TEENAGE ASSASSIN: Episodes 1 to 4 *** ONLY $0.99 FOR THE HOLIDAYS - REG $3.99!!! ***
Page 6
I checked my iPhone to see where Demario was now. Gotta love technology these days. No need for a monitor or special piece of equipment. Just download the tracking app to my iPhone, and presto.
It looked like Demario was done shopping. My iPhone was showing him at the Delta downtown, a higher priced hotel. Unless I missed my guess, he was probably still in the company of the two ladies I saw him shopping with. Maybe having a nice little dinner at the restaurant downstairs, or maybe they'd skipped dinner altogether and headed straight for their room. Either way, I figured he was going to be there for a while anyways.
I pocketed my iPhone and headed for the nearest on-ramp to the highway. Demario wasn't going anywhere, and I was going to take a little me time on my new toy. I wanted to open her up a little and see just what she could do, and I figured a run down the Interstate was the perfect spot to do that.
The ZX6-R purred as I twisted the throttle coming off the on-ramp onto the Interstate. It was like she knew what was coming and was excited to stretch her legs. I checked over my shoulder for traffic and gave the throttle a further shot of gas. The bike shot forward at what seemed like an impossibly fast speed, passing the cars in the lane beside me like they were standing still.
I yelled into my helmet as adrenalin flooded my body. This thing was amazing! The feeling of power was incredible. It was like I was a god riding on the back of some mythical beast. Time and space seemed to slow down, and I felt like I was one with the machine, like it was an extension of my body that was magically attached to me.
Weighing in at just over 400 pounds, my new Ninja had an incredible 94 horsepower. Combine that with the fact that I'm much lighter than your average rider, and the thing was insanely fast! It moved like a shark slicing through the water, as quick and agile anything. I could get used to this really fast!
A new Dodge Charger pulled up beside me in the next lane and kept pace. The guy driving grinned when he realized it was a girl driving the bike beside him, and then the Charger big motor roared as he punched the gas. I laughed, dropped a gear, and twist the throttle hard.
The Charger was fast, but the ZX6-R was faster, MUCH faster. I shot past him and was gone before he knew what hit him. The smile on his face disappeared in my rearview mirror as the gap between us grew. I grinned inside my helmet. Not only was his big, gas guzzling muscle car just beaten by a bike, it was beaten by a girl driving that bike. My grin grew even wider as I imagined the look on the guy's face now. Testosterone, you gotta love it!
I played on the Interstate for another twenty minutes or so, and then took the next exit. A moment later, and I was heading back the way I had come on the other side of the Interstate, eating up the pavement at a wickedly fast pace.
Back at my apartment, I shut off the bike and unfastened my helmet. The underground parking garage of my building was nowhere near as nice as Dr. Harry's, but it was still much better and much more secure than an outdoor lot like many apartment buildings had. Plus, it was out of sight of prying eyes.
I glanced back at my new toy before heading into the stairwell to climb the stair to my apartment. The spot was mine. I'd had it since I moved in, sometimes using it for one thing or another. Now all I needed was to get a cover for the bike. No point tempting some delinquent with eye candy he couldn't resist.
Laying my leathers across the back of a chair, I sat down and unzipped my boots. Already my mind was racing with ideas for the task at hand. Or should I say tasks at hand. Two clients at once wasn't unheard of for me, but it did present some challenges, especially with a situation like this where both were in danger and feared for their lives.
Looking at which one was the highest priority, I figured Francis was in the most immediate danger. Emily was definitely at risk, but at the moment, Demario didn't seem like he was an immediate risk, especially since he thinks he's in love with her. Francis, on other hand, could have another visit from his attacker at any time, and when he did, it was likely to be his last.
Still, my mind kept going back to Demario for some reason, playing out scenarios in my mind. Long range shot to the head with a sniper rifle. Car bomb. Slit throat. Car accident. Lethal injection.
The possibilities were almost endless. It was amazing how creative my mind got when it came to a job. And yet, it was a solution to Francis' problem that I really should be coming up with answers for.
Like a one trick pony, my mind kept on track with Demario. Make it look like a mob hit, like one someone in one of the other families had it out for him. Easy enough to lay the groundwork for, and it would keep anyone from possibly looking any deeper and getting any whiff of a trail back to me. The mob's connections ran deep through just about everything these days, and even though I was thorough, it would make things that much easier for me if I presented them with an obvious answer.
Really, this was the best route to take. If I laid out the groundwork ahead of time prior to taking out Demario, it was almost guaranteed that the blame would be laid at the feet of whatever mob thug I pointed the trail at. As much as the mob liked to think of themselves as legitimate businessmen these days, murder was still a fairly common occurrence.
