(writing exercise) Kill Fee

 “Enrique is a problem, I’ve heard.”

“You would be doing me a favor. Doing the association a favor. Any more of his craziness and the rest of us are out of business. You’re out of business, too. The cops’ll be sticking close to him. He’s gotten to be too much of a problem and they’re getting ready to take him.”

“It’ll have to be soon.”

They sat in a corner of a not-in-their-neighborhood neighborhood coffee house. The place was noisy with customers, the drive up window when it opened, the air-powered door bell at the drive up, and the expresso machine all going at once. The sun was bright in the windows and people ignored these two, facing each other, one on the sofa and the other across from the first, in a straight-back chair, or three of them if you noticed and counted the other man sitting at the other end of the sofa seemingly interested in his tea. This man, at the end of the sofa by himself, was slender looking but sat upright, alert, confident, and dangerous. The man at the other end, his boss, was moderately aged and sized, white shirt, tie, nice shoes, all the makings of a profitable business man. He was that, of course. The man sitting across from him, in the chair, was on the short, stocky side. Casual sport coat look. Cropped hair. No ex-military bearing at first glance. Cold eyes at second glance. Younger than either of the other two by fifteen years. His hands sat quietly in his lap. The boss spoke.

“I hear we have a couple of days, at most. In fact, I know we have only a couple of days. It’ll have to be quick. The cops are collecting everything for one hard push. Take down Enrique and have enough to keep him in jail until trial. Once they get the okay they’ll move within hours. There won’t be much warning.”

“He would run,” said the young man, Marco. “If anyone would panic and run, he would. I don’t see Enrique going down with the ship. His or anyone else’s.”

“He already has a plan. I know that much but I don’t know any details. Whether he gets bail or not, and I’m betting he will, he’s got a plan. The word is he’s already bought one of the judges. The cops even have his plane watched. I didn’t even know he had a plane. I don’t have a plane. How is it he’s got a plane? He’ll have to drive like hell to get anywhere from here. Or go to ground. But the after-effect will be that we --me and the rest of our friends-- will take on more accumulated heat. Time is important.”

It wasn’t important to add how he knew this. It was only important to emphasize he knew and express the right amount of urgency. Too much pleading and the price for the job would go up. Too little and he would be wasting a lot of money.

“He’ll be on his guard,” said Marco.

“Count on it. I suppose I don’t have to remind you to be professional. You always are. We want this retired cleanly. You’re the only one I can trust to do it. Let me amend that, you’re the only one I can trust to do it right. You’re the best because you’re good at it and you’re good at it ‘cause you stay calm and apart.”

Marco sat quietly and spoke quietly, when he spoke, as it wasn’t really necessary to say anything, almost as if he were disinterested. He was not not interested but entirely professional. Now, he looked out the window as a car approaching the drive-up window passed their window. It was good to know he was the association’s only hope. He wasn’t greedy but he wasn’t stupid either. This endeavor would take a mighty dose of courage and planning including an exit plan. A good plan, though, helped allay need for further courage. There really wasn’t a question about his kill fee. It would be whatever he said. Nor would it be too high or too low. The money would be nice. Marco had a stash for that future date when he, too, would have to run. It was the job. Done right, he would be used again and each time he would collect a handsome fee.

“Forty,” said Marco.

The boss’s eyebrows jumped up ever so slightly at that figure.

“I’m the one who takes the heat,” said Marco. “So far the cops don’t even know that I’m in town but once they do I won’t be able to spit without getting harassed. That’s even before the job. Afterwards, if they don’t know I’m here I can get out and away. If they find out I’m here I’ll have to go under myself.” He tapped his front teeth with a finger nail, thinking out loud.

The boss smiled, sipped his coffee as if to take his time about making a decision. The price had been less than what he collected from his business associates to do the job. Why not make a little on the side? As an administrative fee? A kill fee of his own?

“You, my friend, are worth the price.” He paused again, sipped his coffee again.

###