by Caleb Meeks
He chuckled, “Well, there’s only so much history you can study without wanting to make some of your own. I’ve heard you were a bit of a scholastic kid yourself, so I could ask you the same thing.”
“I suppose I could give you a similar answer. Only so much you can study without wanting to get out into the real world and…experience it for yourself.”
“Guess we are more similar than I had originally thought. Bad guys like us have to stick together, right?” He flashed that unimpressive, pretty boy smile again.
“What is it that I can do for you, Mr. Jackson?” I asked, disregarding his previous attempt at congruence.
“Please Jude, Mr. Jackson is my father, call me Jackson. May I call you Jude?”
I sat back in the rickety chair and crossed my arms as non-threateningly as possible. “No, I’d rather you didn’t, Jackson.”
“Very well, my apologies Judas.”
“Jackson, I hate to be this way, but I am a very busy man. What is it that was so important to meet with me about?” I pushed.
“Of course, I have a tendency to get distracted and ramble. I would like to join forces, in simplest terms.”
“In simplest terms? And in most complex terms?” I asked, the reality was I could sit and talk to this man all day if I pleased, I just didn’t want to.
“This…criminal industry, as you called it, is very complex. Lots of moving parts. This crew, that crew, this deal, that drop. Very complicated, and it gets even more complicated when all these moving parts are moving in opposite directions. I would like to join forces with you, get our moving parts moving in the same direction.”
“An honorable proposition. Not to be condescending Jackson, but I can’t honestly say I’m too familiar with your…moving parts.”
He looked insulted, though slightly unsurprised. “Well, perhaps you just haven’t looked close enough?”
I smiled, knowing that wasn’t the case. “Perhaps. Forgive me for any ignorance.”
“Of course.” He said, proud of himself. His pride was both sickening and delicious. Such a valuable weakness.
“Now, about this congruence, as you called it.”
“Yes, I would love to work with you. Discuss movements, plans. Be a single moving part, together.”
I smiled, widening my eyes in surprise. “Together, like equals?”
He nodded his head, “Exactly, equals. Peers.”
I chuckled slightly, “Jackson, I’m sorry, but I don’t consider many people to be my equal. Especially in this business. Even the man you spoke to may have seemed to be an equal to me, he is not. He works under me. That’s how I do congruences.”
“Yes, well that’s what I anticipated you saying. Fortunately, I had other plans arranged.” He gave me a twisted smile and leaned back as the sound of car doors slamming rung through the building.
I gave him a smile back.
Chapter four.
“Surprise.” Jackson said, a toothy grin plastered on his face.
I smiled, chuckling and looking down at the ground. I pulled the sunglasses from my face and hung them on the front of my shirt. “Jackson, please. You actually thought that you could trick one of the most powerful men in the world like this? How ignorant do you think I am?” I said, an even bigger smile on face. Jackson’s wide-eyed smile dwindled, becoming more of a deliciously shocked stupor. “You thought you could just have me drive out to the middle of nowhere at three o’clock in the morning, then walk me into a dusty room in a building that’s practically falling apart, unaccompanied by any kind of security detail, and just assume I wouldn’t think anything was going on?” The muscles in his neck tensed, and more beads of sweat trailed down his forehead. “No one, and I mean no one, would have the guts to even think up something like that. And if I’m being perfectly honest, I am very familiar with your moving parts. You’re a simple assassin. I recognized you the second you got out of your car. I’m very familiar with your work, just not for the reasons you’d want me to. I must ask, though, what drives a lackey assassin like you to try and make a move on someone like me?”
I could see him try and swallow the knot in his throat in an attempt to regain his dauntless stature. “You’ve got a pretty penny on your head.”
