Retribution

Bobby lived in a luxury block of flats. The building was painted white, consisting of two floors. I found the door number. It was in the middle of the street, overlooking the sea. I checked the intercom. A list of names was illuminated, showing the names of the residence. Bobby's was the first, definitely the penthouse. How much I wanted to kick the door down, but I needed to be patient.

The roar of a car's engine filled the quietness of the night. A taxi stopped in the middle of the street. A few moments later a couple tumbled out of the vehicle, both of them intoxicated. As soon as the car door closed, the taxi speeded off down the street. The couple began to walk towards me. They were holding onto each other, not to fall over. I pretended to push one of the buttons on the intercom. Once they were next to me, I spoke.

"Come on Bobby, open the door, man," I said into the intercom.

"I'm sorry sir, I don't think there is anyone with that name in our building," the drunken man said. Both of them looked at me, their eyes slowly closing. Suddenly the woman's eyes shot open.

"Honey isn't that the scary guy on the top floor," she said.

The man's lips curled downwards like a sad clown. He said, "The one with the giant friend."

"You mean bigfoot, honey." She began to giggle, without stopping.

The man put his hand into his pocket, retrieving a key. It took him a while to open the front door. As they entered the building, the women started making retching sounds. "You're going to be sick again!" the man yelled. He grabbed her from the waist, helping her up the stairs. I stood there, holding the front door open.

"That wasn't too hard to get inside," I said. I grinned.

Now that I was inside, I needed to find somewhere to hide. It didn't take me long to find the perfect place. On the ground floor, was a gas/electricity utility cupboard. Inside were all the metres for each flat. The tiny room was big enough for me to sit on the floor with my legs crossed. I had the door slightly open, watching the front door. It was after four in the morning. My eyes began to feel heavy.

The sound of a bouncing ball, coming down the stair woke me up. I looked at my watch. It was nearly nine. I took a glimpse outside, along the corridor. It was a young boy. He had his arm curled around a football. With the other hand, he held his mother's hand. They left the building, the boy first, screaming, "come on mom."

I waited patiently. I watched the residents come and go. The young boy with his mother returned. The couple I saw in the early hours of the morning, they were sober this time. An older couple appeared, they were wearing identical sheepskins. The old woman was holding a Chihuahua in her arm. The dog looked towards my direction. It began to bark.

"Stop it, Lilly," the old woman said. The dog stopped instantly. It made a growling sound then looked away.

I released a sigh of relief.

It was nearly midday. I was still in the utility room in a seated position, legs crossed. I had my eyes closed, not sleeping just resting. The sound of crackling leather on the steps made me open my eyes wide. I had a feeling it was Bobby. I looked through the gap on the door. I saw Goliath. He opened the front door for Bobby.

"What's on the schedule today boss?" Goliath asked.

"We have to collect some money," Bobby answered.

They both jumped into a Porsche Cayenne, with Goliath behind the steering wheel. The luxury Cayenne's double exhaust spat out a stream of clear smoke as they drove off.

I flew up the stairs, taking two steps at a time. Like the ground floor, the first and second floor consisted of three flats on each level. On the third, there was only one flat. It was Bobby's penthouse. I had to get inside. I was lucky. The lock on the front door was a Pin tumbler lock. Another skill I needed to know in my previous profession was to be able to pick locks. All it took was ten minutes, and I was inside.

I planned to wait for him until he returned, but I skipped the idea. The penthouse was a three bedroom. The bed in the master bedroom was unmade. Also in one of the other bedrooms, the bed was the same, messy. Goliath lives here as well, protecting Bobby 24/7. If I wait, I will need to deal with both of them at the same time. I had to think of something else. I searched each room, looking for anything I could use against Bobby. Without success, I decided to get out of there before the two goons returned. On my way out, my vision caught a card sitting on top of some letters. It was an invitation to a Christmas party, which was at a cocktail bar in Brighton. It was for tonight. I pulled my smartphone out of my pocket and took a photo of the address on the card.

Once again the google map directed me to the address on the invitation card. It was a fancy cocktail bar near The Brighton Pier. I had a few hours to kill until the bar opened. My stomach began to make rumbling sounds. I needed to get something to eat. A large fish & chips meal is what I needed.

