Outlaw Star Fan Fiction ❯ Revenge ❯ Chapter 10

Fred Lou prepared for an appointment with a new client. A week had passed since he learned of Jim's abduction, and he was glad he had the distraction of work. He knew all he could do was wait for information to come in, and hope he could help. It was not easy, but he was always working so he couldn't dwell on it.

Most of his responsibilities involved paperwork and major business decisions. Rarely did he talk to buyers anymore, unless the buyer was Gene, or someone purchasing the highly expensive and highly illegal. Some things could not be handled by employees.

Today's client fit that description. He went by the name of Harry Williams, although Fred doubted that was his real name, because only an idiot would use their name to buy no less than ten fully-loaded grappler ships.

Fred sighed and tugged his ear. It would be fun to do what he did best. Business.

*_*_*_

Ron prepared to make a video for Gene, and Jim would be the star. Ron wished it could be live, but the risk of being traced while on Sentinel was too great. But the fact it was a video did not disappoint Ron too much. While he told Harry that he did this so Gene would be reminded of the pain, in truth, hurting Jim gave him as much pleasure as hurting Gene through Jim.

*_*_*_

"Mr. Williams is here to see you," Fred's guard announced.

"Let him wait a few minutes before showing him in," Fred replied, closing his eyes for a minute, relaxing. When he opened them, his eyes shone and his lips were curved in a wide cheerful smile. His father had taught him that a mask was vital to business, and Fred took that lesson to heart.

He shifted papers around his desk, situating them for easy access. Then he waited, and sank into full control of himself. If he controlled himself he controlled the situation and the deal.

After no more than two minutes, his guard opened the door letting Harry Williams in. His aqua hair was tied back severely, putting all emphasis on his sharp face and violet eyes. He wore his pants tight and knee-high boots over them. Harry's loose t-shirt matched his eyes, and his belt had an empty holster.

Fred Lou barely registered how handsome Harry was before he struck.

*_*_*_

"It's been a week, Starwind, and it's time to show you what pain is," Ron spoke to the camera, nearly shaking with anticipation.

"Once again, young Hawking will be demonstrated on." He silently wished he could have made it live so he could see Starwind's pain, but Hawking's would have to satisfy him.

Ron walked over to Jim, who hung by his wrists from the ceiling. His arm had dislocated itself again because of the strain. Ron ran his fingers down Jim's as-yet unharmed chest.

"Today, we'll see how well he takes being burned."

*_*_*_

In one smooth, quick motion, Harry knelt to pull a knife from his boot, stood, and stabbed Fred's guard in the gut. Harry then kicked him off the knife. The guard dropped to the ground, and his gun fell a few feet away.

Harry ran to the gun and snatched it up. With a steady hand, he raised the weapon. "Goodbye, Mr. Lou."

*_*_*_

Ron felt like an artist as he tortured Jim for the camera. The poker was his brush, and the hot oil the paint. Jim hung limply and sobbed while Ron worked on the design.

Ron finished tracing a rib with the hot poker. He trailed his fingers down Jim's chest, caressing the puss-white blisters that outlined Jim's ribs. "Beautiful," he whispered.

*_*_*_

Fred stared down the barrel of the gun, trembling. "How much?" he asked, voice shaking.

Harry cocked both his eyebrow and the gun. Harry's attitude toward killing was similar to a cat's. They both thought of it like a game, and letting the prey think it had a chance was a part of the game. So Harry let Fred think he could be paid off

Fred sighed, thinking he had a chance. With a slightly calmer voice he offered, "I can pay you twice the amount that your employer is. As well as a steady, well-paying job."

Harry smiled and took a step forward, gun still pointed at Fred's face. "Sorry, but I don't think my brother would appreciate me letting you go."

"Your brother?" Fred whispered, realizing he was screwed.

"Yeah," Harry said expressively, moving the hand that held the gun. "Ron gets pissed when I don't finish a job."

Fred's eyes widened in fear. "You don't mean Ron MacDougall?"

Harry laughed. "Yeah, life sucks don't it?" Touching the gun to his lips, he mused, "Where was I before you rudely interrupted…" Then he smiled too broadly. "Oh yes, I remember now." He pointed the gun at Fred again.

*_*_*_

After pouring hot oil down Jim's abdomen, Ron stepped back to inspect him and frowned, realizing the quiet sobs had stopped. Listening carefully, he could hear Jim's shallow breathing. He held up Jim's chin, which was slightly cold, then lifted up one of Jim's eyelids. His pupils were dilated.

Remembering the camera, Ron turned to it and smiled. "It seems that your friend has gone into shock. But don't worry, I won't let him die. I'm not done with this game." Ron picked up a remote and shut off the recorder.

*_*_*_

Fred whimpered and closed his eyes as he awaited death.

Harry let the moment drag on, the familiar manic glee that accompanied killing flooding into him. Fred's terror only pleased him more. Time stilled as Harry pulled the trigger.

Fred heard the gun go off, but there was no pain. He opened an eye and saw his bodyguard wrestling Harry to the ground. Fred stood there stupidly, watching.

His guard had one thing in mind. Save Fred. He ignored the pain in his gut from the knife wound as he fought Harry.

Using greater strength than Harry's small frame appeared to posses, he kicked the guard off. Harry jumped to his feet only to have the guard knock the gun out of his hand.

The two men continued to wrestle for the gun. Then Fred's guard saw him watching mindlessly. "Fred, get out of here!" he shouted, concerned for Fred's well being. Almost as if he'd just noticed the danger, Fred ran to the door, but the concern the guard had for Fred proved fatal.

Harry was able to gain control of the gun, and shot the guard. The bullet hit him in the chest but missed the heart. Involuntarily, he coughed up the blood rapidly filling his lungs onto Harry, who fired two more successive shots, finishing him off.

Harry stepped around the guard and the rapidly expanding pool of blood, and glanced around. There was no sign of Fred.

Fred had bolted from the room just in time to miss his guard's death, but winced as he heard the shots. The display hall was at least the size of a football field, but never before had it felt so large and threatening as he weaved through the rows of weapons.

Harry half-jogged around the perimeter, searching for Fred, running halfway around the room before spotting him. Fred was almost to the door. Immediately, Harry began taking shots at Fred, growling, "Die! Die! Die!"

One shot hit, catching Fred in the shoulder, but Fred opened the door and ran out. Harry followed only to see Fred speeding away in a car.

*_*_*_

Gene woke up to pounding at his door. It was noon and the girls knew better than to come this early.

Slowly, Gene sat up on the floor, and out of a puddle of drool. He had passed out on the living room floor the night before. Amazingly, Gene had been sober since Jim was gone, as well as virtually starving himself, because he just didn't feel like eating or drinking. But last night he'd given in to his old mistress. She had been good to him the night before, but today Gene had a killer hangover.

"Gene!" a familiar voice shouted from outside. Carefully, Gene stood up, and walked to the door. He opened it to reveal a very distressed Fred Lou.

"Gene! Thank God you're here." Fred flung himself at Gene, and held on desperately with one hand. "MacDougall sent his brother to kill me," he began, and retold the previous events.

Gene paid no attention. Fred's voice cut through his skull, and it was all he could do not to rip Fred apart for waking him up. Then Gene noticed the shoulder of the hand not holding on to him was bloody - very bloody. Dumbly, he interrupted, "You've been shot."

Fred blinked. "Huh?"

"Your arm is bloody. You've been shot," Gene said, pointing to Fred's shoulder.

Fred blinked again, and repeated, "I've been shot?" He looked at his shoulder. "I've been shot!"

Fred's eyes rolled back in his head as he fainted.