Butch handed Jim over to the two armed men.
'Best of luck,' said Butch, before he holstered his weapon and left.
Jim was seething. "Nice one Butch. Leave me in the clutches of these lunatics and walk home happy as pie. You are such a great mate!" (Jim was thinking other such angry words as well, but they will not be repeated here and simply left to the imagination of the reader.)
The two armed men were carrying the mark of the Tailors on their wrists.
This was starting to look like a very bad business indeed...
They marched Jim down towards and finally into the final carriage.
The door standing in front of them was made of steel and it was locked by a computer program.
'It's bullet proof,' one of the men explained.
There was a camera in the corner and its dark lens was glaring back down on them.
The lens moved when Jim moved...
O yes! He was being watched!
Jim was told that the boss wanted to see him at once.
'How flattering,' Jim replied sarcastically.
One of the men nudged him with his gun.
'Be careful son,' he replied. 'You are standing right now on the edge of a knife and you don't know it. But you will do if you carry on talking like that. Now let me tell you a few things:
'The boss is a very private man. He has a lot of enemies and he doesn't need anymore. He lives in this train inside a bullet proof carriage. He talks to no one except the Banker, the President, and a few other dignitaries who will not be named. So show some respect in his presence. You are among the honoured few right now. Not even we are allowed to talk to him, and we have to fight and die for him remember. If I was to enter that room now I would be shot dead. Know that, and remember it Jim. You are in a very dangerous place right now, so be careful. Take my words as a friendly warning. This is no joke. Don't act a fool. Death is dancing before you, beneath you and all around you. Step and speak with caution. Those are my words! HEar them and obide!'
'I feel so comfortable right now,' said Jim, continuing with the sarcasm - to annoy his captors of course! I mean, look at everything from Jim's point of view:
He was about to be killed so he might as well have some fun, right?
The second armed man poked Jim in the ribs with the nozzle of his gun.
'Pipe down boy,' he replied. 'We won't have that kind of talk here! You need to change your attitude! The boss does not like cocky fools! He shoots fools, and right now you are walking right into the line of fire. I would shoot you now, if it were not for the boss holding me back. But he wants you alive for some reason. Lucky you, hey?'
'Lucky me indeed,' Jim replied. 'Your boss must be a very kind man. It's just a shame his lackeys are deranged animals that would do better locked behind a cage in a zoo entertaining the eyes of baffled onlookers...'
'Such insults are only allowed to flow freely from your mouth because the boss allows it,' the thug went on. 'I only hope the boss gives the order after he has met you, and if he does I will be there to pull the trigger, and I will do it without a quiver of a finger.'
'O how I love being threatened! And how do I know that your guns are even loaded? Damn! How do I know your guns are even real? You know what the laws are like in this country prohibiting weapons? If the might of the Brazilian Army can't smuggle arms onto the United Kingdom how am I supposed to believe you guys can? I mean, at the end of the day, your just the Tailors? I mean, who are you really other than some weirdo cult?'
'O son you are a fool!' the armed thug replied with a grin. 'Our guns are real. I would love to prove that to you now. But listen to this: The Tailors are in collaboration with the British Government. Maybe that will convince you of the real truth of my words? When we want guns the British Government will provide. It is good to have friends in high places! The Royals make very fine bedfellows indeed!'
Jim shut his mouth after that.
If these lunatics really were aligned to the Government then an already very bad business had just gotten a great deal badder...
How did my life come to this?
I was working class man renting a flat... How did I find myself up to my neck in guns and cartels?
All of this madness and just because I enjoyed a drink...
I should have stayed sober!
I should have stayed sober...
There was a loud clank sound at the one end of the train and then Jim heard the crackle of a radio above him:
'I will speak with the subject,' said a voice through the computer. A red light on a side panel turned to green and then the door slid open.
The armed men nudged Jim in through the entrance and the metal door slid shut again behind him.
Jim had been expecting to see a dungeon on the other side - or something alike. His experience with the Brazilian Cartel had left him with a nasty dent in his memory.
But NO!
This time there was a very lovely and very lavish office space, with plush chairs and a wonderful smell. Everything in this room was rich and very clean looking. This was a wealthy man's apartment indeed!
No paupers here!
And Jim as not alone:
A strange tall man who looked like a cross between a doll and a robot rose from a large leather seat to greet him. This stranger was wearing black glasses so you could not see his eyes. His hair was white and straight to the shoulder. He walked very slowly across the room to Jim with these strange stiff robot-like movements. Eventually, when he was about a foot away, he introduced himself:
'My name is Mr Grey. This is my train. Welcome aboard.'
