31) Knife Play

Fernando was the best at this game. Rolling the hilt of the knife over and under his palm while his prey sat across the table from him. It was a simple game he invented for just these special occasions. The rules were simple. His prey had to close their eyes and guess when the knife was in his palm. They got one guess. If they got it right, they would be given the knife to roll around. If they were wrong, they died. If they didn’t close their eyes, they died. If they dropped the knife, they died. Fernando had never lost.

During the times Fernando wasn’t slicing and dicing, he ran a drugs cartel from Mexico to America. Most of his prey were fools who thought they could outsmart him. They always ended up in front of him. Sometimes, if Fernando was really lucky, he landed a big fish; CIA or FBI operative trying to bust his business wide open. Fernando didn’t like that one bit.

In the seat opposite was one of these hotshot agents, glasses snapped in two resting on his nose. He was a kid, far younger than him, far less experienced. Fernando rolled the knife over in his hand. The rules of the game were already explained to him. The agent took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

Fernando barely rolled it over the back of his hand once when the agent called it. It was in his palm. It was best to call it early before losing track of the rhythm of the knife. Fair was fair. He gave the agent the knife and closed his eyes. Fernando also called it early. He opened his eyes and saw the knife was flat on the back of the agent’s hand.

Fernando revealed his yellow teeth. The agent rolled the knife into his palm and lurched forward to stab. The chains around his mid rift held him back. Fernando laughed. The hidden rule of the game was Fernando’s favourite. Always bring a gun to a knife fight.