The Train: Episode 8

Jason Vargas sat in the back of his car and looked out the window, breathing deeply to calm himself as they headed for the club. The warehouse explosion had destroyed a year’s worth of liquor and tobacco, and now Vargas was paying through the nose to ship in a new supply. He would remove this thorn in his side, and he knew just how to do it. Roth was an overconfident weasel. All Vargas had to do was lure the rat into a seemingly innocent situation where he would feel he had the upper hand. After closing the club, he had sent the word out that he wanted a meeting with Roth, a truce. Vargas knew Roth would be expecting a trap. He had to make sure there was no way Roth could escape. Looking over at his brother, he smiled and asked,

“You ready, James?”

James, two years younger than Jason, admired his older brother. He wanted in on Jason’s business dealings and was willing to do anything to make that happen. He extended and contracted his fingers, trying to ignore his frazzled nerves. He ran his fingers through his short brown hair and scratched two day’s stubble that grew in patches on his chin.

“James,” Jason repeated. “Are you ready, little brother?”

James took a deep breath and slowly let it out.

“Yea, I’m ready,” he said, nodding

“Good. Just tell me your orders one last time,” Jason suggested.

“Okay. I position myself in the hidden back room, and when this Roth guy shows up, I slide the rifle through the spy hole and kill him,” James recited.

“Good man,” Jason said, patting his brother on the leg as the car pulled up to the nightclub.

“Let’s get to it,” Jason said as he climbed out of the car and headed for the front door.

James nodded and followed close behind.

When they entered the club, an army of men and women gathered around Jason.

“Everybody get into position. I want this place jumping when Roth gets here. Just a regular night at the club, not an ambush,” Jason said.

As he stepped toward his table, a young curvaceous blonde tried to move out of the way but ran into him. After a moment of confused sidestepping, she smiled and her face lit up like an angel from heaven.

“Pardon, Monsieur,” she said in a soft seductive voice.

Jason watched her walk away, a smile spreading across his face.

“Um, um, um. I have got to take that home after this is done,” he said.

 

*            *            *

James headed back to the long dark room that served as hidden storage and got into position, leaning up against the door and watching through the spy hole. Perfume and smoke filled the air and the cool sounds of jazz drifted through the club as the man Jason had described entered the room. He held a bag over one shoulder and walked with a cane. James noticed that he wore a smug grin as he scanned the room.

“So this is the guy,” James whispered.

Crossing the floor, Roth walked up to Jason’s table, not twelve feet from the door James hid behind.

“You wanted to talk?” Roth asked.

“I would like to negotiate a truce,” Jason said.

“Give me the police officer. That’s all I want,” Roth said.

“The one from the fire?” Jason asked.

“Yes. That’s the one,” Roth answered.

“Sit and have a drink with me first,” Jason suggested, pushing a chair toward Roth.

“I’d rather stand, thanks,” Roth declined.

Jason had told James that the drink offer was his cue to fire. He stepped away from the spy hole and lifted the lever action rifle. Quietly loading a cartridge, he carefully slid the barrel through the spy hole and aimed it at the back of Roth’s head.

“So long, you miserable pest,” James said as he sucked in his breath and held it.

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Published in: on October 8, 2011 at 4:06 pm  Leave a Comment  

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