The Hitman's Last Job

by Aaliyah Jackson

  After a few minutes Carl had rolled over to put an arm around her and she moved in to hold him closer. The intimacy felt so peaceful and natural to them both and they kissed sweetly. They lay in each other’s arms just enjoying the affection and warmth that they gave each other. Soon, Carl felt as though he was about to drift off into sleep but then he felt a nudge in his ribs as Anna woke him.

  “Hey…” she said and kissed him on the cheek. “Think we can go again?”

  “No way! Are you serious?”

  “Absolutely. I need you so much,”

  “Are you sure it won’t hurt?”

  “I don’t break easily,” she winked as she pulled his body onto hers. “I can take you again,”

  And Carl felt hard again. He couldn’t remember the last time he had experienced such endless pleasure and relished the thought of a third time. Suddenly, being holed up in a cheap motel room seemed romantic and cosy rather than dangerous and seedy. He looked into Anna’s eyes as he opened her up with his fingers before sliding himself into her slowly.

  At first she gasped as though she was in pain and he pulled back.

  “I’m ok,” she reassured him. “I can keep going,”

  And he entered her again but this time slower. He felt her melt and ease into the moment as he held her beneath him. He watched as her breasts swelled. He leant down and nuzzled on her and she let out a tiny whimper as she ground her hips to meet his. Wrapping her arms around him she spread her legs wider and clasped them around his back.

  “Can you go harder?” she cried and Carl couldn’t stop himself from obliging.

  He thrust hard and fast and felt as though another orgasm was fast approaching but this time he was in control and he didn’t feel much like playing games. He thrust a little faster and then a faster again until the headboard started to bang furiously on the wall as Anna’s screams grew louder. Then he ejaculated once more so hard and so quickly that his balls ached as he pulled out of her. He looked down to her as he sat up and watched the sweat run down the space between her enormous breasts. He had never seen anyone so sexy and beautiful and he thought he would never be able to look away.

  Anna was still gasping for breath and lay for a moment with her eyes closed feeling both exhausted but satisfied. She had never felt so present in her emotions as though her thoughts had left her body. It took several minutes until she felt like she’d floated back into her body and she opened her eyes.

  “Hmmmm…..” she mumbled dreamily. “Won’t you hold me?”

  “Of course sweetheart,” Carl whispered as he lay beside her.

  They curled up close beneath the sheets and fell quickly into a deep sleep. When Carl eventually woke up it was pitch black outside.

  CHAPTER 8

  Angelo sat angrily in his favorite restaurant waiting impatiently for his food to arrive. He sipped sloppily from a Martini glass and crossed his arms in a temper.

  “God damn waiters in here take forever!” and he snapped his fingers at a nearby member of staff who looked as though she might faint from fright at the sight of him. “Hey! HEY! Order over here, sometime today kid,” he pointed at the table.

  “I’ll see what I can do,” the waitress dropped what she was doing and scurried off into the kitchen with a beet red face.

  “Fuckin’ teenagers,” Angelo grumbled. “Anyhow, everyone’s here right?”

  He looked around the table and saw his most beloved henchmen around him. They all nodded respectfully.

  “Good…Well I’m sure you all know why I’ve brought you here today?”

  Again they all nodded.

  “It seems as though we have a real problem. One I’m quite frankly surprised to have,” he shook his head in disappointment,”

  “I have to say, I’m as shocked as you are,” Jerry leaned in. “That Carl was a good kid. Knew him for years I did…. And Lucas was like a brother to me,”

  “Yuh…it’s always the quiet ones you have to look out for,” explained Angelo solemnly. “So what’s the plan? What do we know about him?”

  “Well he’s an ex-Navy man,” one of the young ones said from the bottom of the table while flicking through his phone. “And pretty much a loner. Only 4 friends on Facebook, no Tumblr account, not even an Instagram. Has a Twitter but hasn’t posted anything in nearly six months and that was just a retweet,”

  “I literally have no idea what you just said kid,” Angelo laughed. “Again in English?”

