Chef Jakub – Written By Stephen Fahey. Part 50

The following day I called to the address on the card that the escort had given me. And to my surprise Miel answered the door in person. I was not surprising though when he didn’t recognise me and he was about to close the door in my face without a word but at the last moment paused and opened the door again, then leered at me and waved me inside. Still silent, Miel walked ahead of me and led me to his kitchen were we talked and he told me that I would be his private chef at a function he was hosting in his home a few nights later. Then, before I had a chance to discuss any details he started back out towards the front door of his house. Along the way, dazed, I mumble-asked how many guests he was entertaining and he told me there would be eighteen. I was about to explain that I couldn’t cater for that many but he slammed the door shut and I found myself outside, nose to nose with the expensive oak, stunned.

I didn’t know what to do. I had accepted by not declining and it was obvious that Miel had things in motion by that point, so there was an opportunity, but in a function situation where people wouldn’t all be seated together I couldn’t guarantee they would all take the serums, and at the necessary times. I faced a dilemma, but neither I nor my brother would let the opportunity pass. I ran back to Luke. It wasn’t much by way of paying him back for letting Griton, Taryn and Miel leave Zarinah’s the previous night, but he was exhilarated, in spite of the difficulties.

We were savage with our attention to detail. Everything down to the plates and glasses we would use. It wasn’t long before we decided that we would use the opportunity to damage Miel and his associates’ reputations without killing them. Luke and I would ensure that only those we wanted to target would get the serums. We hoped that our less than astronomical culinary abilities would make fools of those under the serum, for their inevitable and of course inexplicable praising of our food. It was a simple plan and doubt was rife in our hearts, but my brother and I had sworn ourselves onto this effort. That meant something to us, even it mean didn’t mean anything to anyone else.

We prepared and rehearsed and I gave Luke the small details of the house that I had gleaned from my short visit there. We postponed all bookings at Zarinah’s that week and used the restaurant to practice the servicing of our targets. I don’t remember sleeping at all those few days, but we perfected our system. Nobody was going to interfere with our service. I would handle the targets and Luke would control everyone else. We would wrap our bottles in cloth so that nobody would know if they were empty or not, thus allowing us the excuse of needing another bottle to prevent those who we were not targeting from consuming the serum. We also accounted for anyone that may have already visited Zarinah’s being there and voted that we would have to give them the serum too. We would cook the same food for everyone but we wouldn’t use any ingredients that would render our targets incapacitated, such as Sky Fire. We also prepared for the possibility of all our targets being in attendance, in which case we would not administer the second serum and take our chances on the run. And, of course, when the inevitable leers of confusion began, we would keep our distance from everyone – like good help should. The night before the function we slept a deep ravenous sleep, sure in our plan.

To be continued…

© Stephen Fahey

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