Rhett hung up and dove for the phone at the edge of the bed…the line was dead. He sprinted for the bathroom just as the first shot tore through the door and entered a pillow, several feathers bouncing into the air and drifting slowly to the carpet.
Rhett climbed into the tub. He heard several more spits before the room’s door broke open, somebody stepping inside and shutting it behind them. He couldn’t see the figure and he wasn’t sure whether it was a single person. He closed his eyes and listened…he could only hear one set of breaths.
Tilting his head around the corner, he could see through the space between the door and wall. A man in a leather jacket was flipping through the clothes on his bed, which he had been about to pack. On the nightstand was the .22 he always carried with him. The man noticed it and strode over. He dismantled the weapon in a couple of seconds and threw the pieces on the floor.
The man, his pistol aimed low, walked gingerly to the sliding closet door. He fired two rounds into each panel and then swung open the door as he ducked low to the ground.
Finding nothing inside, he circled the room with his eyes until he spotted the bathroom.
The man approached slowly, trying to see every angle in the bathroom. The way the tub was placed, he couldn’t see much more than the toilet. Rhett leaned back in the tub, careful not to touch the shower curtain.
The man stepped into the bathroom, opening the door all the way to ensure nobody hid behind it. His vision landed on the mirror, and his eyes met Rhett’s in the reflection.
The man moved to swing the gun around when Rhett kicked out into the door. The edge hit him on the nose and snapped his head back. Rhett sprang out of the tub.
The man was pressed against the sink, both of Rhett’s hands on the weapon as it fired two rounds into the wall. Rhett head-butted him in the bridge of his nose and then let go of the weapon with one hand long enough to bash his elbow into the man’s chin. His grip on the gun loosened and it fell to the floor.
Rhett reached down for it and the man came up with a knee, which Rhett blocked with his elbow. He stood as the man straight punched into his face several times, Rhett parrying the blows or knocking them away with the palms of his hands.
The man kicked at Rhett’s groin and then his knee and then tried to get him in an arm lock. Rhett twisted around, ending up behind him, and elbowed him in the back of the head, sending the intruder’s head into the wall.
The man spun with an elbow. Rhett blocked it with his forearm. Instantly, the man spun in the other direction with his other elbow and Rhett ducked, coming back up with two sharp blows into his kidneys.
The man donkey kicked behind him, catching Rhett in the groin so that Rhett bent over and was caught with a palm to the face. This sent him flying back into the counter.
The man went for a pistol that was tucked into a holster at his side. Rhett grabbed the nearest thing to him, a glass toothbrush holder, and flung it at the man with everything he had. Catching him in the face and cutting his cheek open, Rhett jumped and impacted against the man’s chest with both feet.
His opponent hit the wall hard as Rhett leapt to his feet. He swung with an easy left, which the man grabbed and twisted, trying for another arm lock. With his other hand, Rhett thrust out with a spear-hand blow, feeling the crunch of the man’s windpipe underneath his fingers.
He gasped for air and Rhett began delivering blow after blow to his chin, throat, and chest. He stomped downward onto the man’s knee, cracking it, and toppling him over. Rhett mounted him and dropped down with elbows onto his face until it was nothing but a spongy red mess.
He sat up, breathing hard.
“Why?” he said. The man didn’t reply so Rhett climbed off him and found the gun on the bathroom floor. He fired one round into the man’s knee and then bent down and stuck his thumb into the small hole, pulling at the wound until it tore.
The man screamed.
“Why?” Rhett said again. The man didn’t respond and Rhett aimed the weapon at his genitals. “I promise you, it’s more painful there.”
The man, blood caked into his eyes, grinned. “You talk too much.”
He whipped out a blade concealed in his sleeve and lunged at Rhett.
Rhett absorbed the forward momentum of his arm and twisted it around with one hand, sending the blade back into the man’s eye. As he screamed, blood spattered over the carpet and walls. Rhett stood and pinned him against the floor, placing his foot on the hilt of the knife.
“Tell me why, now.”
The man was near passing out. “They’re gonna have some fun with your mark. Six of ’em. They’re gonna make her husband watch before they turn her inside out. Maybe they’ll fuck him too.”
“You telling me she didn’t leave? She’s still here?”
There was no response. Rhett pushed on the knife, forcing it down another quarter of an inch. The man shrieked so loudly it echoed in the room.
“Why? What’s so important about her?” Rhett demanded.
The man was delirious from pain and didn’t say anything. He was clawing at the foot, trying to get at the knife that was sticking out of his eyeball. Rhett removed his foot and walked over to the bed. He slipped on a pair of clothes, throwing the rest of it into his suitcase. He looked to the man one more time before heading out the door.
CHAPTER 14
Rhett walked into the terminal at JFK and stood in the TSA line to get screened. He pulled out a false identification for a Robert K. Adelman along with his boarding pass. The airport was packed with travelers though he couldn’t tell why. It was just another Tuesday and no holidays were on the horizon.
He exhaled loudly as he slipped off his shoes and put them in a tray.
