by Samuel Fires
“Wouldn’t want to find out we’ve been cheated.”
Something told Scott that he was just going to have to go through the motions.
The leader gestured to Scott’s two passengers to open the package. A part of him told him he wasn’t really surprised to see the contents.
Scott and Andrea had experimented with pot at school and knew some of their peers who were into more... extreme substances. But this went beyond anything Scott had ever seen. Inside the package were dozens upon dozens of vacuum-sealed bags containing all manner of drugs.
But he didn’t have time to be shocked because the lone woman in the group pulled out a weapon and pointed at the men standing closest to them, backing away from them as she did.
“Armed police! We’ve got this whole building surrounded. Drop any weapons you’ve got and get on the ground. Now!”
At first, the group looked, perplexed. The leader even scoffed at her attempted bravado but only until a group of armed cops burst into the room, rifles pointed at the gathering.
Scott froze in place, struggling to make sense of what was happening. Then, he ran. The officer who had been passing herself off as one of the crew took off after him.
He sought refuge within the maze of abandoned shipping crates outside, trying to keep his heart from bursting through his chest. What the hell was happening? His whole world was imploding. He had gone from what he hoped was a relatively innocent courier job to being at the center of a major drug bust.
I can get through this. Maybe they haven’t had a chance to look at my face. Maybe I can still get out of here, come clean to Andrea, or maybe just not tell her anything.
As he tried to gather his thoughts about a possible escape route, Scott picked up a crowbar lying nearby and gripped it tight. He didn’t know whether he was going to use it. He wasn’t a violent person. He’d never hit anyone in his life. But once again, he found himself asking how far he was prepared to go to get his life back.
“Armed police!” The words rang out through the crates like an echo and Scott found himself gripping the crowbar, wielding it like a club, feeling the weight of the cold metal.
The undercover officer stood at the end of the aisle, weapon raised. He was hopelessly outmatched.
But knowing that the only alternative was a lengthy prison sentence, he charged towards her, weapon raised. “Stay back! I don’t want to ...”
The words caught in his throat, like the bullet that lodged in his stomach.
Scott crumpled to the ground, the crowbar falling to the ground with a clatter. His entire lower torso felt like it was on fire.
As the world began to slip away, Scott vaguely wondered whether he even wanted to wake up, knowing what would follow.
CHAPTER 4
Scott found himself wishing he had been killed outright.
He wished the undercover officer had shot him enough times to put him down for good.
Once Scott had recovered enough to stand trial, he was overwhelmed by the mountain of evidence stacked against him.
He hadn’t just been arrested for being in possession of illegal substances. He was being dragged over the coals as the supposed mastermind of some widespread operation.
As if overnight, an abundance of evidence had materialised, photographs of him arriving at the cars, delivering the packages covered with his fingerprints, not to mention the trawl through his bank accounts and cell phone records. And the two criminals who had travelled in the car with him that fateful night had pointed to him as their boss, stating that they were there under his instructions. Many nights passed while Scott kicked himself for his blind stupidity, in the realization that Gideon must have planned for him to take the role of a fall guy right from the get-go.
Of course, all the warning signs had been there along the way. The clandestine meetings, the recurring avoidances, the questionable packages, it all added up. It broke his heart that he had woken up too late to the plain fact that he had traded common sense for a paycheck.
Scott tried to protest his innocence. Of course he claimed that he had nothing to do with whatever they were trying to pin on him. In court, he had desperately pleaded for them to find Gideon, the man who had set him up. But beyond a physical description and a name, he didn’t have anything to offer them. The jury seemed undecided as to whether he was a poor liar or a deluded fantasist.
He had not seen Andrea at all during the trial. In some ways, it was for the best. He didn’t want her, and Milo, dragged through the mud.
The judge had been all fire and brimstone when he handed down the sentence. Ten years. Ten years of his life that had instantly been snatched away.
In some ways, Gideon setting him up as the head of an underground syndicate had done wonders for his reputation. Many of the inmates had been hesitant to approach him, as though he was a wild dog about to pounce on them. Scott figured he might as well keep up the act, if only to make it through prison in one piece.
Andrea had not been in contact at all since that fateful night. She had managed to avoid the attention of the media despite their persistence. He wondered what had become of her.
The answer came three months into Scott’s incarceration.
As she sat on the other side of the glass partition, Scott noticed how she had lost weight and there were heavy bags and dark circles under her eyes. He hated that he was the cause of her obviously not being able to sleep well any more. She looked like a shell of the Andrea he had come to know and love.
“Where’s Milo?” asked Scott, already feeling the emotional strain of knowing that these visits would be the only contact he would have with his son over the next ten years.
“You really think I’m going to bring our nine-year-old son to a place like this?” she asked incredulously.
“Fair point,” admitted Scott with a heavy heart. Not wanting to focus on the prolonged separation from his son, Scott asked, “How have you been doing?”
“We had to move away during the trial. Hard to call your place a home when you’re constantly worried about some shithead putting bricks through your window because your husband’s a fucking drug trafficker. I had to leave the house and my job. We’ve moved to my parents’ house because it’s the only place where we still have some anonymity. For the moment anyway.”
