Marcus was an odd man. He gave me the impression that he had never taken anything seriously in his life. He prattled on and on about pastries and tea and his appreciation of good food and drink. I did my best to be patient and show an interested expression. I nodded along as he spoke and smiled politely.
“What is your favorite wine?”
I raised my hand in negation.
“Honestly, I’m not much of a drinker.”
He smiled and raised a finger as if he was giving me life advice.
“There is always time to start.”
With a wave of his hand, he beckoned to the attractive waitress who came to our table immediately.
The women in Anarchy city sure were a level above anything available for rats like me to look at in Grey Rock city. The sway of the waitress’s hips. The way her skin was so clean and blemish-free. Her fashionable hairstyle. Each facet of the pretty young thing had me admiring her.
Marcus’s raised eyebrow, the attractive waitress’s ashamed blush, and lowered head as she left with the wine order were what tipped me off that my… appreciation of the girl had been at least a little too obvious. I cleared my throat and spoke.
“Maybe we could move on to business. I'm not much of a talker and I wouldn't want to waste your precious time.”
What the hell was wrong with me? Ever since I had come to this city my attention always seemed to be glued to the most attractive woman in the vicinity. Sure, the “level” of the women in Anarchy city left the options available back home seemingly like dung in comparison, but I thought myself at least a mostly in control man. I don’t remember ever leering like I had been doing recently. It was almost as if I was a starving man surrounded by sumptuous delicacies, barely able to control myself.
Was it my new found confidence in my appearance? Was I getting arrogant?
Thankfully a knowing grin was the only other response from Markus before he generously allowed the awkward situation to pass.
“Sure, the young do have so little patience. You have so much life ahead of you, but always seem so set on rushing through it. I guess you can only appreciate the slow moments through the filter of age.”
These talks were beginning to weigh on me. They were nothing like any negotiation I’ve had back home. Usually, two disgusting and dirty men would meet in a dirty back ally or bar, while trying to make sure to keep their backs to a wall for fear of being jumped from behind.
Lots of words like, “fuck you” and “suck my dick” would be passed around as both parties tried to screw the other over as much as possible or be screwed as little as possible using bluffs, scare tactics, menacing looks and a variety of other base methods before finally passing the goods across. Of course, while making sure to monitor each-others hands for hidden blades.
As down and dirty as it was, it was what I knew. This… cultured and civilized way of doing things felt off. I didn’t care about this man's preferences in food or drink. It all seemed so contrived.
“I was informed by our mutual acquaintance that this was to be a retrieval. Human cargo to be specific. Am I right?”
“Yes.”
The fact my mother was referred to as cargo nearly set me off. I kept a level gaze and didn’t show it, however. The more he knew about my deep attachment to this “cargo”, the more he would charge.
“Are there any special requirements for delivery?”
I nodded.
“I want the cargo retrieved before the end of the month. I would also like to accompany the cargo to assure proper treatment. I will require a fresh identity that can’t be traced to me here in Anarchy city. Those that are brought back can’t be traced here as well.”
He pursed his lips and stroked his jawline.
“You want to accompany the shipment? That’s highly unusual.”
I shrugged.
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
“But it shouldn’t be an issue. I hope you don’t expect 5-star treatment along the way. Your assumed identity may require some… effort on your part. Though, as a pilot, it wouldn't be too different than the work expected from you already.”
Had Jarrod told the man my background, or at least the little I had told him? Maybe. Or maybe he was just doing his due diligence. It shouldn't surprise me that Markus had investigated me well in advance of meeting with me. If he hadn't, I wouldn't feel comfortable handing this work to him.
“The time limit is an issue. Less than a month. Hmm. We will need to move quickly. Quick is dangerous. Dangerous is expensive. You understand, no?”
“I do. Within reason.”
“Where?”
“Grey Rock city. The slums.”
“How many?”
It took me a second to think about how to answer.
“At least one guaranteed. At most, 7.”
Markus raised another questioning eyebrow.
“I’m leaving the choice to them. They can stay if they want. But one of them is coming along no matter what.”
Markus huffed an incredulous breath.
“A choice between the slums of Grey Rock city, or life in Anarchy City. Only a fool would choose the former. So seven it is. Hmm? You don’t agree?”
