Monday June 5th, 2025 Mazuma City, Mazuma Amerika

Gunner Web

OSDB Rank: N/A - Civilian

OSDB Threat Rating: N/A - Civilian

Gunner climbed out of the black SUV as the door opened. The smell of the city’s port filled his nose. It was a mix of salt water, propane, and maritime gasoline. However, something about the tinge that itched the inside of his nose always brought a smile to his face.

The evening sun cast an orange-and-pink glow across the bustling docks. Stacks of cargo containers sat underneath groaning mechanical cranes that worked to move them to a nearby ship. Dozens of forklifts roamed the marked roadways, loading and unloading patient semis.

Rows of warehouses showed their age, with broken glass windows and rusted steel walls. Overhead working lights illuminated their interiors with broken boat frames and moldy wood. The powerful gusts of wind coming off the harbor carried the songs of local seagulls.

The port was the perfect place for Gunner’s meetings. It sat across the bay, far enough from Mazuma City’s center to avoid any prying eyes. It was well secured with barbed wire fences, endless surveillance, and round the clock armed security.

It gave him access to the perfect inlet of bringing anything he needed into the city. And as long as he continued to pay off the right people, no one batted an eye. The warehouses his company leased were always empty. He used them more for ad hoc meeting spots and temporary storage while he moved anything hot to a more secure location outside the city. But he always tried to drop ship orders and hand off anything that might be considered taboo to his client as soon as it was received to minimize his liability.

Gunner took a moment to adjust the bottom of his vest and suit jacket. After smoothing out any wrinkles on the front with the slide of his hand, he adjusted the knot on his red silk tie. The thud of the passenger door pulled his attention to his side. He walked to the front of the vehicle and waited for his assistant.

Flux was wearing what she always wore to one of Gunner’s meetings. Her black hair was tied into a loose bun. She adjusted the fake black glasses on her face that she wore because she thought it gave her a more sophisticated look. Her garb was all business, with a black suit jacket paired with a black skirt. If it wasn’t for the open button white dress shirt that exposed her blessed bosom, all eyes would gaze at her long legs covered in black stockings.

She loved dressing this way because it always drew attention. But it wasn’t for some personal validation. A distracted client always gave them a better deal. And money was king.

When Gunner looked into her glowing purple eyes, she smiled.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“Yes, Sir,” Flux said.

The pair walked across the long parking lot to one of Gunner’s warehouses. The two massive doors on the front and back were already opened, giving it the impression of an aircraft hangar rather than a warehouse. Inside, a white box truck idled.

Two piles of crates sat behind it. The right most side were all wooden crates. Several had Cyrillic script on them, while others were plastered with “Property of United Arms Industries, Ltd.”. The pile on the left contained more modern plastic weapons cases that were stacked on top of two large wooden crates.

“Looks like Jimmy and Franco already unloaded everything,” Gunner said.

“Seems that way,” Flux said. “Do you want me to double check what they brought?”

“Please.”

While Flux marched toward the crates, Gunner walked to the driver’s side of the box truck. The two men were in the middle of a heavy Italian conversation, waving their cigarettes around. When Gunner knocked on the rolled up window, Jimmy jumped while Franco laughed at him. The heavy set man with the black beanie and five o’clock shadow stuck his cigarette in his mouth while he rolled down the window.

“Ey, Mr. Webb, how you doin’?”

“Not too bad Jimmy. How are you both?”

“Eh, can’t complain, can’t complain. Franco and I were just arguing about where to go for dinner. He wants to grab a slice. I’m thinking we go to the deli. What do you think?”

“Tough choices. If it was me at this minute, I’d go for Tony’s.”

“Thank you!” Franco shouted before slapping Jimmy’s shoulder. “You can’t beat Tony’s.”

“Ah, whatever,” Jimmy said. “The last thing you need is another slice a pie.”