Starlight never sent more than one agent at a time. If the man was telling the truth and they had sent six, it meant it was war. Why would one target, a minor congresswoman, be so important? They’d had far more significant targets in the past, and each time only one agent was dispatched. Something wasn’t right.
Rhett noticed a young couple in line, holding hands until the last moment before they had to separate and go into different metal detectors. They held hands again on the other side. He pictured Stephanie, an image forcing its way into his mind: her broken and nude body lying on a floor. Her husband tied up in the corner, weeping at the sight of six men gang-raping and torturing his wife.
The man wasn’t exaggerating about turning her inside out. When Starlight needed to send a message, no message was more brutal. They never asked Rhett for that kind of wet work because they knew he would decline, but he had heard rumors about the brutality.
One mark they had tied upside down and used a blowtorch on for over an hour until every inch of skin had peeled off his body. They had left him there and he died several days later from infection. The man had been a war criminal—a common occupation for Starlight contracts—but still, he had a family. A family that had no idea who he had been in a previous life, and who would never know what had happened to him.
The family had become destitute without him. The mother, partially disabled from a genetic disorder affecting her spine, couldn’t work more than a part-time job. With three children to feed, she had gone on government assistance but couldn’t afford to keep a car to get the children to school.
Rhett had visited the family, pretending to be an attorney. He claimed her husband had left a decent estate and didn’t want her to know about it. It was only a contingency in case something like this ever happened. The estate consisted of twenty-five thousand dollars and a used car.
Rhett wondered if Starlight had ever found out about his visit to them. He doubted it, as they never followed up with survivors after a contract had been completed. The man deserved to die, but Starlight never considered the families. They were always left to fend for themselves.
“Sir, your ID please.”
Rhett noticed for the first time that the line was gone and it was his turn. He glanced down to the ID and then to the couple
on the other side walking down the corridor to their plane. He put the ID back in his pocket and turned around without a word, heading out of the terminal.
He opened the driver’s side door of the first car he saw, a Mitsubishi. The driver was staring at Rhett with his mouth open when Rhett opened the door and pulled him out. The man resisted. Rhett forced him to the ground with a sweep.
“Report it stolen. They’ll find it abandoned.”
He jumped into the car, and drove off.
CHAPTER 15
Stephanie Johnson paid for her items at Neiman Marcus and glanced to the bodyguard that stood by her side. He was far enough away that he didn’t crowd her space and in fact Stephanie had forgotten that he was with her until just now. At a hundred and fifty an hour, she expected nothing less.
She had tried to strike up a conversation with him about other people he had guarded but he had replied, “I’m here to save your life. Not be your friend.”
Stephanie had considered requesting another one, but he was so professional and on top of things that she decided she could take a little rudeness in exchange for ability.
As they left the store and hailed a cab, Stephanie called her husband’s cell.
“What do you want?”
“I was just checking in on you.”
“Why?”
“Why? Paul, I was shot at.”
“They said it could’ve been a drive-by at the wrong house.”
“This is New York. How many drive-bys do you hear about?”
“Look I’m busy. Did you need something?”
She exhaled. “I remember when we were inseparable. Now some psycho tries to kill me and you couldn’t care less.”
“You’re the one that wants the divorce, not me.”
“Did you sign the paperwork?”
“Yeah, I signed it. I sent it back to your attorney and he said it would be submitted today. So I guess I’m free.”
“You’re free? You’re free, you fucking asshole?”
“Hey fuck you. I was a great husband. You’re the one that drove me away. I did everything right.”
She climbed into the cab, the bodyguard getting in beside her. “Goodbye, Paul. I hope you find what it is you’re looking for.”
“Whatever.”
She hung up and replaced the phone in her pocket. Absently staring out the window, she watched the crowds. Nameless and faceless, they walked without noticing each other. As if they were all alone in a city packed with people.
She hadn’t really thought about what she was going to do now that the marriage was over. Her goal of the divorce had so consumed her that she didn’t have the mental energy to think about anything else. At the realization that she could do whatever she wanted now, she perked up a little and a grin came over her face.
“I want to go Hawaii,” she told her bodyguard. “I don’t think I need you to come with me there.”
“Your contract states I go where you go.”
She shrugged. “Do you have a family? Someone that’s going to wonder where you are?”
“No.”
Silence consumed the cab for another twenty minutes until they arrived at her friend’s condo. Stephanie paid and they headed into the building, toward the elevators.
The condos were upscale and a security guard sat at a booth up front. He nodded to them as they walked past.
The elevator ride, like most of her day, was spent in silence. Stepping off onto the twenty-second floor, they walked down the hallway and rang the doorbell on the nearest door. A woman in a tight black dress, with jewelry over every inch of her manicured and tanned hands, answered.
“Come here, sweetie,” she said, hugging her. “How you holding up?”
“Great actually,” Stephanie said. “I feel relieved. A little sad, but mostly relieved.”
“And who’s this?”
“Thomas. Thomas, this is my friend Cindy. If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to speak to her in private.” Before he could protest, she shut the door.
