Sleeping Dogs

Sleeping Dogs

The two men sat across from each other at the metal table. They were sitting in a small diner that neither of them had been. This place had been chosen for this very reason. It was neutral territory. It was on the side of the highway, miles away from anywhere. They looked at each other coolly. One was in a three-piece suit and looked extremely out of place. His pencil thin mustache lined the top of thick lips. His face was round with dark eyes set back into their sockets. His thick fingers laid on the table not far from a small white cup of black coffee. He had on a large gold pinky ring that made a metallic clang as he drummed his fingers along the table. His thinning black hair was combed straight back. Steam rose from the coffee the fatigued waitress had set in front of him some minutes before. His feet were arched in his expensive Italian loafers. They leaned against the side of the bench he was sitting on. He felt the weight on his toes keeping him from tapping his feet. He was both tired and wired. He couldn’t let the person he was sitting with know just how nervous he was. The rest of his boys were on their way and he needed to stall so the man sitting across from him wouldn’t disappear. He was the most deadly when you couldn’t see him. It’s why he was hired in the first place.

He reached into the black coat he was wearing and pulled out a small sliver flask. He unscrewed the top and took a nip from it. He withdrew the flask from his lips and poured a generous amount into his coffee cup. It was an exceptional aged Scotch. He knew it was a travesty to put such fine liquor in a simple container let alone in the cheap coffee in front of him. But he needed liquid courage now. The mixture in the cup swelled and stopped right before the top. He then offered it to the man in front of him who declined with a subtle shake of his head. He returned the cap to the top and tucked it back into the coat.

The other man in the booth looked like Hell. One eye was puffy, the skin around it discolored. He was wearing a blood stained T-shirt and ripped jeans. The shirt was black with a v-neck collar. He had bandages on various parts of his upper body. One particularly large one on the lower side of his neck. His fingers were littered with them. His lower lip was swollen. There was a large cut running down the side of his face. He felt slightly worse than he looked. He had a chance to look at himself earlier this afternoon in the motel room as he finished patching himself up. Everything looked neat and clean. Now some of the bandages were darkened with blood. Much like his shirt, some of it was his. A lot of it wasn’t. In his right hand was a clear glass of ice water. Keeping his eyes on Carlo, he removed a straw from its paper casing and punched it into the glass. He leaned down and took a couple of deep pulls from the cold water. Even though he believed it from a dirty tap in a kitchen sink, it tasted divine. He appraised Carlo, sitting in his monkey suit with his overpriced scotch. He could smell the stinging vapors wafting toward him from the bargain coffee that sat between them. He knew Carlo was nervous.

“Luther….” Carlo began, his deep voice containing a tinge of apprehension. It was like a feather had floated down into the middle of a large lake. The smallest ripple could be detected.


Luther raised his right hand to silence his employer. He gestured to the stinking coffee and took another pull from his water, making an exaggerated “AH” sound after he had swallowed.

Carlo’s face remained placid as he raised the cup to his lips. He took a drink and grimaced.The scald of the coffee coupled with the heat of the scotch broke his poker face. He swallowed hard and licked his lips, looking at Luther expectantly. Luther said nothing. The two men stared at each other for another couple of minutes and Carlo started again.

“Luther, what…”

Again, Luther’s hand came up and Carlo felt silent once more, this time with some annoyance.

Then, with a calm, light voice Luther asked him.

“Is it over?”

Carlo sighed deeply and took another quaff of coffee.

“No.” He said when he returned the cup back to its cracked saucer. “No one quits, Luther. You know this. After what you have done over the past few days, this ends one way. You atone for what you have done.” Annoyance and apprehension are gone now, replaced with a simple matter of fact tone.

Luther took another drink from the glass and looked over his shoulder to catch the eye of their server. The diner was largely deserted with a few people at various tables; all more concerned with their phones or reading than they were with anything else. When Luther had slowly walked in, he hadn’t drawn barely a sideways glance. He spotted her quickly, she was over at the counter speaking with someone in the kitchen. He kept his eyes on her and it was obvious she was trying not to look at him. He then raised his glass and finally she looked over. Her face was teeming with concern, her green eyes full of worry. He shook the glass slightly and she nodded. She made her way over to them and as she did so, Luther pulled a money clip from his back pocket. In it were 20s, 10s, 5s and ones. He removed a five dollar bill and laid it on the table top. She quickly snatched his glass up and didn’t even seem to notice the fiver. After she left, Luther turned back to Carlo.

