Loyalty Test

Axel finally gets his big break. All he has to do is pass a simple loyalty test.

Approximately 2500 words

Loyalty Test
by
Max Griffin

        Axel ignored the valet parking and pulled his battered Silverado into the Hermitage’s parking lot. It was a typical July afternoon in Dallas--ninety degrees, the perfect temperature for murder. His eyes burned from a trickle of perspiration, and he mopped his brow with a wrinkled, crimson kerchief.  It wasn’t the heat that made him sweat, though.  It was the summons from Mr. Nevsky.

        At least the lot was mostly empty. He’d never been to the Boss’s office before, but he figured mid-afternoon must be a slow time for a fancy joint like the Hermitage.  Axel parked in a remote corner, away from the scattered Bentleys and Maseratis.  He killed his engine, which coughed and dieseled for a few moments before giving up the ghost.  He took a shuddering breath and took a quick swig from his flask to settle his nerves.  He couldn’t think of anything he’d screwed up, at least not recently.  Maybe he’d survive the afternoon.

        On the other hand, a summons from Mr. Nevsky could turn out to be a good thing. Maybe, just maybe, this would at last be his big chance, the chance he’d been waiting for all his life.

        He trudged across the hot asphalt toward the rear of the building, past the rancid trash cans and the grease trap, stopping at a door marked STAFF ONLY.  He pressed the button to its right, and a buzzer rasped from the interior.

        The door opened, and a pile of hard muscle, six-foot-six tall if he was an inch, glowered at him.  “Yeah?”

        Axel said, “I’ve got an appointment with Mr. Nevsky.”

        The Muscle looked at him like he was already a piece of dead meat, ready to dump in a landfill. However, he inquired in a flat tone. “Name?”

        “Axel.  Axel Brown.”

        The Muscle hesitated and Axel held his breath, but then the Muscle stepped aside and said, “Come in.”

        The too-cool air of the interior made Axel’s sweat-soaked shirt cling to his clammy torso.

        The Muscle stopped just inside the door and announced, “I gotta pat ya down.”

        Axel said, “I’m not carrying,” but held his arms out and submitted, letting the Muscle grope his crotch and torso.  He even checked Axel’s ankle, where he usually kept his Ruger.

        The Muscle finished his task and said, “Okay. You’re clean.” Axel could swear he sounded disappointed. “Follow me.”

        The Muscle led him into the kitchen, where an array of employees in white cook’s clothing worked on the evening’s menu.  A door opened to a hallway with plush carpet and fancy-schmancy paintings of flowers on the oak-paneled walls. After about twenty feet, they entered a waiting room where another bit of Muscle sat behind a desk.  This one wore a tailored suit that must have set him back at least a thousand bucks.

        Muscle Two looked up from his computer and gave Axel the same you’re-dead-meat look as Muscle One before saying, “You must be Mr. Brown.  Right on time, I see.  Have a seat.  Mr. Nevsky will be with you shortly.”

        Muscle One stood at parade rest by the door that must lead to Mr. Nevsky’s office, while Muscle Two went back to fiddling with his computer.  Axel looked around, and settled onto the sofa next to the wall.  He ran a finger along the soft-as-a-whore’s ass leather, and wondered how much it had cost.

        Axel thought about his flask, but cupped a palm over his mouth and exhaled the scent of cheap whiskey.  It wouldn’t do for Mr. Nevsky to think he’d shown up drunk, so he slipped some pocket mist from his slacks and sprayed mint into his mouth. Both Muscle guys ignored him.  He wiped his brow again with the wadded-up and sweat-soaked kerchief and tried to not fidget.

        After five squirming minutes that felt like a lifetime, a discrete buzzer sounded and Muscle Two said, “Mr. Nevsky will see you now.”

        Muscle One opened the door, and Axel stood and strode into the inner sanctum, doing his best to look confident.

        Mr. Nevsky sat, or more like relaxed, behind a vast, oak desk.  A single printed sheet of paper lay on the desk, along with a multiple-line telephone.  The Boss was maybe in his late forties or perhaps fifty, fit, but a bit beefy, with dark hair cunningly styled to conceal a bald pate. He smiled with his mouth, but his cold eyes bore into Alex like daggers.  “Axel, my boy.  So good of you to come.”

        Like he had a choice.  Axel managed to stammer, “Thank you for asking me, Mr. Nevsky.”

        Nevsky glanced at Muscle One. “We won’t be needing your services, Gabe.”

        Muscle One, Gabe, said, “Very good, sir.”  He pivoted, stepped into the outer office, and closed the door.

        Axel’s heart stopped pounding, or at least quieted a little bit.  Nevsky wouldn’t have sent his Muscle out of the room if the plan for the meeting included Axel’s immediate murder or torture.

