Two rivals in a football team send thugs to each other and meet at the same time
Peter aka “Pedro” glared across the room at Frank aka “France” with withering hate. As if He could sense it, France flipped a middle finger over his shoulder without turning, then, throwing a silent glare of his own across the room back at him spat in in is direction. Seeing this, Pedro stopped and stared him down but said nothing. Neither of them said anything to each other.
They were both past the point of throwing verbal insults. Like it was just that bad, but it was just as well. They had both been given their last warning by the manager. Any more infighting and disruption of club activities as and they were both out. But it was impossible for the 2 to communicate, so they just glared silently.
Pedro, was the veteran player and formally the ace, before the new owner. France, was the “new” ace. France’s uncle had bought the club and as his favorite nephew, France was naturally the ace. That meant that the old ace, Pedro, had to shut up and swallow (in an ideal world). But Pedro wouldn’t heel. And so now, here was a situation where a deserving veteran had is prized spot unfairly given to an idiot with big boy complex who wanted to have all the say in the club despite being the amateur. And a spoiled rich kid who couldn’t handle everyone not playing ball and groveling.
To be honest everyone hated France. But they were at least tactful about it. Nobody wanted to get in the new boss’ crosshairs. It drove France crazy that Pedro didn’t do the same. Would have had him fired too, but Pedro was the best player in the club. The manager sympathized with Pedro, but his hands were tied.
They were both fed up with each other, but there was no way within the system for them to get what they wanted. All that remained was for them to solve it for themselves. Pedro knew people who knew people and he met with a gangster by the name of Mwas and arranged a nice, crippling accident for France.
France on the other hand, after complaining in his big boys club, full of brats like himself, got a number off of one of them for a thug by the name of Dingo to take care of his problems. The date it was supposed to go down?
Over the upcoming long weekend at coasto.
It would look like a night of partying and drinking gone wrong. Pedro relished the thought. It had swallowed up half his life savings to arrange but it would be worth it. France had a satisfied grin on his face the whole time they were in transit on the plane. Money always solved everything. He loved being rich.
This is why, when the black bags came off their heads and they were stuck staring at each other, both of them were dumbstruck. Everything ached. They took in each other’s battered appearances, all the while, minding their own pains.
What had happened?! What was going on!? Why were they here?!
They both had their hands tied behind their back and they were seated carelessly on a dingy grimy wet floor in an unfinished building. It was pitch black with the only light originating from a single paraffin lantern that continuously threatened to go out.
It was freezing!!!!
France was the first to break his silence.
“Eeeh!…whats going on here?” He meant to sound authoritative, but his voice cracked at the ominous shadows in periphery of the circle of light they were both in.
“Nyamaza! Mavi hii!!!” A harsh voice. “Nani alikuasema unaeza fungua mdomo hapa?!”
“Iiiiii….mmmm-mmmsiniumize..” France sounded like a little girl. At this Pedro, who had been quietly surveying the situation, chortled. Being in this situation was almost worth it just for this sight. But the moment this happened, they were both greeted with a hot slap that shut them both up again.
“Manacheka nini? K*ma hizi!!! Hamjatosheka na kichapo mshapata? Mngejua chenye tumepewa kuwalainisha, mngejua hamjui.” One of the captors spoke. Pedro perked up at that voice…
“Mwas…?!” He said, incredulous, “ Ni wewe? Mbona niko hapa…? Nilikulipa uchukue hii fala peke yake..” He said. At this France looked up at him inshocked disbelief.
“Pedro, you set me up? “ France sobbed in his babi voice, disbelief evident “How dare you?” Pedro ignored him. Just what was going on here?
“Eeeh, ni mimi… usishike grudge lakini, ni kamaaa….kuna conflict of interest hapa, “ He said finally coming into the light. He was grinning as if he was talking to a friend. Pedro looked at him in blank disbelief.
“What do you mean?” He asked, thoroughly confused. He had paid good money for a service. What conflict of interest was he talking about? Mwas looked at him and sighed, pity in his eyes. He turned and mumbled something to a person behind him, and after some movement, some other guy came into the light. The moment he did, a squeal akin to a pig escaped France. I was so sudden that both Pedro and Mwas almost jumped out of his skin. This new face broke into a hearty laughter, even though the warmth didn’t reach his eyes.
“Dingo!!!!” France exclaimed. “ Dingo, what is happening?” He asked. The said dingo also grinned and spoke.
“Ni venye umesikia. Hii imekua conflict of interest. “ He said. Pedro looked back and forth between the 3 people before him. What the hell was going on here?!? What was the conn-
It hit him like a bolt of lightning. ‘Oh sh**’
To think that something like this would happen….! Pedro’s head drooped in shock. Neither Mwas nor Dingo tried to explain themselves. The full realization came much slower to France.
“Don’t tell me…You two are in the same gang…?!!!” He voiced the common sentiment. Mwas and Dingo nodded. So what did this mean exactly??
“Mnataka nini Bas?! Mtafanyaje?!??” Pedro asked, as a cold sweat broke out over his body. If things were going the way he thought they were he was in deep water. Mwas looked at him intently before saying it straight.
“Acha tuseme, kama waswahli husema ,’mkono mtupu haurambwi’.” Mwas said. And at that Mwas knew his fate was sealed. “Lakini, ukiongezea, hatutakuumiza saaaana.” Mwas continued.
When Pedro next woke up, he was in a strange room, surrounded by machines. It took him a moment to realize that he was in a hospital. A moment later, a face appeared above him. It was Cynthia, is sister. Her face was a n ashy mess and her eyes red and bloodshot. Clearly she had been crying. Even now, her eyes were wet as the waterworks started back up.
“Aki Peter-….” She said, her voice cracking. He blinked and tried to say something, but his couldn’t. His throat felt dry constricted and it hurt to swallow. All that came out was a hoarse groan. To weeks later, he sat in a wheelchair under a tree behind the hospital in absolute silence. He couldn’t hear anything and really, his eyes were open but he couldn’t see anything. He didn’t move and he barely breathed.
They might as well have killed him. The broke one knee irreparably and broke the other leg as well. His career was over. He had been found at the side of a road a day after France had reappeared, naked and barefoot. He had been beaten black and blue but all his bones were intact.
When the club found out what happened they sympathized and as he had health insurance, paid for his hospital bills. However, for obvious reasons, they chose to hush up the details, as both sides had been wrong to set each other up and France’s uncle paid him off a measly few million to shut up about it knowing it would all probably disappear into the medical bills. And what was worse, he had given up what was left of his life savings, which was a lot, so that they would leave him alive, only to be threatened by France’s uncles goons.
He would be released in a week, but… he was probably going to kill himself.