January 2009 Archives

Fuck you Freddy Forever, Cherry said to herself as she walked down the cold, dark streets of Grimland.

She follows a trench coat covered figure some distance in front of her. The figure has the collar pulled up and his hands in his pockets. The only things that stick out are the dark red pants and expensive leather shoes moving fast down the sidewalk. Every once and a while a flap of blonde hair will kick back and Cherry will notice it.

If you are my target I will kill you. I will kill you tonight Freddy Forever. I will kill you. Cherry grits her teeth but is conscious of her anger and doesn't bite down so hard that she cracks a tooth.

The cold night air bites Cherry's face. My legs hurt. I'm not wearing high heels. I can't remember the last time I didn't wear high heels. It fucking hurts, but I could walk for days, weeks looking for this rapist, child molesting murderer.

Suddenly a man leaning up against a building jutted out a hand toward Cherry.

She looked at him, "Sorry, I don't have any cash on me."

She looked back toward Freddy. He was gone.

Fuck, Cherry said to herself. Her eyes follow the glow of a bright pink light.

Red's Shades of Love Adult Toys and Entertainment

Motherfucker must have gone in there. He had to have. Cherry darted into the building fully aware that she could be walking into a trap but too focused to stop and consider the consequences.  

Inside the Adult store there were wall to wall pictures of things Cherry sees on a daily bases. To Cherry, it's all just wallpaper. She stuck to the DVD's because their display cases were see-through. In the corner of the store, looking at a rack of phallic objects, she spotted Freddy. His collar was down and she could see the side of his face. Freddy Forever had perfect skin, cleanly shaven, medium to long length hair, young looking, inviting, trustworthy, fucking despicable waste.

They didn't stay in the Adult store long. Cherry carefully followed Freddy all the way to the Metro Stadium where a third ranked basketball team was playing. Freddy had a ticket and got right in. Cherry had some difficulty.

"Fine. Fuck. I'll take a damn nose bleed ticket; just let me in the damn building!"

Cherry lost precious time. When she finally found Freddy again he was kneeling down between a young boy and girl talking to them. The children' guardian appeared to not be around. Dozens of adult strangers walked right by the children and Freddy without so much as a head turn.

Cherry hid behind a pillar as she texted a message and sent it.

Cherry watched as Freddy led the children to an out of the way exit. The children went out the exit first. Cherry just watched still standing behind the pillar. Freddy followed. A few seconds later a slender, attractive blonde entered the stadium through the exit holding the two children by the hand. They attractive blonde appeared to be talking to the children. The little boy pointed of into the distance. Cherry followed the gesture to a nervous looking woman talking to a guard. Cherry walked out of the exit.

On the other side of the exit door, Cherry found an unconscious Freddy Forever on the ground, four women hovered above him.

"He isn't dead is he?" asked Cherry.

"No, Ma'am," one of the women replied.

"Good, I want to talk to the fucker before I kill him." 

The curtains at the back of the stage whip open hard.

Cherry Valentine moves out onto the stage like a panther moving in for the kill. She reaches the end of the stage and makes a pose. Her muscles flex. She pouts her lips and then parts them to reveal two rows of perfect shining white teeth. She bares her gums to show she isn't smiling. Everyone in the room has their eyes on her. The music is a random drum and bass choice that adds a fast pulse so everyone's hearts are beating together.

Cherry grabs the pole at the end of the stage and turns. She walks with defiance to the back of the stage. She walks back toward the front of the stage as she tears off her shiny black top to reveal a black bra holding back her breasts. She throws the top into the crowd of patrons, yet another rule she alone breaks. Her skirt disappears and reappears in the air over the patrons as well. She works the poll in only her bra and thong moving quickly with the drum and bass sounds.

Halfway through her dance Cherry stops and straightens up. She moves her head from right to left and then back again scanning the audience in front of her. She narrows her eyes. As she passes back from left to right she catches something in her sights. She moves her body to line up with the thing she spots in the crowd. She hops down from the stage, which you are not supposed to do. She moves across the floor like a living shadow. She made a perfectly straight line to her destination. One foot placed gracefully in front of the other.