  “What I mean to say is that this Carl guy has no online presence, and no social life that we know about. So unless he has some sort of underground, super-secret life then he kinda flies under the radar don’t he?”

  “Hmmm…..” Jerry was deep in thought. “What about those Facebook friends? Anyone we know?”

  “Hang on let me check,” the young man flicked through his phone furiously before finding the details. “Ah! Got’em. Well three of the guys are Navy too but are still in service so we can’t get close to them. But the last guy….it looks like his old man!”

  “Ah! So we have a start,” smiled the Don as he leant forward, and placed his fingers together in thought.

  The waiter interrupted with a plate of food and Angelo looked irritated but then was quickly pleased when he saw the pile of fries.

  “So…internet kid,” he spoke with a mouth full of food. “You get me the father’s address and you,” he pointed to a small and silent man with sinister eyes and a nervous twitch. “Jorge, you’re coming with us,”

  And Jorge grinned maniacally.

  ~

  It was early morning. Carl was walking through the streets of the little town on the edge of St Louis while constantly looking over his shoulder. The anxiety was unbearable and although he knew that it was unlikely the Don and his men would know where he was, he knew that it wouldn’t be long until they did. He turned around to check he wasn’t being followed one last time and then swerved into a women’s clothing store. If he was seen buying women’s clothes they’d know he had Anna and he’d be a dead man for sure. He felt the ridiculous need to dive in amongst the clothes racks but tried to retain some composure. He quickly picked out some basic underwear, half a dozen comfortable looking t-shirts, sweaters and a few pairs of leggings before taking them up to the counter.

  “Oooh is it someone’s birthday?” the attractive sales assistant asked as she began to ring through the clothes.

  “My girlfriend’s,” he lied smoothly and the word stuck in his head and sounded strange as he said it. It didn’t seem weird to think of Anna as his girlfriend but it was strangely comforting.

  He felt slightly dizzy as he paid and left the store. Things had moved so fast and so dramatically that he felt as though he was dreaming. He raced back to the motel and found Anna watching TV with a scared look on her face.

  “What is it?” he said as he placed the bags down beside her.

  Her hair was tumbling down over her pale naked body and she was staring wide eyed at the television. She pointed weakly to the screen.

  “Look,” she whimpered. “Do you think it’s a warning of some kind?”

  Carl sat down beside her. A news report was blaring loudly and he could see the female reporter standing in front of a burning building. Her words hit him fast:

  “I’m standing here at the Sleep Eazy Motel in Chicago’s south side, where a mysteriously set alight fire in the middle of the night took the lives of 6 guests as they slept, and 2 members of staff,”

  Carl felt his hands begin to shake and he gripped the bedsheets to steady himself.

  “This is more than a warning,” he grimaced. “This is a preview. We need to move….and now,”

  The couple quickly set into motion as they packed up their belongings and Anna threw on some clean clothes. She didn’t think that she had ever worn new clothes in her life, she was always given her cousin’s hand me downs. The feel of the new labels and freshness of the fabric was new to her. She breathed in the smell as Carl closed to door behind them. Th
e TV was left on in the background and as they ran across the parking lot Anna could still hear the news reporter.

  “We’ve had many acts of arson in this state in recent years but nothing on a scale like this. The police have declined to comment,”

  ~

  Jorge had got the details from the internet kid and was now sitting in his Buick while admiring his new shoes. He had a real penchant for snakeskin boots and these were super fine. He bent down to graze his fingers over the purple scales and they felt divine. Quickly turning his attention back to the house he saw there was still no movement. This was the boring part of the job, the waiting, the boredom. It was a job of two worlds - either hectic, villainous excitement or just waiting.

  He flicked open his lighter and lit a cigarette. Something about the way Zippo’s burned always pleased him and he remembered the smell of the motel walls from last night as they peeled down in flames before his eyes. Arson wasn’t his favorite act of violence. He thought it would maybe come second to slashing. He sat in his car and remembered his childhood fondly; summers in Puerto Rico with his grandparents, and cold winters in Chicago in a neighbourhood he pretty much had free reign over.

