The Jericho Files #5.2

I awoke to the sound of electricity crackling and sparks flying everywhere. My eyes took some time to adjust, as it was almost pitch black wherever I was at. I tried to move, but apparently was strapped down in a chair and felt a slightly pressure in my head which means I was almost hanging upside down. I had no way to determine my whereabouts or know what time it was. All I knew was I was tired and my head was killing me. The sparks or burnt smell they were creating weren't helping.

I began to hear some movement and voices no higher than a whisper, I strained to listen but was unable to make anything out. They seemed to be far away, so I began to make deductions based on what I had seen so far. I was apparently in a large room, as there were far off individuals that I could barely hear. I was being held in a chair in an uncomfortable position, and there was someone making sparks nearby. This only meant one thing.....

Interrogation.

At that point, my eyes began to adjust and I could see only two men in the room. One seemed to be holding a welding torch in his hand and was creating the sparks I saw when I woke up. They seemed to be welding several parts of metal together, although it was hard to tell at the time. The pieces of metal seemed to be shards with sharp jagged points. They didn't look friendly, but then again, nothing felt friendly about this place. I began to prepare myself for a world of pain.

I laid my head back and closed my eyes. There was no use in attempting to escape because they were blocking the only entrace. Besides, the longer I stayed here, the more I could find out about my captors. It was obvious that whoever they were, they were up to no good. There was a high chance they were the Lebanese soldiers we were looking for.

I slowly let myself slip into a being of relaxation. Suddenly, I was back on the farm in Ireland. My mother was on the porch cleaning the day's catch my father had brought in. I was out in the fields, tending to what little crops we had. I watched my mother work vigorously to clean the fish and game. It was getting late in the day and we wouldn't have much daylight left to work. She never quit, whatever got the job done. Where my father's job ended, hers begun and continued at a blinding pace.

You couldn't help but be impressed. The family was famous for it's work ethic. We never quit. We never tired. There was always a solution.

I let myself slip just slightly to my current situation. I wouldn't quit either, I wouldn't tire during this interrogation. I refused to be the weak link in this chain of my outfit.

I was ripped from my being of relaxation by a strong tug of my hair. My eyes snapped open to be greeted by an ugly sneer on a man of middle eastern descent. His features were crude and weathered. He had seen combat, his scars spoke that. He stared a hole through me, trying to frighten me. He opened his mouth to speak, and a foul stench of wine and old meat came forth in his breath. He was definitely a soldier, as hygiene care was not top on your list when you were in skirmishes. He began to speak in a dialect that took me a little to decipher. As I caught up on the translation, I knew that I was in for a long fight.

“Hello Dog, you can either talk and die quickly or be silent and die slowly. It is your choice....choose now”

He picked up a rugged combat knife and placed it against my face. I took a stock of the situation:

I was restrained in a chair slightly upside down, the blood was rushing to my head at an astounding rate that I was beginning to see spots. I had two men concocting insane devices to interrogate me. They wanted my identity and what I was doing here. More than that though, they wanted my life.

I think my decision became quite clear then.

I kept my mouth shut.

The Jericho Files #5.1

“CLEAR!”

The shock of electric paddles coursed through my body. I was quite aware of what I was going through, although I don't think the doctors were. There were 3 doctors and what seemed like 1500 nurses all working over me, trying to resuscitate what seemed to be a dead body. I was far from dead though. I guess you could have described me in a physical limbo. On the outside, I was dead. Cold to the touch. But on the inside.

I was very much alive.

It sounds pretty extraordinary, I know. But I guess it's more extraordinary how I got here.

Several weeks ago, I was with my outfit in an section of the Golan Heights. We had been deployed secretively to gather intelligence regarding an increase of Lebanese soldier presence in that area. The Golan Heights were still very much ours, we decided to send a small group there to check it out.

We had been held up in a run down hotel so as to not attract attention. Because of the sophistication of the Lebanese army, I also had to stay off my wires. My supply chains were not at my fingertips, so I had to be on the lookout for anything that could be of use to the army. Because we were trying to be discreet, we packed light.

This is what I would call a challenge for me. It's not everyday that I have my ties severed. But they are not what keep me going, either. I make sure to always have backup plans.