Cherry's target was a fat man with a bird's nest of hair and a ten o'clock shadow. His eyes were lazy and red. He held a cigar between his fingers and a glass of scotch with the same hand. She wrapped her legs around him with so much sudden force it was like he was caught in a bear trap. She pressed her breast into his face and looked down at him with the top of her head pressed into his forehead. He was the envy of every man in the Damsel.

"Detective Horn, just the man I wanted to see."

The detective's eyes remained just as lazy and red as before she had wrapped herself around him. "This can only be about one of two things and since it ain't my birthday, you must be wondering about one of your stripper's little sister."

"Bingo, hotshot, spill your guts or I'll spill them for you."

"Talk like that could get you thrown in a cage for a long while little kitty cat."

"Fuck you, Horn, how about that?"

"You're apologies need work."

"I don't have much in the way of apologies when guys assigned to keep our citizens safe are in strip joints destroying liver and lung. What leads do you have?"

"Not much," Horn says, and Cherry squeezer her legs tighter. She flicks her head back and then forward again whipping Horn's face with her hair. "What I do have will cost you. I don't want to have to pay for lap dances for a week."

"No can do, hotshot. These girls get paid shit here that's how they make their money. Free drinks for a month?"

"Two and you have a deal."

"Deal."

Cherry moved through the front door of the Damsel Strip club like a gazelle on the African plane moving fast and trying not to be noticed.

She always walked through the front door. She was the only stripper who did, and since it was against policy for strippers to walk through the front door it would remain that way. The club staff could quickly get an impression of Cherry's mood by how she walked through the front door. If she was moving fast like she was on that night then they knew not to fuck with her. Some nights she would come in with a bright smile on her face and greet every patron lovingly. Most nights though she came in pissed off. If she had a tail it would usually be wagging back and forth. Coming through the front door, letting every bartender, bouncer, and manager see that she was pissed off, was a warning sign. As long as the employees kept their distance and watched what they said then they could keep their head for one more night.

Cherry moved to the back of the club and disappeared behind a red velvet curtain. She reappeared in the center dressing room for the strippers. There were fifteen half naked girls of various shapes, sizes, colors, and styles running around piles of clothes with make-up dust and glitter trailing them. The stench of twenty different perfumes and deodorants mixed with B.O. and farts lingered in the air. A man's fantasy for sneaking into a girl's dressing room would be destroyed if they happened to walk.

The other girls slowed down from what they were doing as soon as they saw Cherry enter the room. As Cherry crossed the room, stepping over piles of clothes as she passed, the girls scrambled to get out of her way.

One girl still wearing her street clothes sat in a ball inside her closet. Cherry spotted her and moved in. The girl was shaking when Cherry approached. The girl felt her presence and looked up. Tears and snot covered the otherwise pretty girl's face.

"I got your text. What happened?" asked Cherry. The other girls in the room were still moving at half their usual pace. "Get back to changing this doesn't concern you!" Cherry yelled.

"It's my sister, Cherry. She's dead. I can't go on tonight. I'm sorry," said the girl.

Cherry knelt down beside the girl, "Your sister died?"

"My little sister, she was killed. She had been missing for nearly 24 hours when the police found her murdered! She'd been raped, Cherry. Some fucking asshole fucking raped my little sister!"

"What did the police say?"

"They won't tell us anything because the investigation is ongoing or whatever, but its bullshit. They don't have a single fucking clue who did this."

"Don't worry, Sugar. You can take the night off. And as for your sister's killer, I'll handle everything."

(A few hours ago)

"I'm glad we finally got the chance to do this," said Jacquie from across the candle lit dinner table.

"Me too, stud," said Cherry Bomb Valentine at the opposite end of the dinner table.