“Sometimes people become attached to the life they have. Even a pile of garbage can evoke fond emotions if every memory they have involves that pile of garbage. Sometimes people are just afraid of change.”
Markus smiled widely.
“You know, Caleb, for a former rat, you are pretty intelligent.”
I didn’t show any surprise at his marking me as a former Rat. It shouldn't surprise me. I'm sure between his investigations and the no doubt half dozen tells I revealed during this meeting, it wouldn't be hard to figure out.
“Thank you.”
Markus then closed his eyes and seemed to slip into deep thought while he stroked his chin, a self-soothing gesture that seemed a mainstay of his while in thought.
“It’s do-able. Let's see here.”
After a while, he spoke, opened his eyes and pulled out a compact tablet. After a half-minute of typing and swiping, he looked across the table and smiled.
“I like you, Caleb. So I’ll give you a deal.”
I’d heard that phrase before. Usually before someone tried bending me over and having their way with me… metaphorically that is.
He held up two fingers. It took me a moment to realize he didn’t mean two thousand. Twenty thousand. Christ, it was nearly my whole purse.
“I believe Jarod would have told you I don’t negotiate on price. Twenty, or I walk. Business is business.”
I swallowed my words and nodded. Even if it was only for the peace of mind knowing my mother would be transported by the best, it was worth it. There wasn’t a price too high to pay for her safety.
Just then the waitress returned with the wine Markus had ordered. She set the wine down and apologized for the wait. She offered to pour our wine, but Markus declined. As Markus popped the cork on the wine and began pouring a glass for each of us, I watched the ample rear end of the waitress as she left. She must have felt my gaze, as she used the tray she brought our wine and food on to cover her rear.
I looked away from her retreating figure with a little shame to find Markus smiling at me knowingly. He offered me a glass of wine which I accepted and raised his glass.
“To youth! Oh, how I miss it.”
I lightly struck my glass against his and added. “And to a deal struck.”
“Well said!”
I drank my wine in silence and thought about all the money I had just agreed to spend. Markus drank and ate merrily and returned to his earlier inane chatter. After another 10, maybe 15 minutes. He stood and addressed me with an outstretched hand.
“It was truly a pleasure Caleb. I hope we meet again.”
His phrasing confused me. As I shook his hand the large bodyguard stood and approached the table.
“This is Jamal. He will be acting as my agent on this task. Listen to his arrangements. He speaks for me. I trust him with my life and know of no better man to put in charge of this assignment.”
Before I could make heads or tails of the situation, Markus had walked to the door, which was opened from the outside by what seemed to be another bodyguard, and he was gone. I was left staring at a closed door for a few moments before I looked to my new acquaintance questioningly. His voice was like deep resounding and low thunder as he answered my unspoken question with another mocking question.
“Did you think he would be handling this personally? For twenty thousand? Dream on kid. Add a zero and maybe… maybe.”
He must have seen my disappointment and disagreement because he continued.
“Don’t worry kid. This is how most of our jobs are handled. The boss rarely leaves the city. Even meeting him was a special thing. I’m guessing whatever connection you used to arrange this meeting is the reason he showed such respect. You should feel flattered. Even the price he gave was truly the cheapest I’d seen for such a job. You aren’t getting shafted. Suck it up.”
I took a moment to let go of my expectations. Then I straightened and asked.
“So what now? Where do we go from here? What are you going to do?”
“Hm? From here? Do? Go? Nowhere. We go absolutely nowhere and do absolutely nothing until twenty thousand gold is transferred into the account I am about to give you the routing number for.”
I smiled awkwardly and nodded. Christ, the man was a gruff son of a bitch. Honestly, I was more comfortable with this type of man than the type Markus was. No flowery words or pleasant nothings from him. He was all business.
I quickly transferred the money and waited for him to start telling me the plan. He pulled out a tablet and messed with it for a long while before seeming to notice I was waiting for words from him.
“You’re a pilot, right? An old-world armor? Are you any good?”
I paused to think about my phrasing.
“Depends on what good means to you.”
He showed a disgusted look and seemed about ready to spit on the ground.
“Semantics. Bah. I would have to see for myself anyways.”
He gave me a good long stare in the eyes before continuing.
“Noon tomorrow. Training yard 14. Bring your Armor.”