A Giant's Hands [ON HOLD]

Chapter 6 [J.Hunter&Sons] - Introducing Jack Hunter

He went by Jack Hunter, although, of course, that wasn't his name.

In his line of work, it didn't pay to have people know who you are or where you live.

Never a man of great imagination, Jack Hunter had chosen the simplest name there was - the one that told his clientele exactly what he was and what he did.

He was the Hunter.

He caught the quarry and sold it to those who would pay his price.

He was currently standing over the large custom made strongbox - which was divided into several platforms that stacked neatly on top of each other, each, in turn, split into padded, individually accessible, six by two compartments - scrutinizing this week's catch.

"Looks like Mme Tiascu will be winning first pick again," his oldest, 'Pete', commented from the corner where he was sitting at the computer, watching the auction on their darknet page coming to a close.

"Aaand... done. Tiascu it is."

"How much?", his father asked.

"Fifty. She's been pretty eager since the Nguyen-Fiasco."

Jack nodded. "Not bad. Let's hope they stay at each other's throats. I know the Sakura-Tree made prime income with what they picked that day. Word got around, and their customers will be expecting a higher class of merchandise.
I've got six here worth keeping back for the single auction. You and 'Tom' should both have a look as well. Pick two each to hold back for the Sakura-Tree. We'll offer them at extra charge.
I'm sure the Nguyens will be happy to pay up. Word is, they might be serving a "special customer" soon."

Pete nodded. "Will do, Dad. When's 'Dr. Hyde' coming over?"

"Said he'd be here by four, the greedy bastard.
Had him on the phone just now and would you believe it, he tried to up the prices yet again, the bloodsucker.
Told him he was lucky we pay him what we do, which is far more than we should, and if he had any problem with that he'd be welcome to go back to removing ticks and snipping the balls of some poor kid's pet hamster. Plenty of Vets with an open mind looking for work out there, I said, and so what if they don't have your experience working on the merchandise.
So they fuck up a few times, and perhaps we lose a few, but they'll bloody take what I'm offering and be happy with it instead of trying to milk me for more cash every opportunity they get.
That sure shut him up. For now at least."

Jack gave his son the look.

"If only someone had done what he was told and studied-"

"Oh come off it, Dad!" Pete raised his hands.
"Veterinary science sucks, and I wasn't about to spend three years learning Gynecology, and end up with my arm stuck up some 40-year-old lady with a yeast infection, just so I can spend my free time sterilizing the merchandise because you're paranoid someone might have more success at breeding them then you did!
I don't see why you bother anyway.
Even if they get them to breed, it'll be at least twelve to thirteen years until they get anything they can use. So alright, Tiascu has her special customers who prefer the under-ten-year-olds, but those guys are pretty rare, and the kids never survive long anyway. Besides, I'm already doing the Webpage and the training, aren't I?"

"Because I'm thinking of the future, you ungrateful idiot," Jack replied angrily, "And that's your future as well, in case you forgot that!"
He slammed his fist on the table, eliciting terrified screams from the bound merchandise in their confinements that could be heard even through the tiny strips of cloth they had been gagged with.
"And you shut the fuck up!", Jack roared down at his catch, making the tiny people cringe in fear.

Pete sighed, turning away from the computer, while Jack kept glaring at the boxes contents.

"Why don't you go get Tom, Dad, and I'll start on the pictures for Tiascu", he suggested, trying to calm his father.

"Alright", came the somewhat grumpy reply.
Jack nodded at his son, and turned to leave, but stopped halfway through the door.

"Almost forgot, how far are you with the training?"

Pete didn't meet his father's eyes as, trying his best to sound nonchalant, he replied: "It's going good, they should be ready by the day after tomorrow."

Noting his son's behaviour, Jack let out a long sigh and asked flatly: "How many this time, Pete."

There was a pause, then:

"Three."

Jack gave Pete a long look, then simply shook his head.

"Cut back on that bullshit, will ya? I don't care how much you like it, that's expensive merchandise you're killing. I swear, if the customers weren't so fucking pleased with your results... "
He sighed again.
"No more than two, this time. And for god's sake, at least pick them out before you send the pictures to the Madame."

When his father was gone, Pete got up and walked over to the strongbox.
Placing his hands on either side of it, he slowly bent forward a little, enjoying the way his huge shadow fell over the tiny people imprisoned within.

Thirty-seven pairs of eyes turned to stare up at his gigantic figure looming above.

Pete watched with deep satisfaction, as each pair widened in fear when he let a slow, malicious smile spread on his face.

"Hello there," he cooed happily.

"Hmm, I wonder, which of you should I take...?"