MAFIA CITY
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CHAPTER 12
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|ROLLINS' PUB|
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The kind of silence which enveloped Rollins' office was like that that emerges just as a downpour cease flowing or immediately a raging storm calms. It could be termed a 'loud silence'. A guttural chuckle escaped Zapata's lips as he took a step which brought about a 'tear' in the silence. His step generated a 'click' sound with ominous feel dancing wildly in the room. On their seats, Macho and Rollins were shivering as if the air conditioning was too active, no! Fear! Yeah, fear! It was coursing through their bones and marrows.
Another step of the mysterious Zapata tore again the awkward silence which had stolen the moment again. His eyes glittered with mockery... Pride... Name it all. "So, you wanna plan on taking me down?"he finally spoke. His voice rigid as he stared piercingly at a shivering Rollins who—instantly—messed up his underpants with pee.
Rollins shook his head negatively. His lips quavered, and his face pale with fright. "No..."he rapsed. More like a whisper. Suddenly, his throat had dried up as he stared into plain torture which could be seen from Zapata's fiery eyes.
"And you"said Zapata as he turned around to stare at Macho, "Aren't you my puppet? A pawn in my game, what did you think you were? Tell me!"
His voice rang out with mockery lacing it. Suddenly, he bursted into a hearty laughter; evil laughter!
Macho's nostrils flared up and the velocity of his heartbeat increased. A feeling of foolishness raced through his mind as the fact was bared to him. He groaned lowly as he grabbed the bottle of tequila and gulped its content without much adue. The stuff burnt its way down his throat but, he didn't feel the effects. The pain in his heart was much more than that.
Silence prevailed again.
Zapata clapped. "Well, you may proceed with your plans,"he said now calmly. He turned towards the door as he made to exit the room. Immediately his hand was on the doorknob, he paused. "Macho, you've gat 48hours to do the needful else..."he said as he twisted the knob then went out.
The sound of broken glass took over the room instantly as Murphy held the neck of the bottle—broken bottle whose particles where on the desk. Rollins stood up with a heavy sigh. His face was crumpled in worry.
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FLASHBACK:
(Years ago)
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The resounding sound of gunshots ripped apart the little fabric of tranquility which was in the large hall—which was stacked with containers. Groans, yelps and cries accompanied by loud and soft thuds could be heard in the house as Don. Omar and his men engaged the Zap creed in a bloody battle. The leader of the Zap creed; Zapata Kruger could be seen laying waste to lives as two Glock-9 shook in his palms. He did a beautiful spin as he escaped a bullet which could have tore his head. Without hesitation, he sprayed the shooter with a good number of bullets before he took cover behind a container so as to changed his cartridge.
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The stench of blood and death which was everywhere in the warehouse was terrifying. Bodies and body parts lay and hung themselves all around.
"C'mon, end it now sucker!"Don. Omar's voice roared as Zapata pointed an already corked Ak-47 at him. Obviously, they were the only survivors of the gang battle that had taken place inside the warehouse.
Zapata chuckled briefly. "I surely will but...give me what I want first,"he said.
Boldly and daringly, Don. Omar said with a yell, "Go get it in hell, sucker!"
Zapata lowered the gun. "Killing you will be a waste to all my efforts but, I'll give you something to trigger your lips..."he said with a smile crossing his face. He drove his left hand into his chest pocket and withdrew a small device which he clicked. Suddenly, Don Omar groaned as something pierced him from behind and strange shocks ran through his body as he fell down, he was immobile.
"Bruhahahaha!"Zapata's laughter echoed through the warehouse. He dropped the gun as he strode toward Don Omar. Suddenly, he paused on his track and he turned around only to be welcomed by a bullet to his chest. He groaned. Another one followed... Then, another came again as he slowly fell down. Murphy came into the scene as he held an SMG with his right hand.
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|MURPHY'S RESIDENCE|
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A soft groan echoed in what looked like a silent and dimly lit room. A click sound pierced it as the room was thrown into absolute illumination. It was Murphy's room. The crew were revealed as they sat round his bed on which his frail looking form lay. Another groan sound came again as Murphy's eyes opened up slowly. As soon as his sight adjusted to the brightness, he exhaled aloud. He kept staring at the ceiling without diverting his attention as he could sense the crew all around him. Silence lingered in the room for about five minutes before he broke it.
"How long was I...?"he asked. Paused and swallowed his last intended word without removing his gaze from the ceiling.
