2– Old debts

The all-black SUV pulled up softly in front of 32 Small Street, Windsor, Sunnington. A quiet and posh neighbourhood. The houses here were all double stories and had gardens that looked so perfect it looked fake. Posh cars were parked on their driveways, all of them except for Marcus Grayman's driveway. There was no car.

The men had switched off all car lights so it would be harder to spot them. Although it was dark, eleven at night, there were streetlights in the street which pretty much luminated over everything. So, there was not much cover.

It had taken them four long hours to get to Sunnington from Bellerose. But Hunter was used to this. One time, Hector flew him and a few of the other men over to Japan to settle the rivalry between their consumers, two Japanese drug lords. Hector had only gotten involved because the Boryo-feisu rivalry between the Boryokuda drug lord and the Sukafeisu drug lord had caused a big drop in supply and demand, and it was affecting King's income. 'Nothing gets in the way of Hector King's money', as he would often say. King had one rule when it came to managing his organization, 'If anything gets in the way of income, eliminate the cause'. His mob was called The Black Souls.

Terry, the mob's driver was the one behind the wheel, none of the other mobsters had ever heard him speak. Hunter had heard from someone that Terry had drove for the mob for more than fifteen years. The only person who has heard him speak, is Hector. When Hunter first joined the mob, he always watched Terry drive in silence and always wondered why nobody said anything to him and why he never said anything to anybody. But now, Hunter was used to seeing him like that.

Hunter sat in the passenger seat, and then Joe was in the back.

When the car came to a stop Hunter turned back to Joe.

“You ready?” He asked him.

“You're the one pulling the trigger, are you ready?”

Hunter smirked, turned back, and pulled down his balaclava. “I was born ready.”

“Then let's do this.” Joe said.

Hunter pulled out his gun and exited the car. Joe, him too wearing a ski mask went around the car and began following behind Hunter.

They walked across the lawn quickly and came face to face with the front door of the double story. The number on the door was '32'. Hunter rang the doorbell with his left hand while the other held on to the handgun firmly against his jeans.

It took a while before the lights went on downstairs and they began hearing a bit of shuffling.

“Who is there?” They heard a sleepy voice say and then there was rattling of keys.

Hunter heard the door unlock, and as Marcus was about to ask again, Hunter pushed the door open. Marcus' attempt to push back was overpowered by Hunter and Joe as he was already caught off-guard. Hunter and both Joe pointed their gun at him.

“What the hell...” Was all Marcus could say as he began walking back slowly.

“Don't move a muscle.” Hunter whispered to him. The gun was pointing at Marcus and his finger was hovering above the trigger. Marcus stopped moving backwards and raised his hands in surrender.

Hunter reached into the right inside pocket of his leather jacket with his left hand without taking his eyes off the target. He pulled out a little ID photo and compared it to the man standing before him. The picture was from 12 years ago. This man looked chubbier as compared to the man in the picture, with the bald head and shaved off face, he didn't look like he was the same bearded man standing next to Hector in the picture. But the man that had spotted him was certain that it was Marcus. He had brought Hector blurred pictures and both knowing him agreed that it was him.

“Marcus Grayman...” Hunter smiled. “First I'd like to say, good job on the disguise.”

“Wha… what do you want?” Marcus stuttered.

“You remember your good boss, Hector King?” Hunter said, putting the picture back in his jacket.

Marcus Grayman's eyes widened.

“He has a message just for you.”

Hunter pulled out his phone and dialled the mafia boss' number. And placed it on speakerphone. It rang for a split second and then Hector answered. Hector had been waiting at the phone for almost an hour and a half.

“You with him?” Was Hector's first words.

“Yes sir.”

“How does he look?”

“Fat. Scared...” Hunter grimaced as he spoke.

“I bet he smells like a rat too.”

“Stinking up the place.” Hunter smiled.

“Grayman, remember when you sold me out, you? I bet you forgot who I am when you opened up your mouth that day.”

Marcus just stood there with his hands up quivering.

“And running away didn't get you far, did it? Only gave you 12 more years to live, but what's the point if it all goes to waste now? Reduced to nothing.”

“I'm so sorry. I swear.” Grayman attempted to find some remorse.

Hector scoffed. “They always apologize, don't they?”

“Please forgive me. I'm begging you.”

“You're a nobody Grayman, and when Hunter shoots you, your little blonde girlfriend will get a new sugar daddy.” Hector sounded merciless. “You made a grave mistake by selling me out to the feds, Grayman. 10 Years working together and you sell me out. Every single day I wonder why you did it. So, I'm going to give you a chance to tell me now before you are 6 feet under.”

“I'm sorry, Hector.” Marcus apologised. “I know I made a huge mistake, and I gravely regret it.”

“You sold me away for the petty reward of ten grand offered by the feds to find the agent killer. How could you? We've earned more than that together.”

“It wasn't about the money, I swear.” Marcus was begging. “Please don't kill me. Please. I only did it because I didn't think that agent deserved that.”

“Deserved? You were my underboss!” King snapped. “I promoted you because I trusted you. And then you stab me in the back for some cop?”

“Please, Hector...”

“Talk about 'deserved', do you know how many bodies you've dropped as a member of the Black Souls? Talk about deserved.”

“That agent was my brother.” Marcus said desperately.

Hunter frowned.

“Lies!” Hector ranted. “You have always been a liar. You wanted the money because after you left the mob you blew up all your money on strippers and gambling.

“You were left with nothing and so you traded me for that 10 grand.”