I was at the cocktail bar one hour before the Christmas party. I walked towards the entrance, trying to blend in with the crowd around me. One of the bouncers held his arm out in front of me, stopping me from entering. With a series expression, he looked at me, studying the cut on my cheek.

"We're not going to have any trouble from you right?" the bouncer said.

"No sir everything is good," I replied.

He carried on looking at the cut on my face. "How did that happen?" he asked. He nodded towards my face.

"Silly accident I had at work, sir." I smiled at him.

"The public is allowed around the bar area, behind the rope barrier it's a private party," he explained. Lowering his hand, he let me enter.

With a pint of beer in my hand, I found a dark corner and sat down. I waited in anticipation for Bobby to arrive.

Chapter 11

Everyone around me was getting into the Christmas spirit, enjoying themselves. I stayed glued on that seat. With eyes like a hawk, I observed each person that walked through the entrance. As the evening progressed more customers rolled into the cocktail bar. It made it difficult for me to see everyone while being seated. I need to walk around.

Sipping on my beverage, I casually walked towards the rope barrier. A small section of the rope was unhooked. A couple in their late fifties stood by the barrier post; they were the guests of honour. The couple looked towards me and smiled.

"Did we have to send you an invitation to come? Come here and hug your old man? The man screamed.

The hard shove on my shoulder spilt most of my drink. The man who bumped into me carried on walking without apologising. He embraced the couple. It was Bobby. I panicked. I looked around for Goliath. He wasn't here.

It was a family party. I watched every move Bobby made. He would go from one table to the other, greeting his family members, joking and smiling with everyone. I watched and waited for my chance. Without Goliath protecting him, Bobby was easy prey.

It was late, almost midnight. Bobby embraced and kissed his mother on the cheek. With his father, it was only a hand gesture. He started to walk towards the exit, I followed him. When he was outside, he pulled his smartphone out of his pocket and made a call. I watched him from a distance, regretting I didn't get closer to hear what he was saying. He lit up a cigarette, taking a deep puff every few seconds. A taxi pulled up. Bobby exchanged words with the driver. In the back seat of the cab sat an attractive blonde. She opened the window; Bobby kissed her passionately before the taxi drove off. He was on his smartphone again. He lit up another cigarette, this time smoking it slowly as he waited.

He flicked the cigarette to the ground, and then casually began walking toward The Brighton Pier. I was behind him, not too close and not too far. I should have known when he went down the step towards the beach that it was a trap. I walked straight into the ambush.

There wasn't much light below The Brighton Pier. Suddenly, I felt someone grab my arm. Within seconds I was overpowered, thrown across the beach.

There I was, face down on the pebbles. The bitter December cold was not helping much. I felt the chill run down my spine, giving me goose bumps all over. I attempted to overpower the giant, but Goliath wouldn't have it. He pushed his huge boot down onto my back vigorously, making it difficult for me to move or breath.

"What do you want me to do boss?" Goliath yelled, in a deep muscular voice.

"Release him," Bobby answered.

As the force of his boot decreased, I heaved for air, taking a deep breath, inflating my lungs with fresh oxygen. Once I gained my respiration, I raised my head. My sight fixed to what was ahead. Bobby advanced closer to me, all I recognised was his silhouette, but I knew it was him from his posture.

He stopped a few feet away from me, stood there staring at me for a moment before he attacked me with questions. "Who are you? Why were you following me? For whom are you working for?" The emphasis of his voice demanded an answer.

He retrieved a cigarette lighter from his pocket and inflamed his cigarette. The small flame from the zippo had shed enough light to reveal his face. I gritted my teeth on seeing the man that caused my family and me so much sorrow. He stepped closer, manoeuvred the flame around, analysing my face. For a split second, he seemed confused. He then took a step back, with an expression of shock on his face. Was it the deformity on my cheek or recognition that disturbed him? I wasn't sure.

"Can I finish him off now boss?" my assaulter asked. He reminded me of a child who asks for approval, before doing something.

"Kill him!" Bobby ordered the giant. He then turned around and walked away, vanishing into the night.

