A Short Story: The Contract by Frank Sonderborg (Republic of B Chapter 5)

Republic of B by Frank Sonderborg

The Contract

Jed sat in his bath and enjoyed the feel of warm water on his skin.
Gone was the hunger and the blackness. He missed them sometimes. Felt like he was losing his edge and his mind.

Brighton City of Gold had turned out to be everything and nothing. Everything as in food warmth fresh water. Nothing as in no Judy. After she left him for Genko. Should have seen that coming.

He still needed to work to earn the Gold to pay the rent. As it happened he was good at what he did. Not Graphic Design. That was another lifetime ago.
Now he disappeared people. A lot more subtle of course. A stab in the back or a hammer on the head.
A knife for hire.
He had Mr Chang as agent that got him the gigs. Who he trusted. So he was kept busy in this town.
He stood at the window overlooking the beach. Drying himself with a big old Man Utd towel.
There always was talk of football teams. A football league.
Entertainment for the morons. But for now it was all about surviving until the next day.

There was a lot of movement developing on the beach front. Lots of Mercs running around looking busy. Then he spotted Fish on the beach, General Fish himself standing with his protection team around him.
Time to go down and take a look at what was coming in today.

This looked special. He had been offered big bags of gold to take out Fish. But turned them all down. For the first it would have been plain suicide and secondly Fish was the only thing holding this mad house together. Take Fish out of the equation and it would all come tumbling down. Or in. As the baying mobs where still outside the city’s boundaries.

But still Jed was a professional and it always paid to see up close a potential mark.
He dressed as he always did, a black Italian tailor made broadcloth suit.

Black boots. Again from a migrant Spanish boot-maker. Long black dust coat. Won in a game of chance.
He had space for his guns and knives but never took any of these out on the streets when he was not working.
He could kill just as easily without them. For that was Jed's Talent.
Anyway it was against the City law to be armed without a City License. Punishable by a quick hanging.

People on horseback and rickshaws and push bikes had gathered on the road. Quite a crowd for an overcast afternoon. Fish was standing in the middle of his protection squad staring out to sea. His 8 squad watched in every direction. Ready, alert, packing scoped Heckler machine guns.

Jed was impressed. No shit professional’s every last one. There was a group of civilians closer to the water’s edge. City Hall types. Business suits contrasting with the Camo-green fatigues of the Fish boys. Out of the sea mist came a boat. A French Berck Flobart, a shallow draft boat designed for beach landing. Big sails blowing as it headed in. There was four oarsmen pulling hard.

The City boys got excited. Fish just stood there with his arms folded. Most of the deliverymen stayed off shore or came in via the great pier. This obviously was a very special delivery. It kept in coming and hit the beach. Sailors jumped down each side and started hauling it further up on the strand. The City boys scarpered out of their way. The sailors looked pretty tough. Burned black from the Sun. Swords on their backs.

There was a guy standing on the helm and he jumped down as soon as the boat had stopped. Two shadows dropped down behind him. Nasty looking types. Jed smiled. This was getting very interesting. The City boys made to intercept the muscular boat man. But he just walked straight through them and headed for Fish. Fish just watched him coming. Four scoped Heckler machine pistols lit him and his body guards up.

“Hey! No way to greet a visitor.”
Fish waved at his men to stand down. And walked up to the new arrival.
“Tardelli at your service Master,” said the boat boss.
“Where is he and where’s the package,” said Fish.
Tardelli looked upset, “Are we going to argue on the beach. We have, shall we say what you need.”
“Our team?” said Fish.
“Ahh, so sorry Unfortunate, a very bad piece of business. Fortunes of war and all that Master.”
A steam bus had come down the road scattering the crowds. So Jed moved a bit closer to hear a bit more. A civilian in a white suit and a big straw hat, had got off the boat and was looking quite scared and confused as he was pushed up in front of Fish.

“Professor Arte in person.”
“This is not the professor we expected,” said Fish, “And the package?”
“It was being unloaded as we speak.”
Jed followed the pointing arm and could see an on board crane swinging a small crate on to the beach.
“OK,” said Fish, “onto the bus.” He pointed at the boatman. “I will see you back at the Palace. Now get that boat off my beach.”
“How many can I take with me?”
“You your protection detail and him.” Fish pointed to the Professor.
“I have someone else here that wants to meet La Presidenta.”
Fish had been moving away but stopped. And turned. An oriental type of gentleman was standing beside Tardelli. Fish came back and towered over him.

“And you are?”
“I have been sent at great expense by the Great Khan to make entreaty with your La Presidenta of the fabulous Brighton City of Gold. My name is Ambassador Zhenjin at your service.”
Fish just said, “Shit, take him along as well.”
Jed was just about to make his way home when he was grabbed by the shoulders and turned around. Two of the Fish protection team where standing in front of him. “You on the bus as well.”
“What said Jed? Why me.”
“Orders, now move.”
Which found Jed on the bus along with Tardelli, his two goons, Professor Arte and The Great Khans ambassador Zhenjin. This could be fun thought Jed. And then this could be very bad.

