Elite 2: The Wrong Side of Revolution

by Joseph C. Anthony

  He gestured to the two considerably younger individuals who sat to his left. They apparently felt no need to stand on ceremony for their introductions.

  “This is my daughter Layla,” Benze said, placing a hand on the shoulder of the young, blonde co-ed next to him, “and my nephew Tommy. He looks after me.”

  Layla managed to lift her heavily made-up face from her phone just long enough to offer a brief smile. Tommy just nodded with a forced half-smile, clearly trying to appear intimidating.

  Though older, Benze seemed like a man who was still capable of providing a lot of pain to anyone who crossed him, but there was little doubt that “Nephew Tommy” was his hired muscle. Tommy looked as equally a shady character as his uncle, but with far less personality. Daniel guessed Benze kept him around because Tommy followed orders without ever questioning them. To Daniel, Tommy appeared to be an empty shell incapable of independent thought.

  To Daniel’s surprise, very little of the dinner conversation revolved around business. Instead, the two parties got to know each other a little better.

  Demérs opened the conversation by telling his story of graduating from Ball State before making some immediate inroads with the right financial advisors who had helped him make some very wise investments that ultimately paid off big for him.

  Benze told his story next. He was apparently born in West Germany and his parents brought his family to the states when he was still very young. His father opened a bike shop shortly after they arrived in Boston and was able to scrape up just enough money to send his son Roger to college where he earned a degree in marketing. Benze used his degree to build his father’s business until a larger company offered to buy it for two million dollars.

  “That was a lot of money back then,” Benze commented.

  In his old age Benze’s father took just enough for he and his wife to live out the rest of their lives comfortably, and gave the rest to Benze and his sister. Benze then used his half on a multitude of business adventures throughout his eventful life. He now owned a large estate several miles outside of the city.

  “The one that brought me to Chicago was some run-down old Jazz club,” Benze explained. “The club itself was a hole, but we shot a ton of stag films in the back. Made a killing off those damn things!”

  Layla let out a sound of disgust and made an equally appalled face. Daniel imagined she had heard that story more times than she could ever want to.

  “Sorry darling,” Benze said apologetically to his daughter.

  Jordan’s eyes immediately shot down to her salad as she instinctively picked up the pace of her eating.

  From there Benze was able to convince Layla to string enough words together to talk about how she had recently completed her sophomore year at Arizona State, but had decided to take a year off to “clear her head.”

  Jordan then went on about her first year of teaching at her new school. Though not quite as interesting as Benze’s story, Daniel found Jordan’s to be the most enjoyable of them all.

  Not so surprisingly, no one seemed at all concerned about Daniel’s endeavors, or Tommy’s either for that matter. This made Daniel wonder why he was even there and not out in the car with Salvador. That lasted only until he heard the server utter the words “Eggplant Manicotti” and place a plate full of delectable Italian cuisine down in front of him.

  “Oh hell yeah,” Daniel blurted out involuntarily.

  He instinctively looked up in mild embarrassment to find everyone at the table, including the server, staring at him. Jordan’s eyes were wide as if to ask “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “Daniel,” she spoke, “it’s just Italian food. Relax.”

  Daniel stared back, deciding on the response that would go the furthest in smoothing over a rather embarrassing situation.

  “I love Italian food,” Daniel shot back in an intentionally overdramatic fashion.

  Benze let out a big belly laughed at Daniel’s response.

  “Me too kid!” He exclaimed. “I’m glad someone else gets as excited about it as I do!”

  He picked up his glass of wine and extended it toward Daniel. Daniel picked up his own glass and clanked it against the old man’s.

  Benze’s laugh was loud enough that it had garnered the attention of those sitting around them. Daniel was just grateful it had taken the attention off of his own statement.

  “Just wait until I get my hands on a cannoli,” Daniel added, playing along with Benze’s eccentric nature.

  “I like this kid! Where’d you find him?” Benze asked.

  “He is Elite’s finest,” Demérs commented in a tone that was clearly intended to inspire Benze to calm down a bit.

  “Oh yeah, Elite. I’ve heard of them. That’s Chuck Richfield’s group over there, right?” Benze inquired, turning his attention back over to Daniel.

  Daniel swallowed his first bite of his dinner a little sooner than planned. “Yeah,” he answered.

  It scared Daniel a bit that Benze not only knew about Elite but about Richfield himself—especially the fact that he knew him by “Chuck.”

  A few bites into the main course Daniel noticed that Tommy had been staring at him almost the entire time. This made Daniel feel incredibly uncomfortable not because he was intimidated by it, but because he found Tommy to be incredibly creepy.

  Finally Daniel had enough, and as he took a bite of his manicotti he began staring right back at him. Once he swallowed his bite he said, “You alright there Tommy?”

  This caused the others at the table to stop what they were doing and turn their attention to the two body guards sitting across from one another at the table.

  Tommy was a creepy looking dude. He had thin, dark, moppy hair which sat flat atop his head, and thin black eyebrows. His face was pale and thin which accentuated his narrow jaw and cheek bones with thin white lips and a narrow nose. He looked nothing like his uncle or cousin.

