The old man sat alone on the park bench in the rose gardens. He always sat alone now ,in his favourite spots since his wife of 40 years passed two years ago. He stared at the patch of gravel in front of him where her life bled away after a mugging ended in her being stabbed multiple times while trying to hold on to her purse.
He sighed and took the cellphone from his pocket, turned it on and looked at the screen.
After his wife died he spent his days visiting their favourite locations but the rose gardens in the vast park was still the best, even with its haunting memory. When not out walking he spent time in his workshop tinkering with bits of wire and the things he bought from the web. The dark web.
He was aware of the three young guys in hoodies who appeared on the path to his left. They'd stopped to confer and then two walked along towards him while one stayed at the end of the path, looking around. As they approached, one of the youths kept walking further along the path and the other stopped to take out a pack of cigarettes from his jacket. The old man pretended not to notice and kept looking at the cellphone screen.
"Got a light grandad?" the youth asked before snatching the cellphone and pressing a small but dangerous-looking knife against the old man's cheek.
"I'll take that" he hissed "and your wallet too you old fart."
The old man slumped in resignation and took out the battered leather wallet from his jacket and handed it over.
"Thanks grandad" the youth said and whooped to his lookouts, holding up the cellphone and wallet so that they could see while he pocketed the knife.
"You didn't see us right grandad." He said with menace as the youth who'd walked past returned and the two of them joined the third at the end of the path.
Keeping his slumped and dejected pose the old man quietly reached into his jacket and took out his cellphone, his normal one, and scrolled through to the call menu, finding the number he wanted and waited, watching the three youths. He waited until they gathered closely, looking in the old wallet that now contained an expired credit card, some never used shopper loyalty cards and a few dollar bills. The youth with the knife held the cellphone in his right hand which rang seconds after the old man pressed the number and selected 'call'.
A balloon of gas bulged from the phone before the explosion enveloped the three in fire and noise. The youth with the phone might have seen his right arm disappear as he fell face down on the path, his head in flames. The others' upper bodies were engulfed in fire and they screamed and staggered before falling next to their friend.
The old man smiled grimly and a favourite Steely Dan song popped into his head.
"You go back, Jack, do it again."
An old Jack Reacher. I saw that ending coming.
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