        Nevsky made a little tent with his fingers and said, “How long have you been working for me, Axel?”

        “Five years, now, sir.”

        Nevsky picked up the single piece of paper on his desk and said, without looking at it, “Five years, three months, and two days, to be precise.”

        That sounded right.  “Yes, sir.”

        “Rock Colter recruited you, as I recall.”

        “Yes, sir.”  Where was this headed?

        “I’ve been watching you. You’ve done good work for me. Consistent. Reliable. I value that.”

        Axel’s heart quickened, but not in fear this time.  Maybe  this was going to turn out well after all.  “I do my best, sir.”

        Nevsky nodded. “That makes you a valuable employee.”  He put the paper down and his smile dimmed. “But, as much as I value good work, there’s something I value more.  Do you know what that is, Axel?”

        Axel swallowed.  This had to be a test.  “Loyalty?”

        The smile came back. It almost, but not quite, made it all the way to Nevsky’s eyes. “Exactly!  I knew you were smart, Axel. Loyalty, unquestioning and total.  That’s what I value most.”  His gaze again turned razor-sharp.  “I see a great future for you, Axel.  But first, you must pass a final test. A loyalty test.”

        A great future!  Axel would do anything for that. Even the inevitable test. “I’m ready, sir.”

        Nevsky nodded.  “Rock Colter’s a friend of yours, am I right?  The two of you have handled many jobs for me over the years.”

        Axel hesitated.  The test couldn’t involve the Rock. No way.  Colter was his idol, the man he most wanted to be like.  “Yes, sir.  He’s awesome. I’ve learned a lot from him.”

        Mr. Nevsky’s voice turned grim.  “That’s the problem.  You see, it turns out the Rock isn’t loyal to me. In fact, he’s betrayed me.”

        Panic made Axel’s voice quaver, “I swear, I’ve never seen nothin’ like that sir. For positive sure, I ain’t never done nothin’ to betray you, neither.”

        Nevsky’s voice turned gentle. “Haven’t ever done anything, Axel.  Haven’t ever done anything.  I want to believe that. That’s why you’re here. To give you a chance to prove it to me.  To pass a test, a loyalty test. Once you’ve passed it, you’ll be a made man.”  He opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a shiny, stainless-steel pistol.  “Do you recognize this?”

        Axel caught his breath. “It’s a 22LR Ruger, sir.  I carry the aluminum version.”  His ankle felt naked without the usual holster strapped to it.

        “I know you do, just not for our meeting today.  I watched Gabe frisk you on the surveillance camera, to be sure you’d followed instructions.  I always double check, to be sure. Anyway, that’s why I’ve got this one, just for you. For your test.”  He wiped his prints off it with an immaculate linen handkerchief and then pushed it across the desk.  “Check it out.”

        Axel picked it up, felt its heft, worked the action, and checked the clip.  “It’s not loaded.”

        “Gabe will provide you with the necessary supplies.”

        Axel nodded.  He’d already figured out what his test was going to be.

        Nevsky continued, “I need to be certain you’re loyal.  You can prove it by taking care of a traitor. Someone who has violated my trust. Someone who has been disloyal.”

        Of course, the test was murder.  Axel was ready. “Yes, sir. You can count on me.”

        “Good.  That so-called Rock asshole has been skimming profits from me.  You can imagine what would happen if everyone did that.  We can’t let that continue. I’m sure you know what you need to do.”

        “I understand, sir.” No details spelled out, of course, in case there was a wire somewhere. Sure, Colter had been Axel’s friend, even his mentor.  So what?  It wasn’t Axel’s fault the dumbass had screwed up.  Worse yet, he’d gotten caught. The Boss was smart, smarter than Axel for sure. Even smarter than the Rock, who deserved what he was going to get. Besides, if Axel didn’t do it, someone else would.

        Mr. Nevsky pushed a button on his desk.  When Muscle One came back in the room, he said, “Gabe here has arranged a meeting for you.  He can give you the details and the necessary supplies.” He narrowed his eyes and added, “I’ll expect you back here at nine tonight. Use your phone to take a picture to verify that you’ve passed your test. After that, we can discuss your future.”  He paused and his expression turned cold.  “Dismissed.”

***

         
        Axel sat in his Silverado, smoking a joint and taking an occasional hit from his flask. He was parked near the softball field in Reverchon Park.  Traffic on the MacKinnon Expressway swished nearby, semis roaring and cars honking in the evening rush hour.  The park was a tiny patch of wildwood and nature trails just north of downtown, off Harry Hines Boulevard, secluded and mostly abandoned at supper time.  Later, after dark, faggots would swarm all over the place, but this time of day it was the perfect place for his meeting with the Rock.  Mr. Nevsky sure did know what he was doing.

