the trunk as the man sat up, bumping his head on the lid.
“Careful, now.” Will cooed. “We don’t want to mess up that pretty face.”
The man jumped up and tried to bolt, but Will grabbed his arm. “I’ve got kids. Please. I’ll pay you triple.”
Will froze. “How much do you think that is, exactly?”
James leaned into Will’s ear. “Don’t you even think about it.”
“I’m just weighing my options.” Will gave the guy a grin, the good in him dying with every second. He could feel himself slipping away and he gladly let it. He was no longer that man.
The man became frantic. “What’s he paying? Two hundred? Five hundred?”
“You must have been a very naughty boy.” Will laughed as he and James pulled him toward the doors. “He’s paying me more than that.”
James’s eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly hid it.
They led the guy into the warehouse. Will was amazed the guy didn’t fight more. But then maybe he knew he’d never get away.
A man met them inside, his gaze landing on Will.
“He’s my business associate,” James said.
The guard turned without a word and walked down a row of shelves toward the back of the warehouse. The back corner glowed with light. The closer they got, the more agitated the man became. Will and James had to hold his arms and drag him.
Guilt twisted in Will’s chest, catching his breath. Who was he to be judge and jury for this guy? But he wasn’t. He was merely delivering the guy to someone else. It wasn’t Will’s job to protect everyone in the world. He’d tried that, and look at where that had got him.
When they reached the end of the row, they turned the corner to find a man sitting in a chair. He wore an expensive dark gray suit and dark hair slicked back into a ponytail. He looked to Will like somebody who had watched too many episodes of The Sopranos. His hands were folded under his chin. Will expected him to talk as though his throat was full of gravel. Instead, he sounded nasally. “You brought a friend.”
“These aren’t my friends.” The man between them shouted.
The guy in the chair laughed. “Not you.” His eyes pierced Will. “You.”
“He’s my associate.” James said. “He offered to help me tonight.”
Mr. Sopranos shifted his attention to James. “You know I don’t like surprises.”
“Yeah, and neither do I, but this hardly seems the time to discuss this.”
The man laughed. “Very true. If you’ll kindly wait outside, we can discuss it out there.”
James looked at Will, and shifted his eyes to the entrance as he moved toward the door. When they were outside, James paced next to his car. “You were smart to wear gloves handling his keys.”
“I’m not a total idiot.”
James paused to look at Will and roll his eyes. “That remains to be seen.” He resumed his pacing. “When that guy comes out here, he’s liable to offer you a job. What are you going to do?”
Will laughed. “I’m going to turn it down.”
James stopped and released his breath. “Thank God.”
“Shit, I’m not working for this guy. I’ll work freelance. I suspect there’s more money and I hope to hell I can work in a warmer climate.”
“Are you a fucking idiot?”
“No, I’m smart. You yourself said that I’d spent my entire life training to be a soldier. I’m more than qualified to do this.”
“This is not being a soldier. And this is not about being qualified. This is being a criminal. Worse than that. It’s being a lackey for a criminal. Besides, you got lucky tonight.”
“Maybe, maybe not, but I’ve learned things the last four years that could be very beneficial to this line of work.”
“And what might those be?” Mr. Sopranos appeared in the doorway and walked toward them.
Will had seen men like him in Iraq. Cocky assholes that thought they owned entire towns. And they did. Until Will and his men came in and stole their power. This man might frighten James, but he didn’t scare Will. But then again, Will had nothing to fear but the nightmares in his head. “I have a special skill set, seeking out intelligence and apprehending high-ranking terrorists.” Will gave him a cocky grin. “I’m ruthless.”
The man glanced from James back to Will. “S
ince Buckner’s taken his leave of absence, I’ve had a hard time finding a replacement for him. I’d like to bring you onto my team. After a background check. Of course.”
Will shrugged. “And while I thank you for your offer, I’m going to have to pass.”
James swore under his breath.
The man laughed for several seconds. “You’re arrogant.” He studied Will. “I like it.”
“I’m still not available as your staff employee. However, I am available for freelance work.”
The man laughed again. “Most men shake in their shoes in my presence. You’re not afraid of me?”
Will wanted to laugh. This guy was a joke. “I’ve faced worse men than you.”
“Do you think so? I once had a man’s tongue cut out. Are you frightened now?”
“Should I be?”
The man shook his head with a grin. “Deal. I’ll accept your generous offer.”
Will winked. “There’s nothing generous about it. You’ll pay me well.”
The man glanced at James. “You said he’s your friend?”
Cringing, James nodded.
“I like him.”
Reassured, James squared his shoulders. “I want out. I don’t want you calling me again.”
The man nodded. “I’m good with that. But I’ll need your friend’s contact information.” He tilted his head toward Will. “Mr…?”
“Smith. You can call me Mr. Smith.”
The man laughed. “Well, Mr. Smith. I’ll need a way to contact you.”
“You can e-mail me at the address I provided this afternoon.”
The man put his hands on his hips. “I look forward to working with you again.”
Working with this man was the last thing Will wanted to do, but his empty wallet said otherwise. “Likewise.”
Will moved to into James’s car, wondering if he’d just lost the last decent part of him.
The screams coming from the warehouse told him he had.
***
Homecoming is the third short story in The Chosen Short series, the prequels to Chosen. The first two are Emergence and Middle Ground.
About the Author
Denise lives in Lee's Summit, Missouri. She has six children, three dogs, and an overactive imagination. She can be found dancing in her kitchen with her children, reading or writing her next book. You will rarely find her cleaning. After living in the South for seven years, her biggest disappointment was her lack of an acquired Southern accent.
You can find out more about Denise at http://www.denisegroverswank.com/or email her at [email protected] Be sure to sign up for newsletter on her website to find out her newest releases.
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