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Seven Demons

Page 10

by Aidan Truhen


  And for that what he needed—what he needed—

  He needed us.

  The Demons.

  Not to rob the bank.

  To try to rob the bank.

  And fail.

  Because if there is one thing everyone likes it is a hero story and for a good hero story you need a villain because a villain makes a headline.

  And with the right headlines he could turn the emptiness of the Kircheisen Festung into a frantic demand for space. His perceptual issue will become word of mouth.

  If Hans Eiger kills the Seven Demons as we try to rob his bank, his bank becomes the coolest fucking bank in the universe. The evil-chipmunk community will want his smooth stone corridors and his musty steel vaults more than they want sex or money or power. International dumb people will open accounts with him and keep nothing in their fucking vaults at all, just to say that they got an account with Die Festung before their brother-in-law did. So he called me and he sent some flunky to be Mr. Client ooh la la and romance my larceny and—

  I fell for it.

  I fell for it.

  I.

  Fell.

  For that.

  I cannot believe I fucking—well that Eiger would believe I would fall for that is—

  It is fucking offensive is what it is and that offense is in no way mitigated by the fact that he was right that is not the point I should not have and he should not have DREAMED that I would. Not EVER.

  It’s offensive.

  It’s offensive and it is also—he is also—he is fucking un-Swiss. Can you believe it? This whole shit is un-Swiss. He caused a hazard to the public in pursuit of profit and he got caught doing it. That is un-Swiss.

  But there’s more than that there is something that is beyond offensive it is fucking Hegelian in its ingenuity to piss me off is what.

  Do you know what is beyond offensive? That is a coffee trick. It is a commodities trick. Here is what you do you—and this is why you never invest in the fucking gold market because those fuckers barely do anything except this—you have a bunch of coffee for sale and you get a letter of intent to buy and then you turn around and show everyone that oh so confidential letter and you create a demand. You fuck the first buyer and the price goes up and you sell at the top and everyone else is left holding the fucking bag when the price resumes seasonal levels.

  “Sharkey this is all very cogent but I have to ask what made you look at Eiger in the first place?”

  “Well Jack there is a thing about Eiger.”

  “What thing?”

  “There is the thing about his being in the Legion and all.”

  “He was in the Legion he was this hard-ass we know this.”

  “Yeah but Jack it didn’t matter until now so you didn’t likely look much at his record—”

  “Just say it—”

  “Okay okay he was a recon scout sniper—”

  “FUCK—”

  “Jack please do not wave the detonator—”

  “Saul I’m not waving the—oh thank you yes I was—”

  “That is fine but Mr. Sharkey here has been most helpful Jack and it’s important to be seen to be reasonable under difficult circumstances is that not right Mr. Sharkey?”

  “Yes Skipper it absolutely—”

  Saul hands me back the detonator and asks Sharkey super-duper nicely not to call him that.

  Yeah haha. Very ha indeed but here is the thing Sharkey is right. Sharkey is right and—

  Hans Eiger.

  Hans Eiger has done that with his bank and the first buyer is me and he has fucked me in my Ukrainian.

  * * *

  —

  All around the world there are a bajillion differing perceptions of what you owe to your friends and loved ones and what is appropriate when someone fucks with them. These perceptions range from respecting their caritas and the forgiveness of all mankind to burning cities and putting heads on sticks but the points is there is a spectrum or in fact there is a like a complex three-dimensional space into which all these responses could be placed. What there is not is unanimity and no one gets to tell you what is appropriate to your grief your relationship your private inner knowledge that maybe things were not as they seemed or la la la. Right?

  But here this is not that, it is o so much simpler because yes Volodya was on some level my friend. Sure. That is to say I enjoyed his company and god help me his dubiously-sourced-dried-meat hobbyism and his grisly Soviet Industrial murder bullshit. I even loved that he carried his ridiculous out-of-date-ass rifle everywhere and we had to dress it up as a puppet one time whatever. He was an old fart and I liked him and he liked me, so to say he approved of my brand of awful and he liked that I liked his terrible jokes and his dubiously sourced dried meats and yeah maybe just maybe there was some kind of commonality of soul or I don’t know what.

  I am not a soul kinduva person. I don’t really do that stuff so I am not sad right now not like sad sad not like crying. I am totally in touch with my emotions but I am not the crying sort of person and I am not sad. I’m fine. I mean I’ll miss him but I am.

  Fine.

  Commonality of soul yeah sure but that is not relevant all that is data for your 3D grief graph and that graph is not part of my workflow now because yes right yes you heard me I said: workflow.

  Volodya worked for me. That was the nature of our relationship. It was professional.

