“He’s gone,” Michael said, as he sat down.
“Good,” Chuck looked at his security camera footage; everyone was going about their usual routine. “How come our income is slowly dwindling? We should be making way more with the Giuseppes underground.”
Michael cleared his throat, “The police have been hitting the street dealers nonstop, and they’re getting to scared to work. One of my best earners has disappeared off the radar,” he said, defensively throwing his hands up.
Chuck clenched his fist, “Just when things should get better they get fucking worse.”
“I know.”
“No you don’t,” Chuck snapped.
“Okay,” Michael said, surprised.
“We’re getting less and less product through each week and Rai is taking a bigger hand in things, plus Detective Thomas fucking Salks is eating away at a nice slice of pie. We got more overheads than any legitimate company.”
“What are we going to do?” Michael asked.
“Increase security at the warehouse – turn make it a fortress, something that even the cops will be to scared to come near. Elite Forces won’t even try their luck. We move all the crews there; have living quarters and the only way things move in and out is through Rai. Let him do the work if he wants more of a share. First we buy up as many arms as we can off Rai, which will get us in good with Kim and then we move in. I mean fucking concrete ourselves there, guys with machine guns patrolling twenty four hours a day, dogs, lookouts, spotlights, cameras.”
“Sounds like a safe investment,” Michael said, coolly.
“Yeah, you and Charlie will run it. I’ll get Thomas Salks to provide police escorts to Rai’s deliveries. Everyone wins.
“Get Brendan to set up a meeting with Rai. Tell him to forget money for the next shipment…we’ll take guns.”
Michael nodded and stood up to leave, “I’m sorry about Angelo,” Chuck said.
Michael looked back at the boss with a smile, “Thanks.”
The lieutenant walked passed the gangsters dressed as office workers on computers and pressed the ground button in the lift. The two security guards stood at attention as he walked toward them. The chubby one with the moustache nodded, “Mornin’ Michael.”
“Fuck off,” Michael said, not even bothering to make eye contact.
Say that again and I’ll bury you. John stroked his moustache trying to keep his cool as the fat lieutenant entered the car waiting for him. The security guard looked to his partner, “Fucking nerve on this guy aye?”
“I’ll say, after all we do for them.”
John looked at his watch, “Well I’ll try not to let it get to me, but for now I am finished anyway,” he smiled.
“Lucky bastard. Who is replacing you?”
“Nathan,” John said, hoping he had the replacements name right.
John moved to Contro just as the war began to erupt. He knew it would bring about good business and while he waited for that business; he took a job working security for his unsuspecting employer. Chuck was paying him for two jobs, full time security and one off assassin. John had no idea how the nickname the driver came about; the only thing he could think of was because he always used cars didn’t every one? Who walks to an assassination and then walks away? He thought.
John parted his index finger and thumb through his moustache as he entered the second basement level underneath the office building. His small red beat up car showed no indication that a ruthless killer for hire drove it, but in fact John had been travelling in this car all over the country. He passed side doors and made his way straight to the boot and with a twist of the key and a few thumps – the boot opened and it appeared to be empty. John peeled back the corner of a cover – showing that the seemingly empty boot was actually a mobile armory.
There was a mixture of everything all placed down in individual clear cases – after he used a weapon for one job he ditched it, no matter how fond of the weapon he was, or how much it cost. John looked at the silencer-equipped pistols. No good, we need panic and confusion. Shotgun? He thought looking at the long double barrel and decided against it, the sniper rifle was a definite no it was for another job entirely. The driver smiled as his eyes rested on a case with two semi-automatic pistols. John took out a black pen and drew a smiley face on the case containing the two high-powered pistols as a reminder.
He shut the boot and proceeded to the front of the car; he grabbed the water coolant off the front passenger seat and pressed the button to pop open the bonnet; with a click it popped up a little. John placed two fat fingers underneath the lid and pushed the lever releasing the bonnet slowly into the air. The gas had run out from the struts and he was forced to hold the bonnet with one hand to stop it crashing down on him, as he added coolant. After checking a few vitals it was time to head back to Urban Backpackers – John’s temporary home in Contro.
“Hello comrade,” John said to the manager sitting in a bored state at reception.
The man gave a grunt and a half nod before returning to staring at papers.
“Arrogant prick,” John mumbled to himself as he climbed the staircase to the second level where his small room was located. Once inside he got undressed from his uniform and walked around in his jocks humming along with the radio. He took out a bottle of rum from his travelling back and began drinking straight from the bottle.
He turned the music up a little as he took a few more swigs and lit a cigar. John peeked outside the narrow blinds to see his car parked unsuspectingly across the street blended in with the other beach dwellers.
He marveled at the beauty of his entire plan. There was no way to find his target, Albert Giuseppe, when the boss went underground, so he had to put in place a set of events. Firstly he had to find a lower level Giuseppe member, which he did at a pub called Willows, secondly he had to tip off Philip and unleash the monster onto them; knowing payback would be a guarantee on the Giuseppe’s behalf. Then all he had to do is wait until he had a day off guarding the office building and sit in his car; watching for anyone watching the office block. Eventually they came and staked the place out and John was ready. He casually followed them back to a heavily guarded street, which had to have the safe house in it; given the disguised nature of associates and soldiers in the area.
John turned on the small television and flicked through the channels bored; there wasn’t much else to do in the city of rain. The weatherman on the screen gave out tips to prepare for the upcoming storm season. From the open window in the small room John could still hear the ocean over the light patter of rain descending; it was very soothing. He sat stretched out on the reclining chair – drifting in and out of sleep as the television continued onto sport.
“Fuck what happened?” Brendan asked Rags as he held the mans chin and examined the gaps that were once teeth. The two men walked in the ghetto area of Contro that Rags called home.
