Free The White Mountain by Ernie Lindsey

you’ll return to your seat for me, yes?  Thank you.  To continue, these
ten men formed a pact.  An agreement to hunt, and to be hunted.  While the simple desire to continue their murderous ways was enough motivation, they felt
that some sort of monetary compensation should be offered.  After all, it was a
bet, was it not?  Pitting one man’s skills against another’s?  They compiled
their resources to create a prize for the victor, and given the value of their
currency at the time, it wasn’t much.  Would anyone care to guess the amount?”
    Shallow Grave said, “Probably
worth more than that pretty pink shirt of yours.”
    “Your disapproval of my
attire is noted, but the amount would barely pay for a button.  Ten dollars.  Ten of your American dollars.  As you have been informed, due to inflation and the
compensation required to entice some of the world’s finest into this
competition, that amount has grown to ten million .”
    “Who puts up the money?”
Randall asked.  “You know, who’s running the show?”
    “A powerful family.  I’m sure
you’d recognize the name, but they wish to remain anonymous so that particular
detail will stay unspoken.  What matters, gentlemen, is that you should take
pride in the fact that each of your heads has a street value of one million
dollars.”
    Shallow Grave said, “I got
gum stuck to the bottom of my shoe that’s worth more than the rest of these
jokers combined.”
    The comment bruised
overinflated, fragile egos, and protests exploded around the room.  Like a
gaggle of teenage boys, they shouted and shoved, overturned chairs, and ripped
collars.  Randall refrained from joining the melee, and it had taken Enigma
longer than five minutes to regain control.
    When the ruckus had been
contained, Enigma continued.  “I’ve already provided you with the terms upon
your acceptance into the contest, but in case any of you have forgotten, allow
me to reiterate.  In no manner of importance, and they are simple so I trust
that we will see no issues arise, the rules are as follows:  the ten of you in
this room have agreed, of your own free will, to participate in this contest
under the penalty of death.  I can assure you, should you attempt to remove
yourself from the confines of your agreement, in any manner, you will be located
and dealt the appropriate punishment.  There is no escape.  Think of it as
signing away your life.  I offered you a chance to decline prior to your
acceptance, and no further attempts to rescind your commitment will be
offered.  By a show of hands, please, is that understood?”
    Nine hands and one middle
finger, courtesy of The Devil Himself, went into the air.
    “Good.  Nine of you agree
complicity and I will take the minor insult as another yes.  Moving along.  As
you can see, there are ten men in this room.  To keep you from murdering each
other where you sit, the contest will not begin until we notify you and are
certain that you are squarely situated hours, if not continents, apart.”
    “Who’s we ?” Randall
asked.
    “Please hold all questions. 
Thank you.  Given the paths you have chosen for yourselves, I am certain you
are all familiar with the phrase, ‘need to know.’  You will be told what you
need to know, yes?  Nothing more.  This, gentlemen, is essentially a test of skill
against skill.  Each of you will write his chosen codename on a slip of paper
and deposit it into this hat.”  He held up a limp, gray cap.  “This very hat
was worn by the original winner—a soldier of the Confederacy.  A valuable
relic.  Please, take a look.  See?  If you will allow me one aside...history
may be forgotten, but it is never truly lost.  You can even note the
bloodstains along the brim.
    “You’ll drop your names in
and I will choose the first rabbit for the hounds to chase.  However, be forewarned
that the rabbit may come equipped with a ferocious set of knives or the ability
to snap your neck,