The Meetup

A couple of days later, my cell phone rings, I don’t recognise the number but take the call anyway.

“Hey, It’s Jae Sang” I hear.

“Hey Jae Sang, how’s it going?” I asked.

“OK”. Then silence.

I’m guessing he called me for a reason but is maybe trying to muster up the courage to say something or having second thoughts, he sure as hell didn’t call to ask me out on a date. So I prod him a little.

“So, what can I do for you?”

“Well, I wanted to talk…” more silence.

“OK. You want to do it over the phone or want me to meet you somewhere?” I asked.

“Not sure.”

C’mon kid, don’t be shy. “Tell you what, why don’t we meet at the pier for lunch? They’ve got great kebabs at a shop I know. Say 1:30?”. No one can resist a good kebab.

“Yeah, OK.” He said.

“Alright, cool. See you there, then.”

“OK”.

I hung up before he could change his mind.

The peer was not as full of people as usual, no doubt the foul grey weather helped. The kebab shop was still open, of course, and they were really good kebabs. I arrived a bit earlier and got myself a lamb surprise, you never knew what was in that mystery meat but there was no way it was lamb. Still it tasted fantastic. I didn’t wait for Jae Sang to arrive before ordering, I didn’t want him to get used to me being his meal ticket, it wasn’t that kind of relationship.

I took my kebab and sat on one of the benches overlooking the ocean. There’s something calming about water, especially endless ocean. I guess it makes you feel so insignificant that it makes you realise you’re not the centre of the universe. Of course, that only lasts a little bit and then life catches up with you and you go back to your own selfish delusions. Mine, at the moment, were around Sung’s murder. Why a professional hit? This kid couldn’t have been too hard to get to, surely you didn’t need a professional to take him out. No, a professional hit was sending a message to someone. Maybe a turf war among organised crime? Not gangbangers, but the big guys, Russian or Italian or Armenian mob. The Genius had said that Jae Sang slung dope for the Russians, there could be some truth to that. But then again, that guy was a less than reliable witness. Although he’d been scared enough of the ass-raping to be telling the truth.

The bench I sat in was in full view of the kebab shop so Jae Sang was sure to see me when he arrived. I toyed with the idea that it might be a setup or a trap, it pays to be paranoid in my line of business, but I quickly discarded that, it was just too Hollywood. Why would Jae Sang want to set me up and with whom?

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