Jed starting introducing himself. Jed, Graphic Designer, no job to big or small.
The package was loaded in the baggage area and they were off to see the La Presidenta.
The President hall of residence was the Grand Hotel bombed by the IRA in an attempt to kill Maggie Thatcher, the then Prime Minister of the UK. So it was used to turmoil. Frankie Smith was also here. Or Emperor Smith as he was getting called. He called the shots as the owner of the IT firm that saved Brighton and gave it its new name. Republic of B.

Smith had his own protection unit comprised of ex SAS and ex Para soldiers.

Called behind their back the Vandals. La Presidenta was more Smiths tame bitch.
A figure head to keep the liberals happy. Not that there was many liberals left in town. This was a town ruled by the gun.

There was the usual head-butting as the Vandals who ran protection and Fish and his men who ran City security clashed over weapons. The standoff ended when Fish just pushed his way past the eager beaver security Vandals. Smith was sitting on an upraised throne like chair. La Presidenta was standing beside him like a pet dog. She wasn’t smiling. Smith was a small angry man with a gigantic ego and even gigantic ideas. His time had come and he was going for it. Jed took this all in and knew it could only end in extreme violence.
Brooker as always was blocking the way to the throne. Fish as always just ignored him and barreled past. Smith roared at Fish.

“Fish these men are entrusted with my life. Show them some respect.”
Brooker was an ex SAS Vandal that Fish had worked with on an op in Chad.
Fish took in the rest of the hard worn faces of the security detail. Men he would have proudly served with back in the day. Now just a bunch of hired thugs.

“Enough of this.” said Smith getting a bit worried, “where is my Zero-E machine.”
Fish waved the guys carrying the wooden box forward and put it down at the throne.
Fish said. “Madam La Presidenta. It’s an honor.” Bowing to the frightened female standing beside the throne.
“Cut the fucking comedy Fish and get it open. Where’s the Professor?”
Jed had moved to the side and was watching the proceedings. Smith’s Vandals had their guns still trained on all Fish’s party including Jed.
Jed thought. Not a happy family reunion. The Professor was pushed forward.
“This,” said Tardelli is Professor Julien Arte. An expert in the field of Zero-E.
Smith snapped at this. “This is not the Professor we sent for. He pointed at the box. Does it work? Then again at Professor. Does it fucking work?”

“Well there is slight adjustments…”
“Does it fucking work. Will I get any Zero Energy out of this piece of crap?”
“In the long run,” continued the professor “it may be…”

Jed was enjoying this. How things are really run at the top was always an eye-opener.
“Prof if that thing is not working as it should in 48hrs. I am going to feed you to the mob. Understand.”

“Yes Emperor Smith I understand.” said Arte.
The salutation had not been lost on anybody in the room and it pleased Smith enormously.

“Now get it down to the lab and get it fucking working.”

Zhenjin the Khans ambassador came forward and tried to say something.

But Smith stopped him and said. We’ll talk later.
“You,” he said pointing at Tardelli, “Who the fuck are you?”
“Giuseppe Tardelli capo for the Masseroni Cartel.”

“OK, what happened our team?” He said, glancing at Fish.
“Shit happens Emperor Smith. They were lost in a firefight. Brave men all of them.”
“Fish, get the details.” Then he looked at a surprised Jed and said, “Come with me.”

Fuck thought Jed. Now I’m for the chop.
Jed joined the crowd and said, “of course you’re Majesty.”
Thought, the mad fucker has been crowned without any ceremony.
Jed was led into a bare office where Smith stood with his bodyguards and studied him.

“You know I have been watching you Mr. Jed. Mr. Graphics Designer.”
“Indeed,” said Jed.

You have some talents that I must admit. I know how you make your living in Brighton.
“Let’s say you clear away the dead wood. Like a Nepalese Vulture. Pulled Pork I believe they call it.” Then he snorted a crazy laugh
“OK, said Jed,” not amused, “Now we have cleared that up. Why am I here?”

“Well you’ve been offered certain gigs. Certain very well paid gigs and turned them all down.”

Jed knew he could only be the Fish Contract. The offers had indeed got bigger and bigger.

Jed looked at Smith and knew it could only have been coming from him.
“A man’s gotta to have some principles,” said Jed. Hoping it sounded convincing.
“Exactly.” Said Smith. “Which is why you are here. I have a job for a man of high principles. He pointed at a harried looking man with a folder. Talk to him.” Then he swept out of the office.

The bookkeeper sat behind a desk and waved for Jed to sit. He placed the large folder of papers on the desk. Then peered at Jed and said, “Mr. Jed what do you know about, “The Great Khan.”
“What, a Great Khan, well nothing. Small Khan’s maybe.”

