The Great Below

The Robbery - Part 1

Alex and Nick climbed out of their borrowed Sprinter, wondering at the sea of cars that choked a strip mall parking lot at 8 PM on a Tuesday. Lights blared from the wall of windows at the front of the boxing and MMA club they'd come to visit on orders from Dominic, and everywhere little trios of spectators talked together or smoked cigarettes, backs turned against the cold. At least, it seemed everyone was there for the fight. It was either that or the abandoned former grocery store, the Chinese food restaurant or a place that prepared taxes.

The closer they got to the gym doors, the more they heard dance music booming from the other side. Everything about their assignment sat just outside of Alex's comfort zone: the noise, the crowd, the idea of recruiting one more man to compete with for Dominic's approval. They walked inside, blind and nearly deaf, and Alex let Nick buy them both tickets for thirty-five dollars apiece. The sign plastered over the front doors, so cheaply photocopied that the words had begun to slant and run off the page, announced an amateur match between 'Vicious Vic' and a newcomer, Jose Pedrera, who didn't yet have a nickname.

When Nick handed the ticket over, he said, "I'm not sure why we're supposed to watch the whole fight. Couldn't we have picked him up when it's over, like he's our little black-belt kid with two dads?"

Alex shook his head, waiting for his discomfort at joining the crowd to pass. "That would be tough, considering he's older than we are." He knew why they had to watch the fight, but he wasn't about to repeat it to his partner. Dominic had been adamant: Victor Gallo was headstrong and ambitious. He fought for what he had; he wasn't afraid of a hard day's work. The worst had been saved for last, and it was a verbal jab that had come flying through the open door as he'd left Dominic's office. You could learn a thing or two from him.

They followed the flow of people to the back of the gym. The music faded and an announcer began calling names and weights while a referee took to the center of the ring. The audience found their seats in metal folding chairs surrounding the stage. While 'Vicious Vic' got his round of adoring applause, the referee examined his gloves and headgear, then crossed the ring to do the same for Padrera. Both men touched gloves, a bell rang, and Victor began beating the ever-loving Christ out of his opponent. He stalked Padrera in a circle, exposing his face for punishment. When the other fighter moved in on the bait, he attacked with a powerful right hook and the crowd howled.

"What do you think?" Alex asked Nick. He had to shout to be heard.

"Well, I wouldn't ever piss him off."

Alex's cell phone vibrated in his jacket. He excused himself, sprinting past rows of punching bags and out the entrance. "Hello?"

"How's he doing?" Dominic asked.

"It just started, Sir." The traffic at the main road had died down and the parking lot was now void of pedestrians. Alex relished the quiet and the dark. He pulled a fresh pack of cigarettes from his jacket, followed by the lighter.

"Good. I need to add something to your assignment."

Alex lit the cigarette, taking a long drag. "Sir?"

"Victor has something of value, usually kept in his apartment. I want you to bring it back with you. Go get it before the fight ends."

So they were recruiting him and robbing him. And Nick had made such a solid point: I wouldn't ever piss him off. "What is it?"

"It's hard to say. You'll know it when you see it."

"Sir...this is going to be tricky without details." He swallowed nervously in the resulting pause.

"You're a smart enough kid. Let's just say it's hard to miss."

And though he didn't want to nitpick the semantics of being smart enough, Alex knew he'd be mulling the phrase over for much of the night, and perhaps even the next day or so. "Yes, Sir."

"Don't come back without it," Dominic added, before hanging up.

Behind Alex, the noise doubled and then vanished – someone else had slipped out the gym doors. "That Dominic?" Nick asked.

"Yeah. There's something in Victor's apartment and he wants it."

"Hm. I'm going to need about five more notes to name that tune."

"That's all we get. His place isn't far from here, but we need to grab it and get back or Victor will be suspicious."

"That guy?" Nick asked, hooking his thumb back over his shoulder. "I bet he's got the heart of a marshmallow."

"Well he's keeping it in the body of a serial killer, so I'd like to hurry."