Assassin Territory [Assassins Book 1]

by C. L. Scholey

  His profession radiated from his very core. His old boss had seen what he was the moment he laid eyes on him. But his boss had been in the business so long he could spot potential. The mafia family snapped up Lando quickly and he was well taken care of, his every whim catered to: desirable willing women, continuous money, fast expensive cars, and a high life filled with endless excitement and ultimate power, which he wielded with expertise. He, in turn, took care of his ‘family.’ Whenever one of his people lost someone close, Lando took care of the assassin. That he more than took care of them was well known even in the farthest of circles. His reputation was fierce, his hard-handed blows to powerful predators unparalleled.

  But this last job…Lando’s boss’s wife and daughter had been gunned down mercilessly; a pointless execution from an ambiguous man who challenged their family dynasty in a senseless power play. The pain of his boss’s loss consumed the man; revenge was the only logical thought. Any shred of decency he once possessed was destroyed.

  As Lando predicted, a hit was ordered and he was anxious for it, hungered for it. He respected his boss’s deeply devoted wife, and his daughter had been beautiful, a cheeky, well-loved cherub of nineteen, quick to offer a teasing smile at what she referred to as the face of granite. She was as close to a little sister as Lando allowed, and now she was gone.

  When the call came down, Lando sat speechless as he was ordered not to kill the assassin, but the man’s family. The wife, a woman of only twenty-two, a nine-year-old son from a previous marriage, and a three-week-old baby girl. Lando had been outraged. He stormed at his boss he didn’t do women; he knew it was one of the deals. That he was the best in the business was the reason he had been chosen gave him no peace of mind. They would be extremely difficult marks to be sure; they were undoubtedly well protected. Up until then, his boss always respected that one flaw in Lando’s armor; he killed the evil, not the innocent. Absolutely no one would make him slaughter a young, helpless boy. The baby girl…three weeks? Good God. What was her crime, except to be born into the wrong family?

  Sickened, Lando stood while his boss’s empty, soulless gaze looked at him threateningly. His boss, teeth gnashed, informed him perhaps it wasn’t the hit that was in question, but Lando’s loyalty.

  Lando walked out after that, but not before he did some threatening of his own. He perhaps unwisely informed his boss if anything happened to the woman and those children, he would answer for it. Ten days later, a deep rage settled over Lando as he stood over a grave containing the burned bodies of a twenty-two-year-old woman and her baby daughter. Thankfully the young boy had been away. Lando strode, fuelled by fury and disgust, for the police station and offered his ex-boss over on a silver platter. Hopefully, he could still save the boy. In return for turning over evidence, Lando would be placed in the witness protection program, and would never be heard from again. Lando highly doubted the last part. He knew the people he dealt with.

  The situation happened over a month ago. There were numerous contracts out on his life. Not that it bothered him. He had gotten to people who had been out for his blood first. Now it would be people he once called family. The closest he ever had.

  Lando knew his loyalty had never been in question. The minute his boss demanded the death of an innocent, defenseless woman and her young children, he knew it was his boss’s loyalty at fault; his ‘family’ life was an illusion.

  Lando once more focused his thoughts on Christy. Her crying quieted, her whimpers all but ceased. In her exhausted state, she unconsciously sought out the warmth of the fire, and her slight body emerged from the protection of the tree to venture closer out into the open. Taking care to be silent, Lando rose. With a great deal of tenderness, mindful of her bruising, he lifted her, placing her down beside the roaring flames. Removing the mitt on his hand he ran his palm across her cool brow, aware she was now sleeping the sleep of one completely exhausted. Lando resisted the urge to throw Sam’s coat over her slumbering form or cuddle up beside her. He settled back against the rock. All thoughts of causing her demise vanished. Perhaps he never really would have killed her in the first place. Or would he have? He felt thankful he wouldn’t have to find out.