“OK, and Bradford. Know anything about Bradford?”
Jed was dumbfounded. What in the name of Rio Tinto was going on?

“Well Emperor Smith has a job for you. And If I may suggest in the interests of your future health. You really must consider accepting the contract.

Fish was still standing with Tardelli and the Khans Ambassador when Smith came back.

We eat tonight and then we talk. Was all he said then he swept off to other meetings. Taking the terrified la Presidente with him.

One of Smiths Lackeys took the Ambassador away.
Fish grabbed Tardelli and pushed him ahead of him.
“You and me and gonna have some words.”

Jed sat and read through the documents about the new Khan in the East.
He calls himself Kublai Khan and says he is a direct decedent from the Genghis Khan.
Aren’t we all, thought Jed, according to the gene pool?

“So Khan, I can understand, pardon the pun, but Bradford?”
“Read on.”

There was a warlord in Bradford that had, “The most beautiful daughter in the west” and he was giving her hand to Khan in marriage.
“So some Gold hustler in Bradford is trying to get his hooks in with, The Khan?”
“Read on Mr. Jed.”

And there it was a contract for a payment between Jed and Smith to take the Princess Ali in safety to the Court of the Great Khan in the East.

“No way Jose,” said Jed “No fucking way.”

“You have no option said Mr. James. You are between a rock and a bullet in the brain, so to speak.

Sign it and then just do it. On your return and the completion of the contract. You will get permanent residence in Brighton and 4 bars of Gold. Everything has been prepared. Maps travel documents money supplies. You leave for Bradford in 5 days.”

“Fuck,” said Jed.

“Indeed,” said Mr. James. “You may now leave and make your preparations.”

And Mr. Jed, silence, just like your payment, is golden, understand.”

Jed nodded and left in a hurry.
Jed walked the streets of Brighton, Sin City. The City of Gold. The Republic of B.

It was buzzing with life and trade. Streets packed with people buying trading selling. All protected by the muscle and gold of Emperor Smith and General Fish. The Border ran along the old A27 and from the river Adour on one side to b2132 wooding dean. Anything outside that perimeter was a killing Zone. Jed knew Fish ran ops outside to try and keep one step ahead of the, ‘London Calling,’ rampaging mobs.

Very little news was getting filtered back to the populace of Brighton.
Who really, in all honesty, did not give a fuck, as long as they could whore and drink and keep eating their red pills.

This was Smiths Empire and he wanted to expand out, to land grab. So it made sense to do a deal with a Bradford Warlord and the Great Khan in the East. That is, as long as it was in Smiths favor.

Jed knew there would be more to this than just a protection jobbie.

He would need to chat with his partner Mr. Chang. His Mr. thirty percent.

Tardelli looked nervous as he went through the story of what happened to Fish’s Special Boat Squad.
Brigands On the road from the Swiss border. They fought gallantly but I am afraid my friend they were all killed.
Fish just looked at him.

“I’ve told you once, I’m not your friend and I am inclined to believe the Brigands was an inside job.

If I hear different Mr. Tardelli I will coming after you.”

“We are comrades in arms, why would I lie.”
“Because, Mr. Tardelli, I believe it’s your nature.

This conversation is finished. I want you and all your men out of here as soon as you fill your face. Understand comrade.” Fish walked out and left Tardelli with Smiths lackeys.

Jones, one of Fish’s bodyguards said. “What a lying sonofabitch.”
Fish nodded, “Get another team ready to travel, our boys are out there and they need our help.”

Jed watched while Mr. Chang studied the Contract.
“OK we double the price to 10 bars of measured Gold and residence for all the Chang clan.”

“Double from 4 to 10?”

“Its business Math’s Jed, said Chang and smiled. You would not understand.”

Jed did indeed understand and it’s why Chang was Mr. 30%.

“So we do it.”

“No choice my friend. But we will make our plans so you can come home in one piece.
If they accept this without qualms it can mean only one thing.”

Chang made a slicing movement across his throat.

“It means I am not expected to collect.”

“Indeed, said Chang “but it also means you will be offered another contract. A secret contract and this too you must accept.”
“What?”
“Yes Mr. Jed, and your fee for this will be 100 bars of measured Brighton gold. As you will not be collecting this either.
They will accept it after a bit of blustering.”

“How do you know all this Mr. Chang?”

“I am a Chinaman and a business man. Business men cheat Mr. Jed. It’s what we do. All the time. And I can smell a cheat a mile away. So we have to cheat smarter Mr. Jed. You will take the two Jimmy’s with you to cover your back. Jimmy Chan and Jimmy Tang. They will be in charge of the food supply which of course will include pigeon’s.”

With that he winked at Jed.

“Go get ready for this adventure Mr. Jed as it will be the making or breaking of us two.”

I shocked him by giving him a hug I owed my existence to the Chang family and he owed his life to me.
Which made us partners. Well 70/30 at least.

I went away to pack my stuff for a trip to Bradford and the far North.