Goliath grabbed the back of my jacket, lifted me off the ground like a rag doll. He threw me across the beach. With both, his fists clenched he closed in for the attack. This time I was ready, I rolled to the left. He went crashing onto the pebbles. I had to get the baton which was strapped to my ankle. I went for the weapon, quickly wrapping my hand around the handle, ripping it off the tape. He was back on his feet. He rushed towards me, this time more aggressively. His right fist came crashing onto my cheek, knocking me down onto one knee. Before he could strike me with his left fist, I buried the baton end into his ribs. He went flying back, hold his side.

"That's what pain feels like you fuck, and there is a lot more to come," I yelled.

He gritted his teeth in a rage, let out an angry growl before he attacked again. He swung his right fist; I dodged it this time by leaning back. He swung his left fist. I ducked this time. I slammed the baton again into his ribs. I heard something crunch this time. He was down. He brought his hand up to protect his rib cage. It was my turn to go for the kill. I brought my weapon down with force across his eyebrow. The blow split the skin open, blinding him with his blood. He was down on his knees, giving me the advantage I needed. I jumped onto his back, wrapping my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. He tried to get up, but I tightened my grip, digging my heels into his side. This time he went crashing down, but I held onto him. He was getting weaker. His breathing was getting shallower. His last manoeuvre, with his hand he tapped me on the arm.

"No tap outs this time," I said. I tightened my arms, with all my strength, Goliath stopped breathing. "Sweet dreams Goliath," I whispered.

I kicked his limp body away from me. I took a moment to get my respiration back before I searched Goliath's lifeless body. A set of keys, a smartphone and a wallet is all I found on him. In his line of work, you would think he would have some kind of weapon on him. I guess his fists were his weapon. I took the cash out of the wallet before throwing it next to his body. I wanted it to look like a robbery.

My next destination was Bobby's flat. When I got to Sussex Square, it was after two in the morning. I used Goliath's keys to get into the building. Within a minute, I was outside Bobby's flat. I slowly unlocked the front door, entered the premises quietly not to be heard. All the lights inside the flat were switched off. The only illumination was coming from the street lights. It created a large shadow on the opposite wall. I went to the living room area which was on my left. I froze on the spot when I saw Bobby sitting on the couch. He had his back to me, preoccupied with his phone.

"Come on Max answer your fucking mobile," he said into the mouthpiece.

With the baton I struck him over the head, knocking him out instantly.

I sat opposite him and waited patiently. Bobby began to move, rubbing the back of his head, mumbling words I didn't understand, he was still dazed.

"Merry Christmas Bobby," I said.

He shot up in a sitting position, looked to his left and right before staring straight at me. "You are fucking dead when Max returns!" Bobby screamed.

"You mean your seven-foot henchman." He was talking about Goliath. "He's dead," I coldly said.

He was speechless.

"Do you recognise me," I said.

He just nodded his head.

"Why? Why my wife and me? What did we ever do to you? I screamed.

"I've got money. I've got £100,000 in the safe in the bedroom."

I got up. "Let's go," I said. Bobby led the way to the master bedroom, stopping next to the bed, facing the wardrobe. He pointed his index finger at the door. I slid the door open, revealing a safe box. It was a digital safe. All I needed was the number.

"What's the number?" I said.

He didn't say anything.

"I'm not going to ask you again. I'm going to force it out of you next time."

He just stared at me. "You haven't got it in you," that was his response.

Ten minutes later the safe was open. Bobby was sitting on the floor, leaning against the bed. A rolled up pair of socks stuffed in his mouth, blocking out his screams. His legs stretched out with both his kneecaps smashed. I took the cash from the safe, which I stuffed into a small bag I found in the wardrobe. I was ready to go.

I pulled the socks out of Bobby's mouth. "You know I have to kill you now," I said.

He looked at me and began to laugh. He wouldn't stop laughing. When he finally finished, he said.

"I was paid £10,000 to kill you. That's how much your father-in-law paid me. While his daughter was running away from me, the dumb bitch ran into an oncoming car. We had instructions not to touch a hair on her. You were the target." He continued to laugh.

The hard blow to his larynx stopped the laughing. His hands went to his neck, pulling at his throat, but there was nothing he could do. His airflow was blocked. I watched his lips go purple, and his eyes were wide open as he struggled to breathe. A minute later he stopped moving. I checked his pause. He was dead.

It was seven in the morning when I got onto the National Express to go back to London. By ten in the morning, the taxi pulled up outside St. Barnabas Church.

