The Killing Games

by Antony J Woodward

  Chris recoiled but he didn’t say anything.

  “And then I’ll be free? You’ll fuck off and leave me alone? I do this for you, then we‘re done yes?” Chris tested.

  Sam didn’t answer immediately, instead his face puckered up tight and for a scary moment Chris worried he was going to pull the trigger and put a round in Pierre’s head. He was surprised that Sam had the audacity to hold a gun to his head at all, but like Jean said - he was a little hot headed. He was unhinged, random.

  Chris realised that his best bet of getting Pierre out of this alive was to play along. Sam obviously didn’t know that Pierre was the Jackal’s son, nor was he likely to believe him if he said so. Pierre was the hostage and the only way to release him was to fulfil his end of the deal. That meant he needed to go kill Xander.

  Or perhaps, if he was really smart, he could get Xander to kill Sam first?

  ---------------------------------------------------------

  Chris had borrowed Sam’s car, but he didn’t think he’d mind. He hoisted himself out of the gaudy sports car and crossed across the road towards the nightclub. Earlier it had been a gym, now it was a nightclub in full swing and the poorer citizens of Melun were cavorting inside. This particular district felt more like a ghetto during the night than it had earlier, amazing what the lack of light did for the place. He approached the gang members posing as bouncers, he felt a collection of eyes level on him.

  “Where’s Xander?” he enquired flatly.

  “Round the back,” was the monotone response he got.

  “I need to see him.”

  “He’s busy…”

  Chris took a deep breath, then he flung himself at the bouncer. He had his hand down the guy’s waistband, and then the gun pressed against the bouncer’s head, before anyone could react.

  “I’m seeing Xander, if any of you try to stop me I will blow a hole in his fucking head…”

  “Whoah whoah, that’s his cousin!” the fellow bouncer recoiled. There was a rush of movement from the shadowy corners of the street as the crew members came to intervene. They faltered, as if they all collectively understood that Christopher was not bluffing.

  “Even better,” Chris snarled. He pushed the bouncer through the front door and they stepped through the next door into the throng of partygoers. The neon lights shined down and the bass-line boomed around him, the music was more urban than he was used to. He didn’t recognise the rapper who was waxing lyrical over the throbbing bass.

  The bouncer led the way through the crowd, as they went they only attracted the interest of his fellow gang members. The revellers were too intoxicated and busy dancing to care that a young long haired male was marching a larger black male through the dance floor with a gun pressed to the back of his head.

  They turned off the dance floor and headed down a ramp, this turned left and the corridor they entered offered a little reprieve from the bass. They turned into the third door down, “Boss-” and suddenly they were greeted by a collection of guns.

  There was two men stood in front of a large fish tank to the right, they had guns levelled at Chris and the bouncer. To Chris’ left a blonde Caucasian woman, dressed like a hooker, dropped to the floor and whimpered for mercy. Xander was stood at his desk, his gun levelled at them both.

  “I only want to talk,” Chris stepped around the bouncer, keeping his gun jammed into the other man’s skull. “I want to talk about Samuel Le Bont, and how to fucking kill him…”

  Xander hesitated and then he slowly lowered his gun, his cronies did the same.

  Chris hadn’t noticed the third gang-member stood behind Xander, he wasn’t holding a gun.

  “You know who that is right?” Xander took a seat and made his displeasure known.

  “Your cousin, so I hear…” Chris shrugged.

  Jesus Christ! Xander was impressed by the English boy’s tenacity. He was unbelievably brave, or stupid.

  “Ok then… what you wanna say?” Xander sighed. It looked like Chris had disturbed the men as they were counting cash, stacks of notes were piled before him.

  “Samuel Le Bont has taken my boyfriend hostage,” Chris began. Xander’s face morphed briefly in disgust and he rolled his eyes.

  “And that’s my problem why?”

  “Because he wants your head in exchange for him…”

  Now he really had Xander’s attention. He slowly sat back in his chair, it creaked a little under his modest weight. “So you thought you’d storm in here, kill me and save the man you love?” Xander laughed and it made the duo on the sofa snigger.