They dined in a softly lit alcove off to the left of the restaurant's main dining room. A bottle of Sterling merlot sat between them. Their wine glasses were a quarter filled. The flame of the candle burned still and its light pierced through the wine and gave the alcove a blood red hue.

Jacquie subtly adjusted his glasses and glanced longingly at Cherry as she observed the rest of the restaurant. Her skin was a smooth creamy white and was revealed by her low cut black dress. Her lips were fuller and of a brighter red than Jacquie had ever seen before. Her eyes were light brown almost like a treasure of gold. A treasure that was protected by lashes so long they resembled lion tamer's whips.

"So I have to know, Jacqueline Bloom, Mr. Gun Bearer. Where did you get the guts to ask me out?" Her eyelids thinned and then widened in wonderment.

Jacquie smirked beneath his beard, looked away, and then looked into her eyes. "I've always had the guts Ms. Valentine. But you know as well as I do that timing is everything."

"I do know a thing or two about timing. Does it have anything to do with me kicking Lorenzo to the curb?"

"Us going on a date might conflict with Gillingham's orders for Lorenzo to protect you. Yes I should say him not being around to cause me to lose my apatite is a good thing."

"You don't like El Scorcho?"

"Gun Bearers are forbidden to speak unkindly of other Gun Bearers. All I can say is that I can't keep down veal when he is breathing down my neck. Now let's put the spotlight on you Ms. Queen of the Damsels. At the risk of having my ego bruised, what made you say yes?"

Cherry narrowed her eyes before looking down and when she looked back at Jacquie they were still narrow. She leaned in a little and said, "it was Kitten's death." Jacquie sat back in his chair but his face remained neutral. "She was always rooting for you and me to get together. You know as well as I do that when Lorenzo wasn't looking we flirted. Kitten knew and she thought we made a nice couple. Now she's gone. I think she would have loved to know we were out on a date."

"You don't think she does right now?" Jacquie asked.

"Please, all the weird shit I've seen at the club? The easiest thing for me to do is not to believe in anything."

"Here we are you two lovely mutts," said a chef in a white coat holding two plates of food.

"Lucius!" said Jacquie shaking the chef's hand after he sat down the food. "How are you doing?"

"Business is good. Hello Ms. Valentine."

"Mr. Martin."

"I'll let you two enjoy your evening. If you need anything at all don't hesitate to ask."

"Oh of course you're going to say that when you lay down your amazing food, man! You know our mouths will be too full to say a word."

Lucius smiled as he waved and walked away.

After the meal the waiter popped the cork on the third bottle of wine. Jacquie sniffed it and sipped it and nodded. Cherry took up her glass and softly pressed her lips to the rim of the glass. The crimson liquid met her lips and the two separate bodies became one. Jacquie's glass hung just below his chin as he watched Cherry drink and stare back at him.

"Your meal has been taken care of by Mr. Martin, sir," said the waiter. Jacquie withdrew a hundred dollar bill and handed it to the waiter after he helped Cherry on with her coat.

Jacquie's Lincoln pulled up to the curb and Jacquie opened the door for Cherry.

"Do you have anything to drink at your place, Jacquie?" asked Cherry when Jacquie got into the driver's seat.

"I think all I have is a bottle of scotch."

"Perfect."

The room was so hot and the air was so moist that the walls dripped. Pieces of floral wallpaper peeled away and slid down to the floor.

Their bodies were pressed so tightly together, writhing and pulsating, they looked like a monster.

He slid his palms from her shoulders up her neck to the back of her head. He grasped her thick damp hair tight and pulled back hard as he gritted his teeth. Her lips thinned and her mouth widened as she gasped for air. 

Her hands moved from his thighs up his sides to his back. His back was wet with sweat and he had tremors in his muscles. She spread her fingers wide across his back. She roughly bit and kissed his neck. She raised the points of her nails against the slick surface of his back. She waited for the perfect opportunity. She began to feel her thighs give way. She racked her nails down his back hard as she came.

