Employer Series #8: Debacle in Dublin (1/3)

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Action and Adventure  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: June 25, 2017

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Submitted: June 25, 2017



*Fifteen Months Ago*


"So uh, who do you think this dude is anyway?" asks one of the two suited guards.

"Hell if I know man", said the other as he takes aim with his finger and fires a mock shot at the man hanging from the wall across the room, " but he must be some kind of crazy killer since we have been cleared to cap his ass if he so much as sneezes wrong."

"I doubt it'll come to that, Derek" says the man as he picks his teeth, "We're not exactly on the A-list around here, we ain't getting any big fish anytime soon. Sit tight and earn this easy money-"

"Frank! Look!" whispers Derek as he nudges his side. He points at the man on the wall. The relatively scruffy man, stretching his neck, begins to scan the room. He focuses on the two guards, and begins heavily sucking on his teeth.

"Oh, I see you have awoken." declares a voice from a speaker on the table. "Do you know where you are?" The man keeps his focus on the two guards and remains silent. " You have been on that wall for five days", confesses the voice, "A necessary precaution I'm afraid, given your...history, you see? I hope there are no misgivings about this." The man remains silent. "Our guest seems to have a problem communicating his feelings. Maybe a few thousand volts will loosen his tongue. Mr. Portman." Derek walks across the room and readies his cattle prod.

"Dude!" whispers Frank as he follows behind Derek, "maybe we shouldn't-"

"Relax, man", replies Derek, "This is probably just a test. Either way we just zap this fool, get into the big wigs good graces, and who knows? Maybe even a raise!"

"Finally take  my family on that cruise!" Frank whispers to himself.

"This is our ticket the A-list!" declares Derek as he prepares to strike, "I'll get him talking!" He thrusts the prod towards the man's chest, only to have it kicked out of his hand.  

"Son of a-!" exclaims Derek just as the chained man spits a tooth out and down his throat, causing him to choke. The man quickly turns and spits another tooth, this time faster and into Frank's eye.

"Ow! Fuck!" exclaims Frank as he writhes in pain, grabbing at his left eye socket, "Who spits tee-"


The two guards, now with gaping holes where parts of their skulls were, fall to the ground. The viscera clears to show the man still hanging from the wall, now wearing an insidious grin.

"Now you knew those men weren't walking outta here..." says the man on the wall, letting his Cajun heritage escape.

"Call them a show of faith. You looked hungry, and we couldn't let our new associate starve, could we Mr. LeSyrn?" says the voice from the speaker on the table. The man's grin fades, leaving only a cold expression. "Oh, we know exactly who you are. Demolitions expert Moix LeSyrn. Born June 15, 1977. Ex military turned contract killer. Unknowingly responsible for the removal of many of our...competitors. Presumed dead."

"Dead?" laughs Moix, hiding his irritation.

"Yes, dead. Presumed K.I.A. when one of your subordinates, a one Sanford Zachary, betrayed you resulting in the slaughtering of your team." says the voice. Moix gives no response. His mind races with rage at just the utterance of the name. " We can offer you money, but we know what you really want Mr. LeSyrn."


Moix's shackles are released and he falls to his feet. "Hiding explosives in your teeth, and a detonator in your tongue...truly genius", confesses the voice, "We have much need for men with your...creativity. Please, search the jackets of the two men in front of you." He goes to check the first body and pulls an envelope containing seven photos.

"What is this shit?" asks Moix while slowly going over the photos and attached dossiers. The first reads, "Emp:  Recruiting and Resource Acquisition - KILL ON SITE."

"Two of our employees have chosen to take something of importance from us." states the voice, slowly taking more of an aggressive tone, "It must be returned. Also, the men responsible, their little team, and every bridge they've built with their
 treachery must burn...in hell fire."

