Page 20 of Five Fingers of Death

A pained cry tore through the night just as the thunder rolled.

“What the fuck was that?” Red asked.

“That, gentlemen, is our nightly entertainment,” Fox chuckled. “It’s time to play.”

“Aw, fuck. I hate it when he says shit like that,” Eli sighed. “You could have told us. I would have stayed behind.”

“I didn’t ask you to come,” I reminded him. “You can leave at any time.”

“Yeah, but I’m already here,” he grumbled.

I glanced to my left, wondering what Red thought. “And what about you?”

“I’m in.”

We stalked across the property to where Fox set his trap, the three of us silent as Fox started getting in the mood by singing his favorite songs from West Side Story. With the storm clouds looming overhead, it almost felt like it was some kind of sign that this was meant to be.

“Shit,” Red muttered as we reached the clearing. “A bear trap?”

“That’s just the beginning.”

Three men laid on the ground, each of them caught, wriggling on the ground to escape the metal traps around their ankles. Fox strode over to them, his voice jolly as he continued singing. One by one, he tore off their masks, revealing the assassins who came for me. They were most likely nothing but hit men, but the message would be clear enough, and that was all I needed.

I stared down at them, letting the gravity of the situation wash over me. “It’s time to begin.”

* * *

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to do here,” Eli said, staring at me as I tried to get into work mode. It was difficult with him questioning every single move I made.

“I’m doing what I have to.”

“Which is?”

“Sending a message.”

Red chuckled at that. “Fox sends a message. Hell, even FNG sends a message. You’re too pretty.”

Okay, I was slightly offended by that. “Don’t let the hair fool you. I may look like a senator’s son, but I can still kick your ass.”

“I know that,” Eli muttered. “Red knows that, but whoever the fuck these guys are, they don’t give a shit. They’ll see you as fresh meat. You shouldn’t have fucking come out of hiding.”

“And just sat back to let everyone else do all the hunting for me? No thanks.”

I picked up my knife, taking a deep breath and I focused on my task.

“Seriously, let Fox do it,” Eli reiterated.

Speaking of which, Fox came sauntering over, a grin on his face as he slapped me on the back. “Man, it’s a great night to be alive. The night air is crisp. The smell of acid is in the air. Can you smell the blood boiling over an open fire?”

“Fox, stop turning Christmas songs into demented versions of…whatever the hell that is,” I snapped. “This is a job.”

“Oh, I know,” he grinned. “Which is why I’m in such a good mood. This is gonna be good. I’ve already got them pissing themselves. Man, you should have seen them when I strung them up over the acid. The big guy actually started crying. I haven’t seen anything like that in the past two years at least. God, it’s great to be back!”

I pulled out the proffered bag of Funyuns, remembering his list of demands. “As requested.”

“Ooh, Flamin’ Hot! You know what I like. This is perfect for tonight.” He popped the bag open and set the first one on his tongue, letting the spices burn into his taste buds. “Say, you didn’t happen to bring any music, did you?”

I had anticipated this. “Actually, I considered it. I weighed the pros and cons. Somehow, playing musicals didn’t seem all that threatening.”

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