  I have people and he was my people and we are—we were—our RELATIONSHIP yes fucker I said it twice don’t @ me—our relationship is of a professional and even what you would say like a military nature. We were in a killing business and he would have killed anyone—anyone at all in the universe—if I had said so.

  Probably not without some discussion and fartery unless the situation was exigent but still.

  And he would have—maybe he did and I do not know but that also is not relevant NOT relevant and certainly it is not emotionally relevant or it would be emotionally relevant IF we our relationship was of the sort where that sort of thing was itself relevant but see above—he would have stepped in front of a bullet for me because he was combat and I was leadership and in the end that is what it is.

  And reciprocally there is stuff. My Person stuff. Like debts and obligations and interestingly those obligations are super consistent across cultures.

  So when I say this it is not like an irrational response to emotional pain at all it is totally rational it is a professional matter is all.

  Completely professional.

  Mr. Eiger.

  O Mr. Eiger.

  I am rethinking my approach to this job sir. I am considering a new vision of our onward relationship with certain stakeholders in the wider community. Certain stakeholders who have taken a negatively aspected route in re our privacy and the confidentiality of our new venture. It is not likely Mr. Eiger I am afraid it is not likely at all that everyone will retain their present employment status in the new iteration of the profit track. I’m afraid some positions will be redundant and certain people—yes even some senior executives—will have to seek a new level they will have to be managed out. People with the wrong attitude will not make the cut they will be downsized. I don’t like to say it I do not but here is the honest truth in terms. In the argot. The blunt truth is that it won’t be a soft transition. In the end it has to be acknowledged—well. Sometimes there just aren’t any good remedies for that moment in the corporate life cycle and sometimes you can’t give someone—with the best will in the world you cannot give someone the ending they would like.

  I don’t know how else to put this and it is totally your choice that this is where we are—your choice from start to finish do please remember that as we embrace the forward aspect of our dealings—I’m just saying in the end there’s no way around it:

  Heads will roll, Mr. Eiger.


  Heads will roll.

  * * *

  —

  Sharkey is still staring at me and I’m obviously not going to take him home with me. I mean what would I do with another mouth to feed?

  So I get some Saran Wrap and I tape the cut end to the floor and I tape the roll to his hands.

  Sharkey says: “What the fuck are you doing?”

  “Well Sharkey I am leaving now and I do not want to blow up your balls.”

  “Oh that’s great Jack I really—”

  “But at the same time I do not entirely trust you to be measured about this situation when the adrenal glands start working their mojo and so on. All kinds of weird biochemical shit is about to break loose in your body Sharkey and your decision making is going to suck so I am first of all going to urge you to do NOTHING for twenty-four hours and then I am going to explain to you what’s happening here okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “So first of all I am putting the phone I am using as a detonator—which is still live okay so please don’t—okay—in the other room. All you have to do is wait until someone comes in and get them to switch it off. Then you are all good. And I am going to call your cleaning service in about an hour and then you’ll be fine and as I say maybe just take a personal day. But in the meantime Sharkey I cannot emphasize this enough do NOT stand up. If you stand up the static charge on the Saran Wrap will almost certainly induce a current in the detonator cables and your balls will explode.”

  “…”

  “True fact.”

  “…”

  “…”

  “Saran Wrap will do that?”

  “It is science Sharkey I am dating a scientist.”

  I walk to the train station and honestly I halfway expect to hear the sound of Sharkey’s balls exploding but I do not so I assume he has abruptly become wise. I call his cleaning service and book them in for five-ish, which is the first time they can make it today. I get back on the train.

  Man, Europe is just totally civilized this is the only way to travel.

  * * *

  —

  Doc says: “It does not matter. We do the job.”

  “But Doc we have no client—”

  “Of course we have a client.”

  “Who tried to kill us. It was a setup.”

  “It does not matter if the client never wanted the job done. We rob the bank. We bring our employer exactly what he asked for. If he then refuses to pay us that is a problem for him but we—we are the Seven Demons. The robbing of the bank follows inexorably from our hiring as day follows night and one breath follows the next as death follows life. That is all that exists in the world for any of us because we are the Seven Demons. That is what we do and what we are and it is what Volodya died for and that means something to me. Is that clear?”

  “But—”

  “Is. That. Clear.”

  “Yes Doc.”

  “I will rob the bank. I am entirely capable of doing that as you well know. You will go and be as loud as possible so that everyone is paying attention to you and while that is happening—”

  “Wait I’m the distraction?”

  “You are the right hand everyone watches. I am the left one, which empties the pocket.”

  “I do not want to be the diversion.”

  “I know but Price when all this is done there you will be. Everyone will be used to you and you…you are the razor blade taped between the fingers.”

  “…Yes.”

  “You will make a miracle for Volodya. For all of us. For me. You will fully express our disappointment.”