He pulled away in painful ecstasy. Their chests separated but he continued to pump his waist into hers. Her neck twisted back and forth to the rhythm of his pelvis slamming into hers. He grew inside of her in the moments leading up to the end. The blood pumping throughout his body filled him with an inhuman strength. He dug deep beneath her and thrust his entire lower body up. She rose off the ground and continued to move up and down. He came in violent toe curling blasts that pulsated throughout their bodies and robbed them of their energies.

They fell into each other with heavy gasps of air. She wormed her lips up to his. She kissed him hard. He kissed her back deep and long. They embraced each other again and fell back onto the pillows.

Cherry reached over to the nightstand still breathing heavy. She came back with a cigarette in her mouth and a lighter in her hand. She flicked the flame to the end of her cigarette. She sucked in hard and exhaled slowly as she spoke. "I don't say this often, but wow."

"I wonder if the second time will be as intense," replied Jacquie as he watched her smoke.

Cherry smiled with the cigarette in her hand and looked back at Jacquie. "I'm amazed and flattered that you got a second one in you, Doll-face. Unfortunately, I have work." She moved to the edge of the bed and got up. Her bare ass shook with every step.

Jacquie rose up, "Work? Tonight?"

"Not the usual kind of work, Jacquie," said Cherry as she went to Jacquie's jacket. She reached inside and withdrew Jacquie's Barrette 93r. She pointed it at Jacquie. "Mind if I barrow this?"

Jacquie lifted up his lower lip and nodded his head. Cherry sat the gun back on the chair and made a pouty face. She turned back around and put on a long black coat. She looked over her shoulder and pursed her lips at Jacquie as she disappeared behind the door.

Long Barrel Darrel's eyes unconsciously drifted to Jacquie Bloom's bandaged right hand resting in his lap as he drove.

"Stop looking at my hand," said Jacquie causing LBD to jump a little.

"Sorry," replied LBD. "So we're going to a place you know where you can get replacement parts for a Beretta m93r?"

"Oh yeah, this guy is going to have everything I need to put Veronica back together," said Jacquie.

"That's good because that gun backfired into so many pieces you're lucky you still have a hand at all."

"Thanks for reminding me, LBD." Jacquie turned the black Lincoln into a gas station that read Cyrrous' One Stop Fast Shop.

"We need to get gas?" asked LBD leaning over to look at the fuel gage.

"No," said Jacquie, "we're here." He parked the Lincoln in the farthest area he could and got out. LBD looked around for a second and then hurried out of the car.

LBD hurried up to Jacquie, "You're going to get parts for a gun at a gas station?"

"Sure why not," said Jacquie. "Gas stations are the only places in the world that you can literally get anything you need. They're trading posts, convenience stores, grocery stores restaurants, auto shops, pharmacies, and in our case a gun store. Gas stations are off the road and anyone who has ever travelled anywhere knows that you can't plan for the unexpected. Gas stations are there to fix whatever problem you might have." Jacquie walked through the metal and glass door. A series of bells attached by a string on the door jingled as Jacquie and LBD walked through.

The man at the counter looked at Jacquie and smiled, "Jacquie my friend what a pleasant surprise to see you today!"

"Hello, Cyrrous you dog, go ahead and get on with it," said Jacquie.

Cyrrous looked at Jacquie then LBD and back to Jacquie.

"He's fine," said Jacquie pressing his unwounded hand to LBD's chest. "He's a Gun Bearer too."

"Good to hear!" Cyrrous was a little dark skinned old man with a thick mustache and his eyes were tiny pieces of bronze. "Maybe I make two sells today," said Cyrrous as he flipped a switch. The switch caused the little shop to buzz from every direction. Suddenly walls and display cases shifted to reveal a second set of merchandise, guns, ammo, grenades, explosives, swords, knives, timers, antique jewelry, passports, birth certificates, and money from foreign lands.

"All I need today is parts for my m93r, Cyrrous," said Jacquie as he took out the remains of Veronica.

