Victor crossed the foggy walkway with controlled haste. He nodded to Rick, “Everything is in order.”
Rick’s face remained expressionless, “All except for one thing you really ought to know before we leave. Yeah, I said we, you poor sap. Ilsa and I will be on that plane…not you.”
Victor was clearly confused, “I’m afraid I must ask you to explain yourself, Monsieur Blaine.”
Rick’s laugh was a short bark, “Sure, why not? Not like it’ll make much difference to you down the line, anyway. You said before you knew all about Ilsa and me, eh?
“I’ll bet you didn’t know she was at my place last night… same time you were. Oh, she was catching a little beauty sleep since I’d just rode her harder than one of Ali Baba’s camels. She came for the letters of transit. She didn’t succeed, but she did get a ‘post’ of sorts. Right, Ilsa?”
Her taunting gaze stabbed Victor to his core.
“Oh yes, Rick. I got what I needed.”
“She tried everything to get them from me, even went so far as to claim she still loved you. But we both know that was over a long time ago, eh sport? Still, she likes to role play, so I let her pretend…right up until I decided to give her a new roll to play with.”
“I…don’t…understand.” Victor moaned.
“No, Don’t guess you would. See, this is the end of the fight for you. For what it’s worth, your side never stood a chance. We better hurry or we’ll miss our flight. So long, sucker.”
Ilsa sneered at her former husband, “To hell with you.”
As the flight to Lisbon took wing, Captain Renault kept his pistol firmly on Victor until Major Strasser arrived to conclude their business and line Louis’ pockets.
This story was written for the Different Endings story contest sponsored by the indescribably cool, Mindy Sue. The task? To take a popular book/movie and write it a completely new and different ending in 300 words or less. Rumor has it there are prizes at stake, so get your entry in now.