  * * * *

  As Christy woke with a start, Lando watched. The action undoubtedly caused pain in her ribs as her slender hand grasped her side. She gazed with some confusion into the sky as dawn ascended. She cast a fearful gaze toward the dying fire. Her body had shifted toward the warmth unconsciously during the night, drawing her closer to Lando. He noted her concern as she could just make out his large form facing her; his eyes remained partially closed. Her mouth formed a huge O. Christy rose to a crawling position, turned hastily. Butt in the air, on hands and knees she scrambled as though the hounds of hell were about to rip her to shreds and hid behind the nearest tree.

  Lando resisted the urge to tell her she had a nice ass. He’d watched her as she slept during the night. The flames of the fire danced across her heart-shaped face. Even bruised and dirty she was beyond beautiful. The innocent face of a cherub, two nicely rounded bumps under her coats, breasts perfect for his touch. Rosy red full lips for ravishing. He groaned, shifted and rearranged his junk into a better position. He hadn’t been with a woman for a long while.

  Lando rubbed at his eyes, pulled his hands away and began another performance. His lashes fluttered and he yawned with exaggeration. Fingers scratched at his belly. Amusingly, he thought he should take up acting once this was over. He was certainly doing a fair amount of it. Lando reached into his pocket for the last chocolate bar. He could almost hear Christy’s mouth water from behind the tree.

  He took a healthy bite, groaning, his eyes closing to savor the flavor of delicious caramel and crunchy nuts, which tasted ten times better on an empty stomach, and wondered how he could leave Christy some. Simply announcing he was full wasn’t an option and would raise suspicion. Truth be told, he’d like to cram it down his throat and eat the whole damn thing alone. Yet, he had been providing her with sustenance, though meager amounts, up until now; he couldn’t demand she suddenly fend for herself. He doubted she would be capable anyway. In his line of work, he’d never come across anyone so defenseless and helpless.

  Lando could see Christy watching unobtrusively. She took the occasional glance around the tree to see what he was doing, if he was leaving. Her yearning, starved doe gaze made the decision for him, and a thought came to mind. Lando jerked forward and grabbed at his jaw.

  “Damn cavity,” he groaned, hoping to appear in obvious pain.

  With a tremendous amount of flourish, Lando sent less than half the chocolate bar flying in her direction, still in its wrapper. He pretended not to notice the eager hand that shot out and caught it once it hit the ground. As Lando packed up his belongings, he couldn’t help a small chuckle. Yep, he could just envision his Academy Award. Move over, Mathew McConaughey!

  * * * *

  Christy thought her legs were about to fall off. Her entire body protested with every agonizing step, her ribs burning, her tortured limbs aching, she moved with deliberate slowness.

  She was even too tired to jump anymore at the occasional scream of a cougar. Lando was moving at a relentless pace. She couldn’t see he would have any possible destination in mind. He couldn’t possibly know where they were. Everything looked the same to her—frightening, overgrown and uncivilized.

  They paused at a fast flowing stream. Though the water was frigid, Christy dunked her sweaty head into the current and shuddered. She scrubbed at her dirt-streaked hands. The water had turned so cold her head buzzed with pins and needles; she sneezed. She splashed water onto her face in an effort to clear her mind. Thirst overwhelmed her and she drank, shaking as the coldness inhabited her flesh, seeping into her bones. She was so hungry and tired. Lando moved off as if in search of something. Christy watched from behind a cluster of rocks. Lando returned and started a little fire. The fire established, he took out a small knife, once belonging to Howard, stuck in his
boot.

  He sharpened a tiny stick less than the size of his baby finger on either end to a point. Lando turned over a few large rocks, digging deeper in the ground with a thick twig and, after finding a large worm, he wrapped it, impaling it around the sharpened stick. Using a fine shoelace that belonged to the cop, he tied it in the middle of the nicked stick, and rose. He stopped, as if thinking of something.

  “Well, my slimy little friend, you’re going to catch me some lunch,” Lando said, his deep voice louder with the surround sound water makes. He moved off at a steady gait.

  Christy waited until he was out of sight, then raced to the fire to warm herself. She sat as close as she dared without burning limbs or hands. She threaded her fingers through her wet hair in an effort to dry it. Christy had become used to Lando’s incessant need to talk to himself. It proved to be very handy. At the last stop, he complained about a missing package of two crackers and stomped about, looking for it to no avail. Christy discovered the package on a rock in plain view. She found his voice, deep and rough, to be comforting now instead of frightening. At least she was aware she wasn’t all alone, even if he was too dangerous to approach.

