Five Minutes

All the pots of coffee in the world couldn’t take away David’s poor mood. One weekend stuck in his office with only the endless white stacks of paper to keep him company was 48 hours too many. His fingers itched to do something more entertaining, murder white page after white page.

The mafia boss took a deep drag of the cigarette in his mouth. Dark orbs glanced down at the wristwatch. They grew only darker as the clock hands reflected what he thought – the guest for that evening was already more than ten minutes late. Had they already decided that tonight would be a good night to die on without informing the mafia boss?

David tapped the cigarette and watched as the quickly forming ash fell to his feet. The gray material fell to the ground without resistance as the tiny red flickers died instantly. Hmm. There was nothing satisfactory in that. The flame didn't even try to fight against what it already knew it's fate would be. 

“Don. I already know what you’ll say, but I think you should hear me out this time.” David didn’t bother looking up from the ash. He knew the other was approaching before he was visible in the darkness.

“I hope you’re not going to give me more excuses, Sinclair. I’ve already heard more than enough to last me a lifetime and again.” David stepped further into the darkness, not caring as the other chose to follow. Allys were hardly the place to meet, but his watcher seemed to prefer them.

“No, Don. Tonight, I don’t bring you excuses but what I hope will turn out to be valuable information.” David raised one finger as the other spoke, a silent reminder to pace himself as excitement seeped into the watcher’s voice. Hardly anyone would likely be around, minus a few lonely drunks, considering the part of town they were meeting in. One, however, could never be too careful, especially when new pieces had recently been added to the mix.

“If you don’t wish for me to silence you myself, Sinclair, I suggest trying again with far less enthusiasm.” David dropped the cigarette and snuffed it out beneath his expensive loafer before lighting another. The mafia boss could feel the other’s eyes longing to eye the item but still slipped the box into his pocket without making an offer. There was no reason for the mafia boss to share what was his when Sinclair could afford his own.

“I had heard that you were dissatisfied with the last report offered. In light of this, I decided to go back and do more digging. I didn’t bother with the former as he’s no longer of any consequence to us. However, I managed to dig up some dirt on our new friend I thought you might find interesting.” Sinclair found an expectant hand being thrust under his nose.

“I take it that you’ve already written up whatever you found out about?” The watcher blinked a few times as uncertain eyes remained on the rough, large palm outstretched below his nose.

“No, Don. I brought the information to discuss with you before I put the report together. I didn’t think you would wish to wait to hear this information as we planned to meet tonight.” Sinclair’s voice wavered. Unable to see David’s expression as he felt the other’s eyes pierce him in the darkness, he second-guessed his decision.

“Each second you’re not speaking, you’re taking another year off your life.” The cold tone, underlined with dark promise, was enough to snap Sinclair back into speaking.

“I apologize, Don. Your silence made me uncertain if I should consider it or not. I –“ A rough thud echoed throughout the darkness in the alley. The vibration against the stone wall caused a rat to scurry away from its trash pile, and deafening silence overtook the space.

 “My silence? My silence is a precious commodity. One I am giving away tonight for what I thought would be something valuable. So far, however, I’ve heard nothing but wasted words.” Sinclair could hardly swallow against the hand tightly gripping his chin as he was pinned prone against the wall. The watcher forced his hands flat against the cold cement. It took his self-control not to fight back against the tall, threatening mafia boss. Sinclair had seen the man kill for less, and tonight wasn’t the night that the watcher wanted to die.

The mafia boss left little space between. Sinclair could feel the heat coming off the cigarette and rough, harsh hot breath as it beat against his face and tickled his ear as the taller man spoke.

“Now. I will give you five minutes and another chance to tell me something useful. If I’m not, my silence will be the least for you to worry about. Is that clear?” Sinclair only dared to blink his eyes in the form of understanding. He hardly dared to breathe, least the sound upset the other man.

“Five minutes.” David didn’t let the other man go without roughly shoving him back against the wall. Sinclair cleared his throat but refrained from reaching a hand up to rub his chin. Damn. It was easy to forget how rough the Don could be when played nice. Fuck this. Next time Manuel could be the one to deal with him. At least David would think twice before trying to kill the right-hand man.

“He’s clean now, but the new police chief coming has a checkered past. I can’t confirm it, but he might have dipped into this side of the world for a while.” Sinclair hardly had a chance to breathe before he felt ice-cold eyes dull into him. Is that all? The gaze demanded without the need for words.

“I am waiting for a follow-up, but I can confirm that this is more than word of mouth. One of my contacts will send the records through in a day or two. I’m digging further to see how deep it goes, but there seem to be family ties. If they aren’t cut –

“We could use them to get him to work with us. How is it that you didn’t find this information out beforehand?” The mafioso boss shifted away enough for Sinclair to breathe freely without fear of immediate damage.

“Once it was found out the prior police chief wasn’t exactly ‘clean,’ they shifted normal procedure to keep this tightly under wraps. They didn’t leave him out of their sight long enough to take a piss, let alone inform us.” Sinclair’s tongue darted out to swipe up the drop of blood at the corner of his lip.

“We’d been working overtime to discover if rumors were true, but no one was discussing it. I had to take the back channels to find this out. Even with this method, there was a high risk of being caught.” Sinclair would’ve said more but wisely held his tongue when David raised his hand.

“I thought we agreed that there wouldn’t be any excuses tonight? I don’t need to hear about your pitiful struggles. I need to know what could be improved or what obstacles must be dealt with.” Obstacles would’ve been the preferable option for David. Obstacles meant targets, and targets meant opportunities to scratch the consistent itch of his trigger finger.

“If people are causing you problems, provide the list along with the record. I’m sure you’ll quickly find those obstacles never will have existed in the first place.” Sinclair felt a shiver trail down his spine as his skin prickled.

No matter how many times he heard David talk and how Ruthless the watcher was, he didn’t think he would ever get used to how his Don spoke.

“As you wish, Don. I also came with other news to inform you about. Something I thought you might be even more interesting than this.” David, however, was already walking away before Sinclair finished. The soft crunch of his shoes against gravel indicated how far away he was.

“You already used up your five minutes. I have other places to be tonight. You can fill Miguel in, and he can determine if it’s something vital I should know.”.

Damn, David, for being such a picky, fussy man. Not that Sinclair would ever say that his face. At least not if she wanted his face to remain whole. No, he would keep his words to himself without even so much as a glare directed at the departing man’s back.

Instead, he would ensure that Miguel never heard the end of what happened tonight. Sinclair spat on the ground to rid his mouth of the metallic taste. Never again would the right-hand man leave him to do the job that was supposed to be his in the first place.