Cyrrous' beady little eyes darted back and forth, "this is it?"

"Sorry to disappoint you, old man, but that is really all I need today."

"No no no no no, you cannot come in here and ask for these pieces of a gun and not buy anything else."

"Why the hell not, Cyrrous?" said Jacquie taking a step closer to Cyrrous' counter.

"I am running a business. People need to know that what I have is in demand. I sell you tiny little parts for something and no one even notices. You walk in here empty handed.  You walk out and even though you bought something you still look empty handed, no."

"Dammit, Cyrrous."

"Buy something else, either you or him, something big," Jacquie looked at LBD, who was still looking around at all the things mounted on the rotating displays.

Jacquie looked around, he saw a Katana with a black handle and a black sheath. "I'll take that samurai sword, Cyrrous."

"Ah the Katana. Excellent choice Mr. Bloom, very good." Cyrrous took down the sword and handed it to Jacquie. He reached under the counter and pull up a handful of parts for Jacquie's gun.

LBD didn't notice the sword until he and Jacquie were half way back to the car. "You bought a sword?"

"Cyrrous is a dog, only go in a gas station if you intend on buying something otherwise pay at the pump." Jacquie popped the trunk and threw the sword inside.

"I know what you mean," said LBD, "that impulse counter gets me every time. I have ten flashlight key chains and I don't even drive a car."

"Glenn, let's play a game," said Simon sitting at the end of the bar.

"Sure," said Glenn the Damsel Strip club's bartender as he cut a lime.

"Let's see how drunk I can get before I die."

"You mean over the course of your life or just today?"

"It's all the same to me, Glenn," said Simon as he took a pint glass and began to fill it with equal parts Jack Daniel's, Jim Beam, Johnny Walker Black, and Jameson. "Cheers, Glenn." Simon opened his throat and swallowed the drink in one gulp. When he sat the pint glass back on the bar something in the concoction hit his brain immediately. He felt a combination of mild euphoria and heartache.

Simon looked at Glenn to make sure he was still on Earth. Glenn was making a Bombay Sapphire martini. He walked over to Simon and stuck out the drink. Simon began to mumble the word "no" when a blurry hand reached out next to him and took the drink. Simon turned at the speed of light to see Lee "The Lotus Wolf" Fook.

Fook took a long sip of his drink and placed it back on the bar. He wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his heavy cloth Judo uniform.

"Hello, Simon."

"Hey, Lee."

Fook took another drink. Simon got Glenn's attention for another drink but was denied.

"The funeral was very nice, don't you think?" asked Lee.

"It was what it was, wasn't it?" said Simon his speech started to slur.

"Hold it together, friend."

"Did Kitten really kill herself?"

"What do you mean?"

"Either she really did overdose on drugs, or you killed her, Lee."

"I do not kill innocent people," replied Lee, slightly angered.

"Kitten wasn't innocent. She helped me frame Congressman Vasquez. She killed herself because she couldn't take the guilt...I just thought that if you did it than maybe some of the guilt would be lifted off of me."

"You did what was ordered of you by Mr. Gillingham. And besides, I heard you cleared Vasquez of the charges."

Simon rubbed his head aggressively, "I did that after I found Kitten dead! I finally pulled my head out of my ass and did something I believed in. It just so happened that what I believe in is morally right. Go figure. I just wanted to balance out the world. I wanted to do something right. You taught me that."

Lee smiled and took another sip. "I merely pointed you in the right direction. I am sorry Kitten died. We all deal with things in our own way."

Simon rubbed his head then his face. He pulled his skin down making it look like it was melting off and turned toward Lee. "Why are you here, Fook?"

"You know why I'm here," said Lee Fook, as he drained the remains of his Bombay Sapphire martini.

Simon stood up from the bar and stretched then stumbled. Lee was there to grab him so he wouldn't fall. Simon leaned on Lee as they headed into a private room. The strippers knew not to follow. After a few minutes past three gun shots rang out from the room. A few people screamed, a few more people pretended to scream, but everyone else pretended nothing happened.