Mr Grey, hey?
So this man was presumably the one the Tailors referred to as the boss?
The man was creepy, and weird, and he thoroughly freaked Jim out. And Jim had NO intentions on hiding his fear either. He was too tired and too scared to hide how he felt from people anymore, even from dangerous strangers like Mr Grey.
'Look here and let me tell you something, Mr Grey!' Jim started. 'I am scared to death. I have been pushed and shoved this way and that for weeks now and I can't take it anymore. It's not fair! All I wanted to do was make an honest buck for myself and my friends. And ever since I have started my business people have been trying to kill me and I just can't take it anymore. So please, Mr Grey, boss, whatever you want me to call you - if you are going to kill me then for goodness sake just do it. And quickly. And preferably without a chainsaw being involved. A bullet to the head will be just as good - in fact if you were to let me hold the gun I would just put it into my mouth and...'
'Be silent,' Grey replied, softly.
Jim did as he was told and became very Very silent.
Mr Grey continued:
'I find you to be a very impressive man, Jim!'
Grey said this all the while maintaining this cold, metal, robotic look.
In the moment Jim thought he was actually being hoaxed.
'Are you taking the Mick?' Jim replied.
Grey was unamused by Jim's answer, and he said this in response:
'Look at me, Jim. Look at my face. Look at my eyes - ' and he quickly lifted up his glasses, giving Jim a flash of his deep dark ovals before bringing them back down again. 'Do I look like the kind of man who makes jokes? Let me answer the question for you. The Answer to the question is: NO. Are we finished with jokes. Yes? Are you ready to listen to me sensibly? Good? I see you nodding your head! Marvellous. Now listen to me very carefully. I like you Jim. You have done a lot of good work in this town of Fenwick since your arrival. You have brought drama, gossip and business. These things entwined are beneficial to our town and I thank you for it. Especially for the latter, indeed. You have lit a spark here in this musty dry and dead old place. You have brought Fenwick back to life! And for that you are under our protection. You are a Tailor now, one and whole. Hold your head up with pride when you begin to walk the streets of Fenwick again, my dear Jim. You not only carry our mark, but you carry our power as well. This is a very good day for you, Jim!'
'Forgive me, Mr Grey, if I don't sound very appreciative. It's just I am so confused right now I really don't know what to say...'
'Well lucky for you I do,' Grey responded. 'I have been watching you. I have cameras spread across this whole town...'
'I didn't see them,' said Jim.
'That is the point,' Grey replied. 'When I saw you step off the train for the first time I knew you had potential. I knew you were destined to be one of us. You were an outsider even in your own world. You had no loyalties. And yet you still had ambition. You were perfect for our cause. And that is why I recruited you, and ultimately why I have brought you here.'
'But I betrayed you?' said Jim. 'I took money from you. I tried to run away. Our relationship has been a disaster from beginning to end!'
'No. Jim. It has not!' said Grey. 'You have been on trial. We set a test for you, and you have passed.'
'I can't see how I have passed anything except a lot of alcohol and bad luck...' said Jim. 'Please, Grey! If you are not going to kill me then have the decency to refrain from speaking to me in riddles. I am not an intelligent man, that much must be obvious. I would not be in this mess I am in right now if I was in the least bit smart. So I beg you, sir, boss, whatever you want me to call you. Please tell me what in all the green and grassy fields of heaven is actually going on right now?'
'I saw your fight with the Brazilians. It was spectacular,' Grey replied. 'They had loaded weapons trained on you and you disabled them both with your bare fists. Few men in my arsenal can lay claim to such an amazing feat of bravery. When I saw you complete this deed I knew you were the one. You did not require a hormonal injection - and we don't need you fighting for the Americans across the sea. We need you here in Fenwick, fighting the war against the Brazilians. For it is a war, alas, my dear friend. A war indeed. And please, just call me Mr Grey.'
'Okay, Mr Grey. Let me thank you for the compliment, it's very nice, but those guns the Brazilians were using weren't loaded,' said Jim. 'If you were watching as you say you were, on a secret camera somewhere, you would have heard them tell me that their guns were fake? So I was just fighting for my life, bare fist against bare fist! I guess I just had more adrenaline at the time and it helped get me out of the mess I was in.'
'You are too modest, Jim,' Mr Grey responded. 'How did you know that those guns really were fake?'
'Because of UK law?'
'And you really trust the word of the Brazilian Cartel?' Mr Grey returned. 'What if they were goading you into an attack just so they had an excuse to shoot you down? Trickery is the way of the Cartel. I have dealt with this enemy for all my life. NO. Those guns were real and they were loaded, but you attacked them empty handed nevertheless! I have never seen such bravery before!'
