The article that Azazel read showed Chet being promoted to Vice President of that company when the economy was in the dumps. Although Azazel was mad over the whole incident, he couldn’t see why Chet would be on the hit list. Then again, the very first person he was supposed to kill today was nothing more than a man that his wife cheated on him with, as far as he knew.
Azazel drove the Jaguar back to Cain and made his way towards the Plutus Space Center. No security and a fence but no gates. Just free access to the enormous warehouse. He sat there for a few moments, wondering where Chet might be hiding, and he also speculated why Chet was no longer Vice President of the other company. As far as he knew, the two businesses were independent.
Azazel looked one more time through the packet, hoping Chet’s whereabouts would be more clearly defined, but to no avail. Just as he was about to exit the Jaguar, the phone rang. “Curious about where to go?”
“Yeah, a little bit.”
“Drive towards the north end of the building. About three hundred feet from the west end of the building is a door, propped open for you. Make sure to pull your hat down enough for no one to recognize your facial features. Grab the MP7 in the center console. You still have the device I gave you on your body, right?”
“Yeah, I still have it. My um… ethel camouflage?”
“Ether, not ethel.”
“Right. So what’s an MP…” Azazel asked as he pulled the semi-automatic gun from the console. “Oh, this is cool.”
“Just wait for Chet in his office, which is located on the northwest corner of the facility. He’ll be in from lunch very soon, and when he arrives, ask him about the inventory system. You may think this is just about you, but this man is the very concept of corruption, using all the good others do for his own personal gain. Question him about Mary and Jim Parkin and what he did to them. While you’re at it, ask about Manny Alejandro. I could give you more examples, but that should be plenty.” Click.
Azazel was familiar with the first two people, a couple who were laid off not too much longer after Azazel and fell into some very hard times. He really felt bad for them. Manny, on the other hand, wasn’t a familiar name. Azazel analyzed the new gun and it felt powerful in his hands. Even though he’d been a thief long ago, he never bothered with guns. He thought it cheapened the experience and the chance of a clean getaway. It was more of a motivator to not be seen.
The north door was cracked for Azazel’s entry, and he casually strolled through the enormous warehouse, amazingly with no resistance. The office resembled that of any factory foreman, a strange setting for a vice president of the company. The packet didn’t specifically state that he was second in charge here, so maybe he was downgraded to a foreman. Just maybe, Chet got caught in his betraying activities.
Azazel entered the empty office, sat in the comfy ergonomic chair, and placed the gun and cell phone on the desk. The moment his phone touched the desk calendar, the computer screen lit up and frightened him slightly. The phone then began connecting to the wireless connection, hacking into the files of the system. Azazel was relatively unfamiliar with computers with the exception of casual toying on the internet, so he was clueless what the files meant.
The phone buzzed. “What you’re seeing here is all of the proof that Chet finagled his way through the system.”
“He left it on here? What a dumb ass.”
“Yes, well, narcissistic people tend to think they’re too smart to get caught. A few keystrokes are all that keeps them from a jail cell. He’s approaching now. Pick up the gun.”
“How the hell…never mind.”
Azazel wondered about the fact that no outside windows were available for Lucifer to peek through. All the previous situations, Lucifer has windows for viewing ports. Azazel thought that the phone somehow gave the information of his surroundings, but that still wouldn’t explain how Chet’s approach was foretold. Chet walked into the office, clearly startled by the intruder, and even more stunned by who it was looking back at him.
“Hey Chet, we need to discuss a few things.”
“A gun? Is that necessary?”
“Apparently. Look, we’ve never been friends. From what I could tell, friends were a rare commodity for you. How many people have you stepped on to get to the top? Please, sit down.”
“I’ll stand, thank you very much. But would you mind explaining to me why you think I’ve screwed people over? I’ve done nothing but my job, through and through. It’s not my fault that others couldn’t perform at theirs well enough to withstand the downsizing of a company during recession. It’s a necessary evil.”
Azazel looked at the screen controlled by Lucifer. “Look, that’s a fine and appropriate view as a company’s head, but what I won’t tolerate is a person doubling their own pay when people are losing jobs.”
“Ha! I didn’t double my pay.”
“Do you remember the business expenses that went directly to your personal account? It takes some amazing knowledge of the multiple systems you tapped to remain under the radar, but lucky for me, I have the skeleton key to open the doors that uncover everything you’ve done. Do you remember what you did to Mary and Jim Parkin? Do you remember how long they worked for that company just to get the axe directly from you? How about Manny Alejandro?”
“Manny? Oh yes, Manny was one of the painters. Well, he probably shouldn’t have stolen all that paint. That was company property.”
The screen displayed a video showing Chet placing the tubs of paint into Manny’s car.
“Did he steal it, or did you say that he stole it?” Azazel turned the computer screen towards Chet.
“How in the hell did you get this? What sort of shit are you into? There wasn’t a camera there.”
“Don’t worry about that. You are a despicable human being and I hope you burn in hell.”