It was late at night, and we had been in that hotel for 4 days observing the area and the people looking for individuals who stood out. After 4 straight days of spying on people, it's hard to tell who is who anymore. The group was getting stir crazy. I decided, against my better judgment, to go on a small patrol to get a better scope of the area. I had hoped this would speed up our reconnaissance and get us home sooner

I left the building at 12:45am and began to walk the streets of the Golan Heights village named Majdal Shams. It wasn't the prettiest place in the world, I hold that distinction for my native Ireland. I have learned from traveling though, that every place has it's own beauty. Be it hidden or world renowned, it is everywhere.

I strolled street after street, taking mental notes and drawing a map in my brain of the town's layout. I made special note of awkward buildings or unusual markings for further navigation. Nobody stood out to me. I tried not to be too intrusive while I investigated back alleys for any odd personnel.

As I turned a corner, something bright caught my eye. It was just a flash, but it was enough to alert me.

Sniper.

I acted like I dropped something behind me and quickly ducked back around the corner and just held my breath. If someone was scoping me, that meant they knew who I was or they were just as suspicious as my team was. Snipers are very rarely alone too, this meant that if I drew attention to myself, I would be surrounded by his teammates within 30 seconds.

My only option was to casually walk around the corner again and continue walking. Never making eye contact with the sniper and trying to find some cover. Not walking around that corner would alert the sniper that I knew he was there and he would call his associates.

I was in a tight situation either way.

I adjusted my jacket and walked around that corner once again. I scoped my surroundings. I was on the sidewalk of a slightly narrow road. Straight ahead, the road dead ended and either turned left or right. Based on the glint, the sniper was in the tall, almost 3 story building several blocks down to my left. No matter which turn I took put me in the path of that sniper. I continued walking as if on a wire, pretending to be walking casually. I could that scope burning a hole in my ear. He had me zoned up and was ready to take me out.

It was at that point that the door of the building I was walking by swung open and 3 heavily arms guys jumped out and grabbed me. I began to resist and felt the butt of a gun hit me hard on the head.

Then everything went dark.......

The Jericho Files #4.3

My hand was gripped to the door of that metal container so hard that my muscles ached. I had only split seconds to act and open this door. If I didn't, I was sure to be torn apart by the multiple guns at my back.

When I opened that door, a barrage of bullets were bound to come my way. Howard had decided to use me as a human shield to ensure that they survived the assault. I think to think fast and find a way to get this door open and remove myself from the path.

My mind raced and then settled on a tried but true solution.

I jiggled the handle of the container, faking like it was stuck. I began to pull in a frantic state, seeming just as eager as they were to get it open. I could hear every single one of them stop breathing, anticipating a trick of some kind.

“It's jammed”, I said with a degree of frustration in my voice. I was fully prepared to play this off like a disappointment if they believed it. “I can't get it open!” I shouted and began to grip the handle tighter, placing both feet on the doorway for more leverage. I kept silently begging them to take the bait.

I looked back at Howard with a “help me” look in my eye. All I needed was for him to believe me and get his goons to help me. Then my plan to open this door and get out of the way quickly could take place.

Howard hesitated just for a second, then made a quick nod of his head. His goons jumped into place right behind me, grabbing me and each other to create a chain of force to pull the “stuck” door open. They began to yank and I faked pulling for a just another second or two.

Then I let my plan open up.

I flicked the one latch on the door that was really keeping it closed. The door swung open with amazing force. The goons had generated quite a pull and therefore the opposite reaction threw us all back. Their grip on me loosened and allowed me to stay clung to the container door, which swung open and out away from the entrance to the container.

“Stop Hi---” was all I heard Howard shout before the scream of automatic turret guns opened fire. I stayed clung to the door and hung on with all my might. The sensors in the security system would soon detect that the “threat” had been eliminated and shut itself off.

Several seconds passed, and it seemed like hours. The whir of the guns finally died down. I let my feet touch the floor and walked around the corner to view the carnage.

5 dead goons, 1 dead ex-business partner. They had been subject to the full force of the security system. It was a messy scene. One that, despite my reputation, made me slightly ill. I was glad to be alive, but the price paid wasn't on my top list of great memories.