“Andrea, I know I made a mistake. I’ve fucked up big time and I’m truly sorry I put you in this position, but I promise you, whatever they’re telling you about me, it’s not true. I’ve been framed,” Scott pleaded.
“You know what, Scott? I don’t even know what to believe anymore. I know you lied to me about losing your job, and I know you’ve definitely been lying about everything else you’ve been up to over the last few months. I honestly don’t even recognize you anymore.”
“Don’t say that, Andrea. I’m still the same guy you met in high school.” He leaned forward, placing his hand against the glass, wanting to smash through the thin layer and hold her. “I know I’ve been an idiot, and I’ve definitely made mistakes. But I’m not guilty of even half the shit they say I’m guilty of. And I’m going to fight this every step of the way. I don’t know how long it takes, but I promise you, when I get out of here, you, me, and Milo. We’re going to be a proper family again.”
For a moment, Scott assumed his heartfelt plea had worked on her as the tears started rolling down Andrea’s eyes. “You seriously think we have a future after you just threw it away? I cannot bring myself to even look at you anymore, never mind think about having any sort of future with you.”
“Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for you and for Milo. So that he would have a good life growing up.”
“Well now, I’m going to have to carry that responsibility single-handedly thanks to you.”
Scott’s face lost all color. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that you and me, that’s over. I can’t have you in my life.” Andrea’s eyes welled with tears. “I can’t have you hanging over us like a fucking shadow
.”
“You don’t mean that,” Scott said, desperately. “I’m your husband. Milo’s dad.”
“Oh, yeah, some great father you turned out to be.” Andrea raised her voice, prompting some of the other visitors in the room to look in her direction. “The last thing I want is Milo following your example.”
“Andrea, please,” begged Scott, fighting to stay composed despite threatening tears. “Just listen to my side of the story.”
“And what is your side, Scott?”
Scott opened his mouth to retort, but he’d told her everything, more than once, and knew she had made up her mind not to believe him and that their life together was over and there was nothing he could say to change that.
That visit was the last time Scott ever saw her. He tried calling her and writing letters, but she had erased her and Milo from his life.
It wasn’t until Scott had been inside for a year that he realized he was all alone. His life as he knew it was over.
A string of possibilities ran through his head, including suicide. But despite his somewhat self-destructive behaviours and cavalier attitude, he had never been one to check out early.
As he sat in his cell, listening to the doors clanging shut, and considered his options. One thing he knew for certain was that he would never take such a stupid risk ever again. In fact, he would never trust anyone ever again.
By the time morning came round, Scott had decided that he would get out of prison. He would learn how to survive. And despite the odds stacked against him, he was determined to reunite with his wife and son.
Once he got out, he would find Gideon. No one was that well hidden. He would find Gideon and kill him. He didn’t care how long it took, but he would find the man who had taken everything from him and put him in the ground.
CHAPTER 5
Scott surprised himself with how quickly he adapted to surviving. He figured out the key groups and individuals to ally with in prison, doing favors for the right people and keeping himself in the guards’ good books.
The ongoing bartering allowed him a fair level of access to the criminal underground on the outside. Scott was fed snippets of information which together painted a very clear picture.
It had turned out that he was far from the first person Gideon had screwed over, even though he had managed to cover his tracks.
Scott memorized every single detail from the information he accumulated. Over the rest of his time in jail, only two things kept him going, the thought of being reunited with his wife and son and the chance to put Gideon in the ground.
But his hopes for a reunion with his wife and son were cruelly dashed. The inmates who had helped him keep tabs on Andrea and Milo had discovered that Andrea was seeing someone else, and that the relationship was quite serious. Milo had even taken to calling the guy ‘dad’.
Over the years, Scott came to be known as a model prisoner, to the point he had many inmates and guards supporting his appeals for release.
When he was finally released after his ten years, he felt the change in the atmosphere, as though he was stepping out into a different world.
Now that he was out, Scott had two choices. He could either head to the house where Andrea and Milo were supposedly living, or he could head to the address he had been given for Gideon.
His first thought was to see Andrea and to try and build bridges. And Milo... he was nineteen now and Scott had missed his entire childhood, unable to see his son make that transition to becoming a man. So many experiences he had wanted to have, but never could. He had yet seen Milo as an adult and wondered if he would recognize him if he saw him.
But then he remembered that Andrea had made it very clear he would be blocked from their memories. And if Andrea was as good as her word, there was no doubt that she had spent the past decade raising Milo to hate the very idea of his father, or had just refused to talk about him. He wasn’t sure which would be worse. The process of reconciliation would be a long and painstaking one.
Now Gideon... Gideon was the reason for all of Scott’s suffering. And God knows how many more people had been tangled up in Gideon’s web of bullshit.
Scott was well aware of the risk he was taking. If anybody caught on, had the slightest inclination of what he was doing, he’d be heading straight back to prison. Only this time, there’d be no release date.
As he made his way across Los Angeles, the closer he got to Gideon’s address, the more Scott became aware he wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing. How was he going to kill Gideon? Was it going to be a quick and clean kill? Or would he try and draw out his suffering for as long as possible? When the moment came, could he even kill him? Would his nerve desert him?
