I crashed at Tempo’s place for the rest of the night. She was creeping me out the whole time, watching me intently. She never used to do that when we were roommates for that brief time. It was off putting thinking back on it.

When I felt capable enough to walk outside, I did. My car was still at the garage, which was incredibly inconvenient. I walked out of Tempo’s apartment and into the hallway of the complex. I checked my phone. It was 3:26 AM, and I had seven missed calls from Red. I took a deep breath and called him back. It rang for a moment, and then picked up.

“CAT, Where the hell are you?! We’ve been searching the entire neighborhood!” Red was yelling what I assumed was out of concern. “It’s a long story.” I began feeling rather guilty. “Tempo was in that bar and she picked me up. I woke up at her place.” I could feel Red’s anger, even if I couldn’t see it. He began yelling louder “What the hell was that bitch doing there?! She’s fucking trying something I know it!” he sighed and said much calmer “Look just stay away from her. God knows what she’s planning. Just stay safe, I’ll see you at the mission.” He hung up. I still felt guilty.

I walked outside and called a cab back to the garage to pick up my car. Red and Anaheim still weren’t here. I got in my car and drove home. I still had a massive headache. When I got back I effectively fell on my bed and passed out.

The next few days I didn’t get much done. I rested, shook off that terrible hangover and prepared mentally for something I’ve never done before. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve done terrible things. I’ve killed dozens and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t at least slightly proud of it. But we had no idea what price or whoever the hell he works for wanted with this guy. I needed to look into this.

I went on the net and started searching for anything related to this John Townsend guy. I found some social media pages. This looked like just a normal guy, taller, a bit on the bigger side. He had glasses, short hair, this long beard. I’d guess he was in his thirties or forties. He has a wife, two kids. After I looked at some pictures I noticed he had strange eyes. He wore sunglasses most of the time but when he wasn’t he had this look in his eyes. This look, like he could snap, he looked almost unstable.

He just looked like some average joe. I have no idea what Price wants with him. I sighed. It didn’t matter, I was getting paid. Part of that unspoken contract with us mercs is not to ask questions. I typically like to follow these rules, it makes your boss less likely to murder you.

Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

When the time finally came I drove down to the parking lot and waited. I saw Lorenzo pull up. A few minutes later a U-haul with two people in it drove up. Must’ve been Anaheim and Red. I got out of my car and so did Lorenzo. Red rolled down the driver-side window. “I hope you’re all ready, there’s no going back once we’re done.” He said solemnly. I nodded. Lorenzo pulled out a pack of cigarettes and started smoking.

Red opened the back of the truck. There was rope, duct tape, and a few other odds and ends. We got in and Red closed the door. We drove in silence to the store just a few blocks away. The truck stopped, and the door was open again. We were in front of the store. We all got out. Red pulled out a picture of the guy on his phone. I already knew what he looked like but no one else did. “This is the guy, grab him, and bring him in the van. Knock him out if you have to.” Red said. He was trying to fake confidence. None of us besides maybe Anaheim felt good about doing this, I’m not sure why, we’ve all done worse.

We walked in and tried to find this guy. It took us maybe twenty minutes or so before we saw him. We walked up. Red pulled out a small pistol from his belt-line, semi automatic, looked new. John’s eyes went wide he raised his hands and before he could say anything Red spoke. “Come with us and stay quiet, alright?” John nodded frantically.

We led him back Red still holding out his pistol. Gasps and yells were heard throughout the store from people who saw us. We led him back to the van. He got in, he was terrified. I was terrified for him. I pulled out my gun and sat on the other end of the van. This was the first time I got to think about what I was really doing. I could see Lorenzo was doing the same.

This was the first time we’ve kidnapped someone. The first time we may be doing more harm than simply killing someone. God knows what Price wants with him. John could get torture, his family could. I got nauseous.

The drive was agonizingly long, nothing but a single flashlight giving some light to the room. It gave me all the time I needed to hopelessly reconsider. Red opened the door when we got there. When we exited we were at some abandoned warehouse at the outskirts of town. We led John in. It was eerily dark, a single chair in the center of the room decorating the building. We sat John down. Anaheim grabbed the duct tape from the van and taped him to the chair. John got more frantic, begging, screaming. I guess he finally realized his mortality. Anaheim punched him and taped his mouth shut. I was right then she really didn’t care.

Lorenzo looked light headed and walked outside. We waited listening to the sounds of muffled crying and screaming coming from the poor man in the chair. It was pathetic.

We really had time to think about this again. No discussion. Just thought. This really was the point of no return.