I cautiously tiptoed amongst the remains to the container. The separate security measures were certainly working, as I was not being turned into swiss cheese. I had to examine the cargo to make sure nothing had been damaged.

I walked into the container and began to pull back the heavy tarps that covered boxes upon boxes of items that Howard and his thugs had died for. I inspected the Arabic script written on the box to ensure that there was no damage, and no switch had taken place during our invasion. Everything was in perfect order.

I replaced the tarps and walked out of the container, closing and latching the door behind me. I decided to reset the guns later. I had a mess to clean up. I made several phone calls to my cleaners, asking them to dispose of the current mess and to make it quick and quiet. I then made my way back to my main office. I had a lot of rebuilding to do. The security system software would have to be rebuilt from the ground up, as well as make sure all the turrets were restocked and calibrated. My facility had taken a minor hit, but nothing I couldn't learn from.

I would be a fool if I didn't say that it bothered me that Howard was the one to betray me. I learned a long time ago from my dad that trust shouldn't be easily gained, especially in business. When it is gained, you should have a friend and associate for life.

Apparently, Howard didn't have the same father.

Betrayal isn't new to me either. I have had a lot of people try, and succeed, to stab me in the back. This was no different. It always boiled down to one thing

Nothing Personal, Just Business

The Jericho Files #4.2

"I'm sorry it had to be this way, Mr. Carey"

That voice was unmistakeable. I almost didn't believe my own ears when that sentence was uttered. I turned my head slowly to see the group of masked men part, and the owner of that voice step forward.

By his appearance, one would take him for an ordinary individual. But I knew him as more, so much more. His thin wiry frame would make one assume he had no possible contribution to society. But I knew better. Beneath that thin, bony face laid the brain that helped design this factory. The hands that held a Glock9 pistol also helped build the very security system that had kept me prisoner. The man who was pointing that Glock9 pistol at my forehead, was my confidant. My most trusted business partner.

He was Howard Rames, my second in command.

"Howard," I said, "Would you mind telling me exactly what you are doing holding a pistol to my head...instead of them?!"

Despite this obvious betrayal, I seemed to be remaining quite calm. It surprised even me. Howard and I had met several years during a business transaction gone bad. A shootout ensued and me and Howard ended up aiming for the same people. After the hostilities had died down, me and Howard decided that maybe working together would save us time, money and aggrivation. We pooled our resources. His brain and my connections proved to be an unstoppable team. We began to 'redirect' shipments from all over the world to our own location. Our warehouse began to fill so quickly, we were having to expand weekly. Our team seemed unstoppable.

Or so I thought.

Howard chuckled. "You always were one for humor, weren't you Carey? Unfortunately, the jokes on you this time. It's always been on you. Too bad you were too wrapped up in your "business" to see that I've been trying to trap you since our partnership began."

"It only makes sense, Howard. Who else could break the security system? Who else knew about the fence? Who else knew exactly where the shipment these men are here for was located at?" I said calmly. I wasn't angry...not yet. I had learned a long time ago that eventually, everybody will betray you. So I make certain....precautions.

"Now stand up" Howard flicked the gun at me. "Let's take a walk and go check on that shipment. We have an interested customer."

I was lifted to my feet, the laptop falling from my lap to the floor, as I was shoved away, I glanced at the screen. The words Transfer Complete stared back at me. It was only a matter of time now before the security system would be completely useless. I walked with the group without protest. If I was going to get out of this alive, I would need to be smart and not fight until the right moment.

Howard for the most part was remaining quiet. For a man who had betrayed someone as prestigious as myself, I expected more gloating. But what can I say? People tend to surprise you.

We walked through the large containers in the warehouse, heading towards their prize. Container #1319203. I don't blame them for fighting so hard for this container. It contained something that could make it's owners very very rich.

We left one warehouse and entered another. The containers would seem like a maze to anybody else. But to me and Howard, it was second nature to navigate them. It's no wonder his masked cohorts were able to find me so quickly.

"You're unusually quiet, Carey, for someone who is about to have a prized possession taken away from him" Howard said to me.

