Having been in Chester Portland’s employ for nearly five days, Raul was still nervous about the shady figures that were intent on getting and harming him. He had been put up in a swanky hotel downtown, a place that cost so much that not one of those shady characters would expect him to be staying there. Of course, unbeknownst to him there were none of those characters looking for him, as little did he know his new boss Portland was in business with the elusive Aces McGhee, the key man who had been explained to Raul as the boss of the men out to get him. And who told him this tall tale? His new boss, Chester Portland. Simply put, the young Mexican was in far too deep, and he didn’t even know it.

Sitting idly by on a large comfortable chair, Raul nervously fidgeted by playing around with his fingers, keeping the room silent so he could listen for outside noises in case his enemies were approaching. Anytime there was the slightest bit of noise from outside the room, Diaz would breathe very quietly in anticipation of a break in, but every time it was just the maids passing by to do their cleaning.

The isolation and boredom was wearing on him, as for four days he had been holed up in this room with no interaction and being held back by his own refusal to switch on the television or listen to the radio.

“Come on Portland, give me something to do,” he muttered to himself.

The young Mexican was anxious to do something, anything, but still the hotel room telephone didn’t ring. Unfortunately he couldn’t ease his boredom by calling someone, as Portland had made sure the phone could not dial out, so only he could call him. Not to mention that Raul didn’t have any friends to call anyway, but that’s another story altogether.

Looking around the room, Raul could see that he was in luxury, yet he could not enjoy it. The bright red carpet was smooth on his feet, while the white painted walls were easy on the eye. The unused television was forty inches and the stereo system was top notch as well. The room did not have a mini bar though, it had a large refrigerator full of the usual expensive crap found in a mini bar, but on a much larger scale. Being in a swanky hotel meant he had more than just having the one room with a small bathroom though, he had the large room with the bed in it, a kitchen and dining area and a large bathroom for all his needs and desires. Not that he had any.

Suddenly the phone rang, which made the young Raul jump up in fright of the loud noise. He let the phone ring seven times before eventually lifting it from its hook and slowly bringing the piece to his ear and mouth.

“Hello?” he nervously queried.

“Raul, it’s Chester,” stated the voice on the end of the phone.

Despite only knowing Portland for a few days, Diaz had already given him his trust, and hearing his voice on the phone was a big relief to the frightened twenty-one year old.

“No one knows I’m here do they?”

“No one. The storm has settled down and now it’s time to change your appearance and get you ready for those high stakes cash games you’ll be playing for me,”

Relieved at having something to do, the Mexican was becoming less scared of his enemies. Well, the enemies that Portland has told him he has.

“Okay. I’ll be glad to get out of here,” he said, hiding his fear.

“Meet me outside, I’ll be in the black limo with tinted windows,”

Before Raul could respond, the phone had been hung up.

“I best get ready then,” he muttered as he placed the phone back on the hook.

Stumbling around in search of some clothing, Raul almost fell over the bed.

MEANWHILE

Outside the hotel in a black limousine with tinted windows, the six foot tall, strongly built Chester Portland sat. The forty-four year old was combing his brown hair back, as he looked, with his piercing bright blue eyes, at the man sat opposite him, who was hidden in the shadows of the large vehicle.

“Buy him the best suits. Make him feel wanted. Make him feel needed. Make sure that he wins a lot of money for us,”

Nodding his head, Portland had every intention of doing those things.

“Don’t worry Aces, he’s a damned good poker player. He had your men reeling,”

“My men do the job I tell them to do. They do their jobs well. Just like you do. And just like the kid will do. If anyone fails in their job, they won’t live to beg for their life. But you already know that, Chester,”

“Yes. So, where is the money for these suits and to get him into these games?” Portland asked.

The man in the shadows threw a brown envelope full of what must have been around fifty-thousand dollars into Chester’s lap.

“Speed up the process. There’s a game on Saturday, I want him there for that and I want him to remain scared of my men and I. The second he is no longer frightened, is the second we don’t need him,”

Putting his comb away, Portland watched as McGhee shuffled to the door, keeping his face hidden throughout, like an evil force is shielding his identity. He opened the door, but before stepping out, had one last thing to say.

“And Chester, make sure he knows nothing about what’s going to happen,”

With that said, he stepped out and slammed the door shut, walking away carefully, making sure to shield his face from anyone passing by.

Almost immediately after Aces left the limo, the other door opened and in stepped young Raul.

“Ready to go?” Raul beamed, excited to be leaving the hotel.

“Yes, I have the money with me, so lets gets you sorted,” replied Portland.

The engine started up, and soon the limousine was on its way.

WEDNESDAY 20TH FEBRUARY 1996 12:30pm

The black limousine pulled up outside of a very expensive looking store.

“Here’s five thousand dollars,” stated the smartly dressed Portland as he handed the cash to Raul.

Pocketing it quickly, so that no one could see it on him, Raul was nervous about carrying such a large amount of money on him.

“Go buy an expensive suit, and make sure it fits. There’s nothing worse than a badly fitted suit. Remember, this will be the suit you’ll be wearing at the poker table, so be certain it’s the one you want. You want it to be comfortable and durable because if you’re as good as I think you are, you’ll be at the tables for many hours raking the money in,” Portland informed the youngster.

Nodding his head, Diaz went to exit the vehicle, but was halted as he was half way out the door.

“I’ll meet you back here in an hour. Then I’ll get you ready for a game that’s taking place on Saturday,”

“Alright,” Raul muttered as he exited the car and slammed the door shut, before heading into the store.

The limousine was pulling away when Portland got on his cell phone.

“Yeah, he’s inside the store. Meet him in there and give him a scare, but keep his hands and face safe, anywhere else is fair game,” he remarked.