"And if I bring this hell fire-" says Moix before he comes across a familiar face. This site fills him with a burning hatred. A malice so deep, so dense that it all but thickens the air around him. The photo reads, "Sanza: Arms Expert - KILL ON SITE. "Sanza...San-Za...little Sanford..." utters the man through his teeth. His face morphs into a wicked smile as he lets out a sinister cackle. "Hell fire eh?" asks the overly motivated Moix, "My fires will scorch the heavens!"

"We're delighted to have you in our employment, and you'll be delighted with the new you." proclaims the voice as gas is pumped through the vents and under the door. "Are you familiar with the works of one Dr. Tenisett?."


*Present Day*


"So Emp has the drives, huh? asks Lillian as they continue down the road.

"Can we talk about when I'm going to not be a hostage anymore?" asks Davison with an innocent shrug, "it's just I'm really starting to miss freedom, ya know?"

"Look kid, as far as I'm concerned, you're Gramps' problem." declares Lillian, "I'm dropping you off, collecting my money, and going back to the states."

"Can I just get out right here?" asks Davison, "You all keep trying to kill each other-"

"Would you rather we try to kill you, nerd boy?" asks Lillian with a smirk.

"Huh...I guess I see your point." admits Davison. "Well how much longer until we reach this "Gramps" of yours?

"Savy didn't say-" she answers.

"Because he didn't know." says a young voice over the car's speaker system just before the car shuts down. The car is then surrounded by three cars and one van. The occupants of the cars exit and surround Lillian and Davison, guns drawn.

"See, more strangers and more guns!" yells Davison as he sinks into his seat.

"The guns are filled with tranquilizer rounds as a precaution." admits the voice, "We don't have long. Get into the van, Lil. Bring the new guy." Lillian complies.

"Don't say or do anything, I got this, kid." says Lillian as she helps Davison from the car. They enter the van and greeted by Janella and a young man, no older than 25.

" You don't look so good, kid", says the man as he tosses Davison a small parcel, "I hope little Lilly hasn't ruffed you up too bad-"

"Who the fuck are you, pretty boy?" asks Lillian as she points a knife at his face, "Where's Gramps?!"

"Your Gramps as you call him was killed in action", states the man with a straight face.

"So was Savi technically", says Lillian as she inches the blade closer to the man's eye.

"Was he?" asks the man with a sarcastic tone, "If we're keeping score, so was I." He gives a slight smile, and hands Lillian a totem carved from wood. "I told you not to lose this did I not?" Lillian is, but for a short time, overcome with emotion.

"But" utters Lillian while rubbing her thumb on the totem, "in Samolia-"

"Savy was in the area and...just happened across it. It hasn't been used, you know?" says the man with a smile, "we have a lot to talk about dear Lily, but in the mean time , I hear this kids working for Emp and his little band of maniacs." He focus' his attention on Davison. "Word is going around is that this kid is suppose to replace the " Old Techie", that right? You'll have to excuse. It's just a little odd hearing that considering I'm the previous "Techie" of which you speak." Lillian says nothing. The totem in her hands is all she can focus on.

"Well this is perfect!" states Davison as he slips on the clothing inside the parcel, "Then if you could just let me out-"

"And why would I do that?" asks the resurrected techie as he grabs Davison's left arm and begins to scratch at his wrist, "After I've practically moved mountains to have you at my side."

He reveals a small tab on Davison's arm that was hidden with cosmetics. He pulls the tab, allowing a small and retractable USB cable to be seen.

"Crypto-pirate?!" he thinks to himself as he gently pulls the cable from his fore-arm and allows it to retract.

"It's all yours, boy. You built it, it's only fair that you keep it." says the man as he releases Davisons arm, "However, for my goals to come to fruition, Emps going to have to get what he wants. And it seems you are the only one who can give it to him in a timely manner. Which is why we're going to have to temporarily give you over to Emp and his lackeys."

"Wait, what?" asks Davison?

"Don't worry", commands the man as he hands Davison a rather potent cigar, "I'll tell you everything you want to know, nephew."


© Copyright 2017 B. Foreman. All rights reserved.

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