Mercenary

Mer·ce·nar·y

Adjective

Motivated solely by a desire for monetary or material gain


''It's a simple in and out job Noah.'' Weasel said, his voice begging.

''It's never simple when you're messed up in it.'' Noah sighed, a job from Weasel meant it was coming from big money but there was always a catch.

We were in an old disused warehouse by the docks or as weasel called it, home. I was sitting in an old wooden chair and across the metal table, that was obviously pulled from a skip, Weasel was walking back and forth, hands flying about.

''It's a lot of money.'' He said his voice betraying how scared he was at the thought that I might not take the contract.

''For you or me?'' Was my accusation.

''For both of us Noah, both of us.'' He fired back, hurt at the thought that I might not trust him.

''It's not you who's going to end up being shot at.'' I fire back.

''Hey I'm putting myself on the line here too if you don't come through with this I'm as good as dead.'' Finally coming to a stop hands slamming down on the table.

''You shouldn't have taken the offer before talking to me.'' I leaned forward, right in his face, the idiot should have known better than to agree without talking to me first.

''What was I supposed to do, somebody gave them my name, they cornered me, I panicked okay.'' Moving away from the table hands running through his ginger hair.

I took a moment to observe the man across from me.

He had short red hair and was very deserving of his moniker, thin and lanky his arms seemed impossibly long though he was not that tall standing at 5.8, wearing ripped jeans the rips not part of the original design, a gray button-up shirt that I was pretty sure used to be white and surprisingly he wasn't wearing shoes or socks.

I looked down at the concrete floor then at my grime covered boots which had been pristine, I was glad I'd worn them instead of my sneakers.

Weasel had sat down on the ragged couch, the color of which I could not discern. He had his head in his hands, what he said next was muffled.

''How old are you Noah, you look young.''

''I'm sixteen Weasel.''

''That's when I got into this business, a different side of it of course.'' He eased his back onto the couch.

''Really, I didn't know about that.'' I rose and walked to the other side of the table and sat back on it.

''I was what you'd call a runner, not drugs, messages, messages that you don't want to be sent by text or email, a lot of times it was within the U.S but once and a while I'd get a job abroad, on one of those abroad jobs the guy I was working for got his head bashed in. So there I was barely twenty, stuck in Paris, my boss dead, his client on my back and all I had, ...was a book.'' He whispered the last part then stopped, looking at me with a grin on his face.

''Continue.''

''Come on, Noah, ask.''and suddenly the Twenty-Six-year-old in front of me turns into a hyperactive pre-teen. He jumped up and bounded up to me.

''Ask, Noah, ask.'' His hands moving rapidly and erratically in the space between us.

''Hmm.'' Was my only reply a smirk on my face, which was not good enough for Weasel.

''Ask, ask, ask, ask.'' The man-child started chanting.

''Fine, fine, what was in this book?'' My hands raised in a placating manner.

''It had names.'' The look on his face made me laugh. Weasel joining in.

''Names?'' The amusement clear in my voice.

''A book full of names.'' He took a step back and raised his arms high.

''Would you just get to the point.'' I might be amused by his actions but that didn't mean I had nowhere to be.

''It was a book full of names of clients, mercs, other runners, it was a gateway Noah, my gateway to the higher ups.'' He went over to the mini fridge and took out a coke.

''So all the higher ups live in water damaged warehouses.'' My amusement now back.

''Haha, do you have any interest at all in my story at all.'' He said as he walked around the table to sit in the chair I had vacated.

''Of course, I do, could you just get to the point.'' I stood up from the table grabbed a coke from the fridge and went to sit down on the old couch.

''Are we playing musical chairs all of a sudden, we seem to have done a three sixty.'' He was deliberately trying to piss me off and I knew it.

''Get to the point before I walk out that door.'' I pointed at the metal shutters with the old oak door beside it.

''Okay, okay, you see the book was where my boss kept all his contacts and like I said his client was on me, cause apparently, his business was now mine, so I looked in this book looking for mercs which, was what the client was looking for and it was full of code names, aliases, stats, hit points, confirmed kills, knife skills, gun skills, it was crazy.'' He stood up again, I swear the man can not sit still.

''Crazy but organized.'' I pointed out.

''Yeah I guess, so this client wanted a quick unseen kill, so I called up this guy that specialized in all that and two days later I had fifty thousand in my pocket.'' The grin on his face was so wide it looked painful.

''Again, you live in a warehouse in Brooklyn, you aren't exactly living like you have fifty thousand dollars.'' My arms crossed and head shaking in disbelief.

''Well a couple of months and a couple of jobs later an old client hired someone to take back the money they had paid me, the merc didn't just take that he took everything, probably pocketed the rest, since then I usually only take small jobs, ten thousand maybe once and a while I'll go for twelve.'' His grin turning to a grimace.

''Harsh but a part of the job I'm guessing.'' A grimace forming on my face also.

''Yeah, anyway the point is I started young too but the minute I got a big job suddenly I'm the guy everybody comes to.'' He is now standing against the fridge in front of me.

''So what are you saying?'' I was confused and allowed that to show on my face.

''I'm saying that you started from the bottom and rose up a whole lot quicker that me and anyone I know of, this contract could put you even higher, I could stark throwing your name around for more jobs.'' His voice showing his excitement.

''Who says I want more work, I already have two contracts that need to be done by the end of the month.'' I was now standing.

''But these contracts will be more money, more chances to chose rather than you having to take every job thrown at you.'' Also standing and walking over to me.

''But more kill contracts, assassinations, jobs I try to avoid like the plague, weasel.'' I was thoroughly pissed off now.

''We could work out different types of contracts, robberies, kidnappings and maybe once and a while some kill jobs but that's no different than now, Noah.'' He said.

''I don't know, I like where I am right now, I don't have too many enemies on my back and yeah I might have to take all the contracts that come my way but I cope with it.'' Hoping he understands.

''Okay, okay how about this, you agree to do the job and we'll sort out all the other details later.'' Suggested Weasel.

''Fine, but I have to finish the jobs I've already taken, that okay with you.'' I was annoyed with the man and I wasn't worried about hiding it.

''Great, that is amazing Noah.'' He bounded over to the other side of the warehouse, to a wooden desk, he opened one of the drawers and pulled out a stack of papers with a disposable phone on the top.

''Ah, the necessities of the mercenary game,'' My displeasure showing.

''Here you go.'' He said as he walked past me and handed me the phone.

''I have serious doubts that this phone is younger than me, weasel.'' Walking over to the table where he had but down the stack of papers.

''You will need it to contact the client.'' He rifled through the papers.

''You sure it's going to work?''

''Noah I know you would like something more high tech, hell you would build it, but that phone is for your safety, my safety and so the client can contact us.'' He turned to me his back to the table.

''What are the details of the operation?'' I went around the table and sat in the chair I had started in.

''I take it that means you're going to do this then?'' He turned back to the table and looked right at me, I could tell he was joking but I answered anyway.

''Yeah, I'll do it.''