“Look who’s talkin’ you fat fuck. The truck’s leaning toward your side and it ain’t the cargo in the back.”

“Oh! Who do you think you’re talkin’ to? I outta slap you upside your head.”

Gunner cleared his throat to pull both men’s attention.

“Sorry Mr. Webb,” Jimmy said, pointing over his shoulder. “This fuckin’ guy just gets my blood pressure goin’.”

“No problem. I just wanted to double check how everything went with the pickup.”

“Everything was smooth. The gear was right where you said it would be. We grabbed a bit of everything, like you asked.”

“Perfect,” Gunner said before reaching into his right coat pocket and pulling out a thick envelope. He handed it to Jimmy. “This is both of your payment plus a little extra because of the short notice. Keep the truck running. I don’t expect this meeting to take long. Once we’re finished, I want everything loaded up and back into the storage container.”

Jimmy gave Gunner a quick salute. “You got it, boss.”

Gunner left the side of the truck and joined Flux in front of the wares. Several of the crates were open, revealing multiple makes and models of various rifles, handguns, and explosives.

“Does everything look good?” he asked.

“Yeah, they did a good job,” Flux said. “They picked a good assortment of prices.”

“Good. They’ve both been reliable.”

“Yeah, but they argue like an old married couple,” Flux said with a sly smile.

Gunner let out a short laugh. “Yes they do, but they’ve been friends together for years. Those bonds are scarce.”

“Just like us?” Flux asked, looking up at him.

“Exactly.”

The two shared a brief smile before they both turned at the sound of approaching vehicles. Two white vans slowly pulled into the warehouse. Each held two men wearing red jumpsuits and white gardening gloves. When they stopped, each of them scrambled to put on white plastic hockey masks that looked to be purchased from a Halloween store before exiting the vehicles.

Gunner and Flux looked at each other and smirked. Flux sat on the edge of the crates while Gunner walked forward to meet the men. They paused ten feet from each other before Gunner started the meeting.

James Williams, Bobby Miller. Ryan Davis, and Albert Lee, Gunner thought. So far, first impressions are not that great, but this is their first deal, so maybe there’s still hope.

“Gentlemen,” the fixer said, clapping his hands together. “My name is Mr. Webb. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Who will be your representative?”

Each of the men looked at each other before the one in the middle stepped forward. “That would be me.”

Gunner recognized the man as James. “And how should I address you?”

“We’re the Faceless.”

“So should I call you Mr. Faceless?”

“No, we’re the Faceless,” James said, waving his hands between him and his crew.

“Then if you’re the representative of the Faceless, how should I address you?”

It was clear from the long pause that James had not come up with an alternative name. He turned and whispered to his crew before turning back. “You can call me J.”

“Very well, J. Since this is our first deal together, I would like to explain a few rules. I only deal in cash and in American dollars. I’m not an exchange, so please don’t ask. I don’t offer credits, trades, or work on consignment. I guarantee the products, services, or information ordered will be delivered in the manner expected. If you have any problems post delivery, I will take care of it at no extra charge if I find we delivered it with defects. I only work through a small client list and referrals from that client list. You are here because a mutual acquaintance vouched for you. However, depending on the result of this meeting I will determine if I want to continue to do business with you. Is that understood?”

Each of the men nodded their heads before James spoke. “Yeah.”

“Wonderful,” Gunner said, turning to his side and presenting his assistance. “As you see, I have my wonderful assistant, Flux, with me today. She will present the weapons as I speak. Do any of you have any questions before we begin?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Great. Flux if you’d be so kind to start with the first item. Now, gentlemen, based on the referral from our mutual acquaintance, it’s my understanding you are new to the city and looking to get armed. We’ve put together an assortment of wares for you to meet the needs of any budget.”

