Augustine glanced from the platform to the floor of the factory. Two men wearing black garbs stood in tough poses in front of a table.
He turned to look out of the window he had just climbed in from. The sun began to lower itself under the horizon of the golden desert; the usual heat emitting from the stone buildings were beginning to cool.
Night soon, he made a mental note.
He looked back to the men standing guard and puckered his lips as he took a deep breath. Augustine removed a long black rope that had been slung around his shoulder. He tied one end to the railing on the platform and kept the rest in a circle.
Then, he put his forearm through the circle and stepped over the railing.
It’s just three stories, no problem. That’s only one more than two. And two is only one more than one. And one story isn’t bad at all. Remember to breathe: breathing is the key. In, then out. In, then out.
Augustine let go of the railing with caution and allowed his entire body to be held up by the rope. Then, he began unraveling the rope around his arm to lower himself.
Good thing I weigh just over ten pounds…
“Aye, Bruce,” one of the thugs said.
“What?”
“When these guys gettin’ here?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Bruce replied. “Boss says wait so we wait. They’ll get here when they get here. Now stop yappin.”
Augustine’s arm grew tired halfway down. However, despite the soreness growing in his forearm and bicep, he managed to stay silent.
I’m like a friggin ninja.
He came to a halt as he reached the first floor; just a few feet above the table. A small black bag made of cloth laid on the top. He reached out to grab it.
“Aye, Bruce.”
“What is it now, Bill!?”
“I’m gettin’ bored.”
“I really don’t care.”
“I’m jus sayin, how long do we gotta watch this-” the thug trailed off into silence.
“What,” Bruce asked. Nobody said anything as Augustine concentrated on reaching the bag. However, when he realized they stopped talking, he looked up. Both thugs had their gazes locked on him.
“Hi,” Augustine said with a smile.
“Aye!” Bill shouted as he lunged forward. Augustine gripped the handle of the bag and threw it at the thug with all his might. The thug grunted as the impact knocked him a few steps back, but he managed to catch the bag and recover.
Augustine dropped from the rope and landed with his back to the table. With one swift motion, he spun his legs and twirled his body to roll off the table and land on the ground.
Bruce dashed around the left side of the table so Augustine went right, but Bill dropped the bag with a loud clang and cornered him. Bill threw a right hook. Augustine threw his hands up to protect his head, but the impact nearly broke his bones.
First is the right arm, next will be a follow up with the left.
The thug did as predicted and went for a left jab. Augustine managed to duck and send a quick hit to his throat. Bill grunted and coughed as he retreated, so Augustine advanced. Bill growled as he regained his breath and moved forward.
Hefty brute build. He’ll most likely target my upper body as he’s too heavy to kick effectively.
Augustine dove passed the thug’s legs before he could make a move.
He’s easily six foot two; I need to knock him down before I can land something solid.
Augustine punched as hard as he could behind the man’s knee, twice in the same spot. The thug roared as he collapsed onto the injured knee. Then he sent a left hook against the man’s side, aiming for the kidney. Finally with another left hook to the man’s temple, Bill fell to the floor. He groaned as he clutched as side and head.
“Who’s your dadd-” Augustine began to say but was interrupted by a sudden blow to his own head, causing him to crash to the floor and black out.
When he awoke, the bag had returned to the table and the guards stood on guard again. He sat in a chair with his hands tied behind it.
“Bout time you woke up. Boss’ll be here soon,” Bruce said.
“Yeah, he’ll do you good,” Bill remarked and pointed at Augustine threateningly. Bruce turned his head slowly until he faced his fellow thug and stared him down. Bill retracted his finger and avoided meeting Bruce’s eyes.
“How bout you let me talk?”
“Sorry, Bruce.”
“Now then,” Bruce said, reaching to the table and holding a walkie talkie. “What’s this, then?”
“Oh that,” Augustine replied. “That’s just a thing.”
“You working with someone?”
“Your mother.”
“How’d you know we’d be here?”
“Your sister.”
“What else are you after?”
“Your… wife?”
“I don’t have a wife.”
“Shocker,” Augustine said and grinned. Bill chuckled but when Bruce sent him another threatening look, he cleared his throat and regained a serious expression.
“You beat the shit out of Bill here, so who are you? Soldier? Mercenary?”
“Just very smart. Especially compared to Mr. Brawn over here.”
“Oh ya,” Bill said, reaching into his pocket. “Heads or tails?” Bill flipped a gold coin into the air. Augustine concentrated on the coin to the point where everything else slowed down. The only thing in existence was the coin.
Started heads… five feet per second… precession… air resistance… is he going to catch it or let it drop? No hand movement implies he’s not catching… times flipped…
“Hea-” he began to say.
Shit! I forgot to factor in the bounce when it hits the ground, so…
“Tails.” The coin filled the factory with a chime, rose, and hit the ground one final time. Augustine continued to look up with an innocent smile as the thugs stared at the ground.
“How’d you do that,” Bill asked as he picked it up. “Again.” He flipped it once more and Augustine repeated the thought process, except this time the thug caught it midair.
“Tails again.”
Bill walked up to Augustine and punched him in the face, causing him and the chair to collapse.
When Augustine woke up, he had been lifted and was sitting up right again. He shook his head and cleared his throat. “Okay, this is getting a bit redundant.”
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“Stop talking,” Bruce ordered. “Boss is here.” Just then, the door at the front of the factory busted open and in walked a middle-aged man in a nice, black suit followed by five people.
