?

Log in

No account? Create an account

Previous Entry | Next Entry

For Your Toys Only (Episode 07)


Episode Seven
Pigalle
Directed by Guy Ritchie


"I've never seen anything like that." Brisbane said excitedly as he came by. "The man you shot is already talking."

"I shot?" Collier asked. "You mean I hit something with that mad barrage?"

"Yes." Brisbane nodded quickly. "Too much blood for it to have been mine. The man was saying that Michel Ricco hired them. He's a gangster that operates in Montmartre."

"How you feel about going to Montmartre and rousting a gangster then?"

"Rousting?"

"Yeah." Collier said. "It means to kick out of bed or to rudely shake."

"Yes, I know what it means, I just haven't heard anyone ever use that word outside of a movie before. Is it in common usage in Michigan?"

"No." Collier sighed. "There are many things that aren't in common use in Michigan, that's why I left. You want to come?"

"Certainly." Brisbane nodded. "Near you might be the only safe place in the city until you leave it."

"That's probably supposed to be a compliment isn't it?" Collier asked.

"I can't tell myself." Brisbane said. "But it is true."

They had to take a cab to the Sexonomics Club, which was just down the street from the Sexodrome on Pigalle. Collier looked up at the name of the club and then at the two pornography shops that flanked it, one claiming to have the best ladyboy porn in France and the other merely holding a twenty eight inch dildo in the window with a bottle of lubricant nearly as big.

"That is what I love about the French." Collier muttered with a completely straight face.

"What?" Brisbane asked.

"They have such a subtle and sophisticated view towards sexuality." Collier's face still didn't show a hint of emotion. "You might not even know what these shops were trafficking in unless you entered them. So damn refined."

"Are you joking?" Brisbane asked.

"Sometimes I wonder that myself." He said as they walked in.

This being the middle of the afternoon, there was nothing going on, but there was a man behind the bar who started talking to them in French. Brisbane spoke back and the man started to look agitated when Ricco's name was mentioned. Collier might not have been able to understand everything, but he could understand that the bartended either didn't know where Ricco was or was pretending he didn't. After a few more exchanges with Brisbane, Collier became convinced that he was pretending.

"He doesn't know where Ricco is, hasn't seen him in three days."

"Oh?" There must have been something in his tone as he uttered that single word that let both men know that this was the wrong answer. Both their faces changed when he spoke. He turned the bartender and spoke plainly. "Where the fuck is Ricco?"

"Pardon?" The bartender asked, trying to imply that he didn't understand.

"Don't pardon me mother fucker." Collier said imitating the accent on pardon. "I asked you a fucking question that I can tell you understand."

"Pardon?" The bartender asked again.

Collier walked towards the bar, grabbed the bartender and yanked him over the bar. He threw the man onto the floor, drew out the Walther and shoved it in his face. The man looked worried, but that was understandably.

"Say pardon again!" He shouted. "Say pardon one more time! I dare you! I triple dog dare you! Say pardon to me again mother fucker! Where the fuck is Ricco?"

"I don't know!" the bartender shouted. "He left three days ago, he went to his place in the Bahamas! Please, that's all I know!"

"Thanks." Collier let him go and stood up, quickly reholstering the pistol. "See Brisbane? We Americans know how to solve the language barrier problem. We just swear at people and threaten to shoot them until they speak English."

"What happens if they really don't speak English?"

"Usually we bomb the fuck out their entire country." Collier said and smiled.

"You're a bit cynical aren't you?"

"I prefer the term realist." Collier said as he walked out into the cold Paris rain.

Once outside he pulled his phone out and started to search for a number. He still thought of it as dialing, but figured that this term would die out with him like so many others. He knew that he was something of an outdated prescence, even if he preferred to think of the things he loved as classic. He pressed the phone to his ear and waited for Alice to answer.

"Alice Liddell." She said as she answered.

"Alice." Collier answered back. "There is a French gangster by the name of Michel Ricco, probably somewhere in the Bahamas. I need him picked up."

"Any particular charge?"

"I think he's got something to do with this. He had some hit men kill Pujol before I could get there and then they tired to kill me and a British agent." He told her.

"Okay, he owns a house down there and his passport was checked there a couple of days ago. I'll have him here in a couple of hours."

"Okay." Collier then looked at his watch. "I'm going to see if these shooters know anything, and then I'll be back in the US."

"I'll be waiting." She said as she hung up.

It would be pointless to go into the discussion of the hitmen, as they were simply higherlings sent to do a job. It did interest Collier though that it was he and not Brisbane who was given as their target after killing Pujol. They didn't know why he was to be killed any more than they knew why Collier was to be killed though. It was just what Ricco wanted.

Tags:

Latest Month

July 2018
S M T W T F S
1234567
891011121314
15161718192021
22232425262728
293031    
Powered by LiveJournal.com
Designed by Tiffany Chow