"I find it hard to believe that any possession is worth the fight. There is always something more valuable." I spoke in a reserved tone. Howard wanted me to be angry over this, I wasn't going to let him enjoy this moment at all. Besides, in a few short minutes, he wouldn't be enjoying anything.

As we passed through the warehouse, I could only hope that Howard hadn't remembered my inner security policy. The cargo in that container was precious to me, and when it comes to precious things, I take extra precautions. I had an inner security system installed in the next warehouse. It was a separate entity from the automated turret system I had turned against me. This system was much more sophisticated and deadly. It was impossible to turn it against me because the system had a double encryption on it's passwords. It could never be cracked. I had the world's most famous hackers attempt it. They walked away in frustration.

If Howard knew about the system, he wasn't letting on. He seemed quite proud of himself to have gotten this far. It was time to put him in his place.

We entered the final warehouse. As we drew closer to the container, I faked a loud sneeze. The group immediately had their guns on me. I could tell they were nervous by the slight wavering of their guns.

Howard stopped his stride and turned to face me. He walked towards me until we were face to face. He took his pistol and pressed it against the bottom of my chin.

"You allergic or something?" Howard asked, the look on his face had me concerned.

"Only to backstabbers" I said through clenched teeth. He deserved that shot and then some. He would get what he deserves as soon as we opened that container.

Howard sneered, and pulled the gun from my face. He kept walking through the containers. Howard was too angry from my comment to thoroughly think through my actions. My sneeze was an activator. That loud noise was high enough in decibals to activate the inner security policy. As soon as they opened the door, the security system would ensure the cargo was never touched.

As we approached the container, Howard suddenly stopped. He pointed to me. One of the masked men grabbed me by the arm and led me to the front of the group. Howard shoved me towards the container door.

"Open it" he said. His sterness was admirable, but not very effective.

"Are you scared of something, Howard?" I said, with a challenge. Howard did not like being messed around with, and he proved this by sticking the barrell of the gun in my ear.

"Do not mess with me, now open it." Howard pushed my head away with the gun.

I was in a tough spot now. By opening this container, I had a high chance of taking the full blast of the security system's countermeasures. Therefore, voiding my chances of getting out of this alive. I surveyed the situation.

One way or another, I was in deep trouble.

*to be continued*

The Jericho Files #4.1

Do you want to execute? [y/n]

I stared at the computer screen, completely unsure if I actually wanted to execute this command or not. Doing so would most assuredly wipe out the security systems of my own personal warehouse. But desparate times called for desparate measures.

Pershaps I should go back to the beginning.

Two days ago, my warehouse received what could simply be called a 'redirected shipment'. The original owners would like to call it 'hijacked', but I've always considered that to be such a dirty word. In business, it's not what you say. It's how you say it.

Anyway, the redirected shipment was quite precious to their original owners. They considered it precious enough to send a squad of trained hitmen in to retrieve it.

They began by breaching the outer perimeter of my land. My fences were electrified in random spots that constantly cycled themselves. I like to keep them guessing. How they climbed or got past it, I'd love to find out.

My warehouse, on the outside, looks like one big building. On the inside, you may be amazed to discover the one big building is just a shell that houses close to 20 different smaller warehouses. These store all my various 'findings' over the years, not to mention my arsenal of vehicles, weaponry, and equipment for jobs. Most of the warehouses are locked and sealed, but all were controlled by a centralized database of computerized security machines. If one got breached, all of the warehouses would lock down tight. Keeping anybody else, but locking everyone else in.

It also was quite smart in it's countermeasures. It was programmed to constantly use it camera's to examine the occupants of the building, and match them against a database of biometric characteristics. Such as heart rate and pulse. To determine if the individual was a welcome or unwelcome guest. It would then react accordingly.

The assailants had breached my land, and entered my main warehouse shell. They were now making their way into the first warehouse. My security cameras were picking them up, but not responding any other way. This raised my suspicions, so I investigated.

As I began to examine the security system for flaws, I discovered a problem. a BIG problem. They had planted a virus in my security system. The virus was elaborate enough to remove my database of biometrics and replace it with the information of my unwelcome guests.

I shuddered at what this meant. The countermeasures of the security system was now configured to treat everyone other than these robbers as unwelcome guests.

