by Mike Ryan
“Not yet,” Turner replied. “Wait, he just walked past the front window.”
That was her cue. It was all she needed to make a dash for the back door. She was never the fastest person, but she was quick enough when she needed to be. She turned the handle to the back door, just in case Zubov was dumb enough to leave it unlocked. No such luck, however. Now she had to jimmy the door. Luckily she had a lot of experience with that and she had it opened in under a minute. She only opened it enough to be able to slither inside the dark room. She removed her gun from her pants and crawled along the floor. If someone was waiting and took a shot, they’d likely aim higher where they assumed someone would be standing. It was of no consequence though, as she entered without a sound, and without being noticed. Once Parker realized that she was in scot-free, she got to her feet. With her gun by her side, she made her way into the kitchen. She heard movement coming from the living room.
“Still in the living room,” Turner said in her ear.
Parker quietly went to the swinging door that led from the kitchen to the living room. She stood there for a few seconds, listening, trying to determine exactly where Zubov was. It sounded as if he was walking along the far side of the room. She then heard the TV being put on. Zubov walked around the room a few minutes longer, seemingly looking for something, mumbling to himself. Parker was getting ready to make her move on the unsuspecting victim. Just as she was about ready to burst through the door, Zubov’s phone rang, stopping Parker as she made her first step. She listened closely at his conversation.
“What?” Zubov asked. “No. Nobody followed me here.”
Parker obviously couldn’t be sure, but if she had to make a guess, she would’ve put her money on the person on the other end of the phone being Oleg Arsenyev. From what she could make out, it sounded like he was checking in.
“Of course I’m sure. I’m looking out the window right now,” Zubov said.
Zubov went to the front window and looking through the curtains. Parker could hear the curtains being thrown back.
“There’s nothing out there,” Zubov told him. “I told you they’re not on to me. Right. Yeah. I’m gonna fix myself a sandwich. Yeah. All right. Talk to you later.”
Zubov tossed his phone down on the table and went back to what he was doing. Parker now knew he was about to come in to get something to eat. She slinked back to the corner of the swinging door, waiting for him. A few seconds later, she heard footsteps. They were coming closer. The door swung open, though only going three quarters of the way it normally did, with her body blocking the rest of it. Parker’s foot stopped it and pushed it back, out of the way. As soon as she saw Zubov’s body, Parker snuck up behind him. He never heard her coming. She raised her pistol up to the back of his head and pulled the trigger. One shot was all it took at that close a range. Zubov’s lifeless body immediately dropped to the floor, making a loud thud. Blood instantly started pouring out of the hole in the back of his head.
Parker stood over her victim’s dead body, just staring at him. Though it was her job, and he was part of a criminal organization, she felt a sense of sadness come over her. It was a rather new feeling for her. She usually never felt much remorse over the people she killed. It was just a job, and the people she was after, usually were pretty bad people and had done some terrible things. This guy was no different. Zubov had a lengthy history of police interactions. But for some reason, she wasn’t feeling much satisfaction over completing her assignment. She looked at her weapon for a moment before putting it back inside the back of her pants. She was confused at why she was feeling so down about what just happened. It was a clear sign that she was ready to leave this life of hers behind. She no longer was at peace with what she was doing.
“Alex? Alex, are you all right?” Turner asked, breaking up her reflecting.
“Uhh, yeah, yeah, I’m OK. I’m coming out.”
“Is everything OK? What about Zubov?”
“Zubov’s dead,” Parker replied.
Parker stepped over the dead body and left the house through the back door. She walked around the side of the house and jogged over to the car. She got behind the wheel of the car and just sat there a minute, staring back at the house, knowing what carnage lurked inside of it. Turner looked at her and knew something was wrong. There was something bothering her.
“What’s the matter?” Turner asked.
Parker tore her eyes away from the house to look at her boyfriend and smiled. A smile that couldn’t hide the sadness that was inside her. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
Turner slid over as far as he could and put his arm around her. He assumed whatever her problem was, stemmed from what she just had to do. He knew it was getting old for her. He kissed her on the cheek. Parker buried her head in his chest, trying not to cry. She didn’t want to. Not over Zubov. He wasn’t worth the tears. She was more upset with herself. She couldn’t have explained it if she tried. Luckily, she didn’t have to. Turner understood without her having to say a word. He knew she was tired. Her heart had softened since they met. She didn’t have that cold blood running through her anymore. She didn’t have what Cole still had. She no longer had that drive, that unwavering desire to eliminate every seedy element that she came across. Turner kissed her on the top of the head as he held her even closer.
“It’s almost over,” he whispered. “It’s almost over.”
Chapter 9
“Cole, are you there?” Parker asked.
Without getting a response, she waited a minute before trying again. She wasn’t overly concerned at this point, since she knew it was possible he was in a position where he was close to his target and couldn’t speak without risking giving away his presence. Her and Turner had just left Misty’s residence and were driving to the Santa Monica address where Cole was supposed to be.
“Cole?” she asked again.
She still got no response. It was about a twenty minute drive, depending on traffic. Worried that her partner may be in trouble, Parker put the pedal to the metal.
