Waiting until Nasir was back behind him and not likely to be shot on accident, Miko aimed again and squeezed back the trigger. His entire body flinched and his heart began to race, recalling the sound as it boomed above him and Tola, ominous and terrifying like thunder getting closer with a storm. Until it hit them. He'd chomped down on his candy, shards of cinnamon melting in his mouth. The fence was bleeding.
“That was good.” Nasir placed both hands on Miko's shoulders, like he knew Miko needed that physical contact to feel safe, enclosed in the crawlspace. “Are you all right?”
Miko closed his eyes for a second and nodded. The blood was gone when he opened them. He'd made it in the circle, just a little off center. He would've hit Anton's heart, or at least his lung. Killed him just like Nasir had said, with no training, in a state of shock and grief, eight years old, using his left hand, his right hand in tatters. He was no longer scared.
“Did you notice where the cartridge ejected?”
Finding it by his right shoe, Miko picked it up and handed it to Nasir. It was still quite warm. “You want it?”
“No. I want you to be aware of it. This is a right-handed gun. The cartridge is meant to eject on the right side. If you shoot with your left hand it can hit you. It can burn you.” Nasir tossed it back in the dirt. “When I make you a gun, that will not happen. But if someone tries to use your gun maybe it will happen to them.” He smiled and nodded towards the circle. “Who did you think of when you fired?”
“The fence.”
Nasir smiled wider. It reminded Miko of that first glimpse of emotion he'd ever seen on Nasir's face, when he told him he would only kill bad people. “That is excellent, Miko. Work is work. Do not get emotional with your marks. They are only assignments.” He patted Miko's shoulder. “But this is practice. You have hundreds of bullets to go through by Friday. Enjoy yourself. Think of someone you want to kill.”
Miko raised the gun again and thought of Anton, grinning as he fired until it clicked back empty. Then he frowned when he realized how little he'd hit, looking helplessly to Nasir for guidance.
“Try not to bounce around so much.”
“I am excited.”
“I know. Reload.”
Loading the gun again, his speed increasing, his hands no longer awkward with the motion, Miko thought of Ophelia's parents and started shooting at the bottles instead. The sound of shattering glass encouraged him to stay still through his excitement, like applause at Ophelia's play.
Nasir was handing him another magazine before he realized he was out. “Her parents?”
“Yes. I will kill them some more.” He fired until that was empty too, then tried it one-handed, got hit with a flying cartridge just like Nasir told him, and finally took a break for the day.
They sat on the ground together, sharing a Coca Cola in a glass bottle to shoot later. Miko watched how Nasir looked at the spent cartridges, the broken glass, still attentive to Miko and even to the soda, but no longer smiling. “Nas?”
“Yes, Miko?”
“Why are you retired? You are not so much older than me. Hector did not retire until his eyes were so bad to see.”
“Silva needed someone to run the factory after his brother died.”
“Yes, but why you? Why not someone old who could not kill anymore. You can still.”
Nasir set down the bottle. “I killed people for fifteen years. That is nearly as long as you have been alive.”
Miko finished drinking it, resting his chin on his knees and staring inquisitively at Nasir. “You do not like?”
“It is not that. Sometimes I get very bad headaches when I've heard gunfire. Do you ever get headaches, thinking about what happened?”
“I have trouble sleeping. I have to be with someone or someplace small.”
“Yes, I know.” Nasir laughed. “You think I put you in the closet to be cruel?”
He blushed again. “I did think.”
“I may be a bad man, but I am not cruel. Would you like to practice some more?”
Miko didn't want to practice anymore. He wanted to assassinate. “Can I for real shoot associate on Friday?”
“No,” Nasir said without pause. “You will go out on Friday.”
“But what if he is rude to you again?”
“You think I can not handle him?”
“If you shoot him I am not burying him for you,” Miko grumbled.
“But your arms are so much stronger,” Nasir teased.
Holding the bottle with his left hand, Miko stood up and held out his other hand for Nasir. “You will shoot with me? I get you aspirin.”
Nasir grasped Miko's wrist and hauled himself to his feet. “Yes, Miko. You and I will be shooting together for some time.”
Back to Work
Miko: Age 27
“What the bloody hell was that for?” Simon shouted from the floor, holding his face to keep blood from dripping on his precious white carpet.
“Calling me 'little idiot,'” Miko said, looking up only to realize Nasir was standing right there with a look of disappointment. “Hector gave me permission to smack him in his smug face if he called me stupid,” Miko continued with his head down, thinking that maybe Hector had meant “stupid” specifically and not actually given permission for “little idiot” or “poison” after all.
Simon got to his feet, giving Miko a glare before turning back to Nasir, who matter-of-factly stated, “He is not an idiot,” and went to get Simon some ice. Nasir roughly handed a bag of frozen peas to Simon and came to embrace Miko. “What are you doing here?” he asked quietly.
“I am coming back to work.”
Nasir sighed. “That is not necessary.”
“Of course it is,” Simon muttered from behind his peas. “He's been on vacation for over a year.”
“He wasn't on vacation,” Nasir said. “And you damn well know it.” He squeezed Miko's shoulder sympathetically. “Did you make the list?”