Gunner turned and waited for Flux to pull out the first rifle before he continued. “Starting with one of the most common rifles in the world, the AK-47. And thanks to Soviet surplus, one of the most affordable. Known for its reliance on the battlefield, it’s one of the few rifles that you can cake in mud or throw it in the bay and she’ll still purr when you pull the trigger. Chambered in seven-six-two by thirty-nine, you won’t have to worry about standard issue body armor used by the local police. Each rifle is sold with an empty thirty-round magazine with more available to purchase should you request.”

“That looks like a gun my grandfather would use,” Bobby said, eliciting laughter from his compatriots.

“Quite astute,” Gunner said. “These first went into service in the nineteen-forties, making it one of the oldest rifles we keep readily in stock. However, these were manufactured in surplus during the cold war, meaning they are extremely cheap and have tons of parts for repairs should they break.”

“Nah, we’re not about that,” James said. “We’re looking for something a little more modern and compact.”

“Very well,” Gunner said, turning and nodding to the furthest crates. “Everyone knows of the excellence in German engineering. Next, we have the H&K UMP, one of the most recognizable modern submachine guns today. Its metal and polymer body keeps it nice and lightweight, almost half of that of the AK. Chambered in forty-five, it has a higher stopping power than most other submachine guns which typically come chambered in nine-millimeter. Its stock is collapsible, allowing it to fit into smaller spaces such as under a trench coat or inside a briefcase. The rate of fire of six hundred to seven hundred and fifty rounds per minute is manageable with its simple blowback design.”

“That’s better, but we want to see the best,” James said; his crew nodding in agreement.

“The best is quite subjective, J,” Gunner said, raising a finger. “But I believe I understand what you mean.” Gunner turned around. “Flux, would you mind retrieving the Vector?”

Everyone watched as Flux walked around the crate retrieving a smaller plastic weapon crate from the ground. When she reached for it, her skirt rode up, revealing the curves of her plump bottom. All of their client’s heads turned. Gunner just smiled and shook his head as he waited for her to open it. Once she pulled out the weapon and unfolded the stock, he continued to address the buyers.

“This is the Kriss Vector Gen 1. While it might be one of the most expensive submachine guns we offer, the price is well worth the performance. Weighing in at six pounds, it retains a lightweight build expected of most modern submachine guns. As you saw, Flux do at the start, the stock is collapsible, allowing it to fold into a smaller form factor as needed. With a rate of fire of twelve hundred rounds per minute, the person on the other end of your muzzle will be dead before they know it. The nine-millimeter variant you see before you feeds from Glock magazines, making it a perfect pairing with the Glock 17 pistol. However, they come chambered in larger cartridge sizes such as forty-five ACP, ten-millimeter AUTO, and Three-fifty-seven SIG. The assembled model you see before you has a few extra accessories, including an Eotech sight, a 4GSK suppressor, and a two-point adjustable sling.”

“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” James said. “The damn thing looks like a space gun. We’ll take six of those. Fully kitted.”

“All right. Any additional magazines and ammo?”

“Yeah, let’s get twenty of the largest magazines you can get us, and we’ll take a thousand rounds a piece.”

“Got it. My suppliers are running a buy two get one free sale on grenades, if you’re interested.”

“How many come in a crate?”

“Sixteen for the F1 models I’m speaking of.”

“We’ll take a crate then.”

“I’ll get that added to the total, then. Is there anything else you’re looking for? Shotguns, handguns, cleaning kits? We also do custom manufactured orders if you’re looking for something specific.”

“What’s that about?”

“Let’s say you needed a torch that would cut through the lock on the world’s strongest vault. Or you wanted a boat that was undetectable by radar and sonar. Something that seems impossible can be possible. However, those are the most expensive products I can offer and are only offered to select clientele.”

James looked back at his crew before Bobby spoke up. “You said you could get us anything, right?”

“While my reach is not endless, it’s always the goal.”

“What about women?”

Gunner smiled. “I know some of the best escorts in the—”

“No, no, no,” Bobby said. “We’re not looking to lease. We’re looking to buy.”