“I just wanted out. That’s it. You’re the one that caused all of this.”

Carlo frowned and said

“I want to put it behind us. Come back to work. I drove out here as a sign of good faith, didn’t I?” His deep voice raised slightly at the end of the sentence. He looked expectantly at Luther who returned an expression full of derision. He sighed a little and pulled at the sleeve of his t-shirt.

“Carlo, this shirt was fresh out of the package not a couple of hours ago. You think I’d just drive up here? They are all dead. And if the rest show up, I’ll kill them too.” He said simply.

Carlo paused and took another drink of his coffee. He pulled out the flask again and emptied the reminder into the cup. He then shook it a little so that even the smallest drop splashed into the murky drink. He set the flask and cap on the table and looked back at Luther.


“Impossible. Even for you.” He said finally. The edge had returned to his voice. A big leaf had dropped into the pond this time.


“Difficult.” Luther replied. “Not impossible.”


The server came back and set Luther’s water down and plucked her pad from her apron.


“Don’t suppose y’all want anything?” She said.

Luther had noticed she had not taken out anything to write their order. Her brown hair was pulled back into pony tail. Her green eyes looked even more wary. She eyed Carlo’s coffee cup with suspicion. As if in response, he laid a crisp 100 dollar bill over Luther’s five. He looked up at her with a bright smile.


“Not at the moment, my dear. Your service has been above reproach and we’ll let you know if we want anything from your….” He paused here, his charm faltering. “delightful menu.” He finished, the smile had faded for an instant and then returned at full wattage.


The server looked between the two of them, Luther wearing a blank expression while Carlo grinned and began to look uneasy. She snatched the money off the table and walked away briskly. She stood by the counter again and said something just out of earshot. They turned back to each other. It was Luther that spoke first.


“Carlo, don’t do this. We can both walk out of here today. I’ll disappear. Tell everyone in the world you killed me. I don’t care. I’m done with all of this.”


Outside the diner, a large black SUV pulled into the dirt parking lot. It parked itself right beside the large sign by the road that welcomed drivers and potential customers to the The Bull’s Ring Diner. A picture of a massive black bull was painted on the sign. The SUV idled there, its windows tinted.


Carlo began to smile now. His fear and anger given way to an overt smugness at every word Luther said. He rasped back


“You caused all of this. We had the perfect partnership. I pointed, you killed. We both did what we are good at. You’re a dog that needs a cage, Luther. I thought I could let you roam around the yard but it looks like you’re forgetting who the master is. You think with your big jaws and nasty paws you can just walk out the gate without the master’s say so. Bad dogs get put down, Luther.”

Carlo took an exaggerated sip from his coffee cup and looked from Luther to the SUV.


“Now, I want you to apologize to me for all the trouble you’ve caused. I want you to really mean it. Then..” He lifted one hand and extended the large pinky with mammoth ring on it. “Kiss it, Luther. Kiss my ring.” He wiggled the digit at Luther who stared back at him. Luther suddenly looked exhausted.

“Carlo, one last chance. Get out of here and forget I ever existed. Please.” He said flatly.

Carlo’s little black eyes shined and he laughed. He started to get up.

“Always have to do things the hard way….” He said, still laughing.

The SUV exploded. The blast caused some of the diner windows to shatter. He heard screams and saw people diving behind the counter and under their table. Quick as a snake, Luther’s hand shot outing grabbed his pinky. Carlo’s eyes bugged in surprise.

The tired expression was gone. Luther’s eyes were an icy blue. Carlo saw nothing in them save determination. Luther said

“You’ll never make it out of here. You’ll be dead before you walk out that door. I gave you a chance. You should have taken it.”

On that last word, Luther snapped the pinky. Carlo felt a jolt of pain in his finger and Luther released him.  He shut his eyes and grabbed at his injured hand, swearing loudly. He opened his eyes to inspect the damage. Luther had broken it completely. The ring was now trapped on the bent, swelling pinky. When Carlo looked up, he was alone. People were still cowering under their tables. The diner staff had vanished. He looked out at the flaming SUV, the heat making the air around it shimmer.  He looked down and snatched up his coffee cup. He drained the rest of it in one go. He could feel the alcohol in his stomach and tried to concentrate on that as he made his way quickly to the front door. He never saw the bullet, nor really felt it enter and exit his skull. It had shot out one of his eyes. He briefly saw the world blur as he fell to the floor.