Scott had never killed anyone before, except in his dreams. Fantasising about killing Gideon in a variety of creative – and admittedly gruesome – ways.
Scott tried to steel himself, convincing himself that he wasn’t just doing this because of what Gideon had done to him, but to make sure that no one else would ever suffer from the man’s greed.
Finally, he reached the apartment.
In some respects, he felt a stab of disappointment. Despite the single meeting, Scott had never forgotten Gideon’s immaculate appearance. He imagined he would be living in a mansion or a penthouse, but from the outside, it looked like a pretty ordinary apartment building. Nothing remotely special. So... ordinary.
Looking up at the sky which appeared to be clouding over, Scott entered the building. As he climbed the stairs, Scott noticed how rundown the entire place looked, as though it was silently begging someone to knock it down.
Finally, he reached the floor he was looking for. The paint on the door was peeling. Scott knocked.
“Who is it?” came a voice from the inside.
“Courier” shouted Scott, wincing from the implausible lie.
“I don’t remember ordering anything.”
“Well, I’ve got a package here with your name on it, sir.”
In what felt like an eternity, Scott once again contemplated a possible murder weapon. Would he be able to get his hands on anything like a kitchen knife? Maybe Gideon would have a stash of weapons he could steal? Otherwise, he’d have to make do with his hands as the murder weapons.
The door opened a crack and a weary-looking eye peered out... before instantly widening upon glimpsing Scott’s face. The door opened fully, and Scott was left wondering whether he had the wrong address.
It was definitely Gideon. But he was no longer dressed as the suave businessman Scott had believed him to be. He was dishevelled and unshaven, wearing a greasy shirt and a pair of jogging pants. He had gained a noticeable amount of weight since he had last seen him.
“Come on in,” Gideon gestured for Scott to follow. Scott wondered whether this was some kind of trap, that Gideon was trying to lure him into a false sense of security.
But a glimpse at the interior convinced him this wasn’t the case. It was as if the decorator couldn’t decide whether this was a clandestine hideaway for an underworld fixer or a mancave. There were caches of guns and grenades lying in unopened crates, much like the ones Scott had transported a decade earlier. Amidst the weapons were towering stacks of pizza boxes and crumpled beer cans.
Gideon opened a beer and held the can to his lips, taking a long swig then holding the can up. “You want one before we get on with this?”
Scott slumped into a couch that had seen better days.
“You’re presumably somebody I fucked over, right?”
“You serious?” demanded Scott, outraged. “I lost ten fucking years of my life because of you, rotting in a prison away from my family. And you can’t even fucking remember me?”
Gideon leaned forward, studying Scott with blinking eyes and Scott thought he was going to have some profound moment of recognition... before letting loose a loud belch. “Sorry” said Gideon, beating his chest. “Needed to get it out.” He gave a slovenly smile. “I’m sorry, I’ve fucked over my fair share of people
. You’ll have to be more specific.”
Scott opened his mouth to speak, but Gideon interrupted.
“I’m pretty sure you have had some big, long speech in your head about how I ruined your life and now you’re here to send me flying into the next world so that I never hurt anyone else ever again. You’ll probably say ‘this is for someone close to you’ as you snuff me out.”
“Why me?” asked Scott. “You could have chosen anyone to be your fall guy, so what made you go for me?”
Gideon sighed. “It was just a happy coincidence. Random choice. It didn’t have to be you, it could have been you or any Average Joe recently out of work and desperate for money. We didn’t go looking for you specifically, we just... looked at the legion of poor bastards getting laid off and picked you out of a hat.”
This was too much for Scott to take in. It was one thing having to live with the fact that his life had turned out the way it had because of his own stupidity. It was something else to know that his life had been ruined on a whim. And Gideon’s blasé attitude towards the whole thing only served to infuriate him even more.
“Now, are you going to give me some prepared speech? Or are you going to do us both a favor and skip to the part where you just kill me?”
CHAPTER 6
Scott gaped at Gideon. “What?”
“Well, I’m presuming you didn’t come all the way here for a beer and a catch-up.” Gideon took another swig. “All I ask is that you just make it quick. None of that drawn-out crap. Considering I’m giving you an open goal, seems only fair.”
“Is this some kind of fucking windup?” He hadn’t entirely known what he was expecting, but at least some kind of resistance.
“No windup. If this was a joke, I might as well be the fucking punchline.” Gideon leaned back on the sofa, his face solemn. “You see, all this time, I thought I was untouchable. That I was providing a service that would make me irreplaceable. Then... it turns out I’m just as expendable as you. Only they didn’t go to the trouble of setting me up for a trial of the century like they probably did with you. They just... stopped sending me messages. A silent way of saying, ‘your services are no longer required, get fucked’. They didn’t even have to worry about snuffing me out. They knew that if any people I’ve screwed over caught wind of me, they’d come after me. As is the case with you. I figured it would catch up to me sooner or later. Took a little longer than I thought, but it happened. Here you are, like a tatty Grim Reaper.”