“Yes! I have to write it again but I memorized.”
“Good.” Nasir went and got Miko some paper, and Ophelia's cat. It had gotten fat, but seemed healthy. And happy. It was purring. Miko petted it, feeling very sad that he'd left it behind and given it very little thought the entire time he was gone. Fee should've known not to leave a fragile life in his care.
Miko set it down on the sofa and started writing out the list again.
“What the bloody hell are you doing?” Simon shouted. “You can't...are you out of your fucking mind writing those names down?”
“You are helping him with this,” Nasir said to Simon. “Just like you said you would. Miko, what do we have?”
Miko excitedly went over the details, who was crossed out and why, and held up the list of suspects with pride. “You can narrow down more?” He smiled at Simon like he hadn't just punched the man to the floor.
Simon bitterly snatched it from his hand. “You got this from book releases?”
“Yes.” Miko hadn't mentioned Frank by name despite the overwhelming urge to brag about his friends.
“That's very clever. Who helped with it?”
Nasir cleared his throat.
“Oskar works for me now, it wasn't him. Dante is dead. So is Serge if I'm not mistaken. I could probably find out where Lorenzo was last Christmas, but I expect some quality work out of you. Are we clear?”
“What about the others?”
“I know nothing about the others.” Simon threw the paper to the coffee table. “Now get rid of this list. You should know better.”
Miko looked away, Simon once again knowing exactly what to say to cut him to the core. Hector would not have been pleased to know that Miko was talking about the things he'd been told, much less writing them down.
“I told him to make that list,” Nasir said. “Miko would never let it get compromised. He would protect it with his life.”
“That's not good enough,” Simon said, and he excused himself to go and get information for Miko's job.
Sitting down beside him, Nasir handed Miko back the list, saying nothing as Miko quietly chewed it up and swallowed it. “I wish you would've talked to me about this. Months ago.”
“He is your friend.”
“So are you.” Nasir smiled and put his arm around him.
Simon returned and handed Miko an envelope, purposefully keeping his eyes averted. Miko remembered then that he and Nasir were supposed to be lovers, and he hoped that really bothered him. “You'll be going to Italy. Maybe you'll run into your Claudius.”
Miko peered into the envelope but found nothing about a “Claudius,” and he didn't want to risk looking stupid by asking who it was. Then Nasir took the envelope from him. “I'll come with him.”
“Is that really necessary?” Simon asked.
“He's been out of the game for awhile.”
Miko brooded, thinking Nasir was talking bad about him, which hurt worse than Simon's rebuke.
“Fine. At least if you're there nothing should go wrong.”
Nasir stood up. “I will remind you, Simon, that I'm the one who trained Miko. Perhaps if you were a better handler to him he would not have the issues you find so objectionable.” He gave Simon a wide smile and added, “He never had these problems with Hector. I'll let you know when it's done.” Nasir held his hand out for Miko, who was having too much of a good time to immediately realize they were finished. “Let's go.”
“The cat likes you,” Miko said cheerfully, following Nasir outside. He was about to praise Nasir for how good he was with words when he remembered that Nasir had just insulted him as well. “You think I cannot work?”
“You came back to work so I wouldn't have to. If I stay here Simon will put me to work, which defeats the entire purpose. So I am coming with you.”
Miko blushed, embarrassed to have doubted Nasir in the first place. “You should not be working.”
“What else am I to do with myself, my friend? Find a nice chef and settle down? That is where you should be. How is Toby?”
“He is good. He helped me with the list.”
“The book release dates, was that his idea?”
Miko skipped a little in his enthusiasm. “It was Frank's. He called me. He speaks German!”
“Well either way, it looks like we're on to something.”
“Yes. And I will have my vengeance.” That made him skip even more. “Who is Claudius?”
“He's Hamlet's uncle. He killed Hamlet's father.”
The king of Denmark is rolling in his grave. “Does Hamlet kill Claudius?”
“Yes.” Nasir sighed. “But he also dies at the end.”
Miko sent Toby a postcard before they left London, and again when they got to Rome. There was an associate waiting for them at a cafe down the street from the train station, someone Miko had never seen before. Miko let Nasir be the one to communicate, a few words in Italian and then the man left them a bag that would contain guns.
They were really only for precautions, since the job was a straightforward strangulation. Miko wondered who the associate would arm next. Not Claudius. He would have to be working for Simon to use the man.
“Did you know him?” Miko asked as they walked away.
“No. You did not either?”
Miko shrugged, but it bothered him when he didn't know the stories. Especially now that Hector was gone. “Will you tell me a story, Nas?” he asked when they got to their hotel.
“Yes, so long as it is not Hamlet.”
Miko laughed. “Okay.”
Nasir held up his semiautomatic. “Simon taught me to shoot these. For all the weapons I had used, assault rifles and machetes, I had never fired a simple handgun.” He aimed it at the TV, then set it down. “It had been years since I'd heard gunfire. You know how your ears ring when it's fired close to your head?”
“Yes.”