'You are building me up to be some type of hero here, Mr Grey! But you are wrong...'
'Right or wrong, who cares?' said Mr Grey. 'Whatever, the Brazilians have been dealt a heavy blow by your brave hand. The war rages on, still, but that is not our concern right now. Our concern at this moment is making the money to fight that war. And you are the man with the money right now, Jim.'
'I don't see how that can be so?'
'Again, you astonish me with your modesty, Jim,' said Mr Grey. 'Your product, G-Juice, is loved by all in the streets of this town and beyond as well. The deal you have just signed with the Kings is going to make you both a fortune. I am going to be frank with you, Jim. I would like a cut of that fortune. And in return you will have immunity, and something better than that: I will order the present Banker to retire. You can have the keys to his house. You will be the most powerful man in town...except me. How does that sound, Jim? Don't look at me like that, Jim! Have I not proven myself yet to be your friend? I am not trying to trick you! Let go of all doubt! Destroy the shadow of negativity in your brain. Embrace the light of the future. Embrace business between me and you! We can do this! Don't worry! The old banker is a fool, and makes us no money. YOU, on the other hand, are young and fresh and full of ambition! Yes! You heard me. The reason I liked you in the first place is because you are ambitious! You want to be rich, Jim. You want to make a name for yourself! And here we are, and here you are, so let us make a name for you - together! All we want is a cut of your G-Juice fame. I am non-alcoholic but I sipped some of your product and it truly did meet my approval. You are quite the artist in drink, my dear Jim!'
Jim had been backed into a corner, indeed, but even he had to admit it was quite a nice corner to be backed into, because it led to two things - wealth and status.
So he obviously gave in and agreed to Mr Grey's terms.
Why not?
I mean he was a dead man thirty minutes ago - and now he was a hero!
I will take the Bankers job!
They shook hands.
'You are a fine man, Jim,' said Mr Grey. 'With your help, and, ahem, money, we will drive the Brazilian militia out of our town and end this dreadful war!'
'O I hope so,' Jim replied. 'Those Brazilian's are cunning souls. You know they tried to kill me with a chainsaw?'
'Did they hurt you?'
'No. I few bruises on my knuckles - nothing a plaster and a bit of antiseptic couldn't solve.'
Grey nodded and continued:
'Things are going quite well right now in the war but we still need to remain cautious!' And then Mr Grey became suddenly grave and even more robot-like. Something seemed to be upsetting him, deep inside. 'The money your business creates will help in the war, for sure, we might be able to secure the line... But not forever!'
And Jim asked, why not forever?
'Our intelligence reports that the Brazilians might be planning on opening a second front on Fenwick by aligning with Ireland...'
'I don't think the Irish have a very big army,' Jim replied. 'I mean I am no geopolitician but I read something somewhere about Ireland and three tanks...'
Mr Grey slapped Jim round the face. 'Your ignorance amazes me!' Mr Grey replied, angrily, and with great frustration. 'Have you not heard of Project Weight-Loss? No. Of course not. I forget, Jim. You are many things except a politician. Project Weight-Loss was signed during the early nineties. The four big countries, USA, China, the Isle of Man, and uhhhh... O yes, sorry, Russia, I forgot for a minute about that last one... They all grouped together to supply Ireland with a mega stash of military resources to match that of any other country. Ireland was designed to serve as a global super weapon either to defend or evaporate the world. If Ireland betrays Project Weight-Loss and the Global Alliance and decides to throw its lot in with the Brazilians then this war is over for us people here in Fenwick. The Tailors will be destroyed forever. And you and I, Jim, will die. Our story will end in these blood and charcoal stained streets!'
'Damn! That really does sound a bad business!' said Jim, in deep thought.
Jim really didn't realise our bad the situation was, not just for him, but for the whole world in general.
He could not have imagined it either, that Fenwick, a town he had never heard of before in all his life, was at the centre of world politics.
'The fate of the whole world may lie on our actions. But let's not worry about that for now,' said Mr Grey. 'We need to focus on the present. We need to focus on business. Your business, Mr Jim! We Tailors trust in you and we believe in you as well. And even though you have passed the test, we have one last task for you to complete. Complete this last task and we will give you the keys to the Bankers House!'
One last task? But what could that be?
'What do you want me to do?' said Jim.
And Mr Grey replied, in his solemn robot-like voice:
'We want you to kill your friend, Butch!'
(Remember! All spelling errors and grammatical mistakes are intentional - the author 😆)
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