The Things We Do For Money...

“Ya homar,” The man cursed, his voice muffled because of the black bag over his head “What are you doing? Untie me right now.” He tries to grasp free from the tight clutches of the rope, but his attempts were to no avail.

My brother looked at Mr. Gonzalez, our ‘employer’, for a moment. Gonzalez nodded in response, before Jacob removed the bag from over the man’s head.

“Mustapha! It’s nice to see you again, man.” said Gonzalez sarcastically, as he sat opposite to the tied kidnapee.

Mustapha squinted for a couple of seconds, trying to adjust his eyes to the lighting of the room. He moved his head around, observing the scene. There was blood dripping from his beard, acting as a reminder of how Jacob knocked him out cold. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for the guy. From what I had heard, he was a Syrian refugee seeking asylum in the United States, having to flee his home country to save his family’s life.

Why did you borrow money from this scumbag, dude? I thought to myself, knowing deep down that he didn’t really have a choice. It was either that, or be homeless and starve to death.

I looked at Jacob to see if he felt a hint of sympathy, but all I saw was a man determined to finish the job. I wished I had my brother’s lack of empathy.

Focus, there will be time for self-pity later.

“I said I’ll pay you back when I get the money.”

“I do remember you saying that, yet you’ve never actually paid me.”

“I don’t have the money right now!” Replied Mustapha. I admired his courage, not many people would dare speak with such confidence when tied down to a chair. “Just give me two more mon-“ He was interrupted by Jacob punching him in the face.

Mustapha spat a couple of broken teeth on the ground. He raised his head and stared at Jake with eyes full of rage, only to be punched one more time. I flinched.

“Excuses, excuses...You know, Mustapha, I have been very lenient with you. If it was someone else, they would’ve executed your whole family by now. You wouldn’t want to watch your daughter die before your eyes now, would ya?” A smirk appeared across his face, “What was her name again? Maryam?”

“DON’T YOU BRING MY FAMILY INTO THIS!” Yelled Mustapha.

Rather than be intimidated, Gonzalez just laughed. I wanted to smash that man’s face right there and then.

Calm down, Jimmy, it’s just an act. He wouldn’t actually harm that guy’s daughter...Right? RIGHT?

Music started playing all of a sudden. I searched for the source of the sound, to find it coming from Gonzalez’s pocket. He pulled out his iPhone, stared at the screen for a moment, before saying “I gotta take this. Keep an eye on him, will ya?”

“Where are you going? YABNEL METNAKA!” cursed the Syrian man, as he watched Gonzalez stand up and walk away to answer the phone call. Mustapha opened his mouth to blurt out a few more curses, but was stopped with my brother’s fist smashing his nose. As I watched the sight of blood going down his face, I just couldn’t take it anymore.

What are we doing? I thought to myself. There’s got to be better ways to make money.

I waited for Gonzalez to leave the room, before quickly turning to Jacob.

“I-I can’t do this anymore, Jake. This isn’t right. This is not who we are.” I pleaded, only for Jacob to frown at me. He definitely did not appreciate me ruining the intimidating atmosphere that he had created.

Rather than yell at me though, he pulled me to a corner of the room where the man couldn’t hear us. “We’ve discussed this, Jimmy” He whispered, “Mr. Gonzalez is going to pay us handsomely for this. We just have to intimidate this punk. That’s all there is to it.”

“Did you not hear what he said? He said he was going to kill his family!”

“It’s just an act. Gonzalez is just a businessman, he doesn’t have it in him.”

“B-but...”

Jacob interrupted, “We need the money, Jimmy.”

I always looked up to my brother, he was everything that I wasn’t. He was bigger than me, stronger than me. Always knew how to handle himself. However, at that very moment, for the first time in my life, I was disgusted by what he had become: A thug-for-hire, whose only motivation is making money at the expense of innocent folks.

“Anyways, I gotta take a piss. Just keep an eye on him.” Said Jacob, before power-walking to the door. As he opened it, I could hear Gonzalez yelling on the phone in the other room. The door was shut, leaving me alone with the Arabian man.

Mustapha raised his head and stared at me through watery eyes. For the first time since we dragged him into this empty room, I could see that he wasn’t feeling hopeless anymore. He definitely sensed that I hadn’t had much experience with these sorts of jobs. To him, I was just a naive 18-year-old kid.

“Please, untie me. Get me out of here!”

I gave no response.

“This crazy man is going to kill my family! Please, kid, you have to untie me so I can get them to safety!”

I tried resisting myself from replying, “I-I can’t. He’s right outside this door, if I do something stupid he might kill me and my brother.”

Despite what Jacob told me, I knew Gonzalez wasn’t merely a businessman. Lending people money at extremely high interest rates? Kidnapping a man and threatening to kill his family? There was something fishy about him. I couldn’t risk him doing something to me and my family.

“Dammit kid!” He almost yelled, before lowering his voice again, “I know you’re not like them. It’s not who you are. Do the right thing and untie me, and I’ll figure out what to do from there.”

He was right. I was a lot of things, but this was too much, even for me. I’m sorry, Jacob. I went behind the man’s back and quickly started fiddling with the knots. But just as the rope slithered away and fell on the floor, the door burst open. It was Gonzalez.

I looked at him with eyes full of fear, and quickly lowered my gaze to look at Mustapha’s hands. Thankfully, he had the presence of mind to keep his hands behind his back.

“Has this terrorist been giving you any trouble?” Asked Gonzalez, he was too preoccupied with the phone call he just had to wonder what I was doing standing behind Mustapha’s chair.

Mustapha, now with a newfound sense of bravery, spat right in the Mexican’s face. “Don’t call me a terrorist!” He proceeded to throw a few Arabic curses in Gonzalez’s direction. The so-called ‘businessman’ wiped the saliva off his face with the sleeve of his shirt, before striding towards Mustapha. I could sense that he was about to punish him harshly.

Just as I was starting to feel even more sympathy for the man, Mustapha sprung from his chair and quickly tackled his kidnapper to the ground. He then pulled his fist back, ready to pummel Gonzalez with a few punches of his own.

BANG!

The sound of a gunshot echoed through the room, and I watched as Mustapha slowly fell on his back. A steady stream of blood was going down from his forehead, where I could see a bullethole.  

Gonzalez slowly stood up, revolver still in hand. He stared down at the corpse for a moment, and his brain started connecting the dots. “It was you!” He said angrily, as he aimed the weapon in my direction, “You untied him! I knew I shouldn’t have trusted a bunch of low-life scumbags.”

I closed my eyes, knowing full well that it was too late to react. I caused the death of an innocent man, and now I was about to be killed for acting recklessly.

Suddenly, I heard the door burst open. As I slowly opened my eyes, I watched as Gonzalez fell face first on the floor, and behind him stood Jacob. The gun was released from his hands and slid across the floor, towards me.

I looked at the weapon, and back at Jacob. We both knew what had to be done. I reached down for the gun, and slowly aimed it at the fallen man. I closed my eyes one more time...

And I pulled the trigger.