"Where is he?" asked Cherry Bomb Valentine dressed all in black with only the slight shadow of her cleavage showing.

"In his car, I assume," whispered Jacqueline Bloom also dressed in black, which is usual for a Gun Bearer.

Cherry and Jacquie sat next to each other in the front row. The sky was a bright blue with only a few puffs of white cloud hanging high. A slight breeze kicked up. Black cars covered the cemetery road. People dressed in black, some Gun Bearers, and some strippers, all walked toward Jacquie, Cherry, and the casket of Katherine "Kitten Kaboodle" Jameson. 

"Why is he..." started Cherry.

"He won't come out until the funeral is about to start. He won't want to talk to the other Gun Bearers. He probably won't even want to talk to me."

"Simon Refing won't want to talk to you? You two were partners, and more importantly you two are friends. Don't get all depressed on me Jacquie, now is not the time," said Cherry putting her hand on Jacquie's leg.

Jacquie looked at Cherry's hand on his leg, "A funeral isn't the time to be depressed? When is a good time to be depressed?"

Cherry took a second to think, "After sex is the only legitimate time to be depressed."

"Why is that?" asked Jacquie.

"It's the only time you can be sad if it was good and if it was bad."

"True, I guess," said Jacquie looking forward but still talking to Cherry. 

"It was Simon who found her," said Cherry also looking forward.

"Yeah, I know. Fucking gut wrenching. You hear what he did?"

"You talking about Congressman Vasquez? I thought that was just a rumor."

"The Syndicate doesn't have rumors," said Jacquie with an irritated tone in his voice. "Any information that gets passed immediately gets filtered for bullshit, it's the real deal. Simon cleared Vasquez's name. He probably did it because of Kitten, but I don't know. In any case he's royally fucked now. Here comes Lorenzo," said Jacquie pointing with a head nod to Lorenzo El Scorcho, a fellow Gun Bearer. Lorenzo ignored Jacquie and Cherry and sat five rows back. "How come he isn't trying to sniff your panties anymore?"

"Oh thanks for that awesome visual, ass!" replied Cherry. "I cut him loose. I don't need a fucking Gun Bearer watchdog. I'm the head of the strip club I can take care of myself."

"You clear that with Gillingham?" asked Jacquie.

"He's the one that ordered it. Lorenzo's off my ass. I'm on my own. If I can't hack it then I'll get knocked off, or raped, or both. I'll be fine."

Jacquie tried to conceal his concern but nothing he did could escape Cherry.

"Here comes Jason Madinger with three of your top money makers," said Jacquie looking behind him. A barely twenty-one year old kid came up the hill wearing the same kind of suit as Jacquie but with noticeable alterations. His black belt was studded, his pants sagged low, his shirt was un-tucked, and his hair was cut in five different lengths around his head. Trailing Jason were three of the Damsel's girls wearing tight fitting low cut black dresses in honor of Kitten Kaboodle.

After Jason Madinger arrived Long Barrel Darrel showed up and sat on the other side of Jacquie. Lee Fook the Lotus Wolf arrived quietly but caused a great deal of whisper. Most of the Gun Bearers in attendance had never met Fook and only some had ever seen him. Jacquie wondered why he was there.

The priest arrived and took his place at the head of the casket. As he parted the Bible to begin the ceremony Simon appeared out of the corner of Jacquie's eye. For a brief second Jacquie thought Simon was headed toward the front and he tried to whisper for LBD to move down, but Simon suddenly stopped. He ended up sitting next to Lee Fook. The two men exchanged glances but said not a word to each other. The people that noticed this bizarre encounter began whispering to the people who did not catch it.

The whisper was so loud that when the priest was ready to begin he started with, "Please remain silent in memory of Katherine."

