Sin City Baby

“You’ll pay the two hundred and fifty thousand dollars you owe us, or you’ll die,” the man said.

I heard my bodyguards cock their guns as I held up my hand. They whipped their eyes toward me, looking at me as if I’d lost my mind. I was serious when I told my mother I wanted this operation to be le

gitimate again. That meant we would obtain any guns we needed for any reason legally, not shipped in from overseas with the fucking serial numbers scratched off from the metal. That was my father’s business. Not mine.

And I wasn’t going to be strong-armed into his dirty deals.

Which meant I had to keep a cool head.

“Gentleman. I’ve got a check in my back pocket for twenty thousand dollars to pay you for your troubles and to get you by until you find another buyer for the guns. I know you can find them in the city. I’m sure you’ve got plenty of clients,” I said.

“You’ll take the guns, and you’ll be thankful,” the man said.

“I don’t want to buy the guns. My father did, but he’s dead. And I have no use for them. You don’t have a paper contract so I can’t confirm the amount you’re asking for or even the fact that the deal took place.”

“Are you calling me a liar?” the man asked.

He thrust his gun out further forcing my bodyguards back into attack mode.

“Listen to me. I’m trying to find an avenue that benefits all of us, and you’re making it very hard for me to do so. These men at my side are ordered to protect me at any cost. Don’t make them do that. Be reasonable.”

“Reasonable?” the man asked. “There ain’t no reason when it comes to buying guns. You took your father’s place, which means you inherited his deals and his dirty work. Take the fucking guns and give us our money, or you’ll be shark bait for my son’s crabbing venture.”

“Shark bait for crabs. Got it,” I said. “Guys, could you please lower your weapons?”

“Sorry, Mr. Bianchi. No can do,” my bodyguard said.

“Too volatile,” the other man said.

“Look, I have no need for the guns. Would you pay a quarter of a million dollars for something you didn’t need any longer?” I asked.

“Your father had a use for them. I suggest you start there,” the man said.

“And I already told you, I’m no longer seeking out those avenues of business. You can take the check for twenty thousand for the inconvenience I’ve caused you, or you can walk away with nothing. The choice is yours,” I said.

“As far as I can tell, we have three guns to your two. We’ll take both of your guards out before you can do anything. I know you’ve got the money, Bianchi. You can turn around and sell the damn guns for all we care to recoup what you lost. But I’m not fucking leaving without the money I was promised.”

Gun runners were always so unwavering in their demands. I hated doing business with them, and I hated it when my father did. But I knew why he did. They cut him a fantastic deal on the massive number of guns and the quality he always obtained. I got it. But it wasn’t needed for what I was trying to do with the operation. I wanted to rule by respect, not by fear. But as I stared at the three men in front of me, I knew what had to be done. I didn't want to do it. I promised myself I wouldn’t get my hands dirty unless I absolutely had to. But these men weren’t letting up. I wasn’t paying them for guns I didn’t need, and since there was no paper trail, nobody would ever trace the weapons back to the deal my father made with them. I didn’t see any other way out of this mess that didn’t end in someone’s death.

And if I was going to turn my family around, it couldn’t be my death.

“I don’t want this ending badly,” I said.

“Then cough up the cash,” the man said.

“There’s no sort of deal we can come to where we all walk away happy?” I asked. “Because I don’t need those guns. They’ll simply sit here and wait for the police to trace them back to you.”

“Oh, you’ll take them. And we’ll take our money. You’ll get the guns off this damn dock and out of our sight, and then we can talk about doing another deal.”

“There will never be another deal, gentleman. Let’s get that very clear right now,” I said.

“Your father was a good customer of ours. We greased his palms, and he greased ours. We have no intention of letting our connections to your family go.”

There it was.

The straw that broke my back.

They could force these guns on me and take my money. They could threaten my life if I didn’t give it to them. They could even take their best shot at trying to take me out before my bodyguards pumped their bodies full of lead.