OK, so Demario was going to be relatively easy. No need to make it look like an accident or death by natural causes like Dr. Harry. I had to focus on Francis. He was the one in immediate danger, and the solution to his problem might be a little more complicated. Or not.
It was really just a question of identifying his assailant. Once that was done, the rest was fairly easy. The hard part was going to be figuring out who he was. I really had nothing to go on. Francis had been unable to shed any light on his attacker's identity, and he wasn't any better at providing any possibilities for who might have a grudge against him or want him dead.
I was pretty much left with one solution. I had to bait the attacker into striking again, draw him out so I could identify him. Easier said than done, especially if I wanted to keep Francis safe. There was really only one solution I could think of that would do both. A decoy.
It was a fairly safe assumption that Francis' attacker had been watching him. Every time he'd attacked, he seemed to have known when and where to catch Francis alone and off guard. He had to have studied Francis and his daily routine in order to know that kind of information. Of course, it was even possible he had help, was even working as part of a team, although I didn't really think that was the case.
My gut told me this guy was working alone, and that he had some kind of personal vendetta against Francis. It was entirely Francis didn't even know this guy, that whatever his problem with Francis was, was one that he'd projected onto him as a result of some kind of delusional or psychotic break.
A lot of times, agencies like the FBI could profile these kind of sick bastards, pretty accurately too, but then there were times where my kind of profile fit most accurately. My profile tends to read pretty much the same a lot of the time. Some people are just sick, messed up, pieces of garbage that are a waste of good air.
Car bomb. That's what my mind kept jumping back to for Demario. Blow him into next week. Set it up to look like payback or a vendetta from a rival mob family, or even just a single family member. Lay out a subtle sequence of events leading up to the explosion, not totally obvious, but easy enough for someone with a half a brain to piece together.
And there I go again. I'm trying to concentrate on the solution to Francis' problem, and my brain keeps working out the details to the Demario job. Blame it on multi-tasking. You know some of the best authorities on the subject say multi-tasking is a load of BS, that the best, most effective way to get a job done is to work on one thing at a time, concentrate all your brain power on a single problem. Makes sense actually, although I tend to multi-task just fine when I need too.
OK. So I needed to set up a decoy to lure out Francis' attacker. Shouldn't be too hard, although I did have to figure out who to use as a decoy. Basically I had two options. I could find someone I knew to do the job, or I could farm it out and
hire somebody.
If I hired somebody, I could go one of two ways. I could hire a pro, either a bodyguard or a mercenary, soldier for hire type, or I could use an actor. There were pros and cons either way.
A pro costs more, and usually will want to know more information about the job up front, but then they're also aware of the potential risks, not to mention much better able to deal with them if things go South.
An actor doesn't cost much at all. There's literally thousands of wannabe actors and actresses all over the place, working in fast food joints and coffee shops, laundromats, Walmarts, hotels, and other low-paid, bottom of the rung jobs. Supply greatly outweighs demand, hence they're available for next to nothing.
They also don't tend to ask too many questions as they're just happy to get a paying job. Pay a little extra, and you're virtually guaranteed they'll do what they're told, no questions asked. Problem is, they're usually not well equipped to deal with the potential risks of the job going South. Most out of work actors don't happen to be skilled in self-defence on the side.
It's a bit of an ethical dilemma. There's definitely something to be said for using someone who doesn't ask too many questions, but then there's the worry that I could get an innocent person hurt. There's also the possibility that in a situation like this, the attacker may sense something is wrong if I use a pro for a decoy.
There are little tells that a pro has a hard time hiding that the attacker might pick up on. A pro carries himself differently, more self-assured, confident, more measured in his movements. Little things that the average person might not notice, but that Francis' attacker might. The guy is obviously smart enough to do watch his target ahead of time and plan out his attacks. It's entirely possible he'd notice something wasn't right if I put a pro in as a decoy, especially since he's somewhat familiar with Francis' by this point.
Tough call.
I'll sleep on it. Odds are my subconscious will have figured it out by the time I wake up.
Normally I don't have so much on my plate all at once. I usually just work one job at a time, mostly because it just works out that way. And then there's times like this where I've got two jobs on the go, just because that's the way it works out.
This isn't my first time working two jobs at once. I've done it a couple of times before. Fortunately, I've never had to work more than that all at once. I'm not sure I could handle three jobs all at the same time, and I don't even want to think about four. That's one of the downsides of working alone. There's only so much of me to go around, and only so much I can do in a 24 hour day.
Obviously school has to be put on hold at the moment. I'll deal with that tomorrow. Maybe call in sick with something serious that'll take a while to get better from, or else I'll just make up some trip or vacation that I'm out of the country on. Doesn't really matter as long as they know before hand that I won't be there. I'm a straight A, no trouble student, the kind that every teacher and vice-principal loves to have. There won't be any questions asked if I'm away for a bit.