Including me.

Shortly after I realized this, I heard the click and whirr of a countermeasure becoming active. I ducked to the side behind a large metal container. My heart began to race as I hear the *CLANG CLANG CLANG* of metal bullets riveting the side of the metal container I was leaning against.

I knew my system well enough to know that all the other guns had become active as well. I was trapped in my own warehouse, with my own security system against me.

Quickly, I began to think. I had overseen the entire construction of this facility. I knew the layout better than the one who drew up the plans for me. I tried my best to remember what this warehouse contained. My mind raced through the container manifests that I had practically memorized in a frantic attempt to see if anything here could help me out.

As another round of bullets pounded against the metal container, a number sprang to my head....#56394.

Container #56394 contained a plethora of electronic equipment from a heist in Sweden. A local group of computer geeks were running their own ring of servers filled to the brim with illegally copied movies, music and other forms of media. The heist by authorities lifted the servers from the group and shipped them off for evidence. But somewhere along the road, the equipment was...lost. It's amazing what can happen when you make a detour and electronically inject some modified paperwork.

Container #56394 had what I needed. A laptop. A computer with a connection to this very much alive security system. I just had to get there without being turned into swiss cheese.

I turned my head across the corner, looking for a path to move to the next container. If I remembered correctly, #56394 was 4 or 5 containers over. I just had to move from container to container, using them for cover.

I eyed my path and took a deep breath. I placed a foot against the container I was leaning against and launched myself to the next container. I hear the gun fire up and begin to shoot rounds at me. I landed on the ground behind the other container, rolling to get the best distance away from the gun. The rounds stopped pounding the container seconds later. I continued my trek to the container.

Moments later, I reached it. #56394 was staring me in the face. I unlatched it's door and made my way in. I scrounged through the various boxes and lockers, looking for the one electronic device that could get me out of this mess. Midway through the container, I found the device I so desperately needed. I booted it up and exhaled to find that the battery was fully charged. That left me at ease, I don't think I could stand anymore of the remote control guns shooting at me.

I reached into my shirt and retrieved my memory stick. On that memory stick contained every database file and program I could ever need should my computer systems become compromised.....like they were now. I loaded the stick and accessed my files. The security system was unique in that it did not require direct access to the terminal. It could receive wireless signals at any terminal and make necessary changes. I modified the laptops wireless settings to access the security system and examine the damage.

The changes to my system were elaborate, and very well masked. The virus had hidden the options to change the settings of the system. I, in effect, was locked out. There was no way to allow my biometrics back into the system.

There was just one thing left to do.

My fingers worked frantically across the keyboard. I used the utilities on my memory stick to construct a counter-virus for my security system. This virus was designed to do two things. Find a workaround entry into the system and neutralize the virus infecting the sytem. It was also designed to completely disable the security system once the virus was found and neutralized. This way, the intruders couldn't try again.

I coded as quickly as I could. I knew the intruders were getting closer to my side of the warehouse mazes. I had to work fast. My mind was working at a frantic pact to try and create the necessary lines of code to bring my own genius design down.

What seemed like an eternity passed, as I finished the coding. I began the connection to transfer the code. As I finished the wireless handshake, I was prompted by the computer.

Do you want to execute? [y/n]

The question was an important one. Without this security system, the odds were against me with these intruders. I was out-manned and out-gunned. But either way, the system is useless to me. I pressed the enter and heard the satisfying click of the keyboard. The connection began to transfer the file to the security system.

That's when I heard another click. A loud and very audible click. Like the cocking of a gun.

And another.

And another.

And another.

And another.

I turned slowly and saw 5 men standing at the entrance to the container. 5 guns cocked and ready to blow me apart if I even moved a little.

It looks like I had been found....

*to be continued*

The Jericho Files #3

"GET OVER HERE GENTILE"

That was my commanding officer. Eitan Eshkol was his name. Loud and abrasive, but my superior nonetheless. His words were not to be taken lightly, or his discipline would be harsher than his words. I stopped what I was doing immediately and dashed over to him, snapping to attention when I arrived next to him.

