Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: FOLD (10/08/15)
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TITLE: Room Service | Previous Challenge Entry
By Graham Keet
10/13/15 -
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Polanski often considered quitting the game, but since his mercenary work in Africa had dried up, he was at a loose end. Besides, the money was good.
For a moment he wondered what Der Alte had done to get his name onto a drug dealer’s hit list – but then that wasn’t his problem. Most of his ‘hits’ were on guys who themselves lived on the wrong side of the law; except that they riled someone with more clout than they had - then ‘bingo’, they became his next target.
Polanski entered the foyer of the Manhattan Plaza, looked around with a practiced eye, then made his way to the stairs. Avoid elevators, if possible, less chance of being seen. After checking that the corridor was empty, he rapped on twenty-one. “Room service.” He heard shuffling around inside, then the door opened. “Ah, Room Service. Come in, I’ve been expecting you.”
He was tall and thin, clean-shaven, hair greying at the temples; distinguished – a typical CEO of any big company. Could this be Der Alte? Polanski tried to picture him with long hair and a beard. “My name is Polanski and I’m looking for Franz der Alte,” he said. “Is this his suite?”
“As I said, come in,” the man smiled.
Making a mental note that the man was not carrying any weapon, nor was there any telltale bulge under his jacket, Polanski entered warily, his hand ready to draw the Glock, if necessary. “I’ve got business with Der Alte,” he said brusquely, “where is he?”
“He’ll be here in a few moments. My name is Frank Old. I’m an associate of Der Alte. But please have a seat … here, in this armchair, I’ll fix you a drink while we wait.”
Polanski sat down and watched as the other man walked briskly to the far side of the room, and opened a cabinet. He removed what looked like a TV remote, then stood to one side. “If you look carefully, Mr. Polanski, you will notice an automatic weapon secured onto the shelf of this cabinet, and it’s pointed directly at the center of the chair you’re sitting in. If I press the red button on this remote, you will experience a searing pain in your chest. Now I want you to remove the firearm you’re carrying behind your back. Very carefully, you don’t want my finger to slip.”
Polanski realized that he had fallen for a carefully set trap. He did as he was told and placed his Glock on the floor in front of him. “They always say ‘don’t shoot the messenger’, don’t they Mr. Polanski, but in your case I think we’ll make an exception.” He held the remote at arm’s length, and pointed it at the cabinet.
“No, wait, I’ve no beef with you,” Polanski could feel beads of sweat running down his forehead. “I was instructed to do business with Der Alte, not with you.”
“Do you know how difficult it is for a foreigner to do business in the United States, Mr. Polanski? If you think that there is no discrimination in America, think again. I was forced to change my name, and my appearance.”
“You mean you are …”
“Yes, I was Franz Jurgen Wolfgang der Alte, but now after a shave, a haircut and a change of name I’m a new man. The name Der Alte translates into English as ‘Old’. In case you’re wondering - I diverted a drug lord’s funds into my personal offshore account, hence the contract out on me. Your finding me is a minor inconvenience, but not for long.” He reached into his pocket and took out a business card, which he handed to Polanski.
Polanski took the card and read: F. OLD, Import and Export Consultant.
Frank Old pressed the red button on the remote.
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This is the only story I read this week that used the topic word this way. Very original and well thought out.
This story should place very high in the rankings this week.