Gunner’s smile faded as he looked back at Flux, who shut each of the crates. “I’m sorry gentlemen, but the meeting is concluded.”

“Wait what?” James asked.

“I’m not interested in doing business with you. You may leave the same way you entered.”

“So you’ll sell us some guns, but not a couple of girls?”

“Every man has his own morals.”

“But what about the gear?”

“Mr. Williams, let me be clear,” Gunner said with a stern brow. “The only reason I agreed to this meeting is because a mutual acquaintance vouched for you. I may know who you are, but I do not know what kind of man you are. Now that I understand the company you keep, I no longer wish to do business with you.”

Bobby nudged James’s arm. “Dude, how does he know your name?”

“Shut up, Bobby!” James shouted.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Gunner let out a heavy sigh but tried to maintain his cordial appearance. “Now, I could always make an assumption of the kind of man you are. Such as the fact that you are a lost boy with a contempt for authority because the only time your father showed you any mind was when he beat you, screaming while he called you worthless and weak. So, when you came of age, you thought you’d show him. You got your revenge and in return you did time in juvenile detention until you were eighteen. Once you got out, you had no skills or way to make money, so you fell back into your old ways, starting a street gang with all the local trash. Does that sound about right so far?”

Gunner didn’t have to see James’s clenched fists and the nervous shuffling of the other members to know it was the truth. His information was always right. When none of them responded, he continued. “But you couldn’t stay in your hometown. Too many people knew who you were. So you traveled to the closest major city. You hoped to make a name for yourself. This is Mazuma City, the City of Fortune, after all. However, what you’d tell no one, even yourself, is that you lack confidence. It’s why you came to this meeting wearing hockey masks and jumpsuits like budget store villains. It’s why you don’t lead your men. And it’s why you wish to buy someone who can’t fight back.”

James reached into his inner pocket and pulled out a pistol, pointing it straight at Gunner. “Shut up! You don’t know shit about me.”

Gunner heard Flux jump from the crate and held up his arm, causing her to freeze. If he hadn’t, the men would already be dead.

“You think you know me, asshole?” James shouted, waving his firearm. “You don’t know shit!”

Gunner leaned to the side and squinted. “Ah, the Beretta M9. Popular in the eighties, albeit a bit outdated compared to today’s Glock 19 or SIG P320. It also looks like you’ve got a bit of carbon fouling on your muzzle. You should probably get that cleaned.”

Each of the men looked at the edge of their barrels before James scolded them. “What the hell are you all doing? Stop pointing your guns at yourselves and aim them at him!”

“Mr. Williams, before things turn sour for you and your crew, I’d advise you to lower your weapons,” Gunner said calmly.

“Stop using my name! It’s J. And what are you going to do about it, huh? There’s four of us and two of you.”

“My apologies, J. But if you truly believe that you have the upper hand in this situation, then you are grossly miscalculating your position.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are speaking to me like that? You don’t know anything about me, my crew, or my family.”

“If I offended you, then I humbly apologize,” Gunner said, crossing his chest and briefly bowing. “As I spoke earlier, I was only making… assumptions. Whether they were correct was for you to decide.”

“Well, they weren’t. If we were back in Sarasota, I’d drop your ass for what you said to me.”

“That’s the problem, J. You’re far from your hometown of Sarasota. You’re sheep that wandered too far from the protection of their own pasture, walked right into the bear’s den, and just poked it with four loud metal sticks.”

“Did you just call us sheep?” J asked.

“Huh, I guess I did,” Gunner said with a wild smile before pointing his thumb over his shoulder. “But make no mistake, gentlemen. If I’m the bear in this analogy, that city behind me is the meat grinder that will strip off everything you have and churn you into mush until all you have left are your teeth.

“I’m tired of listening to this guy,” Bobby said. “Let’s drop this fool, take the shit, and get out of here.”