He liked to call me "Gentile", it was his way of truly and firmly distinguishing me from the other soldiers. I was an Irish man, in an Israeli Army. There could be no more distinguishing me to the next guy. But, he liked to called me Gentile, so as to further set me aside. I did not mind at all.

It was the way He did business.

He stared me in the eyes with an intesity that could have lit my brain on fire, had I been guilty of something. I joined the IDF for a reason, not to steal weapons like I had from so many of my other employers, but to do just one simple thing.

Pay to the Lord's nation, what the Lord had paid to me.

"Would you mind telling me where this TANK came from?" Commander Eshtol said to me in an accusing tone. I dared not lie to this man, this was without the one man who could put me so far in the ground I'd never be heard from again.

"I acquired it, sir!" I said in the most unwavering tone I could muster. This man's stature and power in the IDF was terrifying to fathom, and tended to cause weakness in my voice whenever I knew that there was a chance he might not like my answers.

"You acquired it? One does not just acquire a tank, Carey! I want an explanation, now!" He demanded. He had not gotten used yet to the way I ran things. Since my failures as a sniper were extremely well known amongst the regiment, Commander Eshtol decided to make me a supply officer. My duties were to handle all the delivery, documentation and upkeep of our supplies. Food, clothing, and weaponry. I made sure that if somebody needed something yesterday, they had it the day before.

I ran a tight ship, I made sure that all guns and ammo was documented, I took counts after every skirmish. We had ourselves logged down to the last bullet. Nothing got out of my supply chains, but everything that was loose and unclaimed, was sure to get in. When I joined the IDF, I not only brought my willingness to fight for God's chosen people....

I had brought my business with me.

"You see sir, our opposition has this discrepancy with their tanks. Their fuselage's do not like to be filled with certain articles, as it causes a decrease in performance, and eventual shutdown. This is a well known flaw with all gasoline powered assault vehicles. What our opposition does NOT know, is that with a simple maintenance realted procedure, the tanks can be flushed and working like new again" I explained in detail as best I could, I wanted Commander Eshtol to be more curious, so he could continue to ask questions. This would either further delay my punishment, or completely revolutionize how I was able to supply this batallion.

Commander Esthol's eyebrows were raised in interest, "These....articles....what exactly are they?"

I looked at my commander like it was common sense, "Just plain ordinary sugar, sir!"

Sugar was a hot commodity in this part of the region. The batallions were only supplied with so many foodstuffs and various sweetners and spices to add to their meals, sugar was not such a luxury. It was in scarce supply. Commander Eshtol did not enjoy my insinuation.

"Do you mean to tell me that you are using SUGAR to poison the gas tanks of our opposition? Sugar is the one thing we are lowest on supply right now--"

"But commander", I interrupted. I was willing to take the punishment for interruping the commander, because I was sure he would love my explanantion. "The sugar is not from our company, that's the beauty of my plan, sir. I know one of the individuals who supplies our opposition with gasoline for their tanks. Me and him used to be in business together. To pay me back on some "debts" he owes me, I am instructing him to put 1/2 lbs of sugar per every gallon of gas he sells to our opposition."

Commander Eshtol's countenance relaxed as he pondered over the math of 1/2 lb of sugar per gallon of gas. It wasn't enough to completely render the gas useless. Over time, the sugar would eventually clog up the fuel injection systems and render the tank useless.

As Command Eshtol thought over the math, I continued. "You see, sir, over time, the sugar will continue to decrease the performance of their tanks, until they eventually die on them. Our opposition would rather leave the tanks in the desert to rot, since they are useless to them, than have them repaired. With some of the engineers, I have developed a field repair kit that can flush the tank's systems and have it operational in an hour. That gives us plenty of time, to sneak in, repair the tank, and drive it over to our enemy lines. And that sir, is where this tank came from."

I relaxed my stance just slightly and let him ponder over what I had just said. I could tell he liked the idea that I had proposed. All was fair in war to Commander Eshtol, he just wants to know what is happening in his batallion.

Commander Eshtol seemed to breaking from his pondering and looked me square in the eye. "Good job, Gentile. I like the way you work. You in line for promotion if this plan continues to work. You are dismissed" He saluted me, which I returned and then walked away.

