"Morning, Albert." Murdam unlocked Albert's handcuffs. "I brought breakfast. You're going to have to eat blind. I don't want you knowing what I look like yet, so keep the blindfold on." Murdam handed Albert a bottle of water and a paper bag.
Albert took the cap of the bottle off and sniffed at the contents before guzzling it down.
"Here's where we are, Albert. Somebody hired Johnny to come after me, but he was only bait to lead a Burmese hit squad to me. The Burmese killed Johnny and Chuck. I killed the Burmese. Not all of them, it's a whole fucking country, but a lot of them. I think Johnny brought in you and Chuck on his own, so I think you're safe from the Burmese and whoever's behind all this. So while you've been locked up starving here, turns out I was keeping you safe. What do you say, Albert?"
Albert finished the bottle and turned his attention to the paper bag. "Thank you."
"You're welcome, Albert. Now here's how you're going to pay me back. It's time you turned professional. Violence is not your strong suit, but you might have some skills. You need to perfect those. I don't mean being good at fucking. I mean being able to get a woman to do what you want. I may need a heart broken or some blackmail material. I've got your number." Murdam slipped Albert’s phone into his pocket. “I pay decent. But you don’t get to say no.”
Albert nodded as he ate his way through the bag of breakfast tacos. “You’ll probably see my face and learn my name eventually, but I’m going to wait and see if they use you to get to me,” Murdam continued. “I don’t expect you to be dumb enough to disagree with me to my face, but think about this if anyone asks about me. That dumb asshole Deuce is safe and alive. Everyone who tried to kill me is a pile of corpses in a car trunk. You want to stay useful to me, and you do not want to cross me.” Albert kept nodding.
“Can I ask a question?” Albert said, sheepishly.
“We’re colleagues now, Albert. Go ahead.”
“What’s your deal?”
“My deal?” Murdam repeated.
“I mean, are you syndicate? Omega? Shit, CIA?”
Murdam laughed. “Don’t worry about that, Albert. But here’s my deal. I don’t like people. So I like it when bad things happen to them. That’s why I’m keeping you alive. OK, finished eating? Here’s how this works. You get in the trunk of your car. I drive you somewhere and pop the trunk. You wait ten minutes before getting out. Then just keep this phone, and you better pick up every call you get.”
Albert nodded. Murdam stood him up, pointed him towards his car with the trunk open, and pulled off the blindfold. He kept a pistol trained on the back of his head as he walked to the car and climbed in the trunk. Albert didn’t turn around as he lay face down in the trunk.
The ride was maybe five minutes. The engine stopped and the trunk unlocked, popping up a couple inches. Albert Clough heard the car door open and close behind the sounds of traffic. He kept face down and pulled out his phone to check the time. He planned on waiting at least fifteen minutes, but someone opened the trunk before then.
“Hey, hey you!” Albert ignored the voice, staying face down with his eyes closed shut in case this was a test. “I’m talking to you!” A rough hand rolled him over.
It took a minute for Albert’s eyes to adjust to the light. The first thing he focused in on was a familiar set of sore covered lips. It was Cindy.
“You owe me ten dollars!”