“How dare you condemn me?” Chet roared. “I remember why you were laid off and it wasn’t just because of the recession. If I remember correctly, you were told of your time to leave a few weeks in advance, and you took complete advantage of it, ceasing to work. I wanted to fire you multiple times. It was my pleasure to force a few underperforming people out of the job.”
“So how does that rectify what you did? That was the weakest argument I’ve ever heard. You’re blaming us workers, namely one who has a gun pointed at your face, that we are the reason you fired them? Maybe your head is fucked, but none of us stopped working hard. Not at that job.”
“I can recall numerous occasions when I’d walk by and see you and the others sitting around. Did you think I wasn’t paying attention?”
“Of those times, how many were during breaks?”
“Regardless, you underperformed consistently.”
“Name one thing I was deficient in. One.”
“You know what, I don’t have to answer to you.” Chet turned to the side.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to get through to you.”
Azazel raised the gun.
“No, no, no, no, no!” Chet put his hands up.
“It makes me very happy to relieve you of your duties.”
Azazel didn’t hesitate. A bullet made its way directly into the center of Chet’s forehead. The brain matter exploded from the back of his skull, all over the south office wall. Azazel sat back into the chair as Chet’s body dropped to the ground.
The phone rang. “I didn’t want you to kill him yet.” Lucifer said, “I had something else of value to show.”
“My fault.”
“You didn’t like him much, did you?”
“Well, you gave me the opportunity to eliminate a snake in the grass and I stomped that bastard out.”
“Fair enough. Get out of there. I’ve downloaded all the information from his computer and it will be routed to the police.”
“Speaking of the police, did you tell them to go to my house?”
“No and yes. Just leave the office right now and I may explain it to you later. Chet is about to h
ave a visitor, and you don’t want to be there when the body is discovered. Talk to you at 2.”
2 P.M.: Jerome Mills
Back at Kushiel, Azazel went through the files, picking the next target. It was a strange moment when he realized he was actually enjoying this. His children just became a side note of the aggressive streak, and what Lucifer brought out of him was the person he always wanted to be, a vigilante of sorts. Chet was a guilty pleasure, something he always dreamt about, but having the excuse was all he needed. With the day more than half-way fulfilled, Azazel never imagined that he’d be grateful for the chance to correct all the past mistakes.
Azazel uncovered the file named Jerome Mills and tried to remember what was the problem with the man. He couldn’t even recall the guy, even with a picture. Newspapers included in the packet outlined multiple criminal acts, including opening fire into a house nearby his own. Even with this, he couldn’t hone in on who this man was to him.
The phone rang with no new song attached again, just a stock sound like the previous hour. “Who’s next?” Lucifer asked.
“What, no silly ringtone?”
“Now how am I supposed to use a song associated with the theme of the activity if I don’t know which activity you’ll be performing?”
“Oh, is that how those songs worked?”
“To a certain degree,” Lucifer replied. “I’m not a psychic.”
“Are you sure? What you’ve done so far is making me think something supernatural is going on.”
“No, just well prepared.”
“Care to divulge the secret of the car wreck with James Billings?” Azazel pried. “If that wasn’t miraculous, then I don’t know what would be.”
“Not particularly. Anyway, who’s next?”
“Uh…Jerome Mills. I don’t think I know him.”
“Oh, of course you do. Remember Amber?”
“Amber?”
It had been a long time since that name had left his mouth. Amber was Azazel’s niece, who was nearing completion of her senior year in high school, set to graduate with honors. Amber was one of Azazel’s favorite nieces and he even wagered that if she managed to get accepted into a college, something that few in his family ever achieved, he’d do everything in his power to help her secure scholarships and grants. He was even willing to use some of the burglary cash to help out.
“Amber.” Azazel’s tone changed to sullen. “It was such a shame. She was onto do great things.” He realized it was a subject hard to swallow. Long buried emotions began surfacing. “Are you telling me Jerome is the killer?”
“I don’t think I need to. He’s located at 1189 North Chicago Avenue. Look in the room just to the north of you. There are two gifts. I hope you’re ready for a fight.”
“What kind of fight?”
“Just be careful.” Click.
With the targets Azazel had dealt with so far, he had little defense. He walked into the small linen closet to find a box and a set of body armor. He worried about the weight, but picking the equipment up, he was amazed with the lightness of the material. It still weighed around twenty pounds total, but a full set like this should be upwards of over forty pounds.
He checked the box and found a few extra clips and a scope for the MP7, along with a new device. He turned it on and the screen lit up. He waved it around, seeing where available heat sources were. It dawned on him that this was an infrared detector, but he wasn’t sure why it’d be needed during the day. Maybe it was for later and the items in the box were for the rest of the day.
1189 North Chicago Avenue was a two story home within a relatively large cul-de-sac. One way in, one way out, at least by car. Azazel drove to the nearby park, hidden from the house by a two rows of trees and a set of railroad tracks ran along the side. He felt very uncomfortable walking around in full body armor in broad daylight. Hopefully Lucifer had his back. He couldn’t believe how silly he felt, running towards the back of the house, really unsure which one it was without the street addresses.
