The Brains Behind the Macho Men

Eric Davidson would never allow money slip through his fingers, especially when the money rolled into six zeros.

Source
He drummed lightly on the wooden desk which he sat at, running several ideas of how he could have this ten million for himself and not get busted for it.

He was the brains of the macho gang. Where every other person was brute and muscle, he was brain and finesse, working not with fists and guns but with his brain and looks.

The corners of his lips lifted as he spied his reflection in the blank screen of his laptop, grinning at the blonde haired man staring back at him with pale, blue eyes.

He used to be one pathetic loser who his stepfather tossed out of the house simply because he lost a three hundred thousand dollar deal, he could remember those days when he used to search earnestly for scraps from the dustbin, until those macho guys found him. He never thought there would be compassion hidden within those bulky chests.

When they were busy hitting at punching bags, he was busy clicking away at laptops, looking for ways that the money from their illegal cocaine trade would not be sniffed out by the IMF.

And these guys harvested cash in millions.

The leader, El Paso, one of the most meek guys Eric had ever met, had an entire estate to himself. There was no one else residing there except for his family. Eric wasn't there yet but he was eating the scraps of the master's plate, and this master was definitely a generous one.

He was still racking his head around how he was going to deal with the Italians and the new ammunition deal they were proposing when his phone began to vibrate. It was a private number but he took it. The caller was a persistent one.

“Eric Davidson” it was a feminine voice. He relaxed himself into the leather chair he was sitting in and waited for her to introduce herself. “I cannot say how long I have waited to speak to the brains behind the macho men but well, I can say this” she gave a dramatic pause. Eric wasn't in the least interested in what the lady was saying. He got random calls from time to time, especially from clients, so this one wasn't anything special. “You are good” she finished and chuckled at her own joke.

Eric wanted to set the phone down and allow her babble on while he put his brain to good use but for some reason, he held the phone clutched in his fingers, refusing to set it down and go back to work in his head.

“I just didn't think you would stay silent on me after ALL this while but okay, if that's how you want to play” she crooned, “Anyway, I'm calling regarding a document I am looking at right NOW, and it says the macho men; their entire secrets and operations, and interestingly, your name appears last on the list and beside it, one word which I suppose is your title; Brains”

Eric gritted his teeth. Who would have been stupid Enough to speak with the authorities to give them such level of information about their operations? He needed to call El Paso straight away.

“Now darling, before you think of doing something as foolish as contacting your leader, El Paso, who I currently have a .45 aimed at, I would rather sit down and strategize with that smart brain of mine, how to get out of this mess. Alive.”

“Who the hell are you?” He asked after managing to shut his mouth which had been held open throughout her speech.

“It's a good thing to know you haven't lost your sense of speech. I'll be seeing you”

Trepidation seized Eric and for several minutes he could hardly even breathe properly. It took El Paso’s call to revive him from his partial paralysis.

“El Paso”

“Eric. I need you to dispose of all your gadgets immediately no matter how precious, and meet me at the bunk in ten minutes”

Eric didn't need further conviction. He knew how the drill went. Once they were discovered, they went off the radar and disappeared until they could come out again to continue their transactions. The bunk held coffins of cash they had stashed over time from New York and if El Paso asked to meet there, it meant the other macho guys were also on their way.

He grabbed every single thing useful to him and took the keys to his Red Bentley. That lady could go to hell with her discovery, after that night she would never get to hear of Eric Davidson again. He already had the name for his Next identity prepared; Richard Douglas.