  One of his favorite hobbies was to torch random people’s cars just to watch the ensuing chaos. But that fun came to an end when he set fire to a young mother’s VW as she jumped out for a moment to run an errand. He hadn’t realized that her six month old son was in the back fast asleep. He had to lay low after that even though the kid survived but still…. He had gotten cocky and complacent, sloppy even. After that he just stuck to abandoned buildings and stolen vehicles, and as he got older the habit faded he only threw lit matches for cash. It was a peculiar skill he was rather good at.

  In the wing mirror he noticed an old, beaten up people carrier in that particular shade of beige that only old folk like.

  “That must be him,” Jorge whispered to no one in particular as he lit a cigarette.

  He breathed out the blue smoke and watched it dance on the breeze. Across the road an old yet athletic man was carrying in groceries from his car while talking into an outdated cell phone. Jorge watched him from the comfort of his car through his beady eyes and smiled as he thought about what he’d do with him. He eventually tucked his cigarette into his cars ashtray instead of flicking it out the window – they weren’t finding his DNA on the crime scene - and swaggered over the street. He pressed the doorbell. Silence. He knew the old man was in there, he was just playing hard to get. Reaching out a sweaty hand he pressed the doorbell again. Still silence. Jorge soon tired of the old dude playing coy and he knocked on the door loudly.

  “Who is it?” the old man called.

  Jorge could hear the panic in his voice. He obviously wasn’t used to visitors. In his strongest Puerto Rican accent, he put on especially for privileged white people, he playfully yelled:

  “Yo man! Girl Scouts! You wanna buy some cookies?”

  The old man immediately blustered into the hallway and Jorge could see him through the blurred glass.

  “What do you want?” he was terrified but nevertheless tried to stand his ground. “I have a gun you know?”

  “So do I,” came the glib reply from the Puerto Rican with the dazzling smile. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” that playful voice again.

  “I have no cash in the house!” was all the man could say to try and placate the terror he was feeling.

  “Look man I don’t want your money. I just need to talk,”

  “Please leave! Or I’m phoning the police!”

  But it was too late. As he reached out to the phone that lay by the front door Jorge had smashed in the glass with the handle of his gun and unlocked the door. He instantly grabbed the man by his cardigan and pushed him into the wall.

  “Don’t play games grandpa….”

  “What do you want?”

  “You’re Carl Reiner’s father ain’t ya?”

  Suddenly the old man’s face turned pale and Jorge could see the fear in his eyes.

  “Take that as a yes,” he put him back down on his feet. “So what can you tell me about him? Is he here?”

  “No he’s not here. Hasn’t been in a long while,” his voice shook with sadness.

  “Well you won’t mind if I take a look around then?” Jorge said menacingly as he began to knock ornaments from the mantel piece and books from the shelves.

  He was enjoying himself and this was part of the interrogation process that Jorge loved. The fear in people’s eyes as he violated their personal space was priceless. But more than anything he loved the way they looked so helpless. He glanced over to Reiner Senior who wasn’t trying to stop him from trashing the place. Jorge walked into the dining room and knocked a glass off the table like a naughty child. It shattered loudly on the floorboards and Reiner flinched at the noise. Jorge saw how scared he really was.

  “Look please….I don’t know what you want and I don’t know where my son is. Haven’t seen him in years,”

  “Is that so?” Jorge could see honesty behind the old man’s eyes. He knew he was telling the truth but still…. He wanted his playtime.

  Pulling out the rope from the inside of his jacket, he wound the ends around his hands while looking Reiner in the eye. Next he strode over and quickly grabbed him by the arm and twisted it behind his back. The old man screamed and grimaced in pain, but Jorge didn’t care. He just pulled at the other arm and secured both wrists together. Reiner made a pained and pathetic noise as he was dragged by his shirt collar down the stairs into the basement.