I laughed, causing a slight jerk reaction in him. “I always have a pretty penny on my head. I run an empire in a business fueled by pride and power, and being a man with a fair bit of both power and pride, I have a tendency to make people angry. Did you do your research, though? Look into all the crews that have tried to take me out?” He stared blankly at me, trying not to quake out of his chair. I could hear the footsteps of the men he called outside. “Dozens upon dozens, at least. Most of them don’t even make it to me, so that’s something you can take pride in. Granted, you didn’t really make it to me, I came to you, so that’s not really a success on your end.” I stood up and walked around behind him, gripping his shoulders. The muscles immediately tensed. “Just so you know, because I know it’s all you can think about, I am not going to kill you. Your crew…well…I make no promises for them, they’re the ones who are actually going to pull the trigger at me. I know for a fact you don’t have the guts to pull the trigger of the gun you’ve had pointed at me under the table this whole time, otherwise you would have already. I’m not even going to really hurt you, that bad at least.” I lifted my hands from his shoulders and gripped the base of his neck, “Talk to you later, Jackson.” He inhaled to speak, but I slammed his face down on the table in front of him, halting any further speech. “Hey boys,” I yelled loud enough so that his crew would hear me, “your boss is in here.”
I pulled the gun from the holster in my side and cocked it. There were two options to get out, either I could walk out the door Jackson escorted me in, and make my way through his crew that way, or I could use the little hole in the wall. The little hole in the wall seemed more creative. I walked over to it and kicked the weak rubble, just enough to make it a little wider and easier to slip out of. It opened out to the side of the building completely opposite to my car. I walked alongside the back of the building until I reached the corner. Peaking around the edge revealed two new black cars beside mine and Jackson’s. Who did this guy think he was? I thought to myself. The cars seemed empty, so that meant there were at most ten people throughout the complex. Child’s play.
I walked out into the open and started walking towards my car. “There he is!” I heard a man to my left yell. My head immediately snapped towards where the voice came from, and I saw a big, bald man, holding a submachine gun, pointing to me. He raised his weapon, however, I raised mine faster and released a single bullet, which immediately imbedded itself into the man’s shoulder and knocked him over. I continued walking towards my car, but another man ran out of the building I had just exited. I quickly raised my gun again and pulled the trigger, landing a bullet in the man’s sternum. He dropped to the ground with a quiet thud. I continued past my car into the building opposite the one the two men had come from, and ducked behind a window.
I could hear the men around me scattering in a panic. From the sound of it, only one man was in this building with me, and he was making his way towards me. He rounded the corner next to me and I tackled him, pinning the hand with the gun to the ground with one arm and covering his mouth with my other hand. “Look,” I said, his eyes practically bulging out of his head, “I won’t kill you if you keep your mouth shut. How many of you are there?” I lifted my hand slightly from his mouth.
His breathing intensified, “Eight, there’s eight of us.”
“Great.” I lifted my closed fist, and beat him across the face. He’d be out for a few minutes, more than enough time to finish and get out.
Three out of eight down. I thought to myself. I lifted my head over the ledge of the window I was ducking beneath. Four of the remaining men were scattered throughout the gap between the two buildings, intermittent with the cars. They were all on high alert, I could see their eyes darting back and forth
across the lot. I stood up, looking for a little fun, and announced my location to the four of them. They all immediately turned to me, and followed through with a stream of gunfire. Before retreating, I shot one bullet and landed it in one of the closest men’s chests, then turned around and walked towards the stairs to the second floor. A stray bullet flew into the wall directly next to me.
Once there, I peeked my head out the window and saw the men still slowly approaching the building with their weapons at the ready. I pointed my gun out the window and shot two consecutive bullets, one striking the man in the far back just above his pectoral muscle, and the other striking the man just in front him in the stomach. Both men hit the ground simultaneously. The last of the four men ran inside the building. I holstered my gun, knowing the close quarters of the building wasn’t the right place for a gun. I could hear him breathing heavily as he made his way up the stairs. “Trying to play cool guy? The savior, maybe?” I said. “You want to be the one who goes back having killed the infamous Judas, even though you were just supposed to be the backup. It’s noble, even coming from the man you’re trying to kill. A bit prideful, though. You and I both know exactly how this is going to end.” I heard him reach the top of the stairs, but that’s where he made his grand mistake. He slowly turned the corner, giving me a window of opportunity where only his gun and hands were visible to me, but I was not visible to him. I quickly reached out and grabbed the gun out of his surprisingly weak grip, and threw it to the ground behind me. While I pulled the gun, though, I pulled him forward too, which gave me an opportunity to throw my other hand around his throat. I backed him out of the room and into the wall at the top of the stairs. I threw him down the stairs, and he landed near the other man I had just dealt with.
