Seeing that the story had ended, Jack Schneider started sweating more than before but force himself to sound and appear calm:
"Look, Ghost, I know I f*cked up but I have also taken some damage. You even got what you were looking for. Can we consider things even and each go our way?"
"Who said I have gotten what I am after?"
Jack smiled a little despite his constipated expression:
"You can tell me a story so leisurely. I don't think you are the type to procrastinate or leave things to chance so you must have used a way to obtain what you wanted from me while I was out."
"Nice deduction there, Jack. But have you considered that this was my way of breaking you to obtain what I wanted?"
*Gulp* "..."
"I know that you have contingency plans. That plus your original stubbornness makes you a hard piece of meat that needs some tenderizing. Given that your greed extends to more than just money but life too, I was waiting for your men to arrive so that I can destroy them before you, at the same time crushing your hope."
*Gulp* "Look, Ghost, we can talk it out. No need to resort to violence or other means that don't reflect our standing."
Ghost suddenly seemed to smile, losing his coldness and projecting calm, maybe with a touch of indifference:
"You are right…"
"Phew…"
"About the last part and also about the fact that I've already gotten what I wanted."
"Huh?!? Didn't you…"
"I know what I said. That was my previous plan for you, but you have no value anymore and now I'm bored. It has been interesting to go from place to place and see different sceneries. You have been a good partner in the game and it is your luck that killing doesn't enthuse me."
"Really?"
If Ghost had been visible, his eyebrow would have been seen twitching at what Jack said in a small voice. He didn't dislike moving his body, putting it to use through fighting. Those were his hot-blooded moments, balancing his inherent indifference.
But, arbitrary and cold-blooded killing, while he could and would put it into practice when needed, couldn't make his emotions fluctuate. Neither like nor dislike, but apathy strong enough to make the action so uninteresting he couldn't bother going through with it and he didn't want the disgust brought by doing something he really didn't feel like doing. Even if it would be fleeting, it would succeed in souring his mood.
He continued as if he hadn't heard the questioning comment:
"I don't feel like killing you, but I can't let your offense go unpunished. So I will leave you with a gift and if you survive then good for you."
Jack heard the voice move and turning with difficulty, he saw a shadow stop at the side of the informatics equipment. After some manipulations, he saw the screens start to flicker, jolting his awareness to the fact that they had been dark earlier.
"You have stopped my call for help."
"Yes. And now I'm letting it do its job."
That "generosity" made Jack ask with trepidation:
"What is my punishment, Ghost?"
"Did you know that humans are not made to stay upside down like bats? Well, that is common knowledge. But do you know what happens when you get wounded where all the blood in your body is rushing toward?"
Jack should have been hopeful, because even if Ghost did what he was saying, his men would still be able to save him. Even now as they were talking, they must have been on the way, so he knew that his punishment was more than just that.
As he was thinking, the shadow that suddenly covered him made him focus back on the situation. He could only identify the dark colored pants and the shiny shoes, with everything else too difficult to see from his position.
That was until the shadow moved, seeming to take out from its suit or its jacket an object. It crouched down and with the coldness on his cheek, he knew what had been brought out: a knife.
He suppressed the pain he felt on both cheeks, but he knew the worst pain of wounds was not when they came into existence.
He saw the shadow of Ghost turn around and go to door as he heard him talk:
"You can count how long you have on your own. For your information, this place is trapped with explosives so maybe your men won't get to you in time."
"Ghost, wait. I can compensate you, we can talk it out…"
"Good luck, Jack."
"Ghost!!! Ghost!!! Ghost!!!"
Jack, from his upside down position could only see the back of the one he had set up previously as he left, remembering only the snow white hair that was beautiful in the absence of light.
He felt his wounds even as he suppressed his voice to call his captor back. Now instead of his sweat, his blood has become the sand in the hourglass as it rolled on his face, wetting his hair before dripping on the ground.
The sound it made became a symphony with the sound of the computer sending the signal for help in the otherwise silent "abandoned" warehouse.
With each beat of his heart, he couldn't help but feel his life escaping him, with the coldness of despair starting to pervade him from his feet.
********
Outside of the warehouse, a few dozen meters away, Lucas met Estrella who was leaning against their car. It was a slick sports car, shiny either from the paint or the lack of dirt.
"Keys."
Estrella threw the car key to him, which he used to unlock the car, and sat on the driver's seat.
"I didn't think you would be in a bad mood after finding him."
Estrella also got in the car and adjusted her belt.
"Killing in battle, it's just a clash of two or more sides with the stronger coming on top. An aspect of the survival of the fittest. Surviving and winning might even feel good. But scheming to kill or killing in cold blood, I need something to get me out of the indifferent mindset it put me in."
"Alright. Where are we going?"
"I would say Miami just to take a look but I feel that the mood there would be too dark for me in my present state."
"Let's go to Los Angeles."
"Okay. We can plan things from there. But don't complain if I look at people of the opposite sex showing off in bikinis."
"I don't need a Barrett to kill from afar."
At Estrella indifferent answer, Lucas laughed as he made the car warm up its engine:
"And I don't think you can kill me without a Barrett."
*VROOM*
*VROOM*
*VROOM*
"Maybe you just need to steal my attention."
With that last comment with a smile, Lucas, in a less heavy mood, made the car spring forward like a springbok bounding away from a predator.
It became a line that started coloring the American's roads on its way toward its new destination.
********
AN: What do you guys and girls, uncles and aunts, think so far?
Should Jack Schneider survive? Give me your opinions (your essay writing homework 😁).
Then, for his survival, would you bet:
Yes?
or
No?
********
🤔 Hmm, should I give another bonus chapter?