Big Brother is Watching

Family ties choke out the possibility of mercy

The English gentleman sighed. "I hate to disappoint you, but I'm not scared. This isn't the first time I've looked down the barrel of a gun." He paused. "What is it you want, anyway? I have money on my person, plenty. Or shall you whisk me off somewhere? I promise you'll get a good ransom from the Ministry. Let's just get this business over with."

"You're Kensington Sharp." the man with the gun moved his finger to the trigger.

"Of course I am. Look here, now...!"

Fredo raised an eyebrow.

"That is... Well, why are you going to simply shoot me? We've no quarrel. Or are you mad, one of those lunatics your American newspapers always carry on about?"

Fredo was amused that, rather than afraid, the man actually sounded indignant about his own impending murder.

He answered Sharp in two words: "Holly Ferenstein."

Kensington rolled his eyes, looking relieved. "Well... if Miss Ferenstein has sent you, my good man, you'll want to think twice about—"

Fredo pulled the trigger. Sharp fell to the ground with a surprised grunt, looked down at the blood pooling from his stomach. It doesn't even hurt, he thought distractedly.

"My little sister told me what you done to her. And that's enough reason for me. My name is Fredo Ferenstein, you slick-talking son of a bitch. And now you no longer have a name. You're just another statistic our American newspapers carry on about."

Fredo pulled the trigger again. Kensington twitched, then stopped moving. A woman emerged from the shadows, startling Fredo.

"Thank you! It's good to know my big brother has my back." She looked around, seeing no one. "And no loose ends; you're good at this."

Fredo's brow furrowed. No loose ends.

"You shoulda stayed home, Sissy."

He raised his gun again.

NOTES: ▼

Word Count: 300
Submitted for "Daily Flash Fiction Challenge" 
Prompt: Use the phrase "I'm not scared"