“I swear to God, Hector.”

“Daddy?” It was a little boy standing at the bottom of the stairs. He couldn't have been more than 8 years old.

“Sammy stay right there!” Marcus shouted at the boy. “Don't come any closer. Please.”

The boy was in a Spiderman onesie with the hoodie over his head. There were strands of blonde hair sticking out at the sides of his forehead. He had big eyes and bright red lips. In his left hand was a soft dinosaur toy and with the other hand he was holding the railing.

The Intel that had found Marcus had spotted him with a young blonde woman, both Hunter and Joe knew this, and they assumed that the woman was his girlfriend since his wife left him two months before he sold Hector out. But the little boy, he was a surprise. A horrible surprise.

“Rot in hell you son-of-a-bitch.” Hector said and then added. “Hunter, pop him.”

“Sammy, go back to bed.” Joe tried.

“Go upstairs baby.” Marcus began tearing up.

“Pop him, Hunter.” Hector said impatiently.

Hunter looked from the boy to Marcus and back. But this little innocent boy was standing there at the bottom of the stairs. How could Hunter shoot his father right in front of him?

Hunter looked back at Joe and that's when Marcus pulled out his rifle from the back of his pyjama pants and pointed it to Hunter.

“Sammy, go wake mommy and tell her to phone the police.” Marcus said, not taking his eyes off Hunter. “Throw me your gun, boy.”

“No,” Hunter said firmly but calmly. “You throw me yours. Don't be stupid there's two of us.”

In one nimble movement, Hunter quickly turned and was now aiming at the little boy. This caused tension. Even to Joe.

“Hey man...” Joe whispered behind Hunter and just by the sound of his voice, Hunter knew that Joe was against him aiming at the boy.

“Marcus, if your Sammy takes one step up those stairs, that will be the last step he'll take in his life.” Hunter said. “Stop the bullshit and throw the gun on the floor.”

Marcus was still pointing his gun at Hunter, but Hunter could see now, Marcus' hands were trembling, and there was a trickle of sweat running down his temple. From past experience, Marcus knew very well that the Black Souls were ruthless as trained to be. He knew that if he made a small mistake, he'd lose his son forever. But he also knew that no matter what happened, whether he surrendered his gun or not, he'd end up dead because it was the two of them and one of him. He knew that the smart thing to do would be to surrender his gun, because if the two men didn't get hurt, they wouldn't harm his son or his sleeping girlfriend upstairs. She had always been a deep sleeper, and he had joked one day and told her, “One day people would come into the house and kill me, and you wouldn't even hear a thing.” Of course she had laughed.

“There's two of you, take both of them out if you have to!” Hector's voice came shouting through the cell phone speaker.

There were a few tense seconds of Marcus trying to decide whether to surrender or fight until the end. Hunter was tensed too. He knew that killing the innocent boy would never sit right with his conscience, but it was not like his conscience was spotless, was it? Hunter also knew that if he did not, he could end up taking the bullet from Marcus. With pressure from Hector and a gun pointed at him, Hunter had made his decision. He knew what the best thing to do was.

Pow!

Gunshot.

Hunter, Marcus, Joe, and Sammy all flinched.

“Hunter?” Hector sounded through the speaker.

Marcus gagged and blood started escaping from his mouth. He then fell knees-first on the beige carpet. His white t-shirt became soaked with blood.

Hunter looked back and Joe was lowering his gun.

“Daddy?” Sammy's little voice croaked.

“Hunter!” Hector continued calling.

Marcus then fell forward, face flat.

There was a rustle upstairs. The blonde woman had now woken up and was probably trying to call the cops.

“We need to get out of here, now, Hunter.”

Hunter had to make sure Marcus was really dead, so he took a step forward and looked down at the body. Marcus was still. The gun he had been holding was now lying next to him. A pool of blood began to escape from underneath him. Hunter aimed his gun at Marcus' bald head and took a shot.

Both Joe and Hunter then walk-ran out of the house. Before Hunter walked out the door, he looked over at Sammy and saw him crouched down on one of the steps shaking and whimpering in fear. In that little boy, he saw little Jake Scott. But that didn't stop him.

Terry had already revved the car when he heard the gunshots. The two men quickly got into the car and before they could shut the door, Terry speeded off.

“Hunter tell me what the hell is going on!” It was Hector.

“It's done, sir.” Hunter responded.

“Good.” He said then hung up.

“Fuck!” Joe said and then slammed the seat next to him.

“What?” Hunter asked aggressively turning back to look at Joe in the back seat.

“That kid, man. That was messed up.”

“What about the kid?”

“You pointed a damn gun at the kid?” Joe quickly pulled off his balaclava, he looked upset. “What the hell man?”

“It's done, the kid didn't get hurt.”

“But you pointed the gun at that little kid, that's messed up. If I didn't pull the trigger, would you have really shot him?”

“Don't be stupid, Joe.” Hunter said and then turned to the front.

“Stupid?” Joe asked. “I think you would have. Wouldn't you?”

Hunter caught Terry glimpsing at him and then Terry looked away. He was probably waiting for the answer too.

Hunter cleaned his teeth and looked out towards the window. “Don't ask me stupid questions.”

Joe didn't insist, he knew not to try and push Hunter too far, especially that Hunter was already so tensed. So, he stayed quiet. But that question wouldn't stop repeating itself in Hunter's head, 'Would you have really shot him?'. As cold as that was, Hunter knew very well that Sammy was in fact saved by Joe's bullet.