Judge

Back to Business

*Bring bring*

The shrill ring of Cain Smyth's phone jerked him awake as it worked into his sleep. Groaning, he sat up in his bed and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, wondering who could be calling.
Cain didn't have many friends, or at least he didn't have many friends who he'd expect to call. He got out of his bed and ran a hand through his dark brown hair as he crossed the room, almost tripping on a pile of dirty clothes before reaching his backpack. He rummaged through it until he found his phone.

"Hello?" He groggily murmured into the microphone.
"Cain? You sound like hell, dude."
Cain frowned. "Who's this?"
"Don't you check the caller ID anymore?" The voice sounded slightly surprised, almost concerned. "It's me, Felix."
"Oh, right. Hi Felix." Cain replied, wincing at the lack of conviction in his voice.
There was a brief pause. "You do remember me, yeah?"
Cain rubbed the bridge of his nose and frantically tried to get his memory to wake up. "Yeah, yeah of course I do. Felix... Pine. We worked together... In Nigeria. You set me up after."
"Damn man, are you okay? You really do sound like shit."
"I'm fine, I'm fine, it's just too early for me."
"It's eleven in the morning."
"I like to sleep in. What do you need, man? Long time, no see."
"Your employers have some work for you, they say they need your experience. Why don't you meet me down at that little cafe on Harvey Street? You know the French one? 'LaCrux' or something. It's got amazing coffee, we can talk about the work over lunch. I haven't seen you in forever, anyway."
"Uh, yeah, yeah okay. I'll get dressed. What time?"
"Is one-thirty okay with you?"
"Hmm...' Cain frowned. 'Let me just check my schedule." He made his way into the tiny kitchen and checked the relevant post-it notes on the fridge for the day.
'Get milk'
'Friday, pizza night'
'*How I Met Your Mother* marathon this Friday, 1900'
Nothing too urgent, he decided.
"One-thirty is great for me, Felix, I'll see you then."

He had a warm shower, threw on some clean clothes and went to shave before he realised he didn't have any fresh razors. He tried to recall the last time he'd shaved while he stared into the mirror. His dull, blue eyes glared back at him, scrutinising him.
Why get up?
Why agree to go out?
Why not stay home and sleep?
What was the point?
He was fine as he was; going out would just lead to trouble.
But as much as he told himself that, Cain knew he wasn't doing really well for a man of thirty-three. He was from New Zealand originally, and got a job with a Private Security Company when he was just twenty. It had payed very well, but he'd also payed dearly for it. After being involved in a massive conflict in Nigeria, Cain had come to live in Australia. His long-time friend Felix Pine, a handsome Englishman who'd worked with Cain, had helped set him up with an apartment with a weekly allowance to cover his bills and food, all payed for by a mysterious 'employer' under the condition that Cain would do some work for them when they called.
It looked like that day had come.
Cain tore his eyes away from his reflection and went to go find his shoes.

Trudging down the street, Cain made his way to 'LeCruz' (not LaCrux), a small and pretentiously overpriced cafe squashed in between a pizzeria and a failing travel agency. He saw Felix sitting at a table outside with his long, blonde hair done up in a bun. He wore a blue button-up shirt that he'd professionally tucked into his trousers. His dazzling green eyes scanned the smartphone in front of him as he quickly digested a page of text.
Probably fanfic, Cain guessed.

He looked a lot different to the Felix that Cain remembered.

"Felix, how've you been?" Cain greeted him, dropping into the chair opposite. Felix pocketed his phone and looked up, flashing Cain a welcoming smile which quickly fell when he actually saw him.
"Jesus, dude, I've been well, very well, but what about you? You look like hell."
Cain snorted. "Thanks. This is the most effort I've put into my appearance in a while."
"Have you left the apartment at all lately?" Felix asked, not even bothering to hide the concern showing on his face.
"Well, yeah, to get food and go get and stuff."
"What about to meet people?"
Cain shook his head. "No. Not really, no."
"Dude, are you okay?" Felix lowered his voice and leaned in. "Like, are you really okay? I know Nigeria was rough-"