Putting his cell phone away, Chester soon placed the brown envelope with the remaining forty-five-thousand dollars in it, inside his jacket pocket, the money which should have gone towards buying Raul a suit or two. Instead the money was now his.

WEDNESDAY 20TH FEBRUARY 1996 1:15pm

Inside the store, Raul was half way through being fitted as an elderly gentleman measured the suit’s pants to see how much slack there would be for him.

“I should be able to get this done for you before the end of the day. Ready for collection and payment tomorrow,” the sixty year old balding man stated.

Grinning, Raul looked around the store, staring at all the expensive luxuries inside. From the thousand dollar boots, to the fifteen thousand dollar suits, even the five-hundred dollar socks, everything in this store was much more than he’d normally be able to afford.

“So, you must get a pretty good commission at a place like this,” Raul asked.

The man started to measure Diaz’s inside leg.

“It has its perks. But I’m certainly looking at retirement soon,”

The usually nervous and anxious youngster let out a loud laugh.

“Yeah, I suppose it’s like that with any job,” Raul responded.

Chuckling a little himself, the old man surprised Raul when he began to back away from him.

“What’s wrong? What did I say?” he asked.

Half dressed and in half a mind, he turned around to find three men in front of him. All three being from the original poker game, in which Diaz fled with eight-thousand dollars.

“Oh shit,” Raul muttered.

The men soon surrounded him, with the four-hundred pound Tiny blocking his path to the exit, the Elvis look-a-like to one side and the angry Irishman, Mickey flanking the other side.

“This oughtta be fun,” said Tiny.

Raul gulped, noticing that everyone else had fled the store, leaving no one in there willing or able to help him.

Trying to leap over the four-hundred pounder, Raul was caught in mid air and sent crashing to the store floor back first. Winded, he gasped for air, but had no chance to breathe before Elvis and Mickey began to kick away at his ribs and stomach, causing the youngster to roll along the floor in pain.

“Think you could take our money and get away with it kid?” Tiny yelled at him.

Signalling for Elvis and Mickey to drag Raul to his feet and hold him still, Tiny wound up and delivered a crushing punch to his mid section, causing Raul to keel over, but of course he couldn’t as Elvis and Mickey kept him standing.

“Nobody steals from us,” Tiny stated.

The large man walked up to Raul, and looked into his eyes, as he struggled to breathe because of all the body blows.

“I don’t like you, kid. But I have some good news, you’re not gonna have to witness my hatred for you for much longer. If you catch my drift,” he warned him.

Spitting in Raul’s face, Tiny took a step back before swinging his right hand forward, crashing into Raul’s left cheek with such a force that Elvis and Mickey could not keep hold of him and Raul fell hard to the floor, like a boxer getting knocked out in a fight.

“PICK HIM UP! I’M NOT DONE!” bellowed Tiny.

As they went to drag him to his feet, they were interrupted by a man coming through the store’s front door.

“You again? Why do you keep coming to his rescue?” Tiny asked him.

Removing his sunglasses to reveal his piercing bright blue eyes, Portland chose not to respond, instead he pulled a baseball bat out from his jacket, which promptly caused Elvis and Mickey to flee from pulling Raul back to his feet.

“Can’t we handle this like gentlemen?” pleaded Tiny, noticing that he was all alone.

Shaking his head, he slowly approached the larger man.

“But this isn’t fair,” he begged.

Barely conscious, Raul looked up to see Tiny try to run away, but the size of him made it a very futile attempt, and instead of escaping he faced a devastating blow to his humungous gut, making him keel over in agony.

“Puh-lease,” Tiny gasped loudly.

Again shaking his head, Chester kicked Tiny in the face, causing him to fall backwards, and in a quick motion he stomped the bat down onto both of his knees.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH,” Tiny screamed in pure agony.

With surely both of his kneecaps broken, Portland dropped the bat and pulled Raul up to his feet.

“Thanks,” Raul managed to muster a word.

Walking him carefully out of the store, Portland placed him in the black limousine and made a quick exit from the scene before any policeman would arrive.

WEDNESDAY 20TH FEBRUARY 1996 11:00pm

In the darkness of night, in an alleyway a mysterious man stayed hidden in the shadows, keeping his face closely guarded, so that no one could see who he was.

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT ACES?” shouted another man as he walked down the alley.

“That’s close enough,” the elusive Aces McGhee ordered.

Sure enough, the smartly dressed Chester Portland stopped dead in his tracks, but his anger was evident.

“I told you no punches to the face. But what did Tiny go and do? He went straight for the face. He’s barely conscious even now, Aces. I can’t see how he’ll be ready for Saturday, now,” Portland remarked.

Lighting up a cigarette, McGhee took a few drags before responding to his employee.

“Tiny messed up. So did you,” McGhee stated.

Standing still, Portland wasn’t happy with being told that.

“Well…”

Before Chester could finish talking, McGhee had stormed forward and grabbed hold of his throat, all the while shielding his face so that he still couldn’t be seen.

“I never gave you the order to break Tiny’s legs. You never go solo. I am in charge and the kid will play cards on Saturday, if he doesn’t, I will kill you. Is that understood?” McGhee threatened him in such a normal tone of voice, it was eerie.

Portland reluctantly nodded, and fortunately for him McGhee released his grip.

“I’ll get him ready then,”

Turning around to leave the alley, Portland walked away with another warning from Aces McGhee.

“Keep him frightened, keep him on edge, or everything goes wrong. Do not make me have to meet with you again,”

MEANWHILE

Back in the hotel room, much worse for wear than when he left earlier in the day, Raul actually seemed more upbeat than before.

“At least the beating is over with, and with Portland protecting me, I’ll always be safe,”

Unfortunately, the young Mexican would have no idea how wrong he was until it was too late.