Seven out of eight down. I wiped the sweat from my forehead and the back of my neck and walked out the front door. I was now standing in the middle land strip between the two buildings that the cars were in. The bodies of the three men were slumped around me. “Where are you?” I called out, not expecting a response, just to scare him a little.
From behind me, the last man jumped out and landed on top of me, toppling both of us to the ground. The weight of the man on top of me pinned my arms to my sides, which meant there was no way I could get my gun. I noticed the man’s left hand was holding a large army knife. His eyes, which were locked on mine, were filled with an intense combination of rage and lunacy the other men didn’t have. I guess the experience of knowing you are about to die releases a level of adrenaline your body doesn’t know what to do with. He lifted the hand with the knife in the air in preparation to bring it down on me, which meant I had a couple seconds to decide how to handle it. He had a gun holstered on his hip, which was my best bet at the moment. The hand with the knife fell down and I caught it to soften the speed and readjust it. I let his arm go before he could build up too much force against mine, and then let the hand fall. The knife sliced through my shirt on my left side, and splayed the skin near my ribs. It wasn’t serious, but big enough to need stiches. Something to worry about later. I winced from the blow, but quickly re-focused myself. I could think about that later. The second the knife went through my skin and into the ground, I reached under his arm and pulled the gun from its holster. Fortunately, it was already cocked. An imbecilic move, but it made my job easier. I quickly placed the gun at his side, while the reality of the situation settled into his eyes, and pulled the trigger twice. He immediately collapsed on top of me, the crushing weight pinning me to the ground momentarily. I eventually found the strength to push the man off of me, and made my way to my feet. I bent over and dug into the man’s pockets, pulling out his phone. His phone had a fingerprint scanner, so I bent over and grabbed his finger, using it to unlock the phone. It opened within a few seconds of trying. I opened the dial pad, and punched in 9-1-1.
“Hello, what is your emergency?” The woman at the station answered.
“There is a very large crime scene at the old sectioned off power plant just off of Jefferson street. Some kind of drug deal gone wrong or something. You want to get down here right away, otherwise you might regret it.” I clicked the button to hang up before she could say anything else, dropped the phone back on the big guy’s chest and made my way to my car. I pulled the keys from my pocket, unlocked the car, and stepped in. I was immediately reminded of the fresh slit in my side, but had to shrug off the pain, so I could focus on the task at hand.
The car came to life, and I quickly got on the road. The police would likely be arriving very quickly, and I needed to not be anywhere around when they did. Hopefully they’d arrive before that little worm, Jackson, wakes up.
I traveled down the road amidst the other early morning drivers. There weren’t many, but it was enough to make me seem inconspicuous. About fifteen minutes later, I saw the red and blue lights blinking in the distance, and knew I got out in just enough time.
The destination I chose was fortunately not far away, only about forty minutes from the site I was at. I wouldn’t have been able to make it back to my house with the condition of the slit in my side, which was now oozing blood through the hand I had placed on it. Like I said, it wasn’t serious, but needed some attention to not become serious. The sun was just beginning to crest. Some people’s days were just beginning, some were just ending, but mine was somewhere in the middle. Being one of the bad guys has that effect, I suppose.
I pulled into Dominic’s driveway about thirty minutes later. The unfortunate thing about Dominic’s house and mine is that he chose a much more…suburban lifestyle. That meant that I couldn’t just climb out of the car and walk right up to the door dripping blood across his driveway. While I was unaware of exact rules against it, it seemed like something the HOA would take issue with. Fortunately, it was so early there wasn’t much traffic on his street. I slowly stepped out of the car, making sure to glance around me before completely revealing myself. Once I decided it was clear enough, I walked towards the door.