"Two hours,"Oliver replied with a lowly tone.
Murphy sighed as he slowly took his right hand to his face.
He exhaled again. "I can't do this anymore."he stated plainly.
"What do you mean?"Oliver asked.
"I give up. I can't let you risk your lives 'cos of me. I'm done revenging... I'm gonna start a new life outside Oakfalls."
Murphy's statement came as a rude shock to the crew as Mabel, Oliver and Torino all sprang up instantly with slackened mouths. Surprise was lucidly written on their faces as they slowly glanced at each other.
"What?"Torino exclaimed.
Murphy exhaled as he cleared his throat. "I'm sorry guys but, I can't do this anymore... Doom! Then Zapata! It's just from a hot water into a boiling barrel of oil. I can't, you got lives to live bro,"he said.
Torino slowly shook his head like one who was about to be raped. "No, no, no! Murphy, this ain't you. You ain't weak bro."
Murphy smiled sadly as he shut his eyes in guilt. A rare kind of feeling bubbled up its way through his body system. He could feel the moistness of his eyes against his eyelids. Oh! No.
He hiccupped. His heart broke from within. "I'm sorry guys,"he whisperingly said.
Mabel was astounded. Oliver was dumbstruck while Torino was broken. "Obviously, you ain't in your right senses... We'll excuse you... When you have a better word other than giving up, call us back,"Torino said. He snapped his fingers as the three of them strode out of the room. Immediately the door jammed close, Murphy burst into tears as he shut his eyes. His lips quavered as he tried to muffle the sound of his cry. He lay still in the bed as the tears streamed out in torrents, his willpower slowly shattered. It was a gradual process—it had began to shatter since the day he saw Don Omar's severed head. He had just been 'manning up' not until now that it became vivid that he had a long way to go before achieving his aim of avenging his dead boss.
He opened his eyes and two tracks of man water escaped his orbs.
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|NEXT DAY|
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Murphy stepped out of his house as a 'click' sound of a lock could be heard immediately he twisted the lock of the door. He was clad in a grey hoodie, plain black trouser and his dark sunshades was on his face. He sighed as he turned around. His gaze flickered with pain and determination. Nothing was gonna stop him. He had made up his mind. He exhaled aloud, he dragged a grey travel box along as he made for his 2016 Black Ford Mustang which was parked at the garage. He pressed a button on the car's remote as it beeped aloud. He approached the trunk, opened it and dropped the travel box in it. He shut the trunk then, he proceeded to ignite the car.
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The drive was eerily silent as he drove past cars and other machines in kinetic state. From the car's stereo set, a sober tune filtered into the air. He continued to drive as he headed for the city outskirts.
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|OMAR'S CRIB|
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Nothing changed in the structure of the mansion but, there was a slight change in the look of the compound. During Omar's days, cars of various brands littered everywhere but now, there was a massive reduction in the number of cars in the compound. The wide compound where one could count up to thirty guards was now sparsely filled with less than ten guards. The 'eery-ness' of the compound and the dull looking weather that morning made the look of things awfully quiet.
Inside the mansion were Macho, Rollins, Zapata and another figure; Zapata's personal guard who was called Briggs. Zapata was sitting on the throne-like chair. He was clad in a blue shirt over a black pair of trousers. In Zapata's hands were crumpled paper sheets. A smirk tugged at a corner of his lips as he chuckled evilly. Suddenly, his facial expression went stoic as he faced Macho with a feral glare. This action frightened the latter as he gasped in fright and took two steps backwards stylishly.
Zapata growled. His eyes glowed cinders. "Where are the fvcking documents?"he asked.
Macho shivered as he threw his head away with his heart pounding hard. "I... I..."he stuttered.
"Speak!"
"I..."he tried again as he paused then, swallowed a lump in his throat. "... I could... Only lay my... Hands on the cars and Crib's document. I swear! I upturned everywhere in search of it. Please!"
Zapata grunted disapprovingly. He shook his head while he tried to simmer down but, he found it hard. "Trash!"he bellowed. "Trash!"he repeated as he stood up and made for the entrance. He halted his footsteps. "Get me the fvcking papers before I..."he was saying as the ringing of his phone interrupted the moment.
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Halfway to the next city, Murphy decided to take a break as his butts were on fire. Just as he marched hard on the brake, the car's velocity descended rapidly. Behind his own car, a red Bentley stopped too as it's occupant got down. It was DOOM!
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To be continued.