(Note: This chapter has a slightly more intense tone than those before it. Please be advised.)

10. SLICE

Brooklyn, New York. December 25th, 2019 – 3:45 AM.

Kevin Mooney lived the first thirty-five years of his life as an upstanding, law-abiding citizen of the great state of New York. He made all the right choices. He went to a Catholic boy's school from the ages of five to fourteen and then spent that next four years at a Catholic boarding school up in Virginia. He got accepted into Syracuse University and spent the next six years double majoring in Business and Mathematics; which, of the latter, he earned his master's in. Though his mother and father had wanted him to go to medical school, he assured them that it was not his calling. Especially with his intense fear of seeing blood. Little did he know, that he would some day find himself in a bloody business anyway.

It started when he was thirty-five, in the midst of climbing the ladder of the Delmar Insurance Company. No, that wasn't right. He wasn't climbing, he was crawling. Crawling and scraping his way through menial tasks for the chance of becoming a department head. Hell, maybe someday they would put him on the board of directors. Sure, he had started there as just another accountant, another "spreadsheet monkey," but he had a lot of ideas to help their company grow! Plus, he was taking night classes and pursuing managerial training just to be sure that he was the most qualified person for the job; if the job ever actually opened up. He kept his head down, did what was asked, and made strides to grow with the company. Surely, they would recognize his sacrifices eventually. Right?

Kevin was laid off. Fired. And just two months after his second daughter was born. He was angry and heartbroken.

To think I wasted ten years of my life at that place. Doing their dirty work! Embracing all of their corporate crap about "opportunity" and "growing!" Ten years slaving for them! Ten worthless years with nothing to show for it.

Kevin was ready to give up all hope. If he couldn't find another job quickly, his family would surely begin to suffer. His wife, Sarah, didn't work. And his eldest daughter was starting kindergarten soon. That, plus a new baby just arriving, meant a lot of pressure on the two parents. Those pressures tripled when he lost his job, and a divorce felt incoming as Kevin's hate turned from his unemployment onto his family. Then, like a bolt out of the blue, Mr. Foswell came to Kevin in his time of need.

Foswell had heard about Kevin and his talent for budgeting from a friend they had in common. Of course, Kevin had no idea that this friend was involved in a full-blown criminal empire. And, a few years earlier, Kevin imagined the news of his friend's true career would have appalled him. And, a few years earlier, Kevin would have looked at Foswell with a genuine disgust at his unethical business practices. But things were different after he had lost his job. Suddenly, talking with Foswell seemed like less of a deal with the devil, and more like a guardian angel giving him his second chance at happiness.

"I like you, Mr. Mooney," Foswell had said, just a few minutes after they met. "You're sharp, efficient, and you don't ask questions. Ya just keep your head down and you do the work as well as you can. I respect a man that knows his strengths."

Foswell had buttered him up. After their first meeting was over, Foswell had offered Kevin a job as his personal accountant. Right there on the spot. Kevin took it eagerly. Then, when on the job, he worked eagerly. And, when he finally learned just how illegal Foswell's business was… When he learned Foswell's real name, The Big Man of Crime… When he learned how many people had been robbed, cheated, and killed because of Foswell and his men… When he realized that his employer was a monster and that he was profiting off the misery of others…

He just kept his head down and kept working.

The money was good. Good enough to keep his family stable, and then some. The work did not change either. It was all just counting and managing money, just like at Delmar. The only difference being that, instead of working with insurance claims, he was now working with counterfeit bills, weapons, and illegal drugs. Occasionally, he would see something he'd rather not have. A torture victim here, a corpse there, a contract killer skulking around…

He just kept his head down and kept working.

Foswell promised that working with him would not be a dangerous job. And, for the past twelve years, he was correct. No matter how close Kevin got to "the action," he was never dragged into any of the gory details of Foswell's criminal activity. Even when Foswell had gotten into that awful gang-war with Kingpin, Kevin never worried for the safety of him or his family. He became desensitized to his work and, in time, allowed himself to just enjoy life. The job was messy, but it was good. And it was dangerous, but he was safe.

"What a load of crap all that was!" Kevin now thought to himself.

His back was bound to a chair with rope. His legs were tied down to the chair as well. His hands were stretched outward, handcuffed to a table in front of him. He tried to pull his hands from the bonds, hoping the table would come upward as he lifted the chains, but it was bolted into the cement below. As was his seat. A paper bag rested over his head, blocking his vision. A piece of black tape sealed his mouth shut. He continued to pull at his chains, wiggle under the rope, and kick wildly to free his legs from the chair; but none of it took. He was trapped. And he knew why. It was only a matter of time before his complacency to Mr. Foswell would come back to bite him. He just prayed it wouldn't bite his family as well.

"Mooney, Mooney, Mooney…" a voice bellowed. "Did you miss me, money-man? Cause I missed you!"

Suddenly, light! The paper bag was pulled off of Kevin's head. When his eyes adjusted to the harsh white light, he realized he was face to face with…

Oh, god. Oh, god no!

Kasady stared back at him with piercing, wide eyes and a grin one would wear for seeing an old friend. He then felt a sharp pain as Kasady reached up and snagged the tape off his lips.

"You-!" was all Kevin could bark out.
"Yes, me," he whispered, matter-of-factly.
"What do you want with me?! Where am I?! What is-?!"

Kasady waved a butcher-knife near Kevin's face. He was not having it tonight. Kasady usually loved watching the hysteria of his victims but… not tonight. There was urgent business to attend to.

