Rough Draft Short Story

Dimitri Kastrinakis
1/20/10
Mr. BG
Accel English
Blood Sport
Andre stood juxtapose to the guard rail on the fourth floor in the empty Michael’s Apartment in the shadows. All he needed to do was wait, he was good at that. But acrimony made him angry enough to hurt, no, kill the man who had done this to him. He heard a rush of feet hurrying up past the third staircase. Infallibility was Andre’s specialty, and he would have no problem with this problem. As the man shuffled with his keys, Andre began to move out of shadows. The man, shaking with fear hurried into his apartment to immediately close the door. It closed, but not by him. The door flew open with force and the man fell to the ground screaming in pain. Andre’s brass knuckles flashed in the pale moonlight. Andre threw the man into the apartment and up against the wall. The door closed and the man looked up in fear, blood staining his suit and jacket. “Where is it!” shouted Andre, reinforced with a kick to the face. “Tell me Jack!” Jack sputtered in a frenzy. “I..i…I gave it to Angelo.” Andre stood back, shocked. Obstinately, he punched Jack again. “You gave him five million dollars? Just gave it away?” Jack’s breathing had evened as calmness overtook him for a moment. “It was for protection.” “Protection?! Where is he now, huh?” Jack took several blows in the stomach and face. Jack was bleeding profusely now and his sense was muddled. “You sold out your only friend in this world Jack, and now you’re going to leave it.” Andre wasn’t concerned; he had gotten the information he needed. He pulled out a gun and put it to Jack’s forehead. Now he needed his money, and this was a perfect way to scare Angelo. It took a few moments for Jack to respond, but a look of horror swept over his face fast enough for Andre to see the fear in his eyes before he died. Andre just laughed.
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Don Angelo was watching the Michael’s apartment the moment he had seen Andre enter it. He was atop the roof above an abandoned house looking directly into the window of Jack’s apartment. Don Angelo was actually only 37, but considered old for this trade. Money Laundering was his game, but Andre was much better at it. He was much younger than Angelo, and didn’t have the kindness he had. Andre was much more ruthless, more dangerous, more likely to kill for pleasure and without reason. This is why Don Angelo was afraid for Jack, even after selling out Andre. Faintly, he heard a tussle and screaming over the traffic a few streets down. He cringed at the gunshot, but knew what had happened. He ordered his men to meet him at the car, and he could hear the four hulking men’s footsteps all the way down to the car door opening. He knew Andre would never give up, and plotted the worst way to take him down. Angelo’s beeper flashed on and he knew that he had to leave. Andre would pay for what he had done. After all, money was a blood sport.
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Andre awoke the next day. His room was a mess but that was an impasse. He had never gotten the chance to clean it and never planned on it. What had woken him wasn’t normal though, a stench of chloroform. Someone planned on killing him, and he needed to get out of his apartment. Picking up his gun, knife and cell phone, he laconically but quickly ran out of the room. There were two armed men about to breach his door. Just then, something hit Andre. A pang of trepidation swept over him. Enough for him to hesitate, but the two men hesitated also. They were not trained as well as he was, and this gave Andre the upper hand. He stepped with his knife and jerked it into one of the men’s stomach and then across his neck. The other man pulled up his gun and pulled the trigger but Andre knocked it out of his hand. The bullet echoed throughout the apartment and Andre pulled his gun and shot without hesitation. Both were dead within a few seconds. Sprinting out of the apartment, he ran to the only other place he knew. But he first had to do something.
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Andre opened the door with Jack’s keys and stood, ready for it. Angelo sat in a chair just out of Andre’s reach, flanked by two other armed men. Also were his colleagues, men Angelo had loaned money to, given protection to, all the lower men. He started clapping, Andre had never been outsmarted before, at least the man who outsmarted him never got away alive. Angelo snorted vapidly. “You still think you’ve won haven’t you?” Andre laughed and smiled. He knew how to get inside someone’s head. “All I want is my money.” Angelo scoffed. “YOUR money? Never. It belongs to me.” “It doesn’t belong to some wannabe Italian gangster!” Spat Andre. Angelo immediately shot Andre in the leg. He writhed in pain and looked and laughed at Angelo. “That’s right, you probably never told any of your people have you?” The large group started muttering in question. “I called the police; they will pick you up shortly.” Andre had his mouth taped shut and left on the outside of the building. As soon as Andre went into that police car, nobody knew that more than just one person would die.
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“Andre Rodriguez, you have pleaded guilty to the murder of Jack Stevenson, your sentence is life in prison, you will be taken away now, anything that you would like to say on record?” Andre smiled coolly and stood from his seat. “I bet that all of you in this courtroom deserve it.” Above all, he looked directly at Angelo and his men and pulled a trigger in his pants. C4 linked to the trigger immediately exploded and destroyed the courtroom. Andre Rodriguez was now guilty of killing 54 people and the taking of his own life. After all, money is a blood sport.