Take Me To Church

Chapter 1 - The End

Nowadays, Grosvenor Casino, Millennium Gloucester Hotel, London, Monday 04h52 AM.

"Hit me again!" bellowed the big lush at the other side of the table, wiggling his empty glass above his head. The worn waitress, way past her prime, came to pick it up.

"The same, I presume, Sir?"

I nodded and winked.

She was old and rough, looking exhausted, but still doing the graveyard shift. She probably needed it simply to survive. But she belonged somewhere else. Somewhere quiet, somewhere soft, somewhere sweet, where her children would take care of everything and bring her a hot beverage, where her grandkids would fill the rooms with smiles and laughter, while Otis Redding would be singing "Sitting on the dock of the bay" on the radio. Yet here she was, dealing with drunken pricks, making money for a company that treated her like a piece of meat, while Quincy Jones was screaming "Ai no corrida" through some overused outdated speakers at nearly five in the morning. The definition of Irony. Typical of modern-day Great Britain, a perfect picture of the Conservatives' "Big Society". A clear depiction of how much this world sucks, and how badly it is not going to change any sooner. Our society is carrion. The reason why I, Leonard Jackson Black, had to become a wild animal, a vulture, a hyena, scavenging what I could wherever I could.

"You're big blind, Sir," said the croupier.

I threw my token on the table, looking at that man on the other side in the eyes. He was tonight's job. As foolish as he looked at this moment, the dude was a smart one. His name was Elliot Emmons. Earlier this evening, he received a prize for his scientific discovery, some work with crystals and computers that are meant to revolutionize the way we store, gather and share information. Some "techie" revolution, the likes of those that happen every five years, make big money and get forgotten. Something like that. Something that got in the way of my client, annoyed him to the point something needed to happen to him. And this was where I had a part to play. I was "the something".

Looking at the Ace and Jack of Spades I was served, it seemed I was in luck tonight.

"Raise!" I told the croupier, flipping a hundred-pound token his way.

After all, you only live once, and life is short, that I knew for sure.

The three other players at the table folded, it was just between Elliot and me now.

Elliot looked as he was thinking hard, or at least I thought he was trying to; frenetically scratching his head. By the look of it, the fool was ready to face me as he started to count his tokens. But that was before she showed up, walking in her high heels, wrapped in a gala dress. Fifty-something; old but still pretty. Long plaited butterscotch brown hair and some kind of natural elegance only mature women can proudly shove in your face. Nice dress, showing enough but not too much cleavage draped with a pendant with a black stone. She whispered in Elliot's ear while giving a death stare to everyone at the table. With a resigned smile, he threw his cards to the croupier, grabbed his money and left the table. She followed without a single word and never looked back to the table. A strong woman, putting her broken man on the right tracks always inspired respect.

"You won, Sir", announced the croupier.

"I won a game, not the war," I thought. The real game started now. Time to go to work. I took my winnings and watched my target going away. He was struggling to walk straight to the elevator without the assistance of his wife.

"Good!" I said to myself. "As soon as they're in their room, it will be my time to shine, and by the look of it, this is going to be an easy job."

I decided to give Elliot the time it will take me to drink down a good old whiskey at the hotel's bar. The time for him to feel relaxed, to feel happy, to feel safe. The calm before the storm as they say. He seemed like a good, decent human being after all. I should make sure it will be fast and painless.