Work Text:
This wasn’t the first time Hank has been tied up in the back of a car, but he was significantly more concerned than usual.
The road was bumpy and each shudder sent him up into the air, then down with a jolt, smacking his head against the floor of the trunk. The short cut mat scraped at his face and hands. He could probably break the zip tie if he had a little more room, but he knew it’s best to cooperate.
Last time, nobody had bothered with this elaborate kidnapping, they’d just come right to his house, knocked on the door, found him trying to quietly escape through a back window and dragged him into the game room, beaten him half to death with a pool cue. He’d respected the show, the personality of it, theblood that he tried his best to clean and that the real estate agent didn’t even notice on his walkthrough. Sell the house, grab the cash, he had shaken hands with the same man who had swung the cue over and over and the only thing he had said was a quick nod and a pleasure doing business with you.
The car was slowing, turning. Hank tried to stretch but he was getting too big for these trunks. When he was a good deal younger he knew all sorts of tricks- punch out the taillight, break the zip tie, safety latches and dna evidence. Helpful shit when some drunks decided you were the reason for their problems.
By now he had lived long enough to recognize the work of professionals, and by now he knew there was a point for him to cash his chips and accept that he might not be able to squirm his way out of this one.
The car pulled smoothly to a halt. When they opened the trunk they pulled the sack off of his face and Hank could look around him. Dead of night, so they hadn’t been driving for too long. He blinked as his eyes took a second to adjust to the dark, he looked at the man who was watching him.
“Looks like the Black Cat himself finally ran out of luck.” Said the Osprey, watching as his men grabbed Hank under the arms and hauled him up with no small amount of difficulty.
Hank had once heard that ospreys had a 0.01 rate of failure to get their prey. The man in front of him was somehow more accurate and Hank knew that it’d catch up with him eventually.
“Jude.” Hank said. For the first time in a while he realized how gritty his voice was, choked with age like a cloud of smoke. Was he old news by now? His casino certainly was, but in his line of work growing old was a rare success. Don’t get cocky, sell what you own, find a guy who knows a guy who can help you disappear, spend the rest of your life in some tropical beach located between here and there and die in the sun with a smile on your face. As retirement plans go, it’s not too bad, but only if you don’t wait too long. Don’t get cocky.
When Hank gets out of here, he’s going to buy a plane ticket and see if he can outrun the man staring him down.
“What’ve you got my arms tied for, Jude?” He asks. “Give an old man some dignity.”
The Osprey flicks his hands and one of the men cuts his hands free. “Nonsense, Hank, you’re in the prime of your life.” He grinned. “If you’re old, that means I’m old.”
They both laughed. Hank looked behind him and noticed the carpark they were on, extended high into the air, high up enough that he could see the buildings reaching up like glowing claw marks into the starry night sky.
The Osprey noticed his gaze straying and his smile fell to something more resigned.
“We can talk about this.” Hank said, brushing off his suit and flattening a wrinkle. “I can get you your money, I just need a bit more time and-”
“Oh Hanker. When are you gonna stop lying to yourself?” Jude asked. “Or are you lying to me? Do you really believe you can get me three quarters of a million dollars in a few weeks?”
Hank feels the barrel of a gun pressed into the small of his back.
“I swear I can.” Hank says, shifting his weight and not looking behind him. He knows Pool Cue will be there and he doesn’t want to look at that face right now. “I can sell more things. I still have a-” he takes too long thinking, he knows, shit, he needs to talk- “a set of glasses, real rare, collectors item yknow? If I sell them I’ll get-”
“Nothing you haven’t already tried.” Jude exhales. “What, do you want me to let you go back, let you pack up and plan and take the next plane out to wherever?”
Well, he got him there. “If you know I don’t have the money, then why am I here?” Hank hissed.
“To make a point.” Jude flicked his hand again and a few seconds later a drink was pressed into Hank’s hand. Beer from one of the breweries that the Osprey owned now, the one who’s owner had died so suddenly, so young, who Hank had met once when they bet on the same losing horse.
Point made. Hank cracked open the can and drank a long draught, taking his time before swallowing and exhaling. Jude sipped and watched him. The hard metal pressed into his back once again. He could feel the coldness of it.
“Look, Hank, I’m gonna be sad to see you go.” Jude said. “I mean, I like you, yknow? Respected you and when you came to borrow, said you were opening up your own casino, guaranteed money, I trusted you. And when you came back a week later, told me it was gone, said you just needed a bit more, I gave you more no questions asked.”
“Jude…”
“And when I started seeing signs of success, when I came to collect, when you started getting a bit more loose with your payments, I kept my reminders pretty friendly, yeah?”
Hank rubbed his arm, right on the scar where he now knew what a compound fracture looked like. “Yeah.”
“And I tossed your name around a bit. Was proud of you. My new little businessman, look at him, look how successful he is, I invested in this. I pulled open the curtain.”
Hank didn’t say a word, just stared at him, took another sip of the beer in sorry hopes that a 7% alcohol content could possibly get him drunk.
“Now how old are you, sixty five? Living in a rundown bar, no family, no friends left. It’s embarrassing.”
“You think a family could save me, Jude?” Hank laughed. Maybe it was the adrenaline finally making it’s way up through his veins or maybe the beer had a bit more kick than what it said on the can but the thought tickled him.
“Coulda stopped you from gambling my generosity away.” The Osprey sighed, smiled, motioned to the end of the car park, stepped out of the way. Hank nearly spilled his drink as the man with the gun buried it right between his shoulder blades, forcing him to stumble forwards until his feet were inches away from the edge. He looked down and felt his fingers and toes tremble with vertigo, stomach queasy. He felt the wind whip his face and chill the tip of his nose as he turned back.
Bad luck, that’s all it was. Something to be expected when you called your casino the Black Cat Parlor. A little tongue in cheek humor that didn’t hit the same when you were staring down the wrong end of a two hundred foot drop.
“Anyways, I respect you, Hank.” The Osprey said, taking the gun from Pool Cue and making sure it was loaded. Could Hankrun? No, not far, not for long, and then what would he be? Just another drunk stumbling hopelessly away from his problems. “I thought I’d give you the choice to jump. A little dignity, you know? See if cats really do land on their feet.”
Hank stared at him, blinking once slowly. The wind was so loud in his ears. He supposed this was it. A lot of moments before had felt like they were going to be it- a lot of fear, a lot of adrenaline, a lot of times tied up in the back of a car, but nothing so final as this. Could he land on his feet? Not this time.
Hank held up one hand slowly, asking for just another second of time, then brought the can to his lips and drained it. For a second the only sound was the rushing of the wind and his breaths as he gulped the beer like it was his last.
When he finished, exhaled, wiped his mouth, he found the whole situation a bit lighter. “Jude, don’t you know if you kill yourself you don’t get into heaven?”
The two of them laughed so hard that Hank almost didn’t feel the bullet entering his stomach, pushing him back, the rush of falling. If he had wings he would have spread them and flown away, away, away.
As it was, the first responders said he was dead the second he hit the ground.