Chapter 12

Father Petrou's voice woke me up. I checked the time. It was gone two in the afternoon. I lay there on the bed for a moment, just staring at the ceiling.

"Tony, have you woken up yet?" Father Petrou called.

"Give me a minute, Father."

"I'll be in my office," he replied.

Fifteen minutes later I walked into Father Petrou's office, under my arm the bag containing the money. My good friend, the priest, was reading from the bible which was spread open on his desk. If I hadn't coughed, he wouldn't have noticed me standing there.

"Merry Christmas, Father Petrou," I said.

"A Merry Christmas to you Tony." He smiled. "I didn't see you all day yesterday. Did you spend the day with Julie?" he asked.

"I was in Brighton. I had some unfinished business down there."

I put the bag on the desk, in front of Father Petrou. He looked at it, then at me, finally gazed back at the bag. He closed the bible he was reading, putting it to the side. He pulled the bag nearer. He slowly unzipped it, spreading the opening wider to look inside. He took a deep breath then exhaled. He retrieved the bloody baton from inside the bag, putting it on his desk. His eyes fixed on the contents inside the bag.

"I found them, Father Petrou; I made them pay for what they did to Julie and me." I pulled the two photographers out of my pocket, putting them beside the baton. "It's all over now, no more," I said.

Father Petrou put his hands together, locking his fingers together. He looked down and closed his eyes. I watched his lips move. He was praying. When he finished, he lifted his head and opened his eyes. He took another deep breath before he said.

"Is that where they are from?"

"Yes."

He glanced at the baton. "Is that their blood?" He gestured his hand towards the weapon.

I nodded my head. "I did what I had to do Father," I said without the sound of regret in my voice.

His stare moved to the bag. "How much is in the bag?" Father Petrou asked.

"Give or take £70,000."

"Jesus Christ!" he screamed. He looked behind me, worried someone heard him. He waited a moment before he continued, "You have to go away for a while. I will get rid of all this." He looked at the weapon and photos. Then turned to the bag, he put his hand over it. He smiled. "The blood money, it will feed a lot of hungry people. I will call Father Demetriou to expect you." He wrote the address on a piece of paper, putting it in my hand.

"You have been like an older brother to me," I said. I embraced him, not wanting to let go.

"We will see each other again my friend. Get out of here. I need to clean up around here before I go." He gathered the items from his desk, dumping them in a cupboard on the bookcase. "I'll deal with that tomorrow. I have to be somewhere today, and I'm already late because of you." We embraced each other again before I left his office.

I packed everything I owned which wasn't much, in a Lifeventure Expedition Duffel bag.

I was ready to go.

The last coach to Liverpool was at eight in the evening. I still had four hours until then. I had plenty of time to go and see Julie, and I did promise my mother-in-law to meet her at the hospital today. The taxi driver put his foot down on the accelerator, getting us to Chase Farm Hospital in record time.

I was all smiles, walking towards Julie's bed. The curl on my lips dropped from what I saw. Sitting beside Julie's bed was my father-in-law. My mother-in-law on the other side of the bed, she was stroking Julie's hair. She had her back to me.

"Merry Christmas," I said.

Mary quickly turned smiling at me. "Merry Christmas," she replied. She rushed over, embraced me and kissing me on both cheeks.

I stood there frozen.

My father-in-law wasn't too happy to see me.

"Is everything ok, Tony?" Mary said.

I grabbed the curtain end, sliding it along the rail, giving us privacy from the people around us. My eyes were like daggers on my father-in-law. He wouldn't even look at me.

"Could someone tell what is going on?" Mary said a little too loud.

"Why don't you ask Harry?" I yelled. My eyes glued on my father-in-law.

He sat there, still looking at the ground.

I retrieved an envelope of cash from the inside of my jacket, threw it across the bed. The envelope landed on my father-in-law's chest, some of the notes spilling out, dropping onto the ground.

"Harry paid £10,000 to make me disappear," I turned to my mother-in-law, tears in my eyes. "Who paid the price? Julie did!" I yelled

My mother-in-law stood there with her hand over her mouth.

I kissed my wife on the lips. I whispered in her ear, "Merry Christmas my angel."

I rushed out of the ward. I needed to get out of there before I did something to my father-in-law. My mother-in-law came after me, stopping me at the entrance of the hospital.