Sweet Destiny

Runaway

Winston's PoV

Today is the day that I escape this hellhole and start exacting my revenge. They say some things are priceless but in this world of sin, everything and everyone has a price.

The wait is over, the plan is set in motion and my fingers are twitching to mete out my punishment.

The last few months have been a living hell. I've been taunted, jeered, fucked and beaten mercilessly by men who were paid to kill me.

Who's responsible? My "friend" and once trusted business partner Paul Bradford. To liquidate the business he needs me dead, that way all the profits and shares go to him.

What he didn't bank on was that I would be resilient on the inside and use my wit to survive. That is how I talked Jerome and Arnold out of puncturing my lungs with a sharpened spoon.

Money really makes the world go round I tell ya. 

The hallways are empty, eerily quiet and pitch black. Lights out was an hour ago and everyone is knocked out except for Robert and I.

The cook spiked the food for only a thousand dollars while the guards in the surveillance room each got 2000 dollars to chip the video feed.

Robert's people have already intercepted the guards who were scheduled for the night shift. It's amazing what services are available on the black market these days.

A vendor was able to create perfect silicone replicas of the guards faces, even I couldn't tell the  difference.

Three raps on the cell door cause Robert and I to bolt from our beds. He raps twice then three times and as we listen, a key turns in the lock.

A small  smile creases my face, as Robert slaps my back and laughs haughtily.

"Vàmanos my friend." He chuckles and steps outside the cell.

Ramos hands us both guard uniforms with our masks to change while he drags Norman and Barry inside the cell.

Robert shines his flashlight on them and the scene before me is horrendous. Their throats were slashed with what I presume to be a jagged blade or object.

"What the fuck man, this wasn't part of the deal!" I whisper yell, pointing at them.

Ramos hisses his teeth and proceeds to kick Barry's head. "It was either them or me cabron. They got suspicious."

Feeling defeated, I quickly exit the cell with them in tow. Robert is hot on my heels, "Life is unpredictable..." He grabs my shoulder, squeezing it for emphasis, "You're here one second and gone the next."

I want to shut the manic fucker up permanently but that will have to wait until we're free. "I'm fully aware Robert." I remove his sweaty hand, "Let's get the fuck out of here, shall we?"

He grins and skips off as Ramos buzzes the door. Taking a left, we head to the guard room and retrieve the duffel bags with the guns inside.

Always be prepared, can't bring a knife to a gun fight  incase shit goes haywire tonight. Taking the staff elevator, we head to the parking garage where the black Toyota Sedan lays waiting.

Robert takes the front seat while Ramos gets behind the wheel. Opening the backdoor, I quickly retrieve my gun, check the clip and bullets  before reloading.

As we're about to drive off, another guard pulls up eating a hotdog.

"I thought you guys left already." He says while stuffing his face like a pig.

Robert snickers before replying, "Nah, Raegan has food poisoning so we waited to give him a ride home."

I clutch my stomach and start groaning  immediately, to make it more believable.

The fat fucker licks the ketchup from his beefy fingers, " Damn man." He burps loudly, "Feel better soon ."

Ramos doesn't waste another minute before he drives off towards the main gate. The guard is busy talking on the phone so Ramos honks the horn impatiently.

Instead of following protocol, the motherfucker simply flips us the bird and buzzes the gate. Ramos floors the pedal and we exit the prison gate leaving a trail of dust behind us.

We're driving for another hour before Ramos pulls off the road in a secluded spot. My heart is hammering in my chest as I watch him remove the safety from his gun.

"Why are we stopping here?" I ask casually while eyeing both of them carefully.

Ramos clears his throat while looking around, as if he's searching for something in the greenery ahead of us.

"New transport should be here." He dials  a number on his phone, "But I don't trust these motherfuckers."

Robert scoffs, "Cut the bullshit out Ramos!" He shouts angrily and exits the vehicle. He whistles loudly and astoundingly, a section of the shrubs opens to reveal a white pick up truck.

Two men alight from the vehicle with duffle bags in tow. They approach Robert and dab him before he turns and signals us to exit the car.

We do so slowly and approach the trio cautiously. "This my friends, is our personal ATM for the next few days." He points at me, a sly grin etching his face.

Both men chuckle but remain silent so I respond. "Let's get the fuck out of here man. Leave the introductions for later."

As we enter the pick up, I realise there's a Ford behind it. The two men approach the Sedan and lace it gasoline before flicking a match inside, setting it ablaze. 

My duffel bag has cash inside from my money launderer, I toss them two hundred stacks each. As we pull out unto the main road, they follow us for about 10 miles before we divert unto a backroad.

My trusted driver Miles is waiting at an unmarked airstrip to transport us to Mexico. The road is deserted and for once in 2 years, I exhale and relax visibly.

"Cabron, you still doubt me?" Robert smiles cockily at me.

I avert my gaze to look outside but I roll my eyes in annoyance. "Oh no, you've kept your end of the deal and now it's my turn."

Robert and Ramos start celebrating, outlining plans to spend their cut of the money.

Such a pity they won't live to enjoy it.

We arrive at the airstrip 30 minutes later and see a light aircraft waiting. Miles approaches us with a wide smile, "Good to see you again boss." He nods at the two imbeciles who are doing a victory dance.

"Kill them." I whisper before heading up the steps.

Miles quickly draws his Beretta and shoots both men in the head. Moisture splashes my face, and as I swipe my hand across my mouth, I realise that a bit of brain matter was on me.

"For fucks sake Miles, why does it always have to be the head!" I grunt but he laughs in response.

"Sorry boss, they won't be needing their brains anyway." With that said, he fires 2 more shots to their hearts then douses them with gasoline. He pours acid unto their faces, the pungent scent causes me to gag so I step away.

Miles lights his cigarette, takes a few puffs before tossing it unto the interlaced bodies.  Once they're burnt to a crisp, he calls the clean up crew and we board the plane.

Captain Hernandez greets me with a wet rag and a glass of Moet. I take the rag immediately to clean my face off.

"Welcome home boss!"

Home.

That word is now foreign to me as I'm now a fugitive with no abiding city.

One thing is certain, Paul and Monica will regret double crossing me.

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