TEENAGE ASSASSIN: Episodes 1 to 4 *** ONLY $0.99 FOR THE HOLIDAYS - REG $3.99!!! ***

by Taylor, M. W.

  I switched my mind over to Francis and how I was going to solve that problem. Obviously with Eddie helping me, things were going to be a lot easier, but I still needed to come up with a plan. Luckily, I had the beginnings of one already brewing in my mind. The dream may have slipped out of my grasp, but I had the start of a solution to the Francis problem in it’s place. Not a bad trade-off, especially since I was pretty sure the answers from my dream would come back to me at some point too.

  Substituting Eddie for Francis posed a couple of minor wrinkles to be ironed out, but nothing that wasn’t doable. The biggest thing was making sure Eddie looked enough like Francis that he didn’t scare off our assailant until we had a chance to corner him. Luckily, Eddie was almost exactly the same size and weight as Francis, so I didn’t figure that was going to be much of a problem.

  I also figured that we’d make things easy on ourselves by setting the trap at night. Trying to look like someone else in broad daylight can be tricky with the best of help, but at night the odds shifted and became much more favorable. Darkness made it easy to blend into the shadows. By keeping the lighting low and facing away from it, Eddie should have no problem luring in the assailant. By the time he was close enough to realize that Eddie wasn’t Francis, it would be too late.

  Back to my basics. KISS. Keep It Simple Stupid. The simpler the better. Less to screw up. We’d stash Francis away somewhere safe, add a few hand-picked bodyguards of my choosing just to be extra careful, and then Eddie could play Francis for the evening at Francis’ apartment. With any luck, we’d catch the bastard on the first night, but even if we didn’t, I had the feeling it wasn’t going to be long before he made his move. The difference was, this time I’d be waiting for him.

  A smile crossed my face as I imagined the look on his when he realized he’d been set up. I wondered if he’d even be worried at first after the initial shock had passed, and he realized he was being confronted by a girl. I had a sneaking suspicion he wouldn’t be, and I was looking forward to showing him just how wrong about that he was.

  Which brought up another point… how was I planning on dealing with him? The easy thing to do would be to incapacitate him quickly with either a stun gun or a tranquilizer. No fuss, no muss. Easy and efficient with very little margin for error.

  Of course, that wasn’t exactly the most fun way of doing things though, and I was kinda ’thinking this freak deserved a little of his own medicine before I cashed him out permanently. The pain and suffering he’d put Francis through was over the top, even from my experience, and I’d seen a lot of the worst kind of people doing some of the worst things imaginable to other human beings.

  I was going to have to kick this around a bit. From a purely professional perspective, I should just take him out quickly and quietly with either a stun gun or a tranquilizer. Quick and easy. Low risk. Problem solved. That was definitely what I should do from a professional standpoint.

  But then I also had that side of me that often took things a little too personally, and that side of me tended to butt heads with the professional side on occasions just like this one. Which one was going to win this time was anybody’s guess.

  In any case, no matter how that argument ended up, I was still going to have a body to deal with. Couldn’t just leave a dead guy lying around Francis’ apartment, now could I? Especially not after everything Francis had been through. He didn’t need to be dealing with the cops and having to play twenty questions, especially since I was going to be the answer they were looking for to the question of who had killed their John Doe.

  No, it was better all around if there was no body. Dude was just going to disappear like he’d never even existed, and I had just the idea in mind to pull it off.

  Your mind is probably flashing through all the coolest ways you’ve seen a body disposed of on your favorite tv shows or movies, and there’s probably a few plausible options there too. TV and movies are great these days. Some of the ideas and plot lines they come up with are pretty smart. I’ve even stolen a few of them for my own uses, usually with a little improvisation of course.

  The first idea that popped into my head was to just dispose of the body right there in Francis’ apartment. Not that hard really. Wheel in a 50 gallon drum of sulfuric acid disguised as something less conspicuous like motor oil or glass cleaner, throw the body in the bathtub, and fill it up with acid. Wait until the body is gone, and then pull the plug. Problem solved.

