J.T. opened his groggy eyes. The loud sound of the outer door opening and closing woke him. That large empty warehouse was dark—too dark to see his former partner’s condition. He scooted to the left side of the pen and whispered. His voice was dry and cracked when he spoke. “Curt, wake up. Come on, buddy. I have to know if you’re okay.”
Bright lights suddenly illuminated the building, and a fuzzy image headed J.T.’s way from across that wide-open space. The clip-clop of footsteps got closer, but J.T. still couldn’t make out the face.
The deep voice spoke from fifty feet away. “I have a message for you.”
J.T. squinted and rubbed his eyes against his bent knees. Something was wrong. He rubbed his eyes again and squeezed them open and closed. The blurred vision was still there, and the fact that he slept at all made no sense. He tried to focus upward and out beyond the broken windows, but the sun had long passed that side of the building. It had to be late in the day, meaning he had slept for hours.
Those assholes put something in my food.
He craned his neck toward Curt, who was balled up in a fetal position, his back facing J.T.
J.T. whispered again, but this time with urgency. “Curt, wake up, man. Are you okay? Just move your hand if you can hear me.”
A slight movement from Curt’s right index finger was enough to tell J.T. he was still hanging on.
The man reached the enclosure, grasped the links, then gave them a hard shake. That time it wasn’t Anthony, it was Antonio, and he was likely trying to instill fear in them.
J.T. stood and smirked at the man on the other side of the cage. “I see you’ve changed out of your Jolly Green Giant suit. So, what’s the message, goon, and why did you drug me?”
“I didn’t—Anthony did—and the message is from Mr. Vetcher. He’s changed his mind and decided not to be so generous. He wants your log-in and password information by morning.”
“Tell him to go to hell. I’m still waiting to see my sister.”
“He was certain you’d say that too. He told me to do this so you’d realize just how serious he is.”
“Yeah, what’s that, big guy?”
The ear-piercing sound of bullets firing echoed off the walls. In an instant, Antonio pulled out J.T.’s Glock 22 from under his suit jacket and shot off two rounds—one, a direct hit to the back of Curt’s head.
“No, no, no! You son of a bitch! I’ll kill you—I’ll kill all of you! Tell that coward boss of yours to face me, that piece of shit!”
Antonio turned and walked away. J.T. kicked the links of the enclosure and cursed the man who disappeared from sight. He yelled out his intentions for all of them, but his threats went unanswered.