  “I can do that I guess.”

  “You can. The liquid nitrogen wedding was one of the most awful things I have ever heard of and that is what I want from you right now. Only more so. Like that but with actual malice Price. I want it to hurt.”

  “Are you…okay?”

  “No I am not. Do you understand me? I am not okay.”

  “Yes.”

  “Make a horrible plan Price because if you don’t I will.”

  “Okay.”

  “And I do not have your restraint.”

  “I’m sorry I think you said you do not have my restraint?”

  “Please think about this carefully and realize as I say it that I appreciate the magnitude of the assertion and I am factoring into it the fullest understanding of who and what you are: No. I do not.”

  * * *

  —

  Doc buys a giant electronic whiteboard and writes homer at the top. It is the HOMER board. There is a column for stuff that we need and another for stuff we have dealt with and another for stuff that we haven’t.

  I write fucking horrible revenge on the agenda section of the board. Doc says yes quite so. Then she makes a new page on the board for robbing the bank and everyone writes a list of things they would need if they were going to rob the bank their own way.

  Saul:

  Full architectural and system diagrams

  Pressure diving equipment/biomedical suits times seven

  Two commandos

  Three bulldozers

  Demolitions and entry options tbc

  Mi-26 “flying crane” helicopter or best option

  Saul says: “Jack I feel like I should say this is not a good way to do this. Like do this head-on and you are in a land war for like seven hundred miles of escape route.”

  “That would be super cool though.”

  “It would be a cool movie Jack it would not be a cool plan.”

  “I am very disappointed in you Saul with your common sense and your shitty practical approach.”

  “You’re welcome Jack.”

  “Doc Saul is fitting in too well can we kill him?”

  “No Price we cannot Charlie and I have spoken of it and we find him aesthetically appropriate also he shares the babysitting.”

  “What baby—oh. Oh haha okay we will ignore the unkind implication that I am an infant. And proceed show me your stuff.”

  “Aw boss I am moved but I think Doc would object—”

  “Charlie—”

  “Hey you are all embarrassed by the sexy talk that is sweet—”

  “Doc help me—”

  “She’s right Price it is kinda sweet—”

  “Thank you Doc I think it is sweet that you think it is sweet—”

  “Come ON man that is literally what I said but you guys are bumping uglies so—”

  “Hush Charlie your crime parents are talking—”

  “Ew no I do not want to have come out of Doc’s crime vagina—”

  “…”

  “…”

  “…”

  “…If anyone ever mentions even the notion of my possessing such an organ again that person will immediately die is that clear?”

  “…”

  “…”

  “…”

  “…Yup crystal.”

  “Yup.”

  “Yup.”

  “Oh yeah.”

  “Lucille.”

  “Then I will proceed.”

  Doc:

  Three large pigs (live)

  Neo-scopolamine (Belgian Heverlee variant) 200 doses

  Aerosol dispersal unit

  Tranquilizer guns

  Gun guns

  One Festung security employee (high rank) to be secured before visit

  Others to be acquired on-site

  And one helicopter

  Charlie:

  Supercomputer time

  Detailed base code for Die Festung

  Caffeinated beverages

  Alcohol

  Cocaine

  Water bed

  Norwegian men’s biathlon te
am

  Supercomputer time

  Trunk broadband access

  Fast car

  Awesome dress

  Casino chips

  Walther PPK with silencer

  Custom genetically tailored MDMA variant

  Eye patch

  Snakes

  Supercomputer time

  Lightsaber

  X-wing

  Droids

  Metallic swimwear

  Supercomputer time

  Hot tub

  35 mm film projector

  35 mm print of Koyaanisqatsi

  Moty’s auto hyper lubricant (Thailand)

  Romy Tarangul

  Supercomputer time—

  “Charlie I sense your attention is straying—”

  “No boss my plan is just real baroque is all—”

  “Okay carry on—”

  “Naw I guess that’ll do it.”

  “…Ewwkay.”

  Rex:

  Eight times Massive Ordnance Penetrator (MOP)

  Eight times Massive Ordnance Air Blast Bomb (MOAB)

  Eight C-130 Hercules aircraft for delivery

  Marshmallows

  “Rex I am not certain that the contents of the vault will survive your plan there. Also the marshmallows will burn. A lot.”

  “Oh I was not going to cook them sir I like them as God intended.”

  “Okay but how do we complete the mission Rex?”

  “I figure we just get this stuff then tell them we have it and what we’re gonna do with it and they can either open the fucking doors or we’ll do it and then go with Saul’s exit plan.”

  “…”

  “…”

  “That is the most grown-up thing anyone has said Rex and that is alarming.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Seriously Rex I got to respect this approach it is real Demony.”

 

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