“When I pulled that trigger it was all I could hear. They kept ringing, and I held my head and sat on the ground for a long time before it went away. Simon brought me a Coca Cola.” Nasir smiled at the memory of it. “He asked if I wanted to work, or if I was just trying to show him gratitude. He said I owed him nothing.”
Miko eyed the gun Nasir had put down, wanting to take it away from him and never let him touch it again.
“I said that if there were men out there like Leonard Kingsman I wanted to kill them all. Simon sat with me and he told me 'This is not war. You are no longer there. For this job you will be an executioner, just like you were with Leonard Kingsman.' He helped me up and we practiced until I stopped having to sit down after every shot.”
“It will be war. With the other assassins.”
Nasir stared off into the distance and nodded. He'd been saying that since Silva died. “A silent one. You would be dead before you knew they were there. That is why we have to act first.”
“Claudius?”
“Any of them. If you recognize them, do not give them the chance to recognize you.”
“Except for my friends,” Miko added.
Nasir just laughed. “Yes, except for them. Now, why don't you tell me a story?”
Miko perked up. “About my friends?”
“About Simon.”
“Oh.” He frowned. “That story. He was upset that I got you shot.”
“You did not get me shot. You did get me help.”
Putting a candy in his mouth, Miko quietly said, “He told me I was...bad for the agency.”
“Do you believe that?”
“I fuck up jobs.”
“Everyone fucks up jobs. Frank had one stolen right out from under him.”
“He did?” Miko gasped, not remembering Hector ever telling that story.
“Miko...” Nasir gave him a disparaging look.
“Oh, me. But that was not fucked up for Frank, I shot the mark at the wrong time.”
“Really? Did he live?”
“No, but—”
“Miko, you get the job done. Are you perfect? No. But considering you have only one hand and severe mental problems, I think you're doing fine.” Nasir rubbed Miko's head, scruffing up his hair. “Would you like to do this job, or should I?”
Looking at his hand, Miko shrugged. “It depends on the size of his neck.”
It was two weeks into their surveillance when their mark left town unexpectedly for business, and Toby called in what would've been the middle of the night for him, just to “hear the sound” of Miko's voice.
“Everything is okay?” Miko asked. There was something different in the sound of Toby's voice.
“Yeah, I'm just on my way to work.”
“Work? It is late there.”
“Early. Bobby's grandma fell and broke her hip, so they went back to Ohio to take care of her. I'm trying to get caught up.”
“You have more employees?”
“Yeah.” But he had no more friends. “We're just stretched a little thin. Like you guys. What are you up to?”
“Nothing now. He left town. We have to wait for him to get back.”
Toby was quiet for a moment. “Is he coming back?”
“Nas is here, nothing will go wrong.”
“That's good. Less to worry about.” He huffed a laugh. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too. I should be home before you get postcards.”
“That's the best news I've gotten all day.”
“Day just began.”
“Right,” Toby sighed.
“What other news?” Miko asked. He could feel the tension on the phone even across the Atlantic.
“The car wouldn't start yesterday. I don't know, it seems fine now. I'll take it in once I have the time.”
“You are driving when it is troubled?”
Toby chuckled, which simultaneously alerted Miko that what he'd said was off and made him smile over it. “I'm using the van. If I get audited by the IRS I'm sure my mileage log is going to be the least of my worries, considering where I got my start up financing.”
“It was better than
cash,” Miko reminded him. Ophelia hadn't even hesitated to send it. One hundred thousand dollars that temporarily bought her Miko's company.
“It was,” Toby agreed, and grew quiet again. “I've gotta get to work. I love you, okay?”
“I love you too,” Miko said confusedly and Toby hung up.
“Everything all right?” Nasir asked, having politely eavesdropped on Miko's entire side of the conversation.
“I do not think so.”
“Go.”
“What?”
“The mark will be gone for a couple of days. Go. I'll be here.”
“I cannot just leave in the middle of a job.”
Nasir rolled his eyes. “You already stood up, Miko. You're about to start packing.”
Miko dropped the bag he hadn't even realized he'd grabbed, and grabbed Nasir in a bear hug instead. “Thank you.”
The BMW was parked outside when Miko got in later that day, but Toby wasn't home. It started fine, and Miko looked under the hood even though he had no idea what he was looking at. Toby's phone had gone straight to voicemail when Miko tried calling after he landed, which wasn't unusual while he was working, but something was unusual and Miko had no idea what he was looking for with that either.
He went back inside, walking around the apartment like there would be a clue to something Miko wasn't even sure was real. Maybe Toby had just been tired, overworked, lonely. It wouldn't be the first time. And yet, Miko could feel it. Wandering into the bedroom, Miko picked up Toby's picture frame, the flower from so long ago, Ophelia's words about Miko's love for him, and now the luggage tag. Kocham Cie. He sat on the bed and waited.
It was nearly eleven at night before Toby returned his call, immediately apologizing in case he'd woken him. “I'm home,” Miko said, unconsciously stressing the word for emphasis, since Toby was not.
“Wha—What are you doing home?” The surprise, and smile, was clear in his voice. “Is it done?”
“I was worried about you.”
“You didn't have to do that, Miko. I'm fine. Really.”
The Mercy of the Mako Shark Page 10