The subtle smile on Gunner’s face faded. “It seems none of you are listening to a word I’ve said. I’m trying to teach you a thing or two, but it’s clear to me you’re all lost causes. All right, playtime is over. Get back into your vans and head home.”

James and his men glanced at each other before the leader pulled the slide back on his pistol and raised it. “We’re not going anywhere. This meeting isn’t over. You’re going to give us the cargo for free and walk away.”

Gunner cocked his brow when he saw James’s eyes glow yellow. He felt a small prod in his mind, like a cat pawing a tree. Gunner smiled when he realized what was happening.

“Are you attempting to use Persuasion on me, Mr. Williams?”

The yellow glow in James’s eyes vanished, and they filled with terror.

Bobby tapped his friend's shoulder with the end of his pistol. “Bro, why isn’t it working?”

Gunner’s chuckle built into full laughter as he stared at the shaking guns in front of him.

“What the hell is so funny?” James asked.

“Oh nothing,” Gunner said. “I’m just realizing how right your father’s assessment was.”

Gunner didn’t blink when the hammer of James’s gun hit the firing pin. He watched Flux dash in front of him and expand. She created a purple translucent wall that acted like a dense ballistic gel, allowing for each of the bullets to penetrate the surface and stop a few inches through. The Faceless stood stunned as their pistols all clicked repeatedly.

Flux’s slime pooled into a puddle before rising into a humanoid form. She’d changed from the office attire to a purple-and-black skin tight, one piece super suit. His assistant built it completely for aesthetics given all of it was entirely slime, a perfect replication that was one of her gifts.

“She’s a fucking supe!” Bobby cried.

“What do you want me to do?” Flux asked, looking back at Gunner.

Gunner sighed before looking at each of the men. “Kill them. Quietly and quickly.”

Flux didn’t hesitate. She extended her arms out, shooting two slime tendrils out of each hand. Each one connected with an assailant, wrapping around their mouths and heads. Their wide eyes and elongated mouths remained as she twisted their heads.

The sounds reminded Gunner of someone stepping on a chip bag. Small pops followed by a crescendo of cracks. He’d seen her work dozens of times before, which is why he had to be specific about how he wanted it handled. Otherwise, it would have ended up a lot more bloody.

When Flux retracted her slime, each of the bodies fell to the concrete ground with heavy thuds. The doors on the truck swung opened. Jimmy and Franco waddled over with pistols drawn.

“Oh, shit,” Franco said, through heavy breaths. “Those four are dead as a doornail.”

“Mr. Webb, Flux, you two alright?” Jimmy asked, panting.

“We’re okay,” Gunner said. “An unfortunate consequence of dealing with new clients. If you’ll give me a moment, I’d like to get some air.”

Gunner turned around and walked across the warehouse floor before stopping at the edge of the rear opening. He took a moment to close his eyes, allowing the sea air to cool him off.

That was far from how he wanted the meeting to go. However, he was always prepared for this. It was why he built his own client list himself, and only accepted referrals from people he trusted. It minimized the potential fallout.

This was the cost of doing business. That’s also why he didn’t date civilians and stuck strictly to supers. Something about the fact that they could defend themselves left him feeling more comfortable should his business bleed into his personal life. Attachments were liabilities, ones that his enemies could exploit.

His own self-reflection reminded him of his second meeting he still had left in the day.

Gunner opened his eyes and looked down at his AP Royal Oak Concept. The chaos of the meeting didn’t leave him much time to get back home and get cleaned up for his next meeting. He needed to square away this business and make some phone calls. While he reached into his pocket to pull out his cell phone, he heard Flux’s slime slither next to him before appearing at his side.

“Do you want me to dispose of the bodies?” she asked.

“No… I’ll get the cleaners to do it,” Gunner said.

“Mrs. Peach?”

“Yeah, it’s better that we let the professionals handle it.”

“I didn’t make a mess, though.”

“Thankfully. However, there might be something we missed. That’s why she’s the best.”

