1 + 2

by Kristie Lynn Higgins

  "I am a beautiful woman." She grabbed both of her breasts and massaged them with her hands as she inquired, "What do you expect? He only wanted to fondle me, he said so, and he also said that he wanted to take me to plains of ecstasy."

  "He said that?" Nikolai yelled as his sister slowly walked over to him. "No one will look at you like that or say such things to you!" He fired a round into the man's heart, killing him and then turned, looking for others he could murder.

  Natasha looked to the dead man. His death had been a little too quick for her taste. Maybe the Closing upstairs would satisfy her morbid lust, and she said, "The guard never said that to me." She ran her fingers up her brother's massive arm to his back, and then she wrapped her arms around his waist, gripping him tightly in the front as she whispered, "How many times must I tell you that you cannot kill every man that glances at me?" She moved to the front of him and placed both her hands on his face. "There will be many, and you cannot kill all of them." Natasha saw his eyes bulge out in rage as they searched the area for more vile men he could kill.

  "But he..." Nikolai started till his sister leaned in and kissed him on the lips. The rage seething in him lessened, and he relaxed as he adoringly looked at his sister and kissed her back. She finished, and he told her, "I am sorry. I lost myself again."

  "It is fine, but do not let it happen..."

  A second guard exited an elevator, interrupting her and when the guard saw that Nikolai had killed his partner, the guard dropped his coffee and pulled his Python 4 revolver as he blurted, "Hold it right there!"

  As the guard covered her brother, Natasha reached for her left wrist, pulled a knife from the sheath, threw it, and hit the man in the throat. The guard fired as he grabbed at the steel in his wind pipe, and the wild shot hit the glass front door and shattered it. Shards rained, pinging to the tiled floor as the guard dropped his weapon and collapsed to his knees. He choked on his blood as he pulled a radio.

  Natasha walked over to him and kicked his revolver away as he tried to use the radio but only made gurgling sounds. He was lying on his back, so she sat on his stomach, looked at him with pity, covered his eyes with her left hand, and told him, "Do not look. The pain will be over soon." Natasha leaned to his ear and whispered, "From Moscow, with love. Now I will give you the Executioner's Adieu."

  She moved to his lips as blood bubbled from them and French kissed him, tasting a mixture of coffee and metallic saliva. He fought her erotic oral assault and dropped the radio to grab her arm and push her off, but before he could, she removed the knife from his wind pipe. Blood spurted her face and neck, and she arched back stimulated by the red gore and uttered a soft moan as her body tingled. Aroused by the blood, she watched as the guard held his throat, trying to prevent his own demise.

  Natasha waited till he died, wiped the knife on his shirt, cleaning off his blood, and sheathed the blade, and then she leaned to his ear and whispered to him as uncalloused as she could, "I am sorry. You were not meant to die, but you should know that I did enjoy your death." She stood, took one more moment to look at the man, walked to her brother, and berated him, "Look what has happened. We will have to file extra reports, and you know how I hate excess work. Not only that..." She glanced back at the second guard and then turned to her brother, questioning him, "How are we going to explain your actions to Voice and the Assassins Guild? You needlessly killed the first guard. He would not have stopped us from going up."

  He hung his head like a scolded child, replying, "I do not know."

  "We will say the guard tried to stop us and that you had to shoot him, and the second guard saw us kill his partner, and we had to kill him also. But you cannot keep doing this. Voice will find out."

  "If that happens, we will become marked for Closing like the Phoenix."

  "Yes, like the Phoenix," Natasha repeated as she smiled at her sulking brother. "Now cheer up. You still have your new toy to play with."

  "You are right." He went, picked up the case, and said, "Come, Tasha." He entered an elevator, pressed button thirty-one, and added, "Let us go blip off the bird."

  Puzzled by what her brother meant by his statement, she raised a black eyebrow, followed, and said, "Remember the Closing File states we keep collateral damage to a minimum."

  "A minimum, not zero."