  Not a bad idea, but there’s two things I don’t like about it. First off, I want to minimize the exposure to Francis, and that means getting the body out faster than that. Yes, I know I’m probably being a little paranoid here as there’s virtually no chance of discovery while the body is dissolving, but it isn’t zero chance.

  I thought about modifying the acid approach by dissolving the body somewhere else in the building. When I initially scouted out the place, I noticed there was an old storage room in the basement that looked like it hadn’t been used in years. It was damp and moldy, which was probably why no one used it, but that was perfect for my purposes.

  Problem with dissolving the body in the basement was still time though. I wasn’t comfortable just leaving the body to dissolve in the basement storage room, no matter how unlikely it was that someone would go in there, and I didn’t want to sit around in a moldy storage room waiting for the acid to do it’s thing.

  So basically, I needed to get the body out of the building to dispose of it. I’ve used a few approaches to moving dead bodies in the past, and I had a couple in mind now that seemed to be the best choices.

  I could wheel it out in a large rolling suitcase. Once you break the joints, you’d be surprised how easy it is to stuff a person into a suitcase. The trick is make sure you do it BEFORE rigor mortis sets in. If you try to do it afterwards, bending the arms and legs is a bitch.

  The beauty of the rolling suitcase method is that I’ve often had a doorman or bellhop wheel it out for me, which always strikes me as funny because it they knew what they were wheeling around, they’d probably lose their minds.

  Option two was to wheel the body out in a wheelchair. Wrap the head in some bandages, and prop him up in the chair, and off you go. People naturally avert their eyes when they see injured or deformed people, so the risk was very minimal.

  Option three, and I tend to like this one, is to stuff the body into an appliance like a dishwasher or freezer, and wheel it out disguised as servicemen. Nobody notices blue collar workers going about their job. Really, we don’t even need a dishwasher or freezer, just the box.

  I decided I like option three because it makes for the inconspicuous use of a delivery van which makes things even easier. Plus, unlike option one, I don’t have to worry about breaking all the joints to stuff him into the appliance or box as it’s more than big enough to accommodate a body as is.

  So option three it is, with option one, the rolling suitcase, as a back-up we can fall back on if option three becomes unusable for some reason. You ALWAYS have a back-up plan because you never know when Mr. Murphy will decide to stick his nose into things and screw up your plans.

  As for timing, there’s no time like now. Might as well get this taken care of and out of the way. I’ve still got to deal with Demario, so the faster I can solve Francis’ problem for him, the faster I can move on to my next job.

  A quick call to Eddie confirms tonight is no problem for him, and another quick call to Francis confirms everything’s a go for this evening. I kill two birds with one stone with the call to Eddie because Eddie’s also going to take care of the bodyguards for me.

  That’s another beautiful thing about Eddie’s gym. You meet some of the most interesting people in a place like his, and we’re going to need the help of a couple of the regulars tonight.

  I’ve known Frank and Marko almost as long as I’ve known Eddie, and they’ve helped me out more than once before. Ex-military, they’ve both worked for organizations that you’ve never heard of before because they do
n’t officially exist. Let’s just say that they can handle themselves in pretty much any situation I could possibly throw at them, and we’ll leave it at that. Francis will be in safe hands tonight.

  Another phone call to Francis’ friend, my former client who referred him to me, and I’ve got a place to stash Francis for tonight. The added bonus is he’ll have supportive company, and I’m not introducing another unknown variable into the mix since I already know her.

  Things are coming together quickly, and I’m starting to get excited, the way I always do when my mind starts gearing up for a job. I make a couple more calls, and when I’m done, the delivery van is taken care of, as well as the packaging solution for the disposal of the body.

  Professional me wins on the take-down front, and I check both my stun guns to make sure they’re fully charged and ready to go. I thought about bringing both a stun gun and a tranquilizer, but decide to stick with both stun guns. I don’t need two, but I’ve always believed in having backup on hand just in case.