  “No. I thought I’d come in here and ask you if you wanted help killing Samuel Le Bont…”

  Xander’s laugh trailed off, was he serious? The dark look in the long haired boy’s eyes told him so, he straightened up. “Go on…”

  “I can offer you the chance to kill Samuel Le Bont on his own turf, take him out before the fight gets ugly. Before you lose any of your men in the turf war that is about to go down…” Chris offered.

  “How do you propose we do that?”

  “You pretend to be my hostage, as soon as Pierre is clear, then I cut you loose and he’s all yours… I‘m sure you know the story about the Trojan horse…”

  “And why would I wait for that? Why shouldn‘t my boys just bounce by his place and light it up?”

  “Because I’m sure you don’t want to be involved should the Jackal’s son get killed tonight,” Chris warned gravely.

  Xander thought on it for a moment. That was a pretty grim truth. The kid looked serious, more serious than anyone he’d ever met. It was certainly an advantageous proposal, an interesting plan to propose. He glanced to his men looking at him expectantly, men who would die for him if he asked. After a further moment of quiet reflection he nodded to the men on the sofa, they stood up and went for the exit. Chris didn’t understand what was happening.

  “You can let my cousin go now, I’m interested in your plan…” Xander offered. The two men stepped outside and shut the door behind them.

  “If you want me to let him go, throw your gun away…” Chris wasn’t that easily convinced that Xander wasn’t going to shoot him.

  To his small surprise Xander did so, he threw it and it landed on the sofa. Chris waited a moment and then he let the bouncer go.

  “Leave cuz,” Xander nodded. For a moment it appeared the bouncer was going to turn back around and punch Chris square in the face, but he did as he was told. He obediently left the room, but not before giving Chris a dirty glare.

  Chris let his arms fall to his sides as he heard the door shut behind the guy he’d placed at gunpoint.

  “Ok, it’s a good plan…” this time the male who had been lingering behind Xander stepped forward. “Crazy as fuck, but I think its one hell of a plan. Exactly what he won’t expect…” He came to sit on the desk, and the entire action was so disrespectful that Chris was surprised Xander tolerated it. This new guy was skinny, sinewy and boyish looking. The baseball cap perched on his head seemed too large for his skull, as did the slack white T-shirt.

  “You want to do it?” Xander turned to the smaller guy. Hold on a second… Chris recoiled.

  “You’re the real Xander…?” Chris pointed at the skinny guy, “he’s just your fall guy, the decoy…” he pointed at the Xander he’d been talking to.

  “Correct,” the real Xander nodded. His voice was a lot deeper than Chris thought suited his small frame. Interesting.

  “Then of course, it’s a win-win situation for you. I take your fall-guy with me, he kills Sam as soon as Pierre is free and then you’ve won your little war… You get to be promoted up to the big league in the city…”

  The real Xander turned his attention to Chris sharply, how did he know about the promotion potential of the turf war? They exchanged a curious glance between one another.

  “How do we know we can trust him?” the fake-Xander pressed, “If he’s so willing to double-cross Samuel how can we be sure he won’t do the
same to us?”

  “We don’t… but I know a guy who wants out when I see one, besides fortune favours the bold,” the real-Xander confirmed. “Is that all you want, Pierre to walk free?” he turned to Chris.

  “And to be left the fuck alone, not a peep from any of you…” Chris answered.

  “I think we can do that,” the real-Xander smiled. He extended a hand, “you got yourself a deal Mr Bourgh,”

  Chris closed the distance and he took that hand, “pleasure doing business…”

  CHAPTER TWENTY:

  “You believe him over me?!” Alexis screamed in a shrill wail. She had been thrown to the floor in the dirty back room of the warehouse, and punched for good measure.

  “You conniving bitch,” Samuel had hissed in her ear shortly before he punched her again. She toppled to the ground and swallowed a mouthful of dust and dirt.