  It was a dark yet strangely homely space filled with Reiner’s various hobby crafts and old photographs. It wasn’t the usual dungeon that Jorge was used to but it would do. He placed his captive in the corner and tied the rope to a water pipe. He looked down to check that it was tight enough and he saw that Reiner’s hands were quickly turning purple.

  “Good job,” he muttered to himself. “Soon the pain will be unbearable,”

  And for good measure he kicked his prisoner in the groin. He yelped in agony but again Jorge didn’t care. He liked to watch the struggling. It was times like this he wished he was prepared, and he thought it would have been nice to have some snacks to hand. He’d sit in front of the old guy and kick back, relax and watch the torture. All he had though was cigarettes. He lit one and blew the smoke into Reiner’s face who immediately began to cough.

  “Why are you doing this?” his voice was becoming increasingly desperate.

  “I won’t have to do anything if you tell me where Carl is,”

  “But I don’t know! I mean I wish I knew… I miss my son,”

  “Urgh…. You’re a real sorry son of a bitch you know that?” Jorge spat on the ground.

  He looked down at the pitiful state of Reiner Snr and compared him to the young hitman that he knew.

  “How did that man even come outta you?” he asked mockingly. “He’s twice the man you’ll ever be,” and he watched the old man begin to cry.

  This was getting nowhere. Old Reiner obviously knew nothing and was only likely to piss himself rather than give up any useful information.

  “When was the last time you saw him?” Jorge prodded one last time.

  “About 4 years ago. We had a big argument. He’s never been back,” and he looked genuinely sorry.

  “Hmmmm…..” Something about his expression made Jorge believe him.

  But he wasn’t the sort of guy that just let people go. Instead he left him there in the corner and turned the light off as he walked up the stairs.

  CHAPTER 9

  Carl and Anna were running headlong into nowhere with nothing but what they carried.

  “We’ve got to stick to the back roads and away from the motels. They’ll be checking every single one in the state,”

  “But how can they have that many men on the ground? They can’t really have eyes everywhere!”

  “Believe me girl they do… more than you could know,” he blurted out angrily as
he dipped into an alley way.

  “What are we to do?” Anna was frantic. “Where do we go?”

  “Shut up a minute, I’m thinking,” he winced in pain as his back ached.

  He leaned against the wall for support and looked to the sky. Something caught his eye and he placed his hand over his brows to block the sun.

  “Hey… I think I see something” and he jogged up the alleyway slowly with a slight limp.

  “Fuck! Don’t leave me,” she ran after him.

  Carl stopped halfway down the alley and looked up the side of the building. He was eyeing up an apartment that looked abandoned.

  “Wait here,”

  “No! Don’t leave me!”

  “I’ll be two seconds,” and he disappeared out the alley.

  He came back a few moments later with a look of optimism.

  “There a sign on the front. It’s been foreclosed,”

  “So?”

  “It means it’s empty dummy,” he laughed. “Come on,”

  Carl led Anna up the fire escape taking two steps at a time.

  “Now what?” Anna was both confused and exhilarated at the top.

  “Now we get in…. believe me I know what I’m doing,”

  “I don’t wanna know how!” she looked away as Carl pulled out a pen knife and expertly opened the window.

  He slid it up with a smile. “Home sweet home… now let’s hope there’s no alarm.

  “This is fucking crazy,” Anna was outraged.

  “Well you got a better idea?”

  “Guess not,” she mumbled.

  “Uhuh,”

  And they climbed in to find an apartment that had an atmosphere akin to the Mary Celeste. The furniture was intact and there were cups and personal objects scattered about the place, as though the owner left this morning. But the thick layer of dust showed otherwise. Anna thought that it was terribly sad someone’s home had to be evacuated in such way. She wandered into a bedroom and saw the bed sheets were turned back. It was a sorry thought that some poor soul awoke to start the day but then never returned.