Have you ever been in a situation that made you wonder which point of your life was where everything truly went wrong? For me, it’s happened a few times. Thankfully, I’ve managed to survive the situations where I’m forced to ponder such things, so I have a few theories on the matter. However, that doesn’t save me from the fact that I just very much heard the all too familiar click of a pistol’s hammer being cocked back somewhere behind me. It’s not my favorite sound to be on the receiving end of, but the fact that I got to hear it at all might mean I get to think about my mistakes yet again later on.
“I’m much better at hiding things than that. Now, it’s time for you to stand up, slowly.” Caught red handed. Unfortunately, it’s not the first time I’ve been in this position. Hell, that’s why I’ve even found myself with my current job. I thought taking on a heist would be a nice break from all the stress of pulling so much security lately, but apparently I was mistaken. It’s incredibly rare that I’m caught, and usually I’ll manage to get away, but considering the target has a gun on me, that’s not an option here.
A sudden bang, accompanied by the glass of the cabinet door next to me shattering to pieces, very heavily implied that I don’t have the luxury of time to think about my next move. “I said to fucking stand up! Last chance, you have 3 seconds to get up or I’ll have to give my cleaners quite the bonus.” With that ultimatum in place, I raised my hands and started to stand up.
“Smart move. Now you get to tell me who sent you so they can be dealt with. I can’t say I’m a fan of break-ins reaching my home. If I’m satisfied with your answer, you get options. So, it’s time to see if you’re more loyal than you are intelligent.” Funny. If I had a dollar for every time I was caught in the middle of a job and presented with an “opportunity”, I’d have two dollars. It’s not much, but it’s still two more dollars than I should have. However, aside from this current predicament, the first time has worked out alright for me so far.
“And why should I tell you? I’m sure you know telling you just means a couple days of living on the run before I’m gunned down buying bread.” I will admit, I am very much geared toward my own survival, but ratting on people doesn’t tend to end well for those in my line of work. Sure, there’s a chance I could slip away for a while, but that would get maybe another year, two if I’m lucky. And being on the run doesn’t allow for much in the way of living. As much as I like to survive, I like to live, too.
“Well, provided I can take care of our little problem, you’ll have far more than a couple days. But, I did say you’d have options if I like your answer. I don’t like break-ins, but I also don’t like getting my hands dirty, it makes things very complicated for me. Believe it or not, I’d rather not kill you, especially in my own home,” my captor stated.
“I can’t say that surprises me. Nobody likes getting their hands dirty, it’s why people like me exist, so I’m inclined to believe you. That being said, I don’t like vague promises of options, especially when it comes to gambling my life on a decision.” I’ve met plenty of people that are more than happy to trade my life for information over the years. It’s never an easy situation to be in, but the more you can keep someone talking, the more time you have to re-strategize or escape. And right now, I’m set on getting out of here any way I can manage, but that still doesn’t solve my main problem… I’ve been hired to take out enough people that I know all too well that my boss is not someone you cross lightly. That doesn’t exactly leave me very motivated to hand over what I know.
“Just because I’d rather not kill you, doesn’t mean I won’t do it. Although, that doesn’t solve my problem. You’re one of many who will come after what I’ve got stashed away, so I’ll throw you a bone. Here are your options… I can shoot you and see if the next guy will tell me what I want to know, or you can tell me and you walk away. If I believe you, you get a third option, but you get to find that out after,” he said, with a crooked smile that hinted toward malicious intent.
So, there’s a mysterious third option. I’d be lying if I said that didn’t pique my curiosity a little bit. Usually, one would just be presented with the two choices, and it’s hard to believe that this guy might have something enticing enough to throw my life away so easily. The idea of it being some weird secret also doesn’t leave room for much faith, either, so I have no clue what the motivation behind that choice would be. With that considered, though, I still don’t really have anything to work with here, so I’ll have to stick with compliance for now.
“I’m not exactly sure what I can tell you will be very helpful,” I said as I turned to face Mr. Gunman. Damn, not what I was hoping to see. The sight I was met with upon completing my turn made my final decision for me. Clearly experienced, the man holding me at gunpoint was a good thirty feet away, giving him plenty of time to shoot me if I do something he doesn’t like. I’m gonna have to do some talking, regardless of how I feel about it. Sighing dejectedly, I continued, “so you’ve been around the block, then. Fine, I’m supposed to find and crack your safe and take whatever it is you’re hiding back to my boss in two days. So, unless you’re able to move fast or have people in place already, that probably won’t be very useful for you to know.”