“He’s OK,” Turner stated, trying to clear his girlfriend’s mind.
“I know he is,” she replied, not totally sure she believed it.
“He probably just can’t talk right now. You’ve been there.”
“I know.”
“So don’t worry.”
Though they didn’t know it for a fact, Cole was actually not in any imminent danger. He was inside the house that belonged to Arsenyev. It wasn’t the biggest house on the block but it was a nice piece of property. A small, white picket fence lined the outside of the white house, with green trim and green shutters. He heard Parker trying to communicate with him, but didn’t want to give his position away. He was in the corner of the living room. It was pitch black in there. Not a single light on except for a digital clock on an end table. In fact, most of the entire house was dark. A small light in the kitchen was on, but not much else.
As Cole slowly walked through the house, he heard noises coming from the bedroom. From the sounds of it, it appeared they were having a good old time. Walking down the hallway to the bedroom, Cole almost tripped over a shirt thrown on the floor. He first went into a couple other bedrooms, just to make sure there was nobody else in the house that would throw him for a surprise. The rest of the house seemed to be clear. It was just Arsenyev and Misty going at it in the bedroom. Cole stood just outside the bedroom door and listened for a minute. He wanted to make sure he’d get the jump on his Russian friend. Deciding it was time to make his move, Cole forcefully pushed open the door, slamming it into the wall. Arsenyev was on the bed, straddling overtop of Misty. He jumped up at the sight of the intruder and threw his arms in the air, knowing he wasn’t able to get to his gun on the side table. Misty pulled the sheets up to her neck so only her face was showing, afraid of the stranger with the gun.
“Who are you and what do you want?” Arsenyev asked.
“I’m the boogeyman. And I’m here to kill you,” Cole replied, somewhat
energetically.
Arsenyev puffed at the bravado of his counterpart. “Well then do it. What are you waiting…”
Cole didn’t let the Russian finish his sentence. With his gun pointed right at the man’s chest, Cole let his pistol do all the talking necessary. He put a hole in his victim’s chest, Arsenyev falling backwards before landing against the far wall. He was still writhing around in pain, clutching to his life, struggling to breathe. Cole slowly walked over to him and stood in front of him as he watched him struggle. He aimed his gun at his target again and looked at Misty, then pulled the trigger. Arsenyev’s struggle had ended, immediately perishing upon entry of the second bullet.
“Please, I won’t say anything!” Misty screamed.
“Relax, I’m not here for you,” Cole replied. “Put your clothes on.”
Cole saw Arsenyev’s gun on the table and picked it up. He wiped it clean with a piece of cloth he found and placed it in the dead man’s hand. As he was doing so, Misty was putting on her clothes. Cole kind of enjoyed the view, catching her in just a thong and a bra, before putting on the rest of her clothes.
“What’re you gonna do with me?” she worriedly asked.
“I’m not gonna do nothing. I’m just here for him. You can go,” Cole responded.
“Really?”
“Yeah. What’re you doing with this creep anyway?”
Misty shrugged. “I dunno. He was all right I guess.”
“I heard he beat you up some.”
“Sometimes.”
“Don’t put up with that shit,” Cole told her. “You deserve better. Some schmuck puts their hands on you again, you grab what you can find and smash them in the head with it, understand?”
She nodded.
“Police will be here in a little bit to investigate this. You weren’t here tonight, you got it? Go to the club with Brandy and hang out or something. Give yourself an alibi.”
“But he’s laying there in his underwear,” Misty said. “Won’t they think I was with him or something.”
“You weren’t here. Just say he had other women besides you. Could’ve been anybody.”
“Wouldn’t be a lie, anyway.”
“Cole, you there?” Parker’s voice boomed in his ear.
“Yeah, what’s up?” he returned.
“Just checking in. I was getting worried since you didn’t respond.”
“Yeah, sorry about that. I was a little busy.”
“Thought so. We’re about five minutes from your location,” she informed him.
“Don’t worry about. You can ease up on the throttle.”
“Why?”
“Arsenyev’s dead,” Cole revealed.
“Our work here is done then.”
“Why? You get Zubov?”
“Yeah.”
“Where’d you leave him,” he asked.
“In the kitchen. Why?”
“Just thinking about the girl. Don’t want her to get pinched for this.”
“Since when did you ever care about the repercussions?” Parker wondered.
“Since there was a pretty woman involved,” Turner interrupted.
“Nobody asked you,” Cole replied. “She got mixed up with the wrong crowd. I just don’t wanna see her go down for this.”
“She won’t”
Cole broke away from his conversation to focus on Misty again. “Listen, do you own a gun or anything?”
She shook her head. “No, why?”
“Well, his friend Zubov is dead in your kitchen.”
Misty put her hands over her mouth in shock. “What am I going to do? They’re going to think I had something to do with this.”
“No they won’t,” Cole told her. “This is what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna go to the club for an hour or two. Then go home and call the police and tell them you found a dead man in your home.”
“Then what?”
“Tell them you left the house at eight to come over here. You knocked on the door, found him in his underwear with a redhead hanging on his arm. You were upset, left, drove around for a while, then went to the club. Make sure people see you. Hang out with Brandy, the bouncers, the other girls, make sure they know you were there.”