“Giuseppe crew,” Rags said, cringing as he remembered the torture endured at the hands of the young sociopaths.
“Pricks! We’ve been worried sick about you,” Brendan said, concerned.
“Or worried about my lack of payments? I was waiting to be turned into compost.”
“Come on man. You really think after all you have done for me I’d let them whack you? I covered your tribute to Chuck,” Brendan said.
“I don’t know, I heard Angelo disappeared,” Rags said.
“Yeah fucking Al’s boys got him,” Brendan said, trying his best to sound agitated, “Besides the teeth though you do look good.”
Rags shrugged, “Thanks, I quit the shit – three weeks clean.”
“Good man,” Brendan said, shaking Rag’s hand.
“I don’t have the full thing for you, but it is a bit,” the dealer handed over an envelope to Brendan.
The lieutenant looked inside and smiled, “Smacked up, and you’re still a top earner. Man who are the guys who did this shit to you?”
“Sin and two other punks,” Rags spat.
Brendan laughed, “Sin, the brat who worked for Mario? He’s a fucking nobody.”
“Well they didn’t seem like nobodies,” Rags said, shocked Brendan was so cool about them.
“Know where they hang out?” Brendan asked.
Rags shook his head, “Nah.”
“Don’t worry about it. I will handle that shit,” Brendan said, reassuringly, “So keep on earning you got to eat to. Never let someone get in the way of you making money. Here take this,” Brendan bent down and lifted up his tracksuit pants; where he had a small pistol in a holster; he took it out and handed it to Rags.
Rags admired the piece in both hands, “Thanks.”
“Oh I forgot,” Brendan pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and wipe the gun clean of his own prints.
“Yeah I remember Sin, he was a good kid I guess. Why would you even bring him up though?” Chuck asked Brendan.
“I don’t think he’s some kid anymore,” Brendan said, biting into his sandwich.
“Oh really?” Chuck asked surprised.
Brendan swallowed his food, “Yeah so I’m thinking about getting my guys to take a look and placing some around Rag’s hood to keep the small timers safe.”
“Smart thinking,” Chuck said, proudly.
“Yeah we will flush them out. I’m sure they will come back for more information, I told them some bullshit stuff for Rags to feed them.”
“Did you take care of that other thing?” Chuck asked.
“Half and Half, Thomas is going to be there, but you know what it is like getting on contact with Rai – I could get a response from the president sooner,” Brendan laughed.
“Find out more about their meeting with Albert. Can’t have them getting too close.”
“You think Rai is going to tell me?” Brendan asked.
“Think of something. I got to take Leila shopping,” Chuck said, signaling the meeting over.
Chuck walked with his arm around Leila in the luxurious car yard shadowed by Tony. Another car full of Chuck’s minions waited on the street; looking for any signs of trouble; he always had a back up for his back up. Any hit team wouldn’t exceed three to four people; it would attract too much attention so he made sure his opponents were out gunned.
“I still can’t believe it…I can really choose anyone?” Leila tensed with excitement.
“Except that one,” Chuck said, pointing to a bright yellow sports car.
Leila nudged him playfully, “I was going to choose that one.”
“Just looking today?”
They turned to see the salesman approaching with a big friendly smile on his face. He looked no older than twenty and had his red hair combed back slick.
“No. We’re buying,” Chuck said.
The young mans freckled face turned bright red, “I’m Rex,” he offered his hand to Chuck who shook it.
“Chuck. She has her eye on that one,” Chuck said, pointing to the yellow sports car.
“Oh that one…she is a beauty. I call her fast yellow,” Rex said, nervously.
“Fast yellow?” Chuck raised an eyebrow.
Rex gulped, “Sorry, I’m not so good at this.”
“Great sales pitch,” Chuck said, sarcastically. Tony laughed and Leila nudged him again.
“I can help you,” A second older salesman said, as he walked between Rex and Chuck blocking the young man. “Arnold Arcen, salesman of the year – I can tell you everything about that car. Yellow would go perfectly with your wife here,” Arnold said and then launched into a spiel telling every detail of the car.
“Thanks Arnold, but Rex already told me all of that and he was first,” Chuck lied. With no further comments Arnold dashed away to his next potential customer; Tony, who merely shook his head sending Arnold to an elderly couple looking at an SUV.
Rex went bright red again and he nervously adjusted his tie, “Thanks mister Chuck.”
“Just Chuck. How many cars you sold?” Chuck asked.
Rex sighed, “Nearly sold one the other day.”
“Do you want to look at any others?” Chuck asked Leila.
She shook her head her heart was set on fast yellow.
“We’ll take that one, I’ll pay in cash and give me the most expensive add on features you can and anything else you can do to up the price,” Chuck gave Rex a fist pound.
The young man looked like he was about to explode with joy, “One second!” he ran as fast as he could to the office to retrieve the paper work along with all the other details.
“Good kid,” Chuck said.
“That is so sweet of you,” Leila kissed him on the cheek.
“I thought old Arnold nearly sold you a car,” Chuck said to Tony who was looking around at cars.
“Fuck Arnold,” Tony said.
Rex came running back paperwork in hand, “Let’s do this, man thank you so much you just saved my ass.”
“Rex, if anyone ever tries to cut your grass again or take food out of your mouth like that douche Arnold. Smack the fucker in the throat okay? Don’t ever let anyone take what is not his or hers from you. You are your own man and people will walk all over you in this world if you let them,” Chuck warned.
Rex nodded.
Chuck kissed Leila on the forehead, “Well I guess you better take this bad boy back to the office. I have another surprise for you tonight. I got to go with Tony now to run some errands, you okay to go by yourself?”
Leila jumped up and down. “I can’t wait.”
A/N: What do you think of 'The Driver' and also Brendan? Rags's reappearance and what is the surprise for Leila?