Azazel used the newly acquired scope to look into some of the windows, hoping that maybe he’d score a match to Jerome. The house was filled with people, and thankfully it appeared there were no young children. It was still before the time that school released, and just as he was about to approach the back door, the phone sounded, this time with “How I Could Just Kill A Man” from Cypress Hill.
Azazel bobbed his head to the oldie rap song, remembering listening to it when he was younger. “That’s better.” He commended Lucifer.
“Hey, what’re you doing?” Lucifer asked casually.
“What do you mean what am I doing? I’m doing what I thought you wanted me to.”
“Oh Azazel, assuming will get you into a lot of trouble. I knew you had a bloody streak. You didn’t even bother asking me what I wanted you to do here, did you?”
“No, I guess not. So, what do you want me to do here?” Azazel coyly nudged.
“Stay behind the tree line and wait a few minutes.”
“You know I’m in full body armor during broad daylight, right? This looks crazy suspicious.”
“Just relax. I’ll text you when I want you to enter.” Click.
“What the fuck!?!” Azazel said to himself.
He watched the house impatiently, each second ticking away far too slowly. Two minutes passed until three carloads of people departed the home, making Azazel realize why Lucifer had him wait.
“Go,” A text read.
Just as commanded, Azazel ran towards the back door, feeling the added weight of the suit and breathing heavily. The door was unlocked, so he slid in, worried slightly by the creaking noise. He carefully navigated up the basement stairs leading into the kitchen, only hearing a low-volume TV in the living room. As he rounded the corner, he saw a man tied up, sitting facing the kitchen.
“What the fuck?!?” Azazel said out loud.
“Exactly! What the fuck is this? You motha fuckas bum rush me n’ shit. I’d blast ya bitches if I knew who y’all were.”
The phone rang. “Place me on speaker,” Lucifer commanded.
“Ok, go ahead.”
“Jerome Mills, you are a contemptible human being. You have destroyed many lives in your quest to sell drugs and basically lead a terrible existence. How do you plead?”
“Fuck you, bitch! When I get outta here, I’m gonna find you, your family, your friends and I’m gonna kill them all!”
“Jerome, you are way in over your head. You see, my friend Azazel here had your handiwork directly impact his life. Do you remember a girl named Amber Mormo?”
“Who the fuck is that? Sounds like some dumb bitch.”
“That lovely young lady was brutally slain by none other than your hands. You were released on a technicality, but today is your judgment, my friend.”
“Oh, that one. Yeah, I kinda felt bad for that, but shit, she was supposed to just sit there. Not say a fucking word, ya know. Instead, she got up and ran. We couldn’t let her snitch.”
“You robbed her house and got mad that she tried to escape. I’ll never understand your despicable kind. How many innocents must die for you to subsist?”
“Survival of the fittest, bitch!”
“Even now in your vulgarity and toughness, I know you’re frightened of what’s to come upon the day of your death. Today is that day. Do you have any last words?”
“Let me out of this motha fucka, motha fucka!”
“Azazel, please do the honors.”
“Gladly.”
Azazel raised the weapon and released one round directly into Jerome’s head.
“Go ahead and do two in the chest for good measure,” Lucifer added. “You wouldn’t want him to accidentally live through a head shot.”
Azazel did as he suggested and two more rounds penetrated the lungs of the petty drug dealer. The last few breaths gurgled from Jerome before the head hunched over.
“Lucifer, who were all those people that left earlier?”
�
��Associates of Jerome’s who only needed a small nudge to help out. Not a very loyal bunch, that’s for sure.”
“I have one last question, why am I dressed in body armor for that?” Azazel asked as he returned the way he came.
“I didn’t tell you to put it on, did I? Once again, assumptions are getting the best of you. You do realize that you’re in control of the choice of where to go next right?”
“Yeah, I guess so.” Azazel hung up and laughed nearly all the way to his Jaguar.
3 P.M.: Beth Braidington
At Kushiel, Azazel stripped all the body armor off and sorted through the files for the next target. Starting to appreciate this line of work, he began seeing minor connections to the names of people he recognized. He was having a hard time picking between the next few as they were all seemingly innocent people.
The phone sounded. “So, who’s your next target?” Lucifer asked.
“I don’t know. I don’t get why these people are in here. I mean, I’m looking through the packets and I understand that you set this thing up to last 24 hours, but still, I just don’t know. I can see they’re connected in one way or another, but I don’t get it.”
“So you need guidance, huh? You’re a soldier in need of a direction.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“Very well, choose the file with the name of Beth Braidington and check your back room for a package with her name. Go to the place in her file but don’t open the box.” Click.
Azazel must’ve swiped across the nearly empty packet while digging through the other files. He looked inside and only found one sheet disclosing a residence listing in the Cain’s north end. He went into the back room where his own presents remained, and discovered a new box.
“Oh god, I hope this isn’t like the What’s in the box? scene from Se7en,” he said.
The Djinn Trials: Azazel Page 8
