High Steaks: A Bjorn Trilogeé Adventure

Chapter 2: Abe

Abe sat quietly in the leather patio chair, listening intently to the self absorbed bullshit spewing from the banker's mouth. The man on the other side of the solid gold bistro table was Robbie Barun, the most powerful man in the world of money. His net worth was thought to be somewhere in the trillions and even that may be on the conservative side.

Upon arriving at Mr. Baruns' estate here in Liechtenstein, Abe was immediately taken aback by the size of this property. Not only was it bigger than three futbol stadiums but it was full of every possible luxury that one can imagine; marble floors, gold trimmed doorways, the Telescoping Darth Vader Lightsaber, ancient artifacts, rare paintings and even the bones of Rocky Dennis. Abe tapped his leg impatiently under the table. Damn this guy liked to talk.

"So as I was saying, I started to run out of room for my little hobbies so I purchased the adjacent property across the street, which was the only affordable housing unit in the entire country. As you know we are one of the richest nations in the world, so really why have affordable anything? Anyway, I tore the place down and turned it into my 30,000 square foot wine room. Well what happened to the families that lived there you ask? Well let's just say, that is not leather on your chair. Ha-ha! Life is good..."

Abe stood up and wiped his pants with a linen napkin. Looking into the clear blue water of the enormous pool, Abe could only reflect on the mentality of this guy. Over the past several years he had met many clients just like this piece of trash. So powerful, so wealthy, so evil. People tended to bend over backwards for guys like this. Abe is by no means a slouch, he enjoys extravagant things too, but he would never become as jaded as this bastard. From what he knows about Mr. Barun, he had been instrumental in funding some kind of covert project in the United States and he also won the 1979 Disco Dance-a-thon at the Gelty Shekel Discotecha.

Abe turned back towards the banker, "Listen, why don't we get down to business."

"Whoa, whoa my friend. You seem like a nice guy but I am not into that..."

"What? No, no, nothing like that. I'm not gay. I'm just British," Abe said with a shake of his hands. People always got this impression from Abe. He could only imagine that it was because of his impeccable taste and his uppity English accent.

"Oh, you must be talking about the message. Ah yes ... give it here," Mr. Barun smiled and reached out a hand. In doing so, the sleeve of his white Armani Suit lifted up higher on his forearm, exposing his scrawny little wrist.

Abe reached into his inner coat pocket and removed the View Master. Then with incredible quickness he chopped down hard with his opposite hand. The side of his palm cut cleanly through the exposed arm of Mr. Barun. It all happened so fast that the banker still stood there smiling as his now severed hand lay on the patio right next to a pair of swimming goggles. Blood squirted everywhere.

"Sorry but this is a private viewing," Abe put the device back into his pocket.

After watching Robbie Barun bleed out, which took a good thirty-five minutes; Abe exited the home, hopped into his McLaren P1 and sped off. He drove up past the looming presence of Vaduz Castle and past the impressive Prince Winery. He even took a moment to stop and scoff at the Postage Stamp Museum. It was a fine day for a drive. The sun was shining and the temperature was a comfortable 22 degrees Celsius.

Abe continued north until he found a wide open meadow near a large river. He pulled off the road and got out to stretch his legs. He removed a few items from the trunk and walked into the field. But, something just did not smell right. Literally.

If on the third day God created man, then probably somewhere around the seventh day he must have created cow shit. Abe contemplated this as the pungent sent of manure wrestled his nostrils. "At least the scenery is nice," Abe said under his breath as he gently smoothed out the checkered blanket onto the lush green grass.