Page 28 of The Titan and the Trainer

​5.​ He’d told me he likes me, and I believe he really does.

Some quick mental addition. He breathed a sigh of relief - it’s all good. It’s safe.

He grabbed his trench coat and at 6:45 p.m. he left. He checked that there was no sign of the car - no, not yet. He walked to the small bodega on the corner. He stood in front of the dusty wine rack for a while before settling on a $25 Malbec. It was the most expensive thing they had, so he hoped it was a nice wine. It felt a bit pathetic compared to what Julian probably drank, but he couldn't show up empty-handed, so he popped it in the gift bag with the picture. He was excited to see if Julian liked it.

He stepped back onto the sidewalk just as the black Mercedes SUV pulled up. It was the usual driver and Markus, gruff as usual, with a deep “Good evening, Mr. West” stepping quickly out to open the door for him.

Callum climbed into the back seat, the scent of expensive leather and silence engulfing him. The privacy screen was down as the car pulled away. Callum, a natural talker when he was nervous, tried to bridge the gap.

“Nice night, huh?” Callum said, clutching the gift bag.

Markus’s eyes met his in the rearview mirror. Cold. Professional. “Yes, sir.”

“So, how long have you worked for Julian?” Callum asked.

“Six years,” Markus replied. Again, curt.

“Six years is a long time. You must know him better than anyone, then. What's he like as a boss?”

“He's professional,” Markus said, his voice a flat line. “And so am I.” Markus didn’t press the button to put the screen up, but it was clear the discussion was over.

Markus was not to be drawn on whether Julian was a good guy or not; Callum already knew that anyway, but he just would have liked some independent feedback from someone who’d known him longer. No worries, he thought to himself.

He looked out at the Brooklyn streets, suddenly realising he was being driven into some high-security fortress by a guy who looked like he could snap a man’s neck without blinking. He didn't really know Julian Newman. He knew the scent of the man, the taste of his sweat and some other bodily fluids, his tender touch, and his belly laughter on a run-down broken mattress; but he was heading into the den of the Titan now. Who was he going to meet, he wondered, the man or the Titan?

What if he's a serial killer? The thought flashed through his brain. The perfect murder. Some tragic ‘male escort type drama’. The hidden penthouse. No one would ever find me. New headlines flashed before his eyes.

He pulled out his phone and tapped out a quick text to Sophia:-

Callum: Soph, if I don't text you by midnight, call the police. The address is 50 Peck Slip. Tell them to look for the guy in the black button-down shirt. Please try to find all my body parts so I can have an open casket. LOL x

Sophia replied a few minutes later:-

Sophia: LOL. If he kills you, can I finally have those special edition off-white Nikes of yours I’ve always wanted? Have fun, Romeo, but be CAREFUL! And don’t freak out! x

***

Dusk was setting in the Manhattan sky, a glorious palette of oranges, pinks and reds as the car slowed alongside what Callum assumed was the building. He could see a lobby, but to his surprise they sailed straight past it.

They turned at the side of the building where two large black gates were already open, to a ramp leading down. Ah, underground parking, Callum thought. But why didn’t they just drop me around the front?

The cars in the garage were something else, but then Callum reminded himself this was an exclusive area, and the building residents were all probably wealthy like Julian. He spied an Aston Martin, a very nice black Bugatti, but he couldn’t work out which model. There was a very smart black Jeep that definitely caught Callum’s eye. A deep red Mercedes and some others with covers over them, including some kind of limo judging by the length of it. Very nice, very posh, thought Callum. The people who live in these apartments aren’t poor. Yes, sure he had his driver’s licence and could drive but didn’t even own a car. Since he’d lived in the city, he just used public transport.

They drove straight through the car park to a set of doors at the rear where there was a tall guy in a black suit waiting for them. Before Callum could reach the door handle, Markus jumped out and opened it for him.

“The private elevator is right there,” Markus said, gesturing to one of the sleek chrome doors. “My colleague Dimitri will assist you.”

“Cheers, Markus, appreciate the lift, thank you.” Callum said. Markus nodded.

“Mr. West,” came a voice from behind him. “If you could just put your thumbprint on this sensor pad, we can get you into the building”.

There was a small white control pad by the door, about the size of a pack of playing cards. There was a code number at the top, but nothing showing on the bright blue screen.

Wow, thought Callum, this is rather complicated.

He stepped forward and complied, pressing his thumb firmly onto the panel.

A white horizontal line appeared and moved up, scanning his thumbprint, followed by a bleep and a green tick in a circular box with the message ‘Scan Complete’.