Animals

Day 12

Monday, May 21st

I walked into the butcher's shop, squaring my shoulders in a show of false confidence. The same three men from before were there, and they seemed to recognize me because they all stopped what they were doing to watch me.

This was the plan Stan and I had come up with before Mitch threw a fit, and it was finally time to execute. I went over what I was going to say a thousand times in my mind. Mitch helped a bit, but he sounded too much like a spy to be of much help, so I was on my own. That was fine. I'd been on my own for most of my jobs. I knew what to do. Unfortunately, Mitch and I weren't quite at that level of trust. He insisted on being in my ear the entire time.

"Gary sent me. So, Hennich, how 'bout that drink?" I asked, looking him straight in the eye. At least, I hoped it was Hennich, otherwise this would have a very awkward ending. The man in the glasses with tattoos and dark hair quirked his lips up in what I assumed was supposed to be a smile as he ripped off his long, bloodied gloves with a snap. He lifted the counter top to let me in, and I hoped he couldn't hear my heart racing in my chest as I passed him.

"Just stay calm," Mitch said. It took all of my strength not to say 'I know that, dipshit!'

I opened my mouth to speak to Hennich, but the heavy silence in the air forbade me not to. It was as if there was an unspoken rule against speaking until we passed through the doors to the back. To my right was a large, heavy door. It was cracked open, the pathway blocked with a heavy plastic strip curtain that led into a chilly meat locker. The whole place was cold, and it contributed to the shiver running down my spine.

Hennich guided me in the front, and one of the men followed from behind me. I felt like I was nearing a place I shouldn't go, but it was too late to turn back now. Hennich turned towards me after we'd walked the length of the room and held open the door. Inside was dark and I couldn't see what I would be stepping into, but I didn't really have a choice.

With a stoic expression, I stepped into the room. Hesitantly, my feet walked a few paces, testing the floor underneath me for faults. The light burst on with a loud hiss and then maintained a steady hum. A large circular table sat in the center of the room with chairs at random points along it. The room wasn't anything special, nothing like I was expecting. There was no mess of poker cards and chips on the table, no torture devices hung on the wall. It was just a room.

The henchmen with some kind of animal blood on his apron—I hoped it was animal blood—closed the door behind him as I sat at the table. Hennich took the seat across the table from me, quickly accompanied by the other.

"So," Hennich said, leaning back against his chair casually as he crossed his ankle over his knee. "You said Gary sent you. What do you want?"

"I want to know everything. All the underground stuff. I want in."

Their eyes connected, but they were good at hiding what was going on in their minds. I was better. They were debating on whether or not I was legit. I wasn't worried. Before this adventure, I had gotten into contact with Greg to discuss my place in the Midnight Anarchists. For a moment, I almost blew my cover by calling him Greg instead of Gary, but I caught myself. From what I could tell, I was in on that side. Now I just had to convince Hennich.

"Sex it up," Mitch said in my earpiece, and I rolled my eyes. I was not going to parade my breasts to these men just because Mitch told me to.

I leaned forward onto one elbow, drawing their attentions back to me. The less time I gave them to converse amongst themselves, the better. "Listen, I know what was in the box I delivered." I sat back casually, a stance that showed confidence and ease. "It would've been nice to know before I delivered it, but I know now. That's what matters."