What Autumn Took Away

It was a cold day, and fall was starting to tint the leaves brown, painting a warm picture, as chimneys vented black smoke and the sewers drew white lines in the cold, autumn days. James was preparing to close off his coffee shop, when he was approached by two men. They were dressed in charcoal suits, with long coats and fedoras that hid any facial feature above the lips. One of them looked old, about 40 or 45. The other one however, looked much younger. 'A novice?' thought James. He knew why they were here, there was no point in resisting.

The men came into the local, and James asked them to sit down.

“What can I get you, gentlemen?” he said, as he polished a glass cup with a rag.

“We’ll take two coffees. Black, no sugar.” said the younger looking man.

James slowly placed the cup on the drying rack and made his way to the coffee machine.

“Heard” he answered, starting the machine.

“You know why we’re here don’t you” said the older looking man, fidgeting with a ring he had on his right hand’s index finger.

James didn’t answer right away, he took some seconds to process it. So I was right huh. Then, he brought the two men their coffees and walked towards the front door, turning the little sign that read “Closed”.

“I’m afraid I do, gentlemen” he said calmly as he walked towards their table.

At this, the younger of the two men stood up and reached for the inside of his long coat, with a heavy object clutched in his hand. A gun.

“Don’t try anything stupid, old man” he said. His voice sounded confident, but James could see the shake in his hand. The older man then pulled his partner down, seating him on the seat.

“He won’t do anything, relax”

“Before you leave, can I ask you something?” said Nick, taking a seat directly in front of the old man.

“Sure.”

“Keep my family out of this. I owe Gecko, not them.” James' eyes oozed with and unwavering confidence.

The old man looked into Jame’s assertive eyes for a few seconds before standing up and adjusting his fedora. The younger man stared at Jame’s eyes and was visibly nervous due to his strong presence. It took him a few seconds to react to the older man’s orders.

“Let’s go out back, it’ll be quick”

“Promise me”

The old man stood there and repeated, more assertively.

“Let’s go, James”

James stood up and accompanied the two men to the kitchen, where a backdoor gave access to a narrow alley.

The older man took out a large cigar out of a leather case, where he had three left to enjoy before it needed refilling. The younger man imitated him and then walked, without taking his eye off James, towards a trash container, where he leaned and waited for it to be over.

“Get on your knees, I’ll make it quick” said the old man

“Before we do, can I know your name?”

“Tony, Tony Simone.”

James got on his knees and Tony pulled from under his coat a large, silver 1911 A1 .45 ACP, cocked it and placed the barrel gently on Jame’s forehead. Despite having a gun to his head, James never lost his intense stare, looking death in the eye and not flinching in the slightest.

“Any last words, brother?” Tony had taken a liking to James. He was a good man, but good men sometimes make the worst enemies.

“Promise me, Tony.”

“I can’t-”

“Promise me!” James yelled, making the young hitman in the background flinch and drop his cigarette. He stared at Tony, and his face turned defiant and hostile, even with a gun to his head he was going to protect his family. No matter the cost

Tony took a second and looked at the man he was about to kill in his eyes and, for the first time, felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time. He respected James.

“I promise.”

Jame's tense body relaxed and, to Tony’s surprise, a smile was drawn on his face. It was a smile of relief, his work was done. The man in the background started towards the old man, and once he was on his side, he pulled out a dethorned rose from his coat pocket. Tony’s face didn’t change, but his heart quaked for a fraction of a second. A silent tear started sliding down Tony’s cheeks.

It was done quickly, one shot in the middle of the head, destroying the brain and killing James instantly. When police arrived, all they could find was a cigar in Jame’s shirt pocket and a rose across his chest, the signature decoration for a Sphynx hit. The perpetrators were never found.