***
I woke without an answer, which is a little unusual for me. Normally, I'd expect to open my eyes and know exactly what I was going to do. That's just the way my brain usually works. I did, however, know exactly what I was going to do next.
I was out of bed, clothes on, and leaving my apartment by 6:15am. Despite not having an answer to my decoy problem yet, I was strangely refreshed and ready to face the day. Maybe it was the thought of getting back on the ZX6-R and cracking that throttle open. Maybe it was the fact that I was on my way to see Eddie to get his take on things. Maybe it was both.
Regardless, the cool morning air on my face felt good as I weaved the Ninja in and out of traffic, making short work of the distance from my apartment to Eddie's gym. I was almost a little sad that the ride was over so quickly as I pulled up at the gym, parked my new toy and went inside.
The place was pretty busy, which you might think was a little strange for this early in the morning, but it's not. Eddie's is busy pretty much all the time, right from when he opens the doors at 5 am. It would've been strange to walk in and find it quiet.
Eddie was ringside watching a pair of twenty-something up and coming fighters sparring with each other. He smiled when he saw me heading towards him and turned his gaze back to the ring. I stood beside him and watched for a few moments before saying anything.
"Not bad."
Eddie nodded and said, "Yeah, not bad. Not bad at all."
The two fighters were two of his best protégés. I knew them better than most people I saw around the gym, which is saying a lot for me. Then again, I'd fought each of them more than once, and although I'd beaten them both every time, I respected each of them. They were good, damn good.
"Here to fight?" Eddie asked.
"Maybe," I replied. "Mostly I wanted your advice on something."
"Shoot," Eddie said, his eyes twinkling with curiosity.
I ran down the Francis problem, quickly summarizing the situation and the conclusions I'd come to. I spoke quietly, and Eddie did the same, but it was more out of respect for the fighters in the ring than out of worry of being overheard. Everyone in here was concentrating on their what they were doing, especially the two in the ring.
Eddie watched his fighters strike and counter-strike for a few moments without saying anything. I could tell he was mulling over everything I'd just told him, making sure he'd considered every angle before giving me his reply. When he did, I was a little caught off guard, although, in hindsight, I should've seen it coming.
"I'll do it," he said, turning to look at me.
I stared at him for moment, absorbing what he'd just said and letting my initial surprise die down. I could see by the look on his face that he could see I wasn't expecting his reply. I could also see by the mischievous twinkle in his eye that he was amused by this.
If it had been anyone else, I would've just said no. It was too dangerous, and I didn't like the carefully compartmentalized parts of my life crossing over. But it wasn't anyone else. If it had been, I wouldn't have been having this conversation in the first place.
I turned and watched the fighters in the ring again for moment. Eddie did the same.
"Tonight," I finally said.
"You're the boss," Eddie replied, his eyes still following his protégés in the ring.
I smiled to myself, a little unsure about how I felt about this recent turn of events, but also aware that a part of me was quite pleased for some reason. It was both puzzling and satisfying at the same time. At the very least, I'd eliminated all the cons from the equation.
With Eddie there was no risk of exposure or too many questions, and there certainly wasn't any concern about him being able to handle the situation if things went South.
Teenage Assassin: Episode 3
Written by
M.W.Taylor
© Copyright M.W.Taylor 2013
All rights reserved.
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I woke up with the vivid picture of a car explosion blowing up in my head. You know how you’re dreaming about something, then you wake up suddenly, and it’s like what you were dreaming was actually real? So real that you close your eyes and try to get back there, back into the dream, like maybe if you close them fast enough you won’t be awake and your dream won’t have been interrupted?
Except, as usual, no matter how hard I tried to reach out in my mind and bring the dream back, it wasn’t happening. I never seem to have any luck when it comes to dreams. When I wake up from one, that’s it. Some people say they can close their eyes and get right back into it, just like as if they’d hit pause on a movie, but it never seems to work like that for me.
This morning was no different. All I had left was a picture in my mind of the car blowing up in one hell of a big explosion. Normally I wouldn’t have even cared. I would’ve just got out of bed and got on with my day, not giving much thought to the dream that had just slipped away as my eyes opened and the day began. But this dream was different. The car that had blown up wasn’t just any car. It was Demario’s, and I had a feeling that I had just woken up with the answer to how I was going to deal with Demario, except that now I couldn’t remember it. All I could remember was the explosion.
Sighing, I made my way to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water. It would come back to me. The trick with these kind of things was to not keep trying to force it. When you can’t remember something, the unconscious mind has a way of playing games with you, so that the more you try to remember, the more elusive the memory becomes.