“You merely go to the meeting and report when you will be ready to present.”
“So, I show up here in a month?”
Bob smiled. “Hardly.” He gave me the location and time of the next meeting and his card. I was currently about 80 miles east of my home. The next meeting was in a little town about 50 miles northwest. The meeting was in a diner at 2:00pm. I’ll bet we will be the only ones in the place. Our last piece of business was Bob handing me his card. “Introduce yourself as Bob.”
I was driving home trying to figure this all out. It was easy, then it was impossible. Someone of us paired up people at different points of this process. Meetings were held everywhere, apparently. All of us were sent to different cities and used false first names, no one knew anybody, not even where they lived. So, we could all come up with our idea of revenge and tell the group. But what then?
I can do what Bob or Bill did; undoubtedly, I will. But they tell me I’m not going to be asked to do something illegal, so I won’t be asked to maim anyone. It seemed today’s request involved looking at the books of some mystery company. Not illegal, but I couldn’t look at them or know what I saw if I did. There was a big piece missing.
++++++
Life could have been so different. In almost every way Chuck’s life had ended that night. He came home and found his wife in bed with some guy. She should have known better. Chuck’s business was drugs, sex, gambling, and assuring his “company” had no competition.
Mostly, he kept competition from growing by explaining consequences to would-be competitors. Sometimes, they required small demonstrations of his potential sincerity. Of course, other times he had to actually carry out the consequences. The nice part of that, no one needed a second lesson in consequences; the first being terminal.
Chuck could not believe his eyes. His stupid wife knew what he’d do, and now he was forced to do it. He reached for his gun but decided these two needed to be punished, first. He threw the man aside and hit his wife, knocking her unconscious. He turned his attention toward the naked gentleman scrambling to get up. He never made it.
Chuck was in the process of hitting, kicking, stomping, gouging, and otherwise destroying his wife’s lover. He was beyond angry, but “a true professional”; he was taking his time. Like a mouse caught by a cat, the lover was in for a long day — his last.
Chuck heard a gunshot behind him, felt a sharp pain, fell to his knees, and lost consciousness. He awoke in a hospital bed, hand cuffed to the side rail. He found he was charged with one count of murder and another of assault. By the time his wife recovered, shot him, called 911, and got a response, her lover had died from internal injuries.
Chuck was a very wealthy man. He got a great attorney, plead temporary insanity and got 7-10 years for involuntary manslaughter. He was a model prisoner and out in seven years. He was full of fury.
He did have a prenuptial agreement and his divorce cost him nothing but legal fees. He ruined the slut financially, killed her lover, and was very disappointed he’d not done more. He was warned that if anything happened to her, he’d end up in prison for life. He decided he’d forgo any further revenge, until he found an ironclad way to attain it.