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Times like these really make me wish I could take the time to get some more information on small jobs like these. Granted, I already should’ve known this wouldn’t be a simple snatch and grab when I was told I’d be delivering the package directly to the big man himself, but the promise of not being bothered for a couple months was too good to pass up. And this is what I get for thinking I can catch a break, a gun in my face and another offer I can’t refuse.
“I like what I’m hearing so far, keep going,” the man prompted.
“I’m supposed to deliver the package directly to my boss on the Herald Square subway platform in New York at five o’clock on Tuesday night. I don’t have a name for you, anonymity and all that. He’s easy to spot, though. He’s got a massive scar across his forehead from a close call with a nine mil round. Unless you plan on letting me take what I came for and giving it up, you’ll have around five or six guards to deal with when you show up.”
“Well,” the man grinned wide. “That’s a perfect segue to option number three… Seeing as you clearly recognized what kind of situation you’re in, I’m inclined to believe what you’ve told me. Option three is easy. I let you take what you came for, and I trail you with my men and I can get everything I need. That will leave you free to do as you see fit, afterward. I imagine following him home could lead to more than taking just your boss down, after all.” And there’s that crooked smile again. As much as I’d like to think it’s because he got what he wanted, something about it makes my gut churn like I’m skydiving.
“That simple, huh? Why the mystery about it? And if you don’t manage to take them out, I’m just gonna be even more fucked than I am right now,” I stated with more than just a hint of doubt in my voice. It wouldn’t be my first time as bait, but it would be my first time against somebody who held so much power. You don’t just go messing around with people who have senators and federal agents around the world in their pockets. You have to have just as much power to take that on, if not more. Deprived of information as I am on this guy, I don’t have faith that his people can keep me safe with option three instead of two.
“Yes, it’s that simple. As for why I kept it a secret, it was only going to be an option if I liked what I heard, otherwise I would have just shot you. I have very little patience for my time being wasted. Luckily for you, I liked what I heard. As far as your safety concerns, there isn’t a member of my security that isn’t ex-special forces. I can guarantee your boss will be completely unable to touch you,” he said with what can only be described as sheer confidence.
Well, ex-special forces, I can see why he’d be so sure of himself. If I was surrounded by S.E.A.L. team six, I’d probably feel the same. That means much less risk for me. With security that’s that well trained, they’ll be able to keep a low profile, if nothing else. That could work to keep suspicion away from me if they decide to take their time making a move. Option number three is sounding a lot more sound, especially considering his response definitely holds water.
“Okay, then. Where is it? I was searching for a good hour before you came along and have only managed to spot a couple cash stashes.” Honestly, with all his stash spots, this would’ve led to a nice little payday on its own, had I not been here for something else entirely.
“Out that doorway, to the left, end of the hall,” he said, waving the gun toward my right. “Let’s make this quick, if we have to be in New York in two days, there’s no time to waste!”
And there goes that opportunity. He’s not dumb enough to lead the way, either. With no other choice, I started toward the door and turned to head down the hall. Opening the door, I entered what was apparently the bedroom, Mr. Gunman keeping back a good distance. Once he was in the room, he waved the gun toward the side of the bed, so I walked over next to the pillow. Keeping the gun on me, he grabbed something from a drawer in his dresser and tossed it to me. “Put that up against the base of the pillow.”
After catching the object, I quickly inspected it. Just some nondescript block of some kind of metal, presumably a magnet of some form. Lo and behold, placing it at the base of the pillow produced a faint click and the pillow slightly lifted away from the bed. “Clever, I doubt I’d have found that if I had the entire night here alone,” I said, turning to my assailant. With an unamused look, he motioned for me to lift the secret panel under the pillow. Upon doing so, I looked inside to see a… piece of cloth covering some small lump of something? What the fuck is this, and what am I grabbing this for?
Seeing my look of utter confusion, Mr. Gunman’s face twisted back into that malicious grin. “Go ahead, take a look. The cloth is just to protect from dust.” Removing the rag did nothing to ease my confusion at all. The little lump of something turned out to be some small black crystal of some kind. It was covered in strange patterns that seemed to have no rhyme or reason, and almost appeared to be filled with glitter. I could see it being valuable, it certainly looked rare, but why the special interest from the boss?
Turning my head to see if I could figure anything out based on his expression, I found it no more helpful than before opening the safe. Just the same crooked grin that leaves my stomach in knots. He motioned for me to pick up the gem and his smile deepened. Confused and now anxious, I decided it was time to get it over with and reached for it. The moment the skin of my hand touched the crystal, I felt the heat sap from my hand and it felt like I got hit with a flashbang, and then nothing…