"Do you zink 'ee will wet 'imself?"

"I sure fuckin' hope so, so I do. Otherwise, we both know it'll be me putting the meat hooks through his thumbs. I'd rather not, I'm wearing a brand new suit."

Cantona chuckled and shook his head in weary admiration of the callous acts of brutality his number two man could carry out. Even as a butcher who'd exacted his trade on many a human victim, the Godfather was still occasionally in awe of the things Brendan was capable of. Hopefully that wouldn't be necessary today thought the Frenchman as he turned his collar against the cold and damp air of the warehouse.

"How long can he have in there?"

The query from Brendan interrupted his reverie and Cantona retrieved his fobwatch to check the time.

"Hmm. Another 10 minutes and you will be able to snap 'ees fingers off like so many twigs. Anyzink more, you risk 'eepothermia. 'Ee is not a strong man, get 'im out now."

Brendan nodded brusquely and motioned to two enforcers nearby. Cantona stepped back so the shadows of the dark warehouse swallowed him entirely. It would not do to have some lowlife in a position to testify against him, so he stayed hidden. As he busied himself rearranging his cuffs and tie; Brendan and the two enforcers threw all their weight against the heavy steel door of the meat freezer. As soon as the gap was wide enough, one of the men darted in and grabbed a wretched, hunched figure; still violently shaking after his third stint in the sub-zero container.

"I don't have all day, you degenerate motherfucker!" Brendan's fierce yelling echoed in the silence and the man, for all his shaking, visibly recoiled against it. "This can't last! Soon, I'll just have to leave you in there long enough till the frostbite takes hold. Or maybe I could just pour some warm water on you so your skin blisters and falls away from your bones!"

"NO!" The man's yell was strangled and panicky "I don't have it, I don't know what you want me to say!"

"90 grand you lousy turd, 90 grand! I don't give a shit if you don't have it; what I want to hear you say is 'Oh Brendan, I have a way to get it for you'. Do you think your life is worth 90k?!"

The man was sobbing now. Not heaving sobs but the quiet, pathetic sobs of a broken man. He was so cold that the tears running down his face felt like boiling water.

"I don't know what you want me to say! I have no money and my wife ha no savings, we're already on a 2nd mortgage! I'm a senior partner...but a law firm doesn't have cash holdings like a bank or an insurer!"

The understanding between Brendan and Cantona was almost telepathic. As Cantona was processing the information, Brendan was bundling the man back into the freezer; not for further punishment but because the door was soundproof.

"This could be the break we've been looking for, Boss. The ownership of the horsetrack out in Cicero could be our biggest money maker if we had control of a law firm to protect it; and Phil's import business needs legal muscle like nobody's business, so it does!"

"Yes, yes. But we need to make sure zis man stays loyal, or at least silent. Tell 'im we wipe 'is debts. Tell him he stays at 'is firm as a partner - but only in name! We will let 'im earn a good living, much better than 'ee has now; but our own man will be ze silent partner, ze man in control. You talk to zis guy now, I will 'ead back to Le Brise and speak to our man."

"Who's going to take charge, Boss?"

There was no hesitation or doubt before Cantona replied; he knew of a man who had earned the responsibility and the improvement in lifestyle and standing.
 

"Helix"

Fidgeting nervously with my hands, the ideas of why I am here at this table with God Father Cantona, run through my head at an insanely fast pace. To make things even worse, none of the ideas running through my head were good. Feverishly trying to remember anything I had done wrong, Cantona clears his throat and begins to speak.

“So, ‘elix, I ‘ave brought you ‘ere to discuss something of the utmost importance.”, says Cantona with a heavy expression being worn on his face.

Observing his frown, I make a loud gulp as a droplet of sweat falls down from my brow.

“Oui, me and Brendan ‘ave decided on something important, and it concerns you, Monsieur ‘elix.”

After Cantona finished this sentence, Brendan leaves the shadowed corner of the room, walks behind myself and slaps his hand on my right shoulder.

“I…..I…...I can explain, Godfather Cantona. Whatever I have done I can expla……”

Before I could finish the sentence, Cantona shakes his head and shushes me. His face is expressionless as Brendan’s grip on my shoulder tightens. After what feels like an eternity of silence, a smile erupts from Cantona’s mouth, followed by a hearty laugh by both Brendan, and Cantona. With a bemused look on my face, I look around to see Brendan smiling and pointing at me.

“We got you worried there for a second, didn’t we, fella??”, said Brandon as he chuckled

Nodding my head in a bemused manner, I mimic the grins on both of their faces as I wipe the sweat from my brow.

After a lengthy discussion with both men regarding the progress of West Side, Chicago, and my involvement with these future plans, a real smile had escaped from my mouth. The best news that had happened to me since I was taken in by Cantona and given a meaningful role within his family and district. Grabbing three shot glasses, and a bottle of the 1922 single malt whiskey, I fill them up and push a shot glass each to Cantona and Brendan.

“Salute, my brothers! Salute!”