Satisfaction

It all started with the swindler four years previous.

The man had stolen everything from him. His money, his house, his possessions, he could care less about. But his family? That was another matter entirely. 

The hotel in front of him loomed, casting a shadow across his face. He glanced down at the card in his hand, checked the address. Yes, this was where the swine lived. The man had grown rich and had moved his base of operation to this hotel, the Apex. He also knew his usual hang out was at the bar, located inside the casino, where he enjoyed luring men such as himself into risking fortunes on false advertisements. 

He forced himself to concentrate, took a breath, and crossed the street to the doorman, who welcomed him warmly. Stepping inside, he surveyed his surroundings, not bothering to gaze at the intricate décor. With a fast pace, he weaved his way through the area crowded by guests, bellhops, managers, and attendants. Stopping a woman who wore the uniform of a hotel employee, he inquired where the casino was. After being directed down a long hall that split off in three directions and being told to take a left, then to enter the door on the right, he thanked her and left hurriedly.

         He took brisk strides, watching the security personnel out of the corners of his eyes, and glanced at the cameras mounted on the ceiling. The guards suspected nothing, and he hoped it would stay that way. He passed Greek and Roman oil paintings portraying mythological scenes and a few tapestries that hung like curtains over glass panes. He ignored these things.

         Though he wished desperately to reach the casino quickly, it seemed Providence was against him. A group of women milled in front of him, blocking the hall as they praised the talented hands that had crafted the beautiful work of art before them. It was the tiniest of vases they admired. As he waited for them to move, he turned the idea of asking them to part the way for him over in his head. He decided against it, wanting as little interaction as possible.

         Finally, they moved on, and he squeezed through the cramped space and retreated from them. He breathed a sigh as he saw his destination. The door on the right. The casino. It was guarded by two security men who stared at the wall before them with blank expressions. He paused a few paces from them. 

         Turning to one of the glass panes, he straightened the cuffs of his shirt, pulled at his tie, and smoothed out his jacket. Checking his reflection, he patted down his hair. He hated to delay his plan, but for it to work, every measure of caution was necessary. When he was ready, he stepped up to the entrance.

         He nodded to each guard. “Officers.”

         In response, one of them grabbed the handle of the door and pulled it open. He gave another nod, and he was in. The casino was large; he had expected that, but even so, he was still surprised at the size of the crowd. 

He looked around, instantly finding exactly what he had been searching for. The bar, to his left, behind a group of blackjack tables. The only dilemma: the tables swarmed with men and women. He grew frustrated but remained calm.

He started toward the bar. Slowly, he drew nearer and nearer. Eventually, he found himself at the end of the bar. Warily, he snatched a peek at a guard. Still no suspicion. Now was the time. Moving as quickly as he could, he sought out the familiar face that was branded into his memory. 

There. He sat on a stool, shoulders back, chin high with a haughty air. He wore a tuxedo, and a glass of rum-and-Coke sat before him. He casually walked toward him. Then he saw the brute’s personal guards near him. Swallowing, he forced himself to continue. Then he was there, standing in front of his enemy. Calmly, he ordered a drink, and the man spoke. “Sir, what is your business with me?”

He would soon get his revenge, but first he would explain his motivation. He kept in mind that it seemed the man could not remember him. This fact only served to make his hatred burn deeper as he thought of how cold-hearted one must be in order to be ignorant of how he had obliterated another’s entire life. 

He smiled, looking his unsuspecting opponent in the eyes. “Sir, you are indeed a bright man. As a matter of fact, I do come on business. You see, sir, I come as a... representative for a man who did business with you some years ago.”

The snake grinned hideously. “I do business with hundreds each year. What makes you think I’ll remember one insignificant man?” 

“If your memory fails you, then allow me to enlighten you by supplying the details of this encounter. May I?”

When the bartender served another drink, the so-called representative took a sip of it, locking eyes with his companion. The con artist replied, “You have ten minutes of my time. Make the most of it.”

He nodded and began:

“Once you approached a certain man with an opportunity to make hundreds upon thousands should he invest in your foolproof real estate venture. He was given a day to think upon it. The man did not think of his family, for he was young and foolish at the time and became excited at the prospect of becoming rich. So immediately he bet all his possessions on a lie.”

The man’s eyebrows shot up. “You claim I misled an innocent entrepreneur?” He mused over this before swallowing his entire drink. “Carry on.”

Before continuing, the representative leaned over and summoned the bartender. “A refill for my companion. And I’ll have another for myself.”

 When he noticed the weasel eyeing him curiously as he spoke to the bartender, he quickly added, “We’re good friends. But as I was saying, the investment was a fraud, and when he sought to take his money back, he could not find you. He turned to the police, but they were no help. Meanwhile, his wife was enraged at his secret transaction and left, taking with her his two children.”

Here, he stopped to clear his throat painfully. Fortunately, the bartender served the drinks, setting a glass before him, saying, “I mixed the extra liquor in, just as you like it.”

“Extra liquor,” the swindler drawled, annoyed by the second strange exchange with the bartender. He picked up his drink and quickly downed it. “No more interruptions; time is almost up.”

He nodded, lowering his voice. “You see, sir, this man seeks revenge. He earned his money back through firearms trade, struck a deal with his associates, and requested their assistance in ruining you. As we speak, your vault in the hidden room of the casino is being looted of its riches. They will soon leave, dividing the cash among them. And do you know, dear friend, that this man is amongst us in this room? Do you know where he is?”

His enemy looked about, breaths short and chest convulsing with horror. He grabbed his arm, hissing, “Tell me where he is, you Devil, or I will order my guards to shoot.”

He leaned close and said slowly, “I am he.”

The coward fell to the floor. He left him there, then added, “Your drink was poisoned with arsenic. Not enough to cause your death. It will wear off in about twelve hours, but you will suffer greatly during that time. Consider it mercy that I have given you your life. For you to suffer pain, you must live. Good day.”

His associates met him at the entrance, large carrying cases in hand. He stepped outside the casino.

“Excuse us, but we will have to search those,” a guard said, reaching for a case.

“That won’t be necessary,” he replied, lunging for one guard as a coworker grabbed the other. Soon the officers were unconscious. They continued, weaving through the crowd. Finally, he caught sight of the exit. The getaway car was parked outside, waiting for them at their selected rendezvous point. 

He lagged behind his comrades, his steps echoing in his mind. Each footfall dredged up a painful memory. His wife and her singsong laugh, swinging his four-year-old son around in the sparkling water at the beach; his seven-year-old daughter with her curly hair bouncing on her forehead, running along the shore’s edge, and kicking up sand. It was his last happy memory before they left. 

He wondered, as he reached the exit, how the sun could shine on such a gloomy day. Though he had emerged victorious, this was bittersweet. This day on the calendar marked four years since he had made the mistake of investing all he owned, only to lose what he valued most. He watched as the doorman opened the door, letting in a fresh breeze. A new wind, representing him, a new man. 

He came to a decision then. No longer would he mourn his loss. He was satisfied with his handiwork, wasn’t he? Was that not enough for him, seeing his pathetic enemy lying on the floor? As the sun had circled the sky, the hotel’s shadow had moved as well. Looking into the blazing sunlight, he took his first step, full of purpose. He smirked. Mission accomplished.