I knocked three times. He was assuredly awake, but whether he would notice me was the question. He quickly came to the door and threw it open, a wide eyed confused look on his face. “What are you doing here Judas?”
I subtly opened my jacket to reveal the oozing slit and blood-spattered shirt. “Meeting didn’t go quite as planned.”
His expression quickly changed from confusion to concern. “Get in here.” He said, trying not to draw too much attention. He quickly peeked his head out the door to make sure no one was around, then shut it behind us. He wedged himself under my right shoulder and put his right arm around my waist to help keep me upright. “What happened in there?” He walked me into the kitchen and set me against his kitchen table, so I could stabilize myself while he made sure all his blinds were closed.
I laughed. “Jackson.”
“I can’t believe I didn’t know it was him. Still, can’t believe he did this to you. Must be losing your game.” A smile spread across his face while he scrambled around his kitchen gathering a few supplies.
“Not him. One of the guys he hired to kill me.”
Dominic laughed. “He hired a crew to kill you? The assassin hired assassins?”
“Coming from him, it didn’t really surprise me.”
“Very true.” He walked over to me, holding a couple towels, a container of water, and a few other medical supplies. “Still, I’m sorry I didn’t catch on when he called. I guess you really should have let me come.”
“Oh please, Dominic, it’s not like anything happened.” He looked up from the cloth he was soaking in water with a shocked and confused look on his face. He raised a finger and gestured to the dripping wound. “This? This is nothing but a little fun.”
Dominic laughed. “You are the only one who looks at a laceration like that as a little fun.”
I shrugged my shoulders, “You’ve known me for a while, it shouldn’t surprise you.”
“Judas, I’ve patched you up more times than I count. It doesn’t surpris
e me, it just amazes me that you don’t get tired of bleeding all the time.”
“You get used to it after a while. Speaking of bleeding all the time, are you going to do something about this?” I said. Dominic laughed.
“Maybe not if you talk to me like that.” He looked up with a smile, but noticed the unimpressed look on my face. “Yeah, sorry, too much. Take off your shirt so I can actually get a good look at this thing.”
I dropped the jacket from my shoulders on the ground, then slowly peeled the black shirt from my skin. The fabric around the wound had practically fused to the edges of the laceration, so peeling it off removed any of the clotting it had managed to do. Fortunately, Dominic had seen far worse on me and never reacted, so this was nothing.
“So, what did you do with the assassins the assassin hired?” Dominic asked. He took the cloth he had been soaking and started wiping off the dried blood from all around the wound.
“I handled them.”
Dominic nodded. “Of course you did. How many died?”
“There were nine in total, including Jackson. I didn’t actually kill any of them. Intentionally, that is. Whether or not they died as a byproduct of what happened is entirely another issue, and not my problem.”
“Wow, getting soft, are you?” Dominic joked.
“I guess so.” He slid the cloth along the opening of the wound and I winced.
“Yeah, this is really going to hurt, but you need to not move.” He said. There weren’t many people I listened to in this world, but he was one of them.
He made quick, albeit painful, work of the wound. He cleaned it, did his best to slow the bleeding as best as possible, then stitched it heavily. It wasn’t particularly deep, but where it was on my body bled easily, so he stressed the importance of getting it properly done.
He walked over and slung my arm over his shoulder and gripped my waist again. “I’m putting you in the bathroom, then I’ll get you some clothes so you can at least get out of the bloody pants you’re in.” He leaned me against the counter in the bathroom, then told me to wait while he went and grabbed a few things. It wasn’t the first time I’d had to come to him to patch a wound, and he’d gotten into the habit of keeping the clothes I’d bled all over, washing them, and then holding onto them for the next time I’d need it. He returned quickly and set the pile of clothes down. “Be careful. I don’t want you popping any of those stitches putting pants on, ok?” I nodded. He walked back around the corner, probably to address the bloody mess his kitchen had become.