  "Please do not kill anyone outside of the apartment." The elevator started up as she removed a gold compact and a white silk handkerchief from her satchel. She looked into the mirror and wiped some of the splatter from her face and neck as she said, "If we go out later, I will have to clean up. The guard is all over my face." She placed both items back into her satchel, the cab opened, and the two of them walked out as she asked, "What apartment number are we looking for?"

  Nikolai removed a H.H.C. from his suit pocket as they walked from the end of the hall, and he looked at the numbers on the doors before they passed them and stopped. "This is the one."

  She noticed a dark crack beneath the door and whispered, "The lights are out, so they are probably still sleeping. Do you want to knock?"

  "Knock? No, not with this heat." He patted the case, set it on the floor, opened it, and removed a Thompson Submachine Gun. "This bean-shooter announces itself."

  "Of all the people to idolize, you had to pick 1930's gangsters."

  "Every gink needs a hobby. I happen to be good at two."

  Natasha said, "Half the time, I do not know what you are saying."

  Nikolai winked at her, stood back, shot several rounds into the frame near the knob, and kicked in the splintered door. Light from the hallway rushed into the apartment as he proceeded down an entry, and an armed man appeared at the dark end. Nikolai fired, dropping the man and headed into the pitch black living room. He heard two men whispering, and Nikolai yelled like a maniac and wildly shot in their direction as gun blast lit up his smirking face. The men who were hiding behind a couch fired a round apiece and missed him before the Tommy sliced through the sofa and cut them down. Nikolai flipped on a light, retrieved his case, and reloaded, then he headed down a hallway, and kicked in the master bedroom door. The light was on, and a man was in bed with two women. The man had pulled an Olympic 6 revolver from a night stand.

  "I'll blow your head off!" the man threatened.

  The women squealed, covering themselves with the sheet, and one of them asked, "Vicky, is this another one of your sick games?"

  "No, babe, not this time." He aimed the revolver and cursed, "Puck! I don't know who this guy is." He snarled and yelled, "I'm Vic the Vulture. You don't know who yer messing with! I've a contract with the Valhalla Corporation." The man shot at him as he yelled, "I'm under their protection!"

  The bullet grazed Nikolai's shoulder and in anger, he grabbed the gun from Vic and pistol whipped him. One of the women screamed and covered her face with her hands as Nikolai continued to hit the man. He finished and threw Vic's gun across the room.

  Nikolai pointed the Tommy up, put one foot on the bed, and leaned toward Vic as he spat, "Here's the wire, lug. Your Chicago overcoat has done been fitted."

  Vic grabbed his bloodied cheek as he asked, "What are you blabbering about, you mother-pucker? What you're saying doesn't make any sense. All I know is yer dead! Dead when the corporation finds out you messed with me!"

  "Shut your trap! Your yap's why I'm here. Your so called friends at Valhalla found out that the trade secrets you were supposed to be brokering for them, you've also been selling off to other corporations." Nikolai's demeanor changed from one of a wise guy to a serious Life Closer as he spoke, "Victor L. Boons also known as Vic the Vulture, on behalf of Valhalla, I am terminating your contract."

  "Wait! You can't! They can't! Puck! It's a mistake. I've only sold to Valhalla!"

  "It is no use lying to me. They have audio evidence that you did it."

  "I... I can explain. Let me get their Vice President on the phone."

  "Did you not
read your contract with them?" Nikolai shook his head, irritated by the man's ignorance and said, "You should have read it more closely. By signing, you agreed to the Life Closer Clause should you violate the contract, and there are no second chances." He glanced at the two hookers. "It is a pity these two women are here. They would not have to die, if they had not seen my face." Nikolai opened up one last volley, and the women screamed. White goose down flew up from the dozens of bullet impacts in the mattress, and the feathers fell like snow, landing on the three bodies and blood slowly tainted the down as Nikolai added, "As stipulated, your employment has been terminated."

  "My turn has finally come," Natasha said as she walked into the bedroom behind Nikolai. She had already secured the rest of the apartment. Natasha watched as Vic gasped, clinging to life then she walked over to him, bent down, and whispered in his ear, "From Moscow, with love. Now I will give you the Executioner's Adieu." Natasha French kissed him and as she intertwined her tongue with his, Vic died. She straightened, wiping blood from her lips with her