Part 2

From the Story Arc: Stranger in the Dark

Previous Story in the Arc: The Meeting by Khrushchev (Monday, March 07, 2005)

Next Story in the Arc: Part 3 by Khrushchev (Monday, March 28, 2005)

(posted Tuesday, March 08, 2005)

Several days had passed since his meeting with Pierre, he had gone and spent most of the money he had received in the exchange on alcohol and next months rent. Passed out on the floor of his apartment, there was sever knocks at his door.

“Monsieur Grant?” Pierre continued knocking at the door. Grant slowly opened his eyes he found himself having a hard time recalling how he got here, or how long he had been out. He licked his lips a couple of times as they along with his throat was dry. He propped himself up onto the couch and rubbed his eyes, he reached for the bottle of vodka sitting on his coffee table and held it up over his head. A few remaining drops fell into mouth, confused he closed one eye starring into the bottle wondering where it all went. He stuck his tongue into the bottle neck in a desperate attempt to grab any remaining alcohol he could. Three more knocks at the door, Grant got up and walked to the door, going to the closet first he starred at the shoes and jackets momentarily.

“Man I am hearing things” he remarked as stood in front of the closet wondering if he had indeed heard anything at all. Three more knocks and he finally made his way to the front door. Opening it he could see a well dressed man standing there holding two cups of coffee and a brief case.

“Monsieur Grant, I see old habits die hard”. Pierre looked up and down over Grant’s appearance, he looked as if he had not showered in days and the body odor made it seem even longer.

“Do I know you?” Grant mumbled his words, as he tried to focus at the person in his somewhat blurred view.

“Come now Monsieur your memory cannot be that bad” he squeezed past Grant and made his way into the apartment.

“Come on in” he remarked as Pierre had already squeezed through.

“Well know I can see why” he stated as he looked across the room, clothes piled everywhere, ashtrays full of cigarette butts, and bottle after bottle of alcohol sat on the tables and kitchen counter. A stale smell filled the room along with the lingering smell of smoke. “You should open a window get this smell out”.

“There aren’t any…well only in the bedroom” he pointed towards his bed in the adjacent corner. A small window was just above, Pierre walked over unlocked and opened the window.

“There now Monsieur Pierre have you considered the offer?”

“Now I remember you…the bar in Brickstown right?”

“Oui that is the one”

“Yeah…no deal, I don’t want to get involved” he continued towards the kitchen opening up the refrigerator looking for something else to drink.

“How do you intend to pay back the money I gave you, that was not a gift you know”

“I figure you owe that”

“How so?”

“You got me to come down to that shit hole in the first place, I could have gotten killed there”.

“That’s not how in works Monsieur Grant, now I am offering you a large some of money for your efforts”. He watched as he stumbled around picking up every empty bottle he could grab, trying to get any remaining liquid out of it. “Here drink this, it will help you wake up”, he handed him a cup of coffee.

“Thanks…how much money we talking about”

“Five million Monsieur Grant”. Donald spit out all of the coffee he was holing in his mouth all across his kitchen counter and down the cabinets.

“Five million, I mean what do expect me to retrieve with that kind of money a person?” Grant began laughing hardily to the point where he wiped his eyes from the tears, he began to slow down when he noticed the more serious look of Pierre’s face. “Wait your serious?” Pierre nodded yes. “A person, you want me to kid nap someone? Are you freaking crazy?”

“Not really a person, but a machine”

“What kind of machine”.

To be continued…