What's one more lie

Terry took a bucket of cold water and threw it into the face of an unconscious man as he yelled, “rise and shine, sleeping beauty!”

The man’s eyes almost jumped out of his head. Moving his hands to wipe his face, he suddenly realize his wrist were zip-tied to a ring on top of an old, rusty metal table. As his brown eyes began to focus, he noticed he was in a dungeon type room with no windows. Maybe a basement. Hard for him to tell. Then he looked up at the fluorescent lights covered in cobwebs. His eyes were sore like he hadn’t opened them in days. A rat ran across his foot, startling him further. Then the musty stitch made its way into his nose causing him to gag and cough. The room was cold, and with his body covered in water, his began to shiver. He jerked his arms, twisting and turning trying to break free with no luck. Then his eyes finally found the silhouette of Terry. He couldn’t see his face or any distinguishing features as he shouted out, “where the hell am I? How did I get here? And why am I tied up?”

Terry sat the bucket down on the table. As he moved closer his presence casted a massive shadow over the entire room. Grabbing the chair that was directly in front of the man, he took a seat as he said in a deep menacing voice, “what’s the last thing you remember?”

The man’s brain was still a little fuzzy as he struggled to remember what happened. He closed his eyes and concentrated for a moment until the memory popped into his head like a software update, “I just got off work from the bar. I locked up. Made it home. Then as I was about to put the key in the door, next thing I know everything went black.” The adrenaline coursing through his veins allowed him to ignore the knot on the back of his head and the pain it caused. But as that adrenaline wore off, the throbbing slowly started to increase. He attempted to reach for the back of his head, but was reminded once again that his wrists were tied up. Pulling and wiggling in frustration he said, “you kidnapped me. Why?”

“You are here because you have information that is extremely important to my employer. And while everything you remember is true. You left out one important detail from last night’s events. The money drop that you were supposed to make for a Reggie Ridgeway.”

The man leaned forward to get a better look at Terry. But staring into Terry’s face was like staring into death itself. Eyes that were darker than the deepest coal mine. A strong jawline that looked like he could bite through steal. And a chiseled physique that was about to burst through the seams of the finely woven brown button-down shirt he was wearing. Scared, the man’s left eye started to twitch as he carefully explained, “There’s gotta be some kind of mistake. I don’t know anything about a money drop or a Ridgeway. I think you got the wrong guy.”

Terry casually reached for a folder at the far end of the table. He pulled out a driver’s license, set it on the table, and slid it in front of the man as he replied, “No, we have the right man, Ryan Walker of 849 Cambridge dr. Originally from east St. Louis. Dropped out of high school in the tenth grade. Divorced in 2015. No kids. You moved here five years ago and you’ve been bartending at Charlie’s since.”

Ryan showed Terry the palms of his hands and soften his voice to a sympathetic plea as he explained, “look…obviously you know a lot about me, but I swear I don’t know about a drop or some guy named Ridgeway.” Then his left eye began to twitch again.

Terry pulled another sheet of paper out his file. A photo of Ridgeway and Ryan together and placed it in front of Ryan, “It’s funny how you say you don’t know this man since he owns Charlie’s.”

Ryan’s mouth started moving before he knew what he was going to say. His left eye twitched again as he finally got out, “I didn’t know that was his real name. I thought he was the Charlie that the bar was named after. You got to believe me. I don’t know nothing about a money drop.”

Terry stood up and motioned to the steel door that had a large peephole. It crept open sounding like an old rollercoaster climbing to its apex right before it drops. Three more thuggish looking men covered in tattoos came strutting in. Two of them went and stood behind Ryan. The other guy held another bucket full of water.

“You ever play poker, Ryan?”

“I don’t gamble,” Ryan nervously replied shaking his head as his eyes darted back and forth, trying to keep all the men in his sight.

Terry flashed a sinister grin. “A lot of people make the same mistake you just made. They think poker is gambling, luck. It isn’t. It’s a skill. A very unique skill. You have to be able to spot a tell while simultaneously hiding your own tell. Unlucky for you, this just happens to be my god given gift. It’s what makes me great at breaking people. That’s how I could pick up your tell so quickly.”

“What, what are you talking about?” Ryan asked between deep breaths.

Terry started to roll up his sleeves. Then he pointed to Ryan’s left eye. “Your left eye twitches every time you lie. That’s your tell. But I’m going to give you another chance to get it right. Where is the money you were supposed to drop off last night?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ryan said nervously as his left eye twitched once again.

Terry exhaled loudly before nodding to the two guys behind Ryan as he said, “looks like we have to do things the hard way.”