  She heard Lando’s familiar, hacking, loud cough. Christy scrambled for safety. Out of sight, she watched as Lando set up two forked sticks over the fire and draped a large fish, perhaps salmon, across the stick suspended between the two others. Her mouth watered with longing as the tantalizing scent of the cooking fish wafted to her nose. She was famished.

  For a brief moment, Christy considered showing herself. She thought if she approached Lando and begged him not to kill her he wouldn’t. Her heart saddened. He had no mercy, at least not for her. First he had wanted to kill her, even in her helpless state, then he left her for dead, uncaring and unfeeling, when all she needed was a shoulder to lean on. Men could be cruel.

  Maybe if she offered him herself, she thought frantically. She had seen his interest. No, she would just be raped before he killed her, and she would die starving and hurting and terrified.

  Christy watched as Lando gorged on the fish she wasn’t certain he bothered to fully cook. He noisily smacked his lips, sucked on his fingers, and proclaimed it to be the best thing he’d eaten in months. Perhaps his incessant chattering wasn’t so comforting anymore.

  Christy almost wept in her despair. Maybe she could catch her own fish. She wouldn’t be able to cook it, a fire would be too dangerous, and she had no matches. She enjoyed sushi. She realized she had no culinary skills; their family had hired a maid and butler. She was never required to learn anything domesticated. She’d spent her years trailing her mother at charity functions, learning about the importance of fund-raising for those in desperate, dire need, and how to socialize with precision.

  Feeling flustered, she tried to remember what Lando had done with the tiny stick, though she had no knife and grimaced at the thought of the slick, slimy worm. Maybe a sharp rock would suffice, and she was hungry enough to touch anything.

  While she was pondering her rapid thoughts, she noted Lando stomping out his fire, eager to get moving. He grabbed at his things and was again on the move. Christy jumped to her feet, panicking. She couldn’t lose him. Her head swam suddenly at her quick motion and she thumped to the ground, landing sharply on her bottom. Sobbing, Christy resisted the urge to cry out to him to wait for her. She again rose, only this time with careful movements; with hope she approached the bones of the fish Lando left on a rock in plain sight.

  Excitement filled her. There was still meat on the large fish, a lot. Perhaps Lando’s stomach had shrunken and he couldn’t eat it all. Christy stuffed the remainder down her throat, choking on a few small bones, not really caring why it was left. The fact he could have saved some for later never entered her mind, she had been so grateful. She ate while trailing after him.

  * * * *

  Lando heard Christy following him. She moved about as quietly as a pack of rowdy boys. She was lucky he meant her no ill will or he would have discovered her the first time she sneezed. He stayed near the stream, not wanting to give up a water and food supply. This would make taking care of both of them much easier. As he left, he noted with concern she had fallen. He was always in tune with her actions, wanting to make sure she stayed close to him. Christy was becoming tired sooner. Lando hoped with the fish and fresh water she would become rejuvenated. His pace was unhurried; he was looking for a place to spend the night. He wanted to fish again. His belly still rumbled from hunger. Hopefully, he could catch more.

  The day was cold. The sky turned overcast and Lando detected the sweet, metallic scent of snow in the air. He would need real shelter if the snow flew. So would she. It was with great relief he spotted a small cave surrounded by a large cluster of rocks. A snowflake landed on his brow, reminding him of how close winter actually was.

  Lando gathered sticks and twigs, larger pieces of dry wood. He piled them all at the back of the small cave. He made certain there was a large pile stacked beside the opening of the cave within arm’s reach. Once his fire was established, he began to build a frame constructed to fit over the opening of the cave, to contain warmth. He bound together workable-sized pieces of wood with rope from one of the parachutes. Howard hadn’t been joking. He could have constructed a tent, but felt it wouldn’t provide enough protection or warmth. Once done, he again set out to fish.