        Axel checked his watch.  Five-thirty-two. Colter was late.  Axel took another swig from his flask and wiped his lips.  He’d stuffed the Ruger Mr. Nevsky had given him in the waistband of his trousers. The metallic hardness against his privates felt good.  Right.

        He took a final drag on his joint and flicked the butt onto the asphalt.  He thought about lighting another, but a white BMW appeared on the far side of the softball field, on the roadway leading to the parking lot.  Show time.  Axel climbed out of his pickup, tucked the Ruger in his ankle holster, and lounged against the open driver’s-side door, waiting.

        Rock Colter stopped his car next to where Axel stood and his window rolled down.  “Good to see you, Axel. How’s it hangin’?”

        “Good. You?”

        “Same. I infer you must have gotten a message from Mr. Nevsky, too. Always good to be working with you.”

        Now that he thought about it, the Rock was always using high-falutin’ words like infer. Putting on airs, like he was better than everyone else.  “Yeah.”

        “He said I’d get further instructions once I was here.” He tapped his breast pocket.  “Probably a phone call. Texts leave a record.”

        “True that.”  Axel looked around, and a jogger appeared on the roadway leading to the parking lot. Not good. “Want to take a walk?”

        The Rock gave him a big smile. “Sure, why not? I could use the exercise.”

        They strolled in silence, side by side, for several minutes, following a path that meandered into the woods and through a bramble along a railroad right-of-way.  Once he was sure no one was around, Alex stopped and knelt. “Wait up. Gotta tie my damned shoe.”

        He retrieved the Ruger and, still kneeling, pointed it at the Rock.  “Sorry about this, Colter. Ain’t nothin’ personal.”

        The Rock’s eyes bulged and he held up his hands. “Axel, what are you doing?  We’re buddies.”

        “You ain’t my buddy.  You been rippin’ off Mr. Nevsky, and not even sharin’ with me.  He’s onto to you, too. I gotta prove to him I wasn’t part of it.”

        “That’s crazy.  I haven’t stolen anything from him, and I’ve always been straight with you.  You can trust me.  You know that.”  His voice was calm.  Steady.  Like he wasn’t seconds from being dead meat.

        “Don’t matter.  All’s what matters is that I gotta do what I gotta do.”  He pointed the gun at Colter’s belly, to get a surer shot.

        “Don’t do this, Axel.  I’m a cop, and I’m wearing a wire.”

        A cold ball formed in Axel’s gut.  “What? You ain’t no cop.”

        “I am. I’ve been under cover for over six years.  I’m wearing a wire because we’re about to arrest Nevsky’s whole gang.  If you kill me, it’ll be on the wire, and you’ll get the chair.  This is Texas, and cop killers get executed.”

        Axel bit his lower lip. “I don’t believe you.”

        “Think, Axel.” A siren sounded from the nearby freeway. “That’s my backup.  They’ve been listening.  You kill me now, and your life will be over.  Hell, they might just shoot you on the spot when they get here.  No one will care.  You’ll be a cop killer.”

        Axel let his aim waver. The siren could be just a coincidence.  Panic swarmed through his brain. “Mr. Nevsky, he’ll kill me if I don’t follow through.”

        “Mr. Nevsky won’t be in a position to do squat. He’ll be in jail, along with the rest of his no good gang of losers.”  The Rock held out his hand. “Give me your gun, Axel.  Surrender now, turn state’s witness, and I’ll take care of you.  Trust me.”

        Axel let his pistol arm drop. “Betray Mr. Nevsky?”

        The Rock nodded.  “It’s the only way you’ll survive, Axel.  You gotta think of yourself, not him. The cops, they’ll be here any minute.  Once they get here, it’ll be too late.”

        Axel heaved a deep breath. What choice did he have? “Okay.  I’ll do it.” He let his pistol fall to the dirt.

        The Rock reached behind his back and pulled out his own pistol, a  SIG Sauer P320, just like the cops use.  He pointed it at Axel’s head.

        An electric thrill jittered down Axel’s spine.  “What gives, Colter?  You don’t gotta threaten me with a gun. I said I’d do it, turn state’s witness.”

        “I heard you.  That’s why I’m going to kill you.”

        Axel rolled to the ground, snatched up the Ruger, pointed it at the Rock, and pulled the trigger.

        It clicked.

        No bang. No flash. No kick.

        Just a click.

        The Rock snorted.  “You think the Boss gave you a working weapon? You always were a dumbass.  I knew better, but Mr. Nevsky, he's going to be disappointed you failed your test.”

        The muzzle flash from Rock Colter’s gun was the last thing Axel ever saw.