His Bet

Chapter Sixty

Brix

Grandma was able to see Max and Cross and say their greetings. They were regulars at this house or even in New York during our days, but not until we decided to part ways with them. That was the best choice for the eight of us. It was hard to cut our brotherhood-though it's just temporary -because we all grew up with each other. Those times that both our parents were out we used to play. That's what we are all good at. To play.

Until we didn't notice that we are already playing with demons.

Big demons of New York.

That was the bad old days we had. We were so caught up having fun with our bachelors life that we didn't notice that we're getting involve with hideous men. That we are already doing dirty jobs.

At first it was all fun. We get loads of money, we get girls we wanted, we get to travel to the whole country and do whatever we want.

But not all fun is fun. It was all bait for the eight of us. We didn't know we are already dragging ourselves to the pit of hell New York's hideous men made. The fun was temporary, at first we just do little teenage boys vengeance. Pissing business men off with scratching their luxury cars with keys, putting dead rat in a box to deliver to someone for a threat, posting death threat posters to their offices, leading a businessman to their enemies and so on. What we didn't know was, we've been elevating from those teenage boys crap to hideous men jobs. Those simple scratching keys to a businessmen luxury cars became tracing signals for Mafia men, hunting those who didn't pay their obligations, trap them to get killed by the boss' hired assasins, negotiate with the enemies of the Mob, frame up enemies to get killed, set them up with each other to let them do their wars, name it. We don't kill with our hands but it's us who lead those people to who really kills. Bad participatory, ain't we?

Those were the bad old days..

We tried to get out of that sick life but know we won't be able to make it. We were miles and miles not enough to beat them and take our lives back. They say "Once you're in, there's no going back." And they were good at implementing that stupid slogan they made. We have to survive in their wicked world, we have to pretend that we still fit in though one by one we are slipping in. That was the hardest part, to get away.

But for at least, the heaven was good to us. In their world, our names wasn't that important. To put this in business sense, they are the parent company while we are the lowest subordinates. We work on the ground, on the field. They just gave us screen names to avoid suspicions. I was called the Big Bad Wolf. That's what they use to call me. I was in charge in hunting and torturing men. Max was called Trail. By the word itself he's in charge of trailing men with maximum secrecy. Red and Simon were what they called Codes, they usually do the technicals during our ops, back ups if in case we got caught. Chris and Cross were the Soldiers, in charge of framing each other up. Kalvin and Tris were called Sergeants, they do the outline, plan and blueprints of the ops.

To sum up what we do, Tris and Kalvin will get the order, they'll plan what to do pass it to Max so he can trail who the subject is and when he already figure out who to get responsible, I will hunt the subject down and try to negotiate with him; if the subject didn't give in, the plan Tris and Kalvin made will finally be set up then Red and Simon will have their access whom to be careful with and to avoid the cops receiving any reports from the subject, blocking calls, cutting any communication for the subject to get saved and everything. If ever I was ordered to hunt two or more subjects relative to each other, that's when Chris and Cross will do their job by framing each other up; making threats that in their depiction it came from their enemy-who is also a subject-and let them kill themselves, or if only one subject should be done the cycle will turn its arrow on me and I will end the job. I'll negotiate with them and try to earn what the boss wants, if they don't give it then I'll try the other way-torture until I get what I needed but if they don't. I'll pass the subject to the assasins. That what happens on the field. They don't care how we do it, as long as we did the report we are all fine. That's what we do, and those things; we want to end it.