Flux shook her head. “I should have killed them as soon as they talked to you like they did.”

Gunner let out a short laugh. “It was fine. I gave my gibes to them, too. A client throwing insults at me is not a reason for you to kill them, Flux.”

“I disagree,” Flux said, crossing her arms.

Gunner smiled and shook his head. Flux had always been overprotective of him ever since they’d met.. He didn’t know what he did to deserve her, but he was always thankful to have her around, even when she proved to be a handful. She was invaluable. Without her, building his business would have taken him decades.

“Should I have the boys load up the equipment?” Flux asked.

“Yeah and have them load all the hot cargo containers on the semis and move them offsite,” Gunner said.

Flux leaned back and furrowed her brow. “Really? Why?”

“There were a lot of gunshots. I don’t need the Mazuma City Police Department snooping around and finding something they shouldn’t.”

“Don’t you own half the department, anyway?”

“Yes, but some men are incorruptible who still do their jobs. It’s better for us to be careful.”

“Okay, I’ll also inform the port security that the cleaners are coming.”

As Flux turned, Gunner grabbed the inside of her arm. “And before you go. Come here.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his chest.

She froze, holding her arms up in the air as she stammered. “W-what are you doing?”

“I know I don’t do it often enough, but I just wanted to thank you for what you did for me back there.”

He kissed the top of her head before pulling away. When he looked down, Flux’s cheeks were flushed, and she refused to look him in the eyes. She glanced briefly before looking away.

“Y-yeah, of course, Sir,” she said.

“Don’t let me keep you,” Gunner said, laughing. “I’m going to head home for my second appointment. I’ll see you back there when you’re done with everything?”

She nodded and turned her backpedaling into a sprint before morphing into a puddle. After slithering across the warehouse floor, she popped next to Jimmy and Franco. She spoke with them for a minute before they all started loading the crates.

Gunner walked past the group and headed to the front of the warehouse. When his driver, Daniel, saw him, he exited the front of their SUV. He walked to the rear door, and opened it for his employer. Once Gunner climbed in, he waited for his driver to return behind the wheel.

“Where to, Mr. Webb?” Daniel asked, looking at him through the rear mirror.

“Home, please,” Gunner said, pulling out a burner phone from his front pocket. “I’ve got a second appointment in the evening.”

“A date perhaps?”

Gunner grinned as he looked toward the front. “Not officially. It’s a work meeting more than anything, but we’ll see how the evening goes.”

“I’ll send you all my luck, Sir.”

“Thank you, Daniel.”

When the vehicle pulled away, Gunner dialed the referral’s number he had memorized and waited for it to answer. The gentleman’s voice that answered was aged and spoke wearily. “Hello?”

“Call me from the app,” Gunner said, before hanging up.

He looked out his nearby window. They crossed Saint Mary’s bridge, giving him a perfect view of the sunset falling into the bay. The nearby skyscrapers across the water sparkled in the pink and orange sky like the ends of an inverted chandelier. Bright skylights waved back and forth. Beacons calling all nearby travelers to their eventual salvation or end.

Exterior lights mounted along the tallest buildings illuminated the gold edgings that wrapped around each curve and window. The city's ordinance forced an art déco architecture for every building over five stories. Even with all its problems, there was no denying its beauty.

Once his phone rang, Gunner checked to see that the call was routing through the Webber app before answering it. “Angelo, we’ve got a problem.”

“Yeah. Since you’re calling me, I take it that the meeting didn’t go well?”

“It did not. I need to know what you want done with the bodies.”

“Christ… what happened?”

“A lot of things went wrong. He asked for women, and I’m not talking about escorts. Did you know that was the business they were in?”

“Fucking giamoke. Of course not, Mr. Webb. Had I’d known, I would have dealt with him personally.”