"You Gun Bearers don't really like to talk on the phone that much do you?" asked Congressman Vasquez as he walked into the closed down Chapel.

Simon Refing sat in a pew gazing up at a broken stain glass window depicting St. George battling a Demon. "Not really," Simon replied, "if we do, we like to keep it brief and its usually to figure out a place to meet and converse."

"Does meeting here hold any significance?" asked Vasquez.

"You ask because you already know the answer and you want confirmation, but we both know your answer is correct."

"So the reason you helped me was because you had a spiritual awakening, realized that what you did was wrong, and returned to the crime in order to right it?" 

"More or less."

"How is that?" asked Vasquez as he took a seat in the pew behind Simon.

"I dunno what I had, Congressman. I dunno what it was but somethin in my gut told me I needed to fix some things."

"Well whatever it was... thank you."

"Don't mention it."

"I don't know what you did, and frankly I don't wanna know. But the guy with the photos couldn't be reached, and Congressman Mallard withdrew his statement and is now looking at his own charges."

"I said don't mention it."

"Yeah, well, I guess words can't really describe it anyway," said Vasquez.

The two men sat and looked at the decaying house of God for a few minutes in silence. Eventually, Congressman Eric Vasquez sighed, stood up, and walked out. Simon was once again alone.

"I know you're there," said Simon. "I can feel you now. I couldn't before. I don't know if you took one step forward and entered my zone of awareness, or maybe I'm the one that took a step and entered yours. That was it though wasn't it? Right now Gillingham is receiving all the details of my steps to clear Vasquez's name. In an hour a plan will be made to see my head on a stick. I guess what I'm trying to say is I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I only got one chance to correct all the mistakes I made. But I feel like helping that guy was a pretty big one. I think I really fixed my screw up. Just do me one favor though. I know, I know, I ain't got no right asking for no favors, but just take care of Jacquie for me. He's under Gillingham's thumb good and tight and its because of his family that he's a Gun Bearer. Just help him see the light. Maybe I'm doomed to Hell but he don't have to. He doesn't deserve something like that, not for just trying to take care of his family. I guess this is the part where I say 'amen,'" Simon paused for a second and stared at the stain glass, "Amen."

Senior Congressman Michael Mallard kissed his ten-years-young-than-himself wife as he grabbed his briefcase from the chair next to the front door. He walked out the front door and immediately began looking through his e-mail on his cell phone.

He walked down the brick steps and walkway. When he reached the driveway he put away his cell phone, took out his car keys, and hit the unlock button.

KA-BOOOOOM

Congressman Mallard was blown back on his ass. The fireball from the explosion lifted high in the air like a blooming flower. Mallard scuffled away from the explosion while at the same time trying to get to his feet.

"Helen!" Mallard exclaimed. He ran back to his house. He opened the door and slammed it shut behind him. "Hel..." he started to say but saw a familiar figure standing between him and his wife "...en."

"Hello, Congressman," said Simon Refing. 

"You'll never get away with this!" Mallard yelled.

"Get away with what?" asked Simon.

"You just fucking blew up my car!"

"What car?" asked Simon.

Mallard stomped over to the window and opened the blinds, "that car you id..." started Mallard but as he looked outside he noticed the car was gone. A large black smudge remained where his car had been. "...iot."

"Oh don't worry, Congressman. I'll give you a ride to the hearing today. How does that sound Helen?"

Mallard's clueless wife replied, "That is very generous of you, Mr. Refing."

"Come on Congressman, we don't want to be late." 

"Who the fuck are you?" asked a white haired old man staring at Simon Refing, who sat behind a large oak desk.

"Well that's not a very nice way to start out a conversation," replied Simon as he reclined casually in the leather chair.

The old man reacted quickly. He reached into his jacket with his right hand, withdrew a snub nose revolver, and shot a bullet three inches from Simon's hand.

"Don't even twitch cocksucker!" said the old man.

"Congressman, I don't have a weapon."