  “Babe please…”

  “Is that what you told Xander when you bounced on his dick!?” he hissed. Samuel threw himself onto his makeshift throne and tensed so hard he almost turned himself into knots. At his feet, still gagged and bound Pierre watched the fight unfold with trepid curiosity. To the side of Samuel Jean Dubois loitered. He didn’t initially understand why Samuel had so desperately summoned him, but now he was here and witness to all of this he was intrigued. Walking in and finding the Jackal’s son tied up at Sam’s feet had given him alarm, almost prompting him to tell Samuel quite who he had held hostage. Yet he hadn’t. When Samuel promised Jean would enjoy the gift Christopher Bourgh was returning with he was hooked. Samuel Le Bont had manipulated a murderer, strong-armed into a corner and this was bound to end in a beautiful disaster. It was a like a theatre show playing out before him. The screaming girlfriend was just the aperitif for the main course.

  “You wanted me to do that!” she screamed back. She clawed her way into an upright position, nursing her split lip.

  “I wanted you to get close, not fuck him…”

  “I did what you wanted! I did what you wanted!”

  “Is that why you fucked that little rat while I was away? Is that what I wanted? Did you think I didn’t hear about that…?”

  “Babe please! Christopher is lying!” she looked desperately to her violent boyfriend. She blinked pleadingly, desperately appealing to him. Pierre’s burning eyes burnt hotly into her but she managed to shut them out. “Christopher is a liar! I told you what he’s done!”

  “He’s actually never betrayed me… unlike you,” Samuel snubbed her.

  Jean bristled to himself, amused at Sam’s ignorance. Maybe this was the moment he could inform Samuel that Christopher was responsible for his brother’s death?

  “He was there when your brother died! He was fucking there Samuel! His lover pushed him, he pushed and kill-”

  “-Shut the fuck up, I told you to never speak of my brother!” Sam cut her off angrily. He almost rose from his seat, but he worried should he rise he wouldn’t be able to restrain himself from killing her.

  “It was a mistake, I was desperate. You weren’t here, you’d fucked off and I was desperate! I’ve never done it before! I promise!”

  “I’m not sure there isn’t anyone you haven’t tried to fuck… you’ve done so much fucking lying, I don’t believe you anymore…”

  “She did offer herself to me,” Jean offered simply, just to further stir the pot.

  Alexis’ face crumpled with betrayal.

  “You bastard!” she hissed venomously.

  “So it’s true…” Samuel spat in disgust, “you’re just a fucking whore…”

  Chris entered the warehouse with the fake-Xander walking with his arms bound behind him and his face covered in a black sack, the real-Xander was bringing up his flank. The deception was good, the real-Xander looked too weak and weedy to be a threat. Chris guided the blinded fake-Xander through the empty and abandoned crates, he could hear someone crying as he approached the backroom. Who was that?

  “I don’t know what I’m gonna do with you, I don’t know how I can ever make you pay for betraying me…” Samuel Le Bont was growing angrily. As Chris entered the room he saw it was Alexis he was talking to, on her hands and knees pleading for forgiveness.

  “Well you could always kneecap her, set her on fire and then piss on her,” he offered darkly. “I heard that somewhere, sounds a little poetic…” Four faces turned to face him in a split second; a pissed off Alexis, a stunned Samuel, a relieved Pierre and a surprised Jean.

  As Chris entered the room with his ‘hostage’ Sam’s face dropped low in surprise, even Pierre’s eyes widened in amazement. How had he managed to do it?

  “YOU BASTARD!” Alexis screamed hoarsely, enraged that Christopher had outdone her. The rage in her eyes was pure hatred. Samuel rose from his makeshift throne stupefied for a moment. “My word…” he whispered to himself. The boy had done it, he’d done the impossible. His gut instincts that Chris was something else was right, he was unbelievable.

  “BASTARD!” Alexis screamed again, her voice veering into psychosis. Samuel Le Bont almost jumped out of his skin which enraged him greatly so he belted her across the face to shut her up. He slowly approached Chris, then immediately lifted his gun at the weedy black male that followed. “Easy…” Chris hissed.

  “Who the fuck is this?”