“Well, that wasn’t all. He and his boys pulled their guns on me. He even tried to use Persuasion on me to get me to give him the goods for free. When I didn’t and refused to continue to do business, he fired at me. You can guess what happened next.”

“I’m so embarrassed. You think you know someone, but you don’t. Fucking kids these days. That mouth thing he had was a gift. He could have done so much with it.”

“Since you were the referral, you understand what that means.”

Angelo let out a heavy sigh. “Yeah, I understand. Whatever the costs, I’ll pay them.”

“Half a million. That will cover the cleaning fee, my time, and an inconvenience penalty.”

“Mr. Webb, please, I can’t afford…” Angelo’s voice trailed off, and he cleared his throat. “I’d appreciate it if you could spare me a few weeks to collect.”

“Of course, Angelo. I’m not going to throw away the years we’ve done business together.”

“Thank you, Mr. Webb. I promise I won’t let you down.”

“You mean again?”

“Yes. My apologies. I promise I won’t let you down again.”

“What would you like me to do with the bodies?”

“Do with what you will, Mr. Webb. They’re all a bunch of nobodies.”

“Very well.”

After ending the call, Gunner opened his app and selected the next contact. He waited a few rings before a chipper elderly woman answered the phone. “Peach Cleaners.”

“Mrs. Peach, how are you?” Gunner asked.

“Ah Mr. Webb, what a pleasant surprise. I’m doing absolutely wonderful. Thank you for asking.”

“How are the grandkids?”

“Growing taller by the minute. In a few years, they’ll surpass me. It seems each generation gets bigger.”

“That they do. I just visited Sister Helena’s last week. There are teens that are almost as tall as I am.”

“Isn’t that something? I swear they put something in the water.”

“Maybe they do. I’ll have to look into that.”

The two shared a brief laugh before Mrs. Peach spoke. “While I love to gab as the next gal, I don’t mean to keep you. I assume you had business to discuss?”

“Unfortunately so. I’ve neglected my laundry and I have a few loads that need to be sorted and cleaned.”

“How many loads, Mr. Webb?”

“Four.”

“What kind of cleaning do you need?”

“A thorough one. It’s not quite a mess, but I would like everything taken care of.”

“Where are the loads located?”

“At my docks, warehouse nine. I’ll inform my security that your people are to be expected.”

“Perfect. I’ve got everything in order here. Do you need anything else?”

“That’s everything, Mrs. Peach,” Gunner said, smiling. “I’ll get the payment wired to your account later today.”

“Thank you, Mr. Webb. It’s always a pleasure.”

“You too, Mrs. Peach. Take care.”

When Gunner hung up the call, he scooted up on his seat and grabbed a water bottle that sat in the open ice tray on top of the minibar. As he sipped on the water, the SUV exited the offramp into the city center. It was the time when the day turned to night was when the city was most alive.

A sea of bodies weaved in between the blocks, only to be stopped by a change of lights. Passersby of all races and creeds intermingled and danced to the beats emanating from the City’s Heart; the strip of nightclubs famous for their high prices and exclusive clientele. Working men and women stood on each corner of the red-light district, offering to visit the nearby hotels with anyone who had enough cash.

Dozens of celebrities walked red carpets for the latest premier at the Midnight Theater, attracting gawkers and fans from all over the world. Tourists stood with phones in their hands in the city circle, only to have them stolen by men with quick hands while a nearby MCPD patrol watched and laughed. And this was a slow night.

Gunner felt an overwhelming sense of pride as the vehicle approached his abode. The Lighthouse was a twenty-five floor hotel that sat in the heart of the city’s commercial district and overlooked a beautiful park. Its stair-stepped exterior was wide at the bottom and tapered to a top spire. The black windows provided contrast to the gold painted supports. The aesthetic accentuated sleek geometric circles and squares on top of golden arches.

Newly arriving limousines idled patiently around a grand water fountain, waiting to drop off their illustrious passengers. But the front door was for guests and not their destination. After pulling around the side of the building, Daniel turned the SUV and drove into the underground garage.