One of the guys, who had a nasty looking scar on his cheek, swiftly whipped out a box cutter and slashed the zip-ties loose. Then he snatched a wrist and zip-tied it to the arm of the chair. While his counterpart, a man with a glass eye that looked like an 8-ball from a pool table, did the same thing to the other wrist. Making it impossible for Ryan to move. Then they leaned him back and placed a towel over his face as Ryan screamed in horror. The third guy, who had the face of a boxer and a nose that looked like it had been broken several times, walked over with the bucket of water. He slowly poured it over Ryan’s face as he squirmed and choked, simulating the feeling of drowning. A brutal torture technic that’s pure hell. And just about the moment when he sounded like he had stopped breathing, broken nose stopped pouring water, took off the towel, and let Ryan catch his breath. As he began breathing normally, they once again started the process all over. Taking Ryan to the edge of death. Until finally, Terry ordered the men to stop.

Terry walked over and knelt in front of Ryan. Wiping his face dry with a towel. Locking eyes with him as he revealed, “I don’t think you realize just how serious a situation you find yourself in. You see I was hired by, Velli.”

The name, Velli, changed the whole mood in the room. Suddenly there was a chill in the air. It became so quiet you could hear that rat’s footsteps. The lights shinned brighter from some reason. And everyone’s asshole got a little tighter. Even those rough and tumble thugs all looked around at each other wide eyed. They were as nervous as Ryan upon hearing that news.

“Judging by the response you all know who Velli is?” Terry asked.

Ryan, who was trying to catch his breath, shook his head and said, “who is Velli?”

The Scarface man grinned his yellow teeth as he replied, “he’s the baddest motherfucker since El Chapo in the dope game!”

The Broken nose brother wrapped his caramel hand around his own neck as he interjected, “I heard he cut the head off his own brother for stealing from him.”

And the glass eye man raised a bushy eyebrow as he added, “the man is untouchable. The Feds don’t even know his real name. I heard he runs his business from a private plane. You never know where he’s at,” he said as he locked eyes with Ryan, “you’re fucked!”

Terry’s eyes followed the voices around the room until they made their way back to Ryan. Terry put a hand on Ryan’s shoulder and said, “Velli is all those thing. He’s also a man that values loyalty, integrity, and keeping your word. But above all, he’s a business man. And he entered into a business arrangement with your boss, Reggie Ridgeway. Product in exchange for half a million dollars. Money that should’ve been delivered here two night ago. Now, he hired me, so I speak for him,” Terry explained making eye contact with Ryan and then everyone else, “tell me where the money is. Once I have it in my hands, I’ll let you go. You have my word and the word of, Velli.”

Ryan looked around at each man, then he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. When he opened them he said, “I was going to deliver it. On everything I love, I was going to deliver it. Tell Mr. Velli and Reggie that I was on my way to the drop. But what had happened was….my lady had an emergency. Somebody broke into her crib. Stole her dog. Tore the apartment up. So I stashed the bag in the ceiling of the bathroom and I went over to help her. You guys grabbed me before I had the chance to deliver it.”

“You did the right thing telling me this,” Terry said with a friendly pat on Ryan’s shoulder. He stood up and pointed to the door. “You three get over there and get that bag.”

*

The three men were standing at Ryan’s front door thirty minute later. On a knee, glass-eye used his one good eye to pick the standard deadbolt lock while the other two stood watch. After making their way inside, they saw an apartment that was a mess. Cloths everywhere, tables full of dust, a sink full of dishes, and an ashtray filled with cigarette butts that had the place reeking. Scarface pushed his way pass the others and quickly made his way into the bathroom. He instantly spotted a loose title in the ceiling. Standing on the toilet, he pushed up on the title and felt around until his fingers touched leather.

“I found it,” he shouted to the other guys as he stood on his tippy toes to so that he could get a grip on the bag.

They came into the bathroom right as he was setting the bag on the sink. Huddled in the tiny bathroom that smelled of piss, their eyes widened as Scarface unzipped the duffle bag to reveal the mounds of cash inside. Each guy pulled out a stack of old beaten up cash that was held together by worn rubber-bands.

“Damn! He was telling the truth,” glass-eye said almost drooling over the money.

The broken-nose man side-eyed both men as he added, “Are you guys thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Yeah….it would be nice to cut this up three ways. But shit…. Terry will hunt or asses down by the end of day. We better off taking this money back and getting our cut,” Scarface interjected.

“Exactly. I’m not trying to have this, Velli motherfucker after me for the rest my life,” glass-eye added.

