Devil's Deal

A follow-up to 'Backroom Business'

After his shadowy prospective patron revealed himself, Karl was stunned for a long moment; the terms offered to him were heard through water. "Karl? Master Gotson?" His name broke through the chaos upended in his head, and even as his eyes refocused on the plush, richly furnished room, he could hear the eye-roll Mayor Volkton gave as he used his preferred address in doing business face-to-face.

"Yes, sorry? I don't know what to call you, sir?" Karl recovered himself as he replayed the offer in his mind. It was undoubtedly too good to be true. But the real question was if he could take the deal and dodge the inevitable catch buried within it.

"Glad to hear you agree Karl. I look forward to our city's cleaner future." The crystal glass across the desk was picked up before a sigh came from the Mayor's shadow. "Empty. That won't do, else how do we have a toast? Do you need a top-up?" He heard the roll of wheels as the chair shifted in the darkness, the shift of air as a cupboard opened, the clink of glass and a bottle of scotch, Macallan 12, appeared on the desk, the Mayor's hand visible for less than a second in the shaft of light over Karl's chair.

"No." Karl raised the glass in his hand, two fingers of scotch still shifting within.

"That's not enough for a toast, young man! This is for your success, mine, and the city's. We mustn't scrimp lest we curse her and ourselves. Match mine." The Mayor's glass entered the light, full of what Karl guessed was a black rum from the spices wafting to him. Reluctantly, he set his glass beside the Mayor's and poured enough whiskey to suit his patron's demand, knowing he was already trapped in the deal he had never wanted.

'Oh hell,' he thought as the rich amber filled his glass, 'I can at least enjoy a golden cage for now.' As he stood to toast with the man who had more than just his jewels in a vice, he resolved to find Volkton's dirty laundry and surveillance depot. Then, they would be on even footing. No doubt there'll be a tape of this that might just save his neck if his competition ever escaped prison, or worse if he ever joined them in the big house. Both men drained their glasses dry, turning them over on the leather top of the desk, several rings showing from Karl's taller perspective. Clearly, this was not the first deal done in this manner.

"Now, go forth and conquer, Dionysus." Still, in shadow, Volkton's smile could only be heard in his voice as the pleasant burn of scotch warmed Karl's belly.

"Mayor." Karl nodded as he departed the office, thinking, 'Conquer the city, and conquer you, or I'll be left to hang on my own. Simple enough in theory.' As he left City Hall, he took a thorough account of the cameras within and about the grounds as he walked circuitously home in the noonday sun. Was his newfound paranoia helpful? No, Volkton already knew everything about him, but the long walk allowed him to breathe easier and to consider how and whom to tell in his crew how the game was changing. He almost had it figured out when he heard police sirens in the distance. None were coming to him, but to his ears, it sounded like every cop in the city had been unleashed. Volkton was moving faster than Karl anticipated, and with no way to know who in his organization was being grabbed alongside his competition, he needed to send orders fast. Or he would've, save for a new message on his burner. "Your crew is safe, DA knows who our friends are, and who's not. V."