He stopped in front of a metal overhead door and an armed security guard sitting in a small box. After validating their identity, the metal door rose into the ceiling, allowing them to pull in. They passed dozens of sports cars and luxury vehicles that were each worth more than most people’s salary.

Once they reached the far back wall, they passed through another garage door into Gunner’s private carport. Daniel parked the car and exited the vehicle. He opened his employer’s door and waited for him to climb out.

“I shouldn’t need you for the rest of the evening, Daniel,” Gunner said, reaching out and pulling out a wad of cash. He flipped through a couple of hundreds before handing it to the young man. “Here. Go take your girl to a nice dinner, on me.”

“Wow, thank you Mr. Webb,” Daniel said, wide eyed. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. Think of it as a hazard bonus for the issue at the docks today.”

“Mr. Webb. I live on the west side. There isn’t a night that goes by that we don’t hear gunshots. That sort of thing doesn’t bother me.”

Gunner tilted his head and squinted at the man. Daniel wasn’t telling him something he already didn’t know. His driver was a former member of Los Desalmados, a prolific Hispanic gang on the city’s west side.

After meeting his girlfriend, he was looking for a way out where the only option was blood. In a bold move during one of Gunner’s meetings with their leader, Daniel asked to work for him. The initiative and desperation of the man spoke to Gunner’s heart. Death was on the line based on his answer. He couldn’t say no.

When a man is face to face with death, you will know the color of his heart, Gunner remembered thinking.

“You’re still living on the west side?” Gunner asked. “Why? I pay you over six figures as my driver, and give you cash bonuses regularly.”

“I know, Mr. Webb, and I am eternally grateful. It has nothing to do with the pay. I’ve been staying over there because the rent is cheap compared to downtown. Maria and I have been saving up to buy our own place.”

“Are you trying to pay cash? Wait… you’re nesting. Maria’s pregnant, isn’t she?”

Daniel’s grin grew from ear to ear as he looked down at the ground. “You’re right on the money, Mr. Webb.”

Gunner reached out and placed his hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “Well, congratulations Daniel, that’s great. How far along is she?”

“She’s eight months along.”

“Eight months. That’s a bit before you started working for me.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“I should have known. Where are you looking?”

“On the north side. There’s a place off of a hundred and tenth and Brookfield. We’ve already seen it and Maria loves it.”

“I know that building. Tell you what, you text me the condo you two were looking at and I’ll take care of the deposit and down payment for you.”

“Mr. Webb… I… appreciate the offer, but I just couldn’t.”

“Yes you can, Daniel. You’ve been an excellent driver. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that since you’ve worked for me, you’ve been available every single day I’ve needed you. You always show up on time and are well dressed. And most of all, you’re reliable.”

Daniel furrowed his brow and nodded. “I’ve always just wanted to do a good job for you, Mr. Webb. I know you probably already know this, but you saved my life, in a sense. I will always be in your debt for giving me this opportunity.”

“I’m happy to hear that,” Gunner said, patting Daniel’s shoulder. “Now, I won’t take no for an answer. Send me the listing before tomorrow, and I’ll take care of the rest.”

Daniel reached for Gunner’s hand and shook it with both hands. “Thank you, Mr. Webb. Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome. Now, take your girl out somewhere nice to celebrate. That’s my next directive for you.”

“I will Mr. Webb. I promise.”

Gunner tightened his grip around Daniel’s hand and gave him a final firm shake. He turned and exited the garage through the glass double doors before coming to a room with cream tile with a gold metal gate in front of a personal elevator.

Gunner slid the gate to the side before entering the maroon carpeted cabin and shutting it behind him. He hit the top button and waited for his ride to take him to the top floor. While it ascended, he double checked his watch for the time.

The drive home and conversation with Daniel took a bit too much time, Gunner thought. She could be here any minute.