  “He drove me here, he’s one of Xander’s boys…” for a second Chris wondered if Sam was going to pull that trigger, “he’s not a threat, he‘s the one you‘ll let go so he can tell all his buddies that Samuel Le Bont killed Xander…”

  Sam slowly lowered the gun, “you’ve thought of everything…”

  “Let Pierre go,” Chris ignored the compliment. He pushed the fake Xander onto his knees, took out the new high calibre handgun the rival drug-dealer had given him and placed it against the back of the decoy’s head. The gun felt heavy in his hand, it made him think of the first time he’d held a gun and meant it. How it had felt in his hand moments before he fired a round into his father’s skull. They felt too heavy to be as deadly as they really was.

  “You fucking did it?!” Sam shrieked in delight. “You brought me Xander!”

  “See your boyfriend!” he turned to Alexis and flaunted it in her face.

  He was acting like a petulant and spiteful child on Christmas morning…

  “We had a deal…” Chris reminded him.

  A movement caught his eye and he noted Jean had moved himself towards the chair. If the detective was surprised to see the events unfolding in the room he certainly didn’t show it. Slowly he sank down onto the seat. Like a King watching his consorts enact a play for his amusement.

  “The deal was you brought me his head…” Sam returned.

  “Well I did, just the rest of him is attached. And I brought him in alive, I thought you might want the pleasure of killing him yourself,” behind Chris the real-Xander fidgeted, his hands travelled slowly to the gun in his back pocket.

  “How kind!” Sam shrieked in sarcastic delight. “Look, now can’t you see how worthy I am!” he had now turned to Jean. Jean didn’t say anything, instead he bit his lip. He was quite entertained by this spectacle, but he wasn’t sure it consolidated Sam’s capabilities all that much. It seemed it was Chris actually who had done the leg-work, but then again Sam had used Pierre as the means of leverage. He glanced to the gagged and bound boy nearby, using Pierre was both his greatest, and his worst, move.

  “Let Pierre go,” Chris ordered. He didn’t have time for this bullshit, he wanted to collect Pierre and leave the rival gang-leaders to their fight. He spied the real-Xander reaching for the gun, it was too soon. A premature outbreak of a fire-fight was only going to be a disaster. He needed Pierre before anyone could open fire.

  “You can have Pierre when you fulfil your end of the deal,” Sam smirked. “I asked for him dead, not alive…”

  Chris’ face folded up in quiet anger. Was he for real? “Not got the guts to do it yourself?” he growled.

  “I’m just a stickler
for details…” Sam lifted his gun and aimed at Pierre. “You wouldn’t want me to break my end of the deal would you? Stickler for details and all that…”

  Chris’ teeth ground together, was he being for fucking real? He spotted the real-Xander halt his reach for the gun out the corner of his eye, the real-Xander’s eyes slid over to Chris. Watching to see what Chris did. Only he and Chris knew that the guy under the sack wasn’t the real Xander. Would Chris kill him? Could anyone shoot Sam before he shot Pierre? Everybody but Samuel knew that Pierre was the most important one to keep alive. Nobody wanted to be responsible, directly or not, for the boy’s death.

  Sam pulled back the hammer on the handgun.

  Chris fired, without a second thought. The gunfire erupted and deafened the room, the slug tore straight through the sack and exited out the other side. It made a solid hole in the concrete. The fake-Xander hit the deck, a neat hole through his skull.

  Jean’s face lit up, a devilish smirk drew across his face.

  “NO!” Alexis screamed in horror, her first death splattering brain matter up her face.

  “Oh shut the fuck up,” Samuel fired at her, missing by a close margin. She instantly did as she was told. Her eyes began to bulge and her breathing accelerated so much Chris was sure she was beginning to hyperventilate.

  Chris slowly slid his head back towards the real-Xander, he needed to know whether he was about to fire a slug into his back. The real-Xander was horrified, his face was distorted in an absolute horror and he slowly lifted a hand to his mouth. The reaction and expression seemed wrong, too real to be faked or played. Why was he so shocked about the death of his fall-guy? Why was the real-Xander so horrified his decoy had been spent, surely that was the point? He was the one employed to take the fall should anyone ever come after him… unless… Chris turned his gaze back to the dead body at his feet. Unless this wasn’t a fall guy, this was the real-Xander. They’d been bluffing… Bluffing their way into tricking Chris, but now it had backfired. Perhaps they had thought they could outsmart Chris, use him as the means to get to Samuel?