  * * * *

  Christy wasn’t sure what was happening. She watched Lando race around, gathering wood. She wondered at the type of door he placed over his cave. Mystified, she watched him dart from the cave without muttering a single word, and head for the stream. She wondered if the snow had him concerned. Only a few flakes were falling. It wasn’t as if a blizzard was blowing. Maybe his tummy, once having a taste of the fish, was coveting more. She knew hers was.

  Christy was too afraid to venture into the cave. She would be unable to leave undetected quickly enough when he returned. She longed to warm herself by the fire. She could feel its warmth beckoning by the opening. Teeth chattering, she was wishing she could sleep in there tonight. The eerie sound of the wolves howling wasn’t quite as enchanting when she felt so vulnerable and exposed. Christy backed away, knowing night would soon fall, and she would need her own type of shelter. But she would be unable to move too far from Lando.

  She would need to be aware of when he left. Her options were limited and this was the first night since the crash she wouldn’t be able to see him. She knew she wouldn’t have come this far without his careless and mistakenly-left offerings and the protection of the fires.

  How do you miss seeing a man who wanted you dead? Christy gave her head a shake. Her thoughts were irrational.

  * * * *

  Lando wanted to bellow in triumph. Not only had he caught three more fish, he stumbled onto a rabbit’s burrow. Thrusting a sharp stick down the hole, he speared it, and carried the now cleaned and gutted food back to the cave. Lando filled his crude bowl at the stream and filled a condom with water for later use if necessary. The condom he’d found in the officer’s wallet.

  Once he dumped his bounty inside, and after skewering the rabbit for roasting, he realized he had one more thing to do. The snow was beginning to fall with greater intensity; soon a blizzard would rage, there was no denying it. With grim, steely determination, he left the cave. It didn’t take him long to find her huddled form. As he predicted, Christy hadn’t ventured far. She was curled at the base of a large pine tree, hoping its large branches would offer some kind of protection from the snow and wind that picked up.

  The wind howled as snow swirled around his feet unwilling to settle the dance. Christy wouldn’t have been unable to hear his approach over the noise of the storm. Lando needed to make a quick catch; when terrified, people tended to move faster. He leaned down, his hand hit material; grabbing a fistful, he yanked her surprised body out from under the tree, giving her no chance to escape.

  * * * *

  Christy screamed with fright. She realized th
e snow was picking up, soon falling in heavy sheets until visibility was nonexistent. The temperature was dropping at an alarming rate. Shaking violently, she had pulled herself into a tight ball, sobbing as the air became unbearably frigid, each breath an assault to her freezing lungs. The fierce wind shook the limbs of the tree in its intensity, showering her with endless snow until she was fearful of becoming buried alive; she didn’t think she could possibly feel any more miserable. When her arm was captured in a painful grip and she was pulled out from under the tree, she howled with new fear. Lando had somehow found her, and he would kill her.

  “Let me go,” Christy screamed.

  How had he found her? Why did he want her dead so badly? She wouldn’t tell anyone he was still alive, if that’s what was driving him. Did he need to silence her, feeling it would be his only way of real freedom from the police?

  “Wait. Oh God, stop. Please don’t kill me, I won’t tell. I will say anything you want me to, I swear. I’ll tell the cops no one survived but me.” She continued to yell, and struggle. It was useless; he was so big, so powerful. His strong arms pinned her small ones. He clutched her legs in a death grip and she couldn’t kick out. She screamed for him to leave her be as he strode toward his shelter.

  Will he rape me? Beat me?

  “I’m sorry. Please don’t be angry, I didn’t follow you to give you away, I didn’t want to be all alone,” Christy cried out, petrified.

  Lando took her struggling form into the small cave, where he dumped her down and pulled the door across. She was trapped; there was no escape—like with Chad. Once released, she crawled past the blazing fire, scooting as far from him as possible. Christy continued to scream until her throat protested in agony. The pain had been subsiding, yet returned with a vengeance, until her voice trailed off to a pitiful, hiccupping whimper. Her hands became bloodied as she clawed at the sides of the cave. Fear consumed her until she swore she was in her kitchen cowering on the floor.