Broken nose cracked a sinister smile as he explained, “but he won’t be after us if we play it right. Look, this bartender been lying to us since the moment we took him. You can’t believe shit he say. If we go back and tell Terry the money wasn’t here, how he gonna know. It’ll be one more lie this guy told. And Velli…. we never met the man. Terry hired us. If he doesn’t recover the money, that’s on him.”

“Hmm…. that’s not a bad idea,” Scarface responded with a slight nod.

“Wait a minute. Did you hear Terry talking about playing poker?” Glass-eye said putting the money back in the bag, “his god given gift is spotting liars. He’ll catch our three lying asses in mid-sentence.”

“Well, first of all, we ain’t zip-tied to a chair. Second, we never lied to him before, so how is going to figure out our tell,” Broken-nose said in a pleading tone trying to get Scarface on his side, who looked like he was starting to change his mind a bit. Then he stuck his head out the bathroom door to make sure no one was there. Dropping his voice to a whisper he said, “nobody but the three of us will ever know. We split up the cash. Keep quiet. Don’t buy anything big. Shit…nobody will ever know.”

Scarface tossed the cash in his hand back into the bag as he said, “alright. I’m down. Three way split. But I’ll only do it if we all down.”

The room fell silent as the sound of people walking by outside could be heard through the thin walls. Scarface and broken–nose’s eyes burned a hole through glass-eye as they waited for an answer from him. Feeling the pressure, glass-eye looked down shaking his head and replied, “I don’t know man. Terry has been good to us.”

“C’mon man. Stop being a pussy,” broken-nose snapped at glass-eye as he grabbed a handful full of bills and fanned it in front of his face, “you really gonna pass up the chance to get a piece of five-hundred thousand? Five-hundred thousand dollars! We can work for Terry forever and never come close to making that kind of bread.”

Glass-eye breathed out and bit down on his lower lip, deep in thought. He shook his head again before another long pause. Then he finally responded, “alright.”

Broken-nose’s face curled into a devious smile as he explained, “so this is what where going to do…”

*

The three men showed back up at the abandon warehouse, in the middle of nowhere, on the edge of a forgotten side of the city. As they walked through what appeared to be an old slaughter house, they struggled with their nerves. Looking at each other one last time, they put on stoic faces before opening the steel door. Terry was sitting there facing the door with his arms folded. While Ryan, who was still in the chair behind the metal table, leaned forward with anticipation.

Broken-nose stepped forward as his eyes darted back and forth between Terry and Ryan. Then that lie came falling out of his mouth. Effortlessly, like breathing, “the money wasn’t there.”

Terry sighed while lowering his head, “you sure you looked everywhere?”

“Everywhere. It wasn’t there,” Broken nose lied without flinching. If they were playing poker, he could’ve had a royal flush and nobody would have known from his blank expression.

Ryan leaned forward in his chair. He looked each man in the eye, into the deepest parts of their soul. And then asked in a magnanimous tone, “Are you telling me that you didn’t find a leather bag full of cash right above the toilet?

“Nothing,” broken-nose reiterated as glass-eye and Scarface backed him up with a nod.

Terry and Ryan exchanged glances before shaking their heads, “this is disappointing news. Don’t you think Ryan?”

“Very disappointing,” Ryan added looking at the three men in disgust.

Terry stood up and walked away from the men and toward Ryan. He reached into his waistband and wrapped his hands around a chrome forty-five handgun. As he slowly raised it toward Ryan, he quickly turned and pointed the gun at the three men, just as Ryan grabbed a hidden gun from under the table, rose to his feet, and aimed his gun at the men too.

Confused, the three men slowly retreated with their hands up as they said, “what the hell is going on here?”

As Ryan walked around the table, he pulled out a phone with his free hand. Then he played a video for the men. The video was a recording of their conversation in Ryan’s bathroom as they took the money. Ryan just shook his head as he placed the phone on the table and said, “I gave you clowns every opportunity to prove yourself. And you fucked me the first chance you got.”

Scarface took a small step in front of the other frighten men and asked, “what do mean you gave an opportunity?”

“I am Velli. Short for Machiavelli. I would’ve thought you would’ve figured that out,” Ryan revealed.

The men’s mouths were on the floor. Their brains scrambled like eggs trying to make sense of what just happened.

“I took the name Machiavelli because when I studied his work, I found I shared his vision of deception and ruthless tactics to achieve my goals. Which is why you’re here. This whole thing was a test. A test of loyalty and trust because I was looking to add three new men to my organization. A position that would pay you millions. But you were tempted by the money,” Ryan said.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Glass- eye shouted as he crouched down and pleaded, “if you watched that video, you know I really didn’t want any part in this. I was pressured into it.”

“I don’t want motherfuckers who fold under pressure,” Ryan snapped as he and Terry fired, killing all three men…...

The End