"You've got this backwards, Mooney," he scoffed. "I didn't kidnap you so you could ask me questions."
"I- I'm sorry," Kevin pleaded. "What do you want?! I'll tell you anything!"
"That's a good boy," Kasady smiled. "It's just one question, Mooney. And, it's a pretty simple one too. So, I want you to answer it quickly and honestly. No hesitating. No editorializing or exaggerating. Just tell me the honest, dead truth. Understand?"

Kevin nodded furiously.

"Good," Kasady beamed at him. "Now… Where is Foswell hiding that earthquake device?"
"The what?"

There was a beat, and then Kasady brought up his other hand, grabbing Mooney's neck. He was bent fully over the table now, his face close up to Kevin's with a wild stare.

"The EXS-2808!" Kasady yelled. "Where is it?!"

Kevin's eyes filled with tears. Kasady smiled again, letting go of his throat. Kevin recoiled, his back pressing against the chair as he tried in vain to pull his hands from the cuffs. But it was no good. It was only then that it finally dawned on Kevin where they were. It was an interrogation room. Kasady and his men were hiding out at an old police precinct. One that had been abandoned years ago when the police had found a larger building that better suited their needs. Now, it was home to a group built on hate and societal upheaval. As Kevin looked into Kasady's eyes, he knew at once what he wanted with that device.

That damn device!

Kevin had suggested against buying that doomsday machine from the Symkarians. But Foswell was committed. Even if the machine was capable of the kind of destruction the blueprints warned about, it did not dissuade him from spinning it into the hands of the highest bidder.

"You worry too much," Foswell had said to his trusted accountant. "If it will put your mind at ease, I'll make sure the bidder who gets it is a responsible human being. Or… at least a human being who won't set it off in New York. Maybe I'll encourage those from a foreign market to take the lot. Would that make you feel better, Mooney?"

It did. And Kevin was over the moon when he saw who had won the device. An England girl. Someone who would take that damn thing far away from his family. For a moment, he considered going up to the woman and telling her just how bad of an idea turning the machine on would be. But he decided that conversation would be better suited for the next day, after the transaction had been completed; lest she pull out of their agreement at the last second. For a moment, it all seemed to be going well. That is until the bangs and booms started to echo in the ballroom. The room filled with smoke and there was fear. A gun was pointed toward him. Everything slowed down. Then, relief came as two figures began their dance, triumphing over the masked assailants. Spider-Man!

"God, I love you, SPIDER-MAN!" he had thought. "You save everyone. Even garbage like me."

But Spider-Man couldn't save him. Even though he had escaped from the party and had found a ride home, Kasady was still one horrible step ahead. With Foswell out of his grasp, Kevin became Kasady's plan B. His acolytes had pulled up in a van as Kevin was inches from the front door of his house. They dragged him inside with minimal effort, knocked him out, and here he was… inches from the face of a crazy person, smelling the bourbon on his breath.

"How about this, Mooney?" Kasady breathed out, calming himself down.

He then brought one hand down, catching Kevin's arm on the table. He held it down with an immovable will, his other hand still brandishing the knife. He brought the tip of the weapon to his lips, grinning again.

"I'm going to ask you the question again," he explained. "This time… I want a direct answer. If I do not get one… If you decide to ask me another question, or lie, or hesitate, or avoid answering… I will cut one of your fingers off. I will do this as many times as I need to until you answer. Understand? I will leave your hand a bloody stump. And if you still refuse to give me my answer… I'll just move onto the next hand. And once that is done… Well, I suppose I'll have to get creative from there. So, it'd be in your best interest to just tell me where my lot is. Be straight with me, and I promise you'll be home for Christmas breakfast with your lovely girls."

Kevin was sweating. He was crying. He felt ready to vomit as he looked into the eyes of the devil. He knew Kasady was not bluffing. But he also knew that telling him the truth would put his whole family in danger. His wife, his daughters, his parents, his employer, his city… they all rested on him. He didn't know where the device was. But he knew where it would be tomorrow afternoon. And he swore to himself that he would never reveal that place to Kasady.

"Kevin," he thought, "for once in your life… don't be complacent. Don't keep your head down. Don't just do your job and expect everything to turn out alright! Stand up to him. Lie to his face! Be a hero. Just. This. Once."

"Where is the lot?" Kasady asked.
"I don't know," Kevin whispered out.

Kasady was silent for a moment. Kevin's heart was beating in his ear. He expected blind rage to burst forth. But then, Kasady started to chuckle. He looked Kevin dead on with a mad glee.

"I like you, Mr. Mooney," he cackled. "But… that is the wrong answer!"

SLICE!

After 60 seconds… Mooney had lost one of his fingers.
After two minutes… Mooney had lost two fingers.
After five minutes had passed… Mooney was down four fingers and had told Kasady everything.

Kevin could not tell him were the device was at that moment. And that had cost him a finger. But, Kasady was giddy to hear the exact time and place where the pick-up would be. Mooney even gave Kasady the true winner's name. Kevin had spilled his guts for Kasady, letting go every detail of the trade that Foswell had afforded him. When it was all done, Kevin hated himself. But the feeling did not last long.

"I'm sorry, girls," was the last thing Mooney thought before Kasady put a permanent end to his career and got back to business.

"Thanks for the info, Kev! You've been great!" Kasady shouted over his shoulder as he exited the room. But his goodbye was not returned, as there was no living soul left in the room once he had exited.