As I walked away, I couldn't help but smile. Sticky situations come and go around here, but there hasn't been much I couldn't handle. I've been able to supply my battalion with weapons, ammo, and supplies that are 10 times better than our opposition and twice as good as our neighboring batallions. It was my job to keep this fight going....and why not?

It was my business, after all.

The Jericho Files #2

You have got to be kidding me"

That was the first thought on my mind while I was staring down the barrell of a shotgun pointed right at my face. The shotgun was unfortunately behind held by my employer, Mr. David Nebins.

Well....I guess we could call him an ex-employer now.

"Cathal......you've got two seconds to explain to me why 10 percent of my warehouse stock is missing, and I better like the answer, or I will turn your face into swiss cheese! "

Now this is what some folks would call a 'predicament'....others would call 'painting yourself into a corner'. Did I take his missing stock from his warehouse? Of course I did. Does he deserve to know? I guess he's inclined to think he does. But the bigger question is why is he so mad? It's not like he did anything with his 'stock' anyway, it just sat in the store collecting dust.

If there's one thing I can't stand, it's somebody who doesn't know how to do business. Better tell him when he wants to hear.

"Wasn't me who took it" I said in a monotone voice, hoping he'd pick up on the fact that I knew more than I was letting on before he decided to pull on that trigger.

I noticed his finger relax from the trigger. I exhaled a deep breath.

"If it wasn't you, then who was it?" He asked in a rather angry tone.

"Robbins, sir" I said quickly and forcefully. I didn't need a full name. He knew who Tristian Robbins was.

What he didn't know about Tristian Robbins was that he was my "other" employer in this business. If he never could get me work or didn't want me to do anything for him, Tristian would always have a job for me. And as such, I had a huge sense of loyalty to Tristian. Except for my last job.

Tristan wanted me to steal as much of David's 'goods' as I could for him. Tristan had always not liked something about David....no one really knew why, but he always seemed to take great pride in making David's business suffer. That was where I came in. I was the middle man David didn't know about. In return, I would be paid a handsome 'finder's fee' for my work.

I set it all up to look like someone had broken in and removed the merchandise. I hired hitchhikers to be my manual labor. In exchange for working through the night, they got 50 bucks and a ride into the next county. Complete strangers, and as far as they know, they were hired as movers.

The plan was perfect...well almost perfect. Tristan decided he was going to short me on my 'finder's fee'...which was a big mistake to begin with. If there is one thing I cannot stand, it is someone who doesn't want to spend good money to get a good job done.

And to make things worse, I discovered quickly that Mr. Nebbins' powers of deduction are far more skilled than I give him credit for. He knew that I had something to do with the robbery, he just didn't know what. He was determined he would get the information out of me.

Hence the shotgun in my face.

"Robbins?" David said in disbelief. "That scumbag. I KNEW he was behind this! I'll make he regret the day that he ever crossed my path!" David removed the shotgun from my face and stormed off.

The fact that it was Tristan who robbed him seemed to make him forget all about the fact that I might've been in on the robbery. I watched him as he stormed off and it brought a smile to my face. No one steals from me and doesn't expect some revenge.

I decided that since Tristan was probably quickly on his way to early retirement and taking Mr. Nebbins with him, it was best for me to get out of town. I packed up my things and was out on the next train. In business, things go wrong all the time. There's just one thing to remember.....

There's always more business the next county over.

The Jericho Files #1

I never really understood him.

I mean, who could? Sitting across from my desk was without a doubt the most cocky and pretentious dirtbag that had even graced my office. I couldn't stand the look of him. His whole style was dirty. His clothes were dirty. His smile was dirty. His HANDSHAKE was dirty.

But the more I stared at him, I asked myself....

Was his money just as dirty?

"I don't know, Mr. Gerrin" I said dryly, trying incredibly hard now to show too much interest. "I'm not exactly sure if you'd 'fit in' in my kind of business" I made sure to stress the "fit in" part of that sentence. I wanted this guy to know he couldn't cut it here.

"What part do I not exactly 'fit in' with, Mr. Jericho?" He answered sarcastically.

I leaned forward slightly and pursed my lips. I was going to keep my cool during this meeting, I had already decided that. This man was already on my bad nerve because of past 'business choices', now he was just being disrespectful.