  I’m also going to be carrying my carbon fiber, folding combat knife, like I always do. It’s six inch carbon fiber blade is sharper than a razor blade and doesn’t weigh much more. As an added bonus, not only does the fact that it’s carbon fiber make it light as a feather, it also makes it undetectable to metal detectors and other types of scanners. Perfect for getting through security checkpoints.

  When it comes to knives, a lot of people think bigger is better. I say let ’em think that. I prefer smaller and lighter. If you can’t kill someone with a six inch blade, you probably couldn’t do it with a 2 foot blade either.

  And of course I’ll also have my pithing rod in my boot too. Just like my combat knife, I never go out on a job without it. To the uninitiated, it just looks like a thin metal rod. Most people wouldn’t even know what it is if they saw it, and that’s actually worked in my favor more than once. It’s carbon fiber too, for all the same reasons that my knife is. Nothing like being able to pass through security heavily armed with no one the wiser.

  Ah, you want to know what a pithing rod is. Guess you’re not into science much, or you probably wouldn’t be asking.

  A pithing rod is used to sever the connection between the spinal cord and the brain at the base of the neck. It used to be a pretty standard procedure in the slaughter of animals, but not so much these days. Regardless, it’s still a great tool for an assassin. Done properly, you can kill someone quickly and efficiently without them even knowing what hit them, all without leaving any but the smallest puncture mark too.

  Truth be told, my pithing rod is actually a knitting needle, albeit a very expensive, high end, carbon fibre, knitting needle. Keep it simple, right? Easily sourced. Extremely effective. Naturally camouflaged. I always carry it in my left boot. Being right handed, I can reach for it and draw it faster to strike with it in my left boot, kinda’ like why a gunfighter holstered his pistol on the opposite side of his shooting hand.

  Of course, just like the best of the Old West, I’m pretty much equal with either hand. I favor the right, but I’m really ambidextrous when it comes down to it. I’ve trained myself to be able to use my left hand just as well as my right, a skill that’s saved my butt more than once.

  I debated whether or not to bring anything else. I’m not against the use of firearms, but they’re harder to explain away if one gets stopped, and also costlier to dispose of if one needs to. Money isn’t really a concern, especially considering the kinds of money I charge for a job, but the types of specialized firearms I tend to favor are a lot more expensive than your average pistol or rifle, and they’re harder to come by too.

  On top of that, I tend to get attached to my firearms, and it irritates me when I have to dispose of one, kinda’ like having to dump an old friend. In any case, I decide it’s probably better to error on the side of caution (or paranoia, depending on how you look at it), so I’ll be carrying tonight.

  You’ll probably laugh and thinks it’s cliché when you hear what my handgun of choice is. Whatever. We all have our little quirks, and one of mine is James Bond. Love him. Seen all the movies many, many times.

  My favorite Bond? Daniel Craig. Prior to him, I would’ve said Sean Connery, no question, but since Craig’s debut in Casino Royale, Connery has taken a backseat. Daniel Craig is just the perfect Bond. None of that sissy bitch kind of personality like Roger Moore or Pierce Brosnan. Just hard-hitting, adrenaline pumping, action.

  So yeah, my favorite pistol is a Walther PPK/S 9mm, just like James. It’s small, accurate, extremely reliable, and quite a work of art in and of itself. And oh yeah, for it’s small size, it’s got some serious stopping power. I’ve spent hours on the shooting range with mine, and I can empty a clip into a three inch cluster from 100 yards before you can blink, so it’s not just nostalgia for my favorite movies. The PPK/S is an amazing weapon, and I seem to get along very nicely with it.

  Even though I’m a big fan of Bond, I don’t carry the way he does though. My standard rig is a tactical dual shoulder holster that I’ve had specially tailored to fit me perfectly. It’s also had a couple of slight modifications to suit my specific draw style as well. What can I say? I like nice things.