  His eeriest features were his deeply sunken eyes which seemed to be permanently cast in shadow by his swollen brow line.

  “I’m always okay,” he responded.

  Daniel could only counter with a confused look which begged the question, “What the hell are you talking about?”

  It was clear to Daniel that a battle of wits was out of the question so instead he did his best to ignore Tommy’s gaze through the rest of the meal.

  Not a moment too soon Daniel found himself back out on the street as he, Jordan and Demérs were bidding their dinner guests farewell as a car pulled up to carry Benze, Layla and Tommy back to their suburban estate.

  While Demérs finalized plans with Benze for their meeting at his estate on Monday, Jordan turned to talk to Daniel.

  “How you feelin’?” She asked him.

  “That cannoli was flipping fantastic,” he responded, placing both hands on his belly as he arched his back to stretch.

  Jordan chuckled. “I’m glad you liked it. It’s nice to be able to go out to dinner with you again. You always did appreciate good food.”

  Daniel smiled fondly, remembering all of the good times the two had sharing meals together in the past.

  “Yeah,” he responded as if just realizing it.

  After the Benze family auto pulled away, Demérs rejoined the two of them.

  “I suppose I should call Salvador,” he said, pulling his phone out of his inner jacket pocket.

  “Nooo,” Jordan countered almost whiningly. “It’s Friday night and not even nine-thirty. Let’s go have a nightcap at Rudy’s.”

  Demérs shrugged and turned to follow Jordan who was already started down the sidewalk. “Guess we’re having a nightcap at Rudy’s,” he said to no one in particular.

  Daniel followed taking in the atmosphere that he had sorely missed since moving to the Elite complex. It was Friday night in the Windy City and the Theater District was alive with activity. He missed living downtown, and he made sure to appreciate every moment he had while he was down there. The sound of the L-train in the back
ground made the experience only that much sweeter.

  It was no more than a ten-minute walk to Rudy’s, and Daniel smiled as they walked into the vaguely familiar old bar. He had been there a couple of times in the past with his former co-workers. The swanky décor always gave him the feeling of being in the sixties, drinking in one of those classy joints where they cursed the “goddamn hippies.”

  As they sat down the bartender immediately came over to take their drink order. Jordan ordered some cocktail Daniel had never heard of and Demérs ordered a glass of scotch he had also never heard of. When the bartender turned to Daniel, he opened his mouth to speak but Demérs cut him off.

  “Don’t worry,” he said to him, patting him on the forearm, “you’re off-duty for the night.”

  Daniel smiled in false-appreciation as he never for a moment considered not ordering a drink. “I’ll have the Founder’s Dirty Bastard, please,” Daniel told the waiter, ordering the scotch ale.

  “Oh, they have Founders here?” Jordan asked instantly, the name of the craft brewery out of Grand Rapids, Michigan piquing her interest. It was one of their favorites when they used to go out for beers together.

  “Yeah, gotta have one,” Daniel responded. “You don’t drink beer anymore?” He asked her.

  “I do,” she responded, a bit defensive in tone, “I just found a couple of mixed drinks that I like also.”

  After the bartender returned and they enjoyed the primary sips of their beverages, Demérs turned to speak to Daniel. “So what was the feeling you got from Benze?”

  Daniel thought for a moment, as he hadn’t actually taken the time to construct a proper opinion yet. Then the obvious question came to him.

  “Does he have any mob ties?”

  Demérs chewed on the question a few beats before responding.

  “Why is that any of your concern?” He retorted in suspicion.

  The response slightly irritated Daniel. “I don’t really care personally,” he responded intensely yet quietly. “Mob guys have a certain M-O. If I’m going to properly protect you from them, I need to know what I’m up against.

  “Don’t worry, I respect all that client confidentiality bullshit and I’m not going to run off and tell anyone about who you’re dealing with. I just need to know who it is I’m dealing with.”

  Demérs considered Daniel’s statement, his glass of scotch firmly in his right hand. Finally, he made the decision to come clean to Daniel.

  “The mob is nothing compared to the guys Benze is connected to.”

  With that, Demérs downed the rest of his neat scotch and slammed the empty glass down on the bar. “I’m gonna need more scotch.”

  Chapter 4

  Daniel awoke the next morning to faint sounds of movement coming from the kitchen. He first heard dishes clanking, and then a muffled version of Demérs’ voice, followed by Jordan’s. He then heard the front door of the apartment slam shut.

  Daniel rolled over to look at the digital readout of the clock on the night stand next to his bed. It read “9:30.” He rolled onto his back and rubbed his eyes. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept in so late. He imagined it was in part due to the consumption of alcohol the night before, but also to the fact that the bed he had slept in was the most comfortable he could ever remember lying in.

  He sat up and put his feet on the floor before attempting to shake away the drowsiness that had carried over from his extensive slumber. He lifted his head and found himself staring at black wall, lit up only by the dim glow from the digital clock on the other side of the bed. He reached up with his right hand and found the control panel on the wall. He felt for the top button, pressing down and holding it. Suddenly the wall became progressively lighter, as it began allowing more and more diffused light to pour through.