“OK?”
“That’s your story. That’s how your night went. Don’t change it for anything.”
“Maybe I should just leave the state.”
“Don’t do that. They’ll think you’re guilty. Just do what I told you and you’ll be fine.”
“Who are you?” she finally asked.
“The less you know, the better off you are.”
“You’re sure I won’t get blamed for this?” she worried.
“I promise you won’t as long as you stick to the story. I’ll keep an eye out for you just in case. I’ll make sure nothing happens,” Cole reassured. “I have some pull if it does. Now go.”
Misty turned to leave, getting as far as the hallway before turning around and coming back. She wanted to get something off her chest, not fearful of the gunman.
“Thanks,” she said.
“You’re welcome.”
“I’m not sorry he’s dead. I didn’t love him, you know. I was just afraid to get away from him. I tried once and he gave me enough bruises to think twice about trying it again.”
Cole grinned. “Now you don’t have to worry anymore. Just do yourself a favor and find a decent guy.”
Before leaving, Misty walked up to him and planted a kiss on his cheek. She then hurriedly ran out of the house. Cole heard the car door slam and the car pull out of the driveway. He peeked out the window and saw her burn rubber down the street.
“You guys might as well turn around. I’m about to get out of here,” Cole reported. “I’ll meet you back at the hotel.”
“Copy that,” Parker replied.
They regrouped back at the hotel, meeting in Cole’s room. They each described to the other how their individual assignments went, telling each other how the last remaining members of the L.A. Yevenko organization met their ends.
“We should let Burnett know what’s happened,” Parker stated.
“Do we have to do it tonight?” Cole asked. “Can’t we just do it in the morning? I’m beat.”
“I guess we could. Though protocol does state that whenever an agent eliminates a specifically assigned target, that agent must check in immediately to report their activities.”
“Since when did you become a walking rulebook?”
“I just don’t want to see you get possibly disciplined,” she told him.
“What about you?”
“Well, I’ll be leaving soon. What discipline could they levy on me?”
“Hmm, you got a point,” Cole replied.
“Plus, police are going to find their bodies in the next couple of hours, right?”
“Yeah. So?”
“So their names are going to go into the system as DOA, right? That means flags are going to go off in the CIA databases. Now, considering we’re right here in the area, and considering we were assigned to terminate them, don’t you think she would take a rather dim view of hearing about their demise from someone other than us?”
“Oh, fine, you made your point. Get her on the line,” he said, his eyes half closed.
It’s not that Parker was especially a stickler for the rulebook. But she didn’t like putting off for another day what could be done now. Especially when she knew that when Burnett found out, she’d be ringing their phones off the hook until they answered anyway, wondering why they didn’t report in with the events. Plus, she figured if they did it now, they might be able to sleep in an extra hour or two in the morning. She’d always vote for sleeping in whenever possible. While the two of them were debating the merits of contacting Burnett, Turner had already grabbed his laptop and set it up on the desk.
“And why do we always have to do these video calls?” Cole wondered. “Why can’t we just send her a text and be done with it?”
“Wow. Y
ou’re on a roll tonight, huh?” Parker asked, never hearing Cole question protocol so much.
“I’m just saying,” Cole responded, obviously tired.
“You already know the reasons why, but I’ll tell you again anyway, but the video calls are on a secure network that can’t be hacked, traced, or broken into. Our phones, even though they’re unlikely to be any of those things, are not as secure.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know, I know. Let’s just get this thing over with so I can get to bed.”
Since Burnett was at home, it took a few minutes longer to get her on call, but she was on within five minutes. She always had her laptop on hand in case she was needed, and when she was in bed, she’d place it on the nightstand next to the bed, always ready if the situation called for it. She knew that if a call came in after seven, it was usually an extremely important call that required immediate attention.
“What’s up, team?” Burnett greeted.
“We were just reporting in and wanted to inform you that both Oleg Arsenyev and Pavel Zubov have both been eliminated,” Parker informed.
“Excellent. Excellent news,” she beemed. “You’re sure about this?”
“A hundred percent. I got Zubov. Cole got Arsenyev. Both were point blank shots and were confirmed up close.”
“Fantastic. Great news to close up the day. And you did it within twenty four hours,” Burnett gushed. “Great work, team.”
“Well, we had good intel. Hard work was mostly done for us.”
“Unfortunately, your next assignment will not likely be so easy.”
“Mexico,” Cole grumbled.
“Indeed. Mexico. But let’s save that headache for tomorrow,” Burnett said. “For now, tonight, let’s just enjoy the victory and take the rest of the night easy.”
“I’ll drink to that,” he responded. With the call over, Cole started getting ready for bed. “Try to keep the noise down over there tonight, will ya?”
“Why do you automatically assume we’re gonna do something?” Turner wondered.
“Please. Don’t insult my intelligence,” he said, going in and out of the bedroom. “You’ve got a hot girl, you’ve had a wild day, you wanna celebrate…I get it. Just keep it down. No offense, Parker.”