Two of them wore similar clothes as Bruce and Bill; thugs of the same outfit. The third, older man wore a suit similar to the man leading them, only brown, and carried a cloth bag similar to the one on the table. The final two men wore loose brown garbs.
“Who the hell is this, Dumb and Dumber?” the man leading said.
Augustine let loose a booming laugh. “Dumb and dumber, I should have thought of that!”
“He came in on that rope right there and tried to snatch the bag,” Bruce explained. “Wasn’t sure how you wanted us to deal with him.”
“Kill him.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Augustine exclaimed. “Why you gotta be all that?”
“Because, kid,” the boss said as he walked towards Augustine. He grabbed Augustine’s jaw with a tight grip and forced eye contact while talking. “I don’t know who you are, but you found us and you knew what was in the bag, so you’re going to be a problem. The only thing that makes sense is to kill you so you don’t talk, plus you never bother me again.”
“Oooor,” Augustine struggled to squeeze out despite his jaw being forced shut and cheeks squeezed. “You could not do that, and hire me.” The boss let go of his grip.
“What?”
“I need money; you need people who are competent. You’re right, I do know a lot. I know you’re here to buy opium in a large quantity from Grandpa Don over there.”
“Competent? You were caught.”
“Unfortunate… but pure luck. The fat one happened to look over at the bag seconds before I made my escape.”
“Boss,” Bruce interrupted. “You’re not seriously considering this?” For a moment, the boss didn’t say anything.
“Let’s finish business; I’ll decide to do with the snake here in a minute.” He nodded towards the other boss, who set the bag on the table. Two of the thugs approached the table: one counted the gold and one checked out the opium bags, but Augustine’s eyes were locked on the gold.
The thug stacked it into piles, one after another, a total of five hundred. Watching it almost made Augustine drool. Then the thug re-bagged the gold. Something fell from the platform Augustine had scaled down from and the next second, smoke filled the room.
“What the hell is this!?”
“Get the money!”
“Get the opium!”
Someone cut the rope around his wrists and pushed him to his feet. A familiar voice shouted behind him, “Just like you said: If you don’t check back in on the walkie talkie, bring the guards.”
“Jay! Just in time! Pick up whichever bag jingles!” Augustine leapt onto the table and then hopped onto the rope. As he began climbing, he felt the rope tug and swing a little bit as a second person joined him.
“I got it,” Jay called out. Once they both hurdled over the railing, Augustine looked back down. Smoke nearly filled the entire first floor, blocking his vision, but he could still hear.
“City Guard,” someone announced. “The factory is surrounded! Don’t try to run! You’re all going to the dungeon for drug trafficking!” More shouts erupted: resistance from the thugs, threats from the guard, but Augustine stopped paying attention and made for the window.
Looking down at the beige colored buildings, the morning’s breakfast came knocking.
“You got this,” Jay said behind him. Augustine felt a pat on the back and calmed his mind.
We’re three stories up, there’s a building that’s roughly eight feet away. I can do this. I’ve done this before, it’s how I got here in the first place. If I did it once, I can do it again, right? Right? Yeah. For sure. Let’s do this.
Augustine pushed off the sill of the window with as much force as he could muster. The edge of the building crashed against his chest, knocking the wind out of him.
“You okay,” Jay asked.
“Yeah,” Augustine groaned as he hoisted himself onto the roof. “Toss me the-”
Before he could finish the sentence, Jay soared through the air. His blond hair waved in the light wind as his feet pounded on the rooftop and he stuck the landing with ease. “Lead the way,” he said with a smile as bright as the sun.
“Show off.” Together, the two of them hopped from building to building until landing at a shop with nowhere further to jump.
“This is it, yeah,” Jay asked. “We can get a good view from here?”
“Like I said. Just wait.”
So the two young adults sat on the stone rooftop, listening to the sounds of the crowd below them wandering from shop to shop. After a while, things began to quiet down and everybody joined in unison for a countdown.
“This is it,” Jay exclaimed with anticipation as the countdown reached one. Loud bursts shot in different areas surrounding them. A second, delayed bang rang throughout the city followed by pops and crackles as colorful sparks lit up the night sky.
Augustine peered at his friend through the corner of his eyes, who watched the fireworks with complete awe. A smirk forced itself on Augustine’s face.
“I’m gonna get you everything,” Augustine said.
Jay stopped watching the show to meet his eyes. His care-free expression turned serious for a moment, but then he smiled again. “I’m okay how it is now,” he simply stated. Then he looked back to the sky.
Augustine reached over and pat Jay on the head a couple times. As the show began to slow and people payed more attention to the shops than the sky, they scaled down the building to an alley.
Last objective: go home. The two walked through the crowd with ease, even nodding to guards in passing. After a brief five minute walk, the doors to a familiar inn stood in front of them.
Above the wooden double doors read: “The Drunken Dragon”. They forced the doors open and were immediately engulfed in a room full of loud shouts, booze, and fairly intoxicated citizens.
“Jay! Augustine,” the barkeeper shouted. “Get to work!”
“Yes sir,” they both replied in unison. Jay rushed upstairs to stash the gold and quickly joined Augustine behind the bar. After a long night of serving customers, they retired to the attic of the inn. The old, wooden floors creaked as they made their way to their beds.
“I’m tellin’ you,” Augustine said with a sigh. “I’m gonna create something better for you. And me.” Jay didn’t reply so Augustine shut his eyes and fell asleep, unaware of the smile spreading across Jay’s face.