  He then stood up and turned, remembering the window on the other side of the room. He pressed another button on the control panel and the opaque window shade in front of the window began to move upward, allowing the morning light to spill through. Daniel moved around to the window and looked out at the Chicago skyline. Gordon Demérs certainly had it made.

  After admiring the view from his window for a few more seconds, he heard the crash of dishes being dropped into the sink and turned to leave the room. He slid open a section of the now white, backlit wall and walked out into the main section of the loft.

  The loft area of Demérs’ apartment was nicer than Daniel could have ever imagined. To the right of the spiral staircase that led up from the living room was a large, open space that Demérs had converted into a billiard room. In the center of the room sat a beautiful mahogany billiard table with red felt and real leather pockets. Above it hung an antique stain glass light that reminded Daniel of something out of an old saloon, and the table was surrounded by blood red leather furniture.

  Scattered around the ceiling were strategically placed vents that were specially designed to carry cigar smoke out of the room, and on the wall opposite the staircase was a large flat-screen TV.

  The room Daniel had slept in was off to the left of the staircase. It was a small, cubby-like area that had been separated from the rest of the loft by a sliding wall that reminded Daniel of the types he had seen in Asian buildings on TV. Only this wall was much heavier than the paper thin walls they used in Asia, and it was designed so that the user could control just how opaque or translucent they wished the wall to be using a special control panel.

  In the room there was just enough space for a queen sized bed, a night stand, and like with all of the other rooms in Demérs’ penthouse, a large flat screen across from the bed. There was also a rather large window on the back wall that overlooked the cityscape.

  Just outside the bedroom and to the right was a small guest bathroom with a sink, toilet, and a stall shower.

  Daniel stepped over to the railing which overlooked the first floor of the apartment and found Jordan standing over the sink in the kitchen on the far side of the room. She wore a dark purple sports bra under a pink, rather loose fitting tank top and black yoga pants. Her auburn hair was pulled back tight into a ponytail and it appeared as if she were prepared to work out, though one never could tell with Jordan. She often wore workout clothes as a casual outfit which seemed to be the trend among a number of women these days.

  Daniel then turned and started to make his way down the spiral staircase which was when Jordan first noticed him.

  “How’d you sleep?” she asked him when he was halfway down the staircase.

  “Amazing,” he responded.

  When he got to the bottom of the staircase Daniel reached up to stretch in an effort to further wake himself up. As she placed her last dish into the dishwasher, she peered up at Daniel mid-stretch.

  “I’m going to have to get on your workout program,” she commented. It was the first time she had seen him without a shirt on.

  Daniel chuckled and peered down at himself, placing his hands on his chiseled physique. He often forgot just how extreme a transformation he had undergone in the last several months.

  “It is an incredibly unique one, I promise you that,” he responded.

  “Well I’m going to trying to get as close as I can,” Jordan said as she walked out of the kitchen area and toward the back hallway. “Feel free to make yourself some breakfast. You have free-run of the kitchen—and if you need to work out feel free to join me in the gym.”

  There’s a gym too? Daniel thought to himself. He could see why Demérs wanted this place so much.

  “Where is Gordon?” Daniel found himself asking aloud as though Demérs had been referenced in his conversation with Jordan and not just in his head.

  “He had to run to the office for a bit. You’re with me today,” she shouted back to Daniel as she continued walking down the hallway before turning right into a room halfway down.

  Daniel found himself staring as she strode away from him in her yoga pants. She wasn’t quite as cut as Norma was, but Jordan still had a feminine phys
ique that as a man Daniel found all-too appealing. He shrugged it off and headed for the refrigerator.

  As Daniel cracked the first egg for his omelet, he found himself experiencing an inappropriate level of comfort than any person should while making breakfast in a stranger’s house. Had Demérs actually been there, this may not have been the case, but being in the apartment alone with Jordan had seemed to put him at ease. He hadn’t seen her in months, but Jordan had once been like family to him, and there is a level of comfort that never disappears when it comes to family.

  After finishing his breakfast and putting away his dishes, Daniel made his way down the hall and to the gym to join Jordan. He walked in to find her jogging on the treadmill.

  He looked around the room and found himself impressed by the personal gym located conveniently in the middle of the penthouse. It looked much like any fitness center in a hotel or living complex. There were weight machines, free weights, and cardio machines. The walls were lined with head-to-toe mirrors, and there was—of course—a large flat-screen on the front wall. Below the TV was a black marble counter, and built into the marble were compartments with glass doors. One compartment held damp towels, and the other was a mini refrigerator with a variety of flavored energy waters.

  After examining the room, Daniel looked up at Jordan on the treadmill. Her eyes were fixated on the television at the front of the room and she was engaged in some sort of reality show.

  Daniel’s eyes then turned to a bench press off to Jordan’s left, and he slowly made his way toward it, examining the amount of weight currently on the bar.

  “Be careful with that,” Jordan told him, catching him eyeing the bar. “Gordon can push a lot of weight. You might need to take a few of those off.”

  Daniel shot Jordan a glance as if insulted, and then looked back to the weights, adding them all up.