"-I don't want to talk about it." Cain cut in, folding his arms. He knew Felix meant well, but Cain could already feel the slow panic rising in his chest. It was best to ignore that.
"That's okay, that's okay, I'm just saying we all had a hard time coming back from that. I know a good therapist who helped me and Mason after. I can set up a meeting if you want. You're not alone. But you're right, you didn't come here for that crap, you came because of the employer."
Cain nodded. "Can you tell me who they are yet, Felix? It's been really uncomfortable living in an apartment when I don't know who the owners are. They could be Nazis or something."
Felix smiled and raised a hand, signalling the waiter. "I can promise you they're not Nazis. Have you been keeping up with the news at all lately?"
"No, why? Did the Nazis come back?"

The waiter arrived and jotted down their orders, which Cain thought was unnecessary compared to ordering from the counter, and probably just a gimmick the cafe used to justify their prices.
"No, the Nazis haven't come back," Felix assured him as the waiter vanished into the cafe, "but gang-crime in Sydney has skyrocketed over the last eight months."
Cain raised an eyebrow. "You're saying I've been hosted by a gang? An actual gang? A street gang has been paying for my groceries?"
"They're not exactly a gang, okay, that was a poor choice of words on my part. Think of them like a syndicate. Their business is organised crime, but they only deal in the highest tier of organised crime."
"What're they called?"
"Vertex. You would've heard of them if you watch the news."
Cain snorted. "Shitty name for a gang. I would've chosen a cool name. Like 'The Black Hand'. You remember The Black Hand?"
"No, I don't, and don't think of them as a gang, okay? Let's move away from that, I screwed up with my wording."

Felix sighed, looking for the best way to say what he wanted to say. "So you haven't seen the news at all in the last six months? Nothing?"
"Well, I know Tom Clancy died."
"Jesus, Cain, that was like, 2013."
"Oh shit, really? Then why are all his video games still coming out?"
"You haven't heard about the bank heist? The drowned businessmen in Darling Harbour? What about the taxi bomb? That was only two blocks away from your apartment, I'm sure you would've heard that physically at least."
The waiter brought their coffees, Felix's sandwich and Cain's chocolate cake, before moving to take the order of/flirt with a blonde woman who just sat at a nearby table.

"No. I remember a ton of fire trucks going past last week, but firemen intimidate me so I didn't go outside."
"Oh dude, you have got some serious catching up to do."

Felix filled him in on the recent street-politics of Sydney;
About eight months ago, an organised crime group known as Vertex made their residence in Sydney known to the reigning gangs by launching a massive attack on them. Assassinations, thefts, bombings, shootings, all aimed at local gang members. Naturally, Sydney's Underworld was none too happy about this, and banded together to create an organised crime group of their own, dubbed by local newspapers as 'The Reform'. The Reform and Vertex had been at war with each other, with their attacks growing more and more violent as the Police tried to intervene.

"So why do they need me?" Cain asked, spooning in a mouthful of cake.
Felix finished his coffee before answering "All these gangsters and assassins they're hiring are not professional. It's very hard to get professional mercenaries these days with the Cold War and all. They've all got better things to be doing than taking odd jobs in Australia. The thing is though," Felix went to start on his sandwich, "you've got experience most people would kill for."
"I did kill for it."
"You're a professional, Cain. You know how wars work. You've been in one, and they need that."
Cain raised a suspicious eyebrow. "Is this a war? Sounds a lot more like a couple small skirmishes. I'm sure the police are going to nail these guys soon."
"Oh they're not, believe me." Felix lowered his voice and leaned in. "The guys behind Vertex are very powerful, very influential and very rich. What's more, they'll be covering your pay check, and I've known them to very generous as well."

Cain dropped his gaze down to the remainder of his cake. "Im not sure money is what I really want, Felix."
"Hey, I get that, I do. You've done a lot of bad things for money, and the idea of it just doesn't hold appeal to you anymore. I've been there too. But taking this job will not just get you money, and it won't just help you pay off the debt you owe for living off them for the past eight months."
Cain raised his eyes back up to Felix's.

"It'll give you purpose."