The condo was elegantly decorated, but to Stephanie, it felt like a hotel room. Considering the number of men Cindy had coming through here, maybe that was the look she was going for. They sat and Stephanie ran her fingers over the leopard-print blanket thrown over the white sofa.
“I never liked Paul,” Cindy said. “I didn’t tell you this, but at your wedding, I got the feeling he was hitting on me.”
“I’m sure he was.”
She rose and walked to the kitchen, returning with two glasses of wine. “Can I ask you something personal? Why’d you marry him? You’re ten times smarter than me and I saw he was a sleazeball the first time I met him.”
“I don’t know. It was a combination of loneliness and his charm I guess.”
“Well I hope you skinned him in the divorce.”
“He doesn’t have any money,” she said, sipping her wine. “It was all my money.”
“Well did you at least—”
A loud thump sounded against the door. It was sudden enough that both women looked over. Cindy took another sip of wine and then rose to see what it was. She opened the door but didn’t see anyone out in the hall.
Shutting the door and locking it, she said, “Your bodyguard’s not there.”
“He probably went for a walk or something. I actually need a little break from him.”
“So,” Cindy said, sitting back down, “what were we talking about? Oh yeah, Paul being a piece of shit.”
“I—”
The doorbell rang. Cindy placed her glass down and swore under her breath as she walked to the door and opened it. Outside, several men stood staring at her. The one closest to her wore a suit and was balding with glasses. He smiled as he pushed his way past her.
“Excuse me,” Cindy said, grabbing his shoulder.
The man twisted around and flicked her wrist in a way that sent waves of pain through her. She yelped as another man came up behind her and pressed his hand against her mouth. Once all the men were inside the condo, they shut the door behind them.
“Hello, Congresswoman,” the man with glasses said. “Please sit back down.”
Stephanie watched as the man holding Cindy thrust out his tongue and licked her ear before putting it in his mouth and sucking on it.
“Who are you?” she said, lowering herself back down.
“My name is Caleb. I’m here to spend the afternoon with you.”
She glanced from Cindy back to the man. “What do you want with me?”
He grinned. “Haven’t you figured it out yet? We just want you to die.” He pulled out a thick knife with a serrated edge.
Stephanie flung the wine glass in his face and darted for the balcony. Before she could reach it, the man jumped on top of her as two other men ran over and held her arms and legs. They flipped her around as Caleb cut her blouse off.
Stephanie closed her eyes and screamed. Time seemed to slow. She felt warmth on her face and realized that the men’s grips had loosened. She opened her eyes, and saw that half of Caleb’s head was gone.
One of the men jumped up and immediately fell to the ground as the balcony’s glass doors shattered and rained glass over her. A hole appeared in the man’s neck. The other men scattered, ducking behind furniture and fleeing into the other rooms. Stephanie glanced behind her, out over the balcony.
Rhett peered through the scope as Stephanie’s countenance came into focus. She came out onto the balcony, her face white. She was suffering from shock. Rhett pulled away from her and scanned the condo. Two men were dead: three more were hiding. One was waiting outside the building near the front entrance.
“Come on,” he whispered to himself, “get outta there. Get out.”
Stephanie stood motionless, staring off into space. The other woman in the condo, crying, ran up and grabbed her, pulling her for the door. Rhett saw a pistol rise behind the couch, swing around, and aim for the two women. He fired into the man’s wrist, blowing the hand clean off. The man screamed
as Rhett fired another shot into his open mouth, spattering brain matter on the clean walls behind him.
The women got to the door and Rhett lost sight of them as they sprinted down the hall toward the elevators. He fired two more rounds into the condo, aiming at nothing, letting the men know he was still there. Then he left the rifle and ran to the staircase leading down to the street.
By the time Rhett got to the sidewalk, Stephanie and the other woman were running out of the building. The sixth man was leaning against a tree smoking. He saw the women and let them run past him. Slowly, he threw his cigarette on the ground and began to jog behind them. He pulled a firearm out of his waistband.
Rhett pulled out his pistol and readied to fire when he felt an impact like a truck against his back. The wind was knocked out of him and he flew to the ground. Someone was on top of him. He felt the burning sting of a bullet enter his arm and saw the silenced pistol that was pressed against his flesh. Then the pistol was rising toward his face.
Rhett grabbed the gun with both hands. He grunted as he pushed the barrel back toward his attacker. The man forced his entire weight against it, turning it back toward Rhett. The barrel was coming up to his face again. Rhett couldn’t push it away at the angle he was at, but just as the barrel came up to his jaw and the man squeezed the trigger, Rhett twisted his head away. The round shot into the sidewalk, splintering bits of concrete into his face, and ricocheted into the road, hitting a passing car. The car stopped.
Rhett wrapped his legs around the man’s waist and pulled him down so his head was chest-level with him. He reached down and thrust his thumb into the man’s eye as far as it would go, popping the eyeball out of the socket.
The man screamed and loosened his grip on the pistol. Rhett forced it down, and fired. The round entered at the top of the skull and lodged in the man’s mouth. Rhett rolled the corpse off himself, running past the crowd that had started to gather and after Stephanie.
Diary of an Assassin Page 5