"Move your mouth again when it isn't the answer to a question and I'll willingly loose a little sleep wondering what the fuck you're doing here!"

Simon kept silent.

"Who the fuck are you?"

"Simon Refing, why so tense Congressman?"

"I ask the questions not you! What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to make you give me all the copies you have of Congressman Vasquez's unintentional misconduct at a local strip club."

"Make me? Did you just use the words 'make me'?"

"Do I have to answer questions you already know the answers too?"

Another shot goes off. The bullet is lodged in the wall near Simon's head. He flinches but it's all an act. He's a tightrope walker. Arrogant despite a gun staring back at him, but not tough enough to stay steady when the bullets fly at least that is what he wants the old man to think. 

"Who are you really?"

"Just a con man that must have made a mistake," said Simon in an apologetic tone.

The old man's eyes narrowed. The gun remained steady in his hand. He took a step forward into his office. Simon continued to remain still. He wants me to stay still, Simon thought, I wonder if it's because he can't hit a moving target even if it were coming right at him. Has he been meaning to threaten me or did he miss those two shots. Shooting or lying. Both are intimidating. Either one he might be good at. The old man took three more steps inside his office; he turned a little so his right arm pointed back toward the door. He was silent. His eyes were still thin slivers of wrinkled flesh. He motioned toward the door with his gun.

Simon rose slowly from the chair, all while keeping his eyes on the Congressman. He turned his back to the old man as he passed him on the way out the door. I guess playing the casual card just doesn't work for me. And with no gun, I'll have to resort to something drastic to get Congressman Mallard on my side.

"Tradepost," said Simon hidden in the dark, "I should have known it was you."

A thin Indian man holding a bag of garbage was illuminated by a security light above him. "Who is there?" he asked with squinting eyes. 

Simon stepped out of the shadows.

"Oh Mr. Refing, it is you! You scared me! What can I do for you today sir?"

"You can go back to being scared, Tradepost."

"Excuse me, Mr. Refing?"

Simon continued to walk toward Tradepost. His steps were fluid yet firm. His chest was forward. His hands were tightened balls.

  When Simon was just a few steps away, Tradepost dropped the bag, backed up, and put his arms in front of him, and his hands on his face. "Mr. Refing I do not know what this is about! Please forgive me if I have caused you any distress."

"You ain't caused me nothin' Tradepost," said Simon keeping his hands to himself but leaning down on Tradepost so that his own shadow cast the little man in a shroud of darkness. "But you have caused a few damages to a friend of mine, Congressman Vasquez, heard of him?"

Tradepost's eyes lit up like signal flares, "Oh my goodness, Mr. Refing. I-I-I-I-I had n-n-n-no idea Mr. Vasquez was a friend of yours."

"Can it! You received some photos from an unmarked envelope that had been slid under your store's front door a week or so ago. You were instructed to sell those photos and keep the money. You did what was asked because you are a squirrelly little man."

"Y-y-y-yes I did what the envelope said."

"You did? Well then why do you still have the originals, Tradepost?"

"What?"

Simon leaned in further, "you're no squirrel. You're a rat! You kept the originals and sold duplicates.

"Nn-n-no."

Give me the originals Tradepost!

"I don't. I swear."

You're lying! Why?"

"I'm sorry. The man that bought them...I recognized him. He was the senior congressman. I see him now on TV he fights Mr. Vasquez in court! I need insurance these are bad men."

Simon's eyes went wide. He backed up, gave Tradepost some room. "You are afraid of these men?"

"Yes!"

"Tradepost do you know what they will do to you?"

"Not exactly but I know it will be horrible. I know they will kill me."

"I WILL KILL YOU!!!"

Simon's roar made Tradepost nearly jump out of his skin.

"You're afraid of them. You've seen what I can do. You've seen me do it. I did it in your own store. You remember the three gangbangers and the cokehead. I've ripped off a man's leg right in front of you! Do not be afraid of the things you can imagine! BE AFRAID OF ME!!! Give me the photos!"