  And that ought to do it. Combat knife, pithing rod, stun guns, and the twins, my Walther PPK/S’s. Should be more than enough for the night’s festivities. Probably overkill, but hey. Better to have too much food when you’re throwing a party than too little, right?

  ***

  I took a cab to pickup the delivery van. I felt a stab of regret as I glanced at my helmet and leathers on the way out the door, but it simply wasn’t practical to take the Ninja to pick-up the van. I’d have to leave it there, and I wasn’t sure on the timing of the van’s return so a cab was the better option. Of course, that didn’t mean I had to like it, and I promised myself I’d take the Ninja out for a spin as soon as Francis’ problem was taken care of.

  I told the cab to drop me off a couple blocks away from where I was picking up the van. Always better to keep information compartmentalized. By walking the last couple blocks to the van, the cabbie that dropped me off had no idea what my actual destination was.

  Everything looked copasetic as I walked. Nothing appeared out of place. No one seemed to be paying any attention to me, in fact, there was hardly anyone around at all.

  The van was exactly where my contact had said it would be, parked in an alley between two buildings on forty-third street. I glanced over at it as I walked past and continued down to the end of the block before stopping momentarily as though I had lost my way, and then turning around and walking back to the van.

  The key was taped up under the rear bumper, just far enough in that you’d have to know what you were looking for to find it. I checked the alley one more time before getting into the van and pulling slowly out onto the street. One could never be too careful.

  I was about to turn at the corner when I saw him. He was driving a bright yellow Camaro, one of the new ones like Bumblebee from the Transformers movie. The car itself wasn’t what caused my internal alarms to go off. It was flashy and obvious, the last kind of vehicle I’d use for a job. It was the guy driving it that was making my Spidey sense tingle.

  I watched the rear view mirror as I made my turn, waiting to see if the Camaro followed behind me. It didn’t. It pulled up to the stop sign and seemed to hesitate just a little too long before the driver put his turn signal on and turned the opposite way.

  Most people wouldn’t have given it a second thought, but there was something about the driver that was bugging me. The hesitation at the stop sign was piling on to my suspicion too. Again, most people wouldn’t have thought anything of it. Just someone unfamiliar with the area, not sure which way he should be going.

  And I might have thought the same if it wasn’t for the driver. I could swear he was watching me drive away before making his mind up to turn in the opposite direction, almost like he could see me watching him from the rear view.

  I continu
ed to drive, my eyes flashing back to the rear view mirror every minute or so. I was on high alert, all my senses peaking, the adrenaline flowing. I still couldn’t put my finger on what it was about the driver that had set me off, but it wasn’t something I was prepared to dismiss offhand.

  I’ve learned to trust my internal alarms. There’s usually a good reason when they go off, and just because I don’t immediately know why, experience has proved it to be foolish to not pay attention to them.

  My mind raced as I drove, running through possibilities about the Camaro’s driver.

  Had I seen him before and my subconscious mind was trying to tell me?

  Was there something about him that I’d seen but was overlooking that my brain was trying to warn me about?

  Frustrated, I continued to glance in the rear view as I drove, but nothing was surfacing, either in my head or behind me. The road behind me was empty, and the answers to the questions I had about the Camaro’s driver weren’t coming to me either.

  I ended up driving around for a while, doubling back on the way I’d come a few times, effectively circling around before proceeding again, checking my rearview all the while I was doing so. I don’t like unknown variables, especially when they pop up when I’m about to do a job, and this one was really bugging me for some reason.

  Finally, I continued on to my destination, satisfied I wasn’t being followed, but unable to shake that nervous tingle that seemed to be dancing on the back of my neck.

  My next stop was to pick-up Eddie. I pulled up to the intersection of Queen and John, and Eddie hopped into the passenger seat. I’d arranged for him to meet me here instead of picking him up at the gym as I didn’t want the van seen around his place. Compartmentalization again. It’s hard to play connect the dots if you don’t see the dots in the first place.