"Take a look at your last few business deals. You ran 12 meth labs in southeast New Mexico, you would've gotten busted but your trained monkeys ended up taking the fall while you skipped town, with more than enough bail money" I started off, with a sharp tone in my voice. That comment made him scoff.

"Then, after that deal was behind you, you decided to run bags of coke through customs hidden in the carcasses of parrots that were stolen from a taxidermist" I continued, with a slight elevation in the tone of my voice. This one made him smile, as I can only assume the thought of stuffed parrots was amusing to him.

"As if this wasn't enough, you decided to dump a stash you were carrying down a sewer drain, and ended up poising a small towns water supply" I said with just a hint of anger in my voice. I wanted to make sure my displeasure with this guy's actions was well known.

"Look, I do what I have to do to get the job done. I would've thought that YOU of all people would appreciate what I have to bring to the table." He said remorselessly.

That did it. I slammed my hand on the table and stood up. I leaned over my desk and put my face as close to his as possible. I wanted him to feel the heat that was causing my face to burn with frustration.

"Now look here, you worthless drug peddler. I have NO NEED for anybody in my business like you. I don't care how many times you've ducked the cops, I don't care how much business you've brought to other companies, I DON'T CARE how scared or not scared you are of this business. You are NOT somebody that belongs here. You may not care about what happened yesterday, but when you run drugs, you leave a wake that lasts for the rest of your life." I said through slightly clenched teeth.

"I don't have space in my business for a drug runner. I don't have the luxury of having blemishes on my reputation. I don't need your business. Go elsewhere" I said in a slightly calmer tone. I sat back down in my chair while the individual across from me tried to remove the shock from his face.

I stared at Mr. Gerrin as he tried to recompose himself and come up with some kind of excuse. I watched as his expression turned from disbelief to a smug smile, coupled with a sneer. He just didn't want to listen to me.....

"You mean to tell me, that the great Mr. Jericho, wants to put himself on a higher pedestal than me? What makes you so better than? I run drugs, you run guns, big deal. It's business."

I sighed at his lack of vision. I was also thankful, that while he was speaking, he didn't hear the soft click of the safety switch embedded in my desk.

"That's where you're wrong Mr. Gerrin..."

*CLICK*

*SWIP*

The dart from the secret barrel in my desk had hit him square in the arm. I had placed it off center because those who sit across from me are more likely not to even notice the dart coming towards them. The toxins the dart was dipped in weren't fatal, just strong enough to make the target a drooling sack of flesh for awhile.

"You see, Mr. Gerrin...you and I have different philosophies on business. I believe, if you run weapons...it makes you a revolutionary. If you run drugs...it makes you a criminal"

By now, the toxins were starting to spread into his system. I could tell by the shifting of his eyes in a panicked state. The toxin was designed to incite the feeling of tightness in the chest. Similar to a heart attack, but more acute so as to cause alarm in the individual. But as soon as they realise what is happening in their chest, their extremities have gone numb. This only increses their panic. As the toxins spread, all they can do is sit still and pray that someone notices their plight and calls 911 or gets a doctor.

In Mr. Gerrin's case, no one called 911. I was the only one in that office besides him...why would I possibly call 911 since I was the one who gave him the toxin to begin with? No...I believe I'll let him sit there and stew in his own panic. The final phase of the toxin only takes a few more seconds. The toxin will begin to fool his mind into thinking he's losing oxygen, causing him to pass out. 25 seconds after the dart shot, Mr. Gerrin was completely docile.

"And I have no place in my business for criminals...I prefer to let the cops deal with them" I said with satisfaction in my voice. I got up from my chair to closely examine Mr. Gerrin. His body was completely limp.

This brings a smile to my face. Nobody tells me how I should run my business. Better end this conflict right.

I picked up my phone and used my #1 speed-dial. Always the most important.

"This is Jericho, get in here, I have some cleanup that needs to be done"

Excellent, my cohort will take Mr. Gerrin's body to a location, then contact the authorities to tip them off to Mr. Gerrin's whereabouts. They'll arrest him and we'll have one less drug runner on my hands.

I love my job.