Avengers Assemble – Bentley 50

[For a quick guide go here: Quick guide.

For back story go here: Story so far at 30 Nov 2020 and more recent Bentley episodes especially this one.]

[Other back story through in-links.]

Bentley and his cat sat on the other side of the room, the farthest away from the laptop computer that he could get. They were huddled together under a blanket. Or rather Bentley thought they were huddled. Lucky probably just thought this was a very friendly, comforting and chilled out way to spend a morning, afternoon and evening. Punctuated by trips to the kitchen when Bentley would refill his tea, microwave lunch and, after much meowing of protest, give Lucky some more dried whatever pellets they were. 

It wasn’t that Bentley was afraid of his computer, he just didn’t want to turn it back on. And at least his mobile phone was still looking alright. It was happily downloading email and updating across the news apps. It told him how many steps he’d taken that day. Although he wasn’t that surprised to find it was only 27.

He also had three answerphone messages waiting for his attention, none of which he intended to listen to, although he was pretty certain one of them was from the company that delivered his milk every other weekday. This didn’t matter, so far as he was concerned he’d pushed the wrong button in entering a chat room with Aston, and now everything, everything was tarnished and suspect. He had half a mind to turn off the wifi in case it was infiltrating the toaster, waiting to sabotage breakfast and turn his kitchen into a low rise towering inferno.

He had so far texted two people he thought might be able to help. His phone connection to the internet had led him to a few resources, who appeared to be able to do things he could not. But while he’d dabbled with members of the online underworld in the past year when he was trying to sort out Lawrence, he’d needed to find someone new, someone who was adept at resolving bug issues.

– It’ll cost you mind. Read one text.

Bentley grimaced at the box of cash.

– That shouldn’t be a problem.

– Needs to be bitcoin or other cryptocurrency. Said the return text.

Bentley was puzzled. Why the hell did he have to make this so complicated? Why couldn’t he just stuff a brown envelope and mail it? For heaven's sake it wasn’t like it would be traced and there was so little mail going round at the moment he was pretty certain it would be safe. It could be sent recorded or couriered.

– No crypto, no deal. My fees rise a lot if its cash.

– I have a lot of cash. Bentley assured the texter. – Believe me.

– You don’t have enough. Said the texter. – Believe me.

Bentley sensed someone was a bit big for their boots and told them so.

– Suit yourself. Read the text. – More people need my services.

Sod you, thought Bentley. Probably needs to feel he’s important somehow if he just goes by the name of Adrian.

The second person Bentley was in touch with offered to take a more direct route. He promised to do all kinds of things to Aston, regardless of how difficult or indeed physically impossible they might seem to be initially. Not only that but the guy worked for cash. Exclusively. (Flint decided that was really the only way to be an effective heavy with a good career). The only issue being here that while Bentley had a general idea of where Aston might be, he didn’t know precisely where he was. And he was damned if he was going to start hiring other people to find out that information. At a push he could always invite Aston to meet him somewhere, take a chance that the man himself would turn up and have the heavy stationed round the corner, waiting. There again, Aston probably had his own heavy and the two would end up knocking each other out and he and Aston would still be the same. 

Bentley wondered if he had really burned his bridges with the family he’d found over the past year. The reacquaintance with Shiela and Lawrence and maybe even Natalie could offer some kind of help - if he could only figure out how.

Aston might be on his trail, he might be taking steps even now to get to his block and put pressure on him for the key and more, so time was of the essence. Armed with another chocolate biscuit and a purring cat, Bentley sent a group email to Shiela, Lawrence and Natalie.

– I’m in a pickle. It read – Need all your help. But it has to be by my rules.

He munched his biscuit thoughtfully and within 15 minutes his team had been assembled.