Rain - 4. Chapter 4

The Voice had made it clear, in their previous meeting, that failure was the mark of a loser. His organisation employed winners. Step-up people who never declined a mission, and walk-the-talk people who benefited from the Voice's generosity on a job well done. In this city, losers had it tough, and winners made their mark. He had boasted on many occasions that he had contacts in high places. He had contacts in low places too. Beside the stranger, two of those low-life individuals stood in the room, watching the stranger's every move. The way he clasped his hands with fingers tightly wrapped around his white knuckles. The way he moved his clean shaved head, trying to glimpse the Voice's profile.

The Voice tapped his fingers on the arm rest. 'You failed me, my organisation and, above all, yourself. You have disappointed me. Failure is not an option. You understood that from one.'

He explained that his young boys succeeded with every hijacking, mugging and killing in the centre of the city and were paid a handsome reward. But how could such an intelligent man fail him? A man grounded in the law. A man who should think on his feet and at all times be three steps ahead of the law?

'I can explain, sir. Please ... I can explain.' The stranger stammered.

As the sun set over the city, casting deep, cold shadows on the streets, the Voice whispered, 'Isn't sunset such a beautiful thing? Day suddenly disappears into darkness. I'm waiting for the explanation...'

The stranger leaned forward, but the ropes around his chest kept him in the chair. 'I didn't bank on being interrupted. His doctor came into the room and from there it didn't go as planned. You must believe me, I was there. I was going to bring him to you, sir.'

'I love your manners. The way you call me sir.'

He snapped his fingers. The two men standing at the door came forward and stopped, one on each side of the stranger’s chair.

'You won't fail me again, will you, Jonathan?'

'I ... I...won't fail you again, sir.’

'Of-course you won't. But we'll need to show you the errors of your ways.'

He snapped his fingers.

One of the men grabbed Jonathan's left hand and held it in the air.

The other brought out a pair of pliers.

‘Remove two fingernails.'

Jonathan screamed, pleading for mercy.

The pliers touched his index finger.

He thrashed about in the chair, trying to make it impossible for them to carry out Voice's instruction. Fear had a colour, you could see it in Jonathan's blue eyes.

The pliers took hold of the index finger nail, and the man yanked.

Jonathan's scream filled the air.

No one heard.

'I’m prepared to give you another chance, Jonathan. If you promise to bring Rain to me I will set you free. If you fail, I will kill you.'

"Fuck you! Fuck you!'

Years and months of pent up frustration, mingled with excruciating pain, lay buried in those four words. And for a moment, Jonathan wished he was dead. All it took was a foolish mistake. One single mistake that cost him his future. If he hadn't been so bold back then. If he hadn't taken that bribe, he'd be a different man. The moment he accepted the money, he was doomed. His destiny written.

After all those years, he did not know who the Voice was. All he knew was that he was dealing with an evil that manifested itself as human. An evil that wanted his ex-lover, alive if possible, but dead would be good too.

The Voice clicked his tongue at him several times, 'Now, now. Temper, temper. Tell me how you will bring him to me. Do you know where he is?'

Through the pain, Jonathan managed to say, 'No.'

'I know where he is.' The Voice sang. 'He's with that Doctor, at his ranch in the Drakensburg. There's a car waiting for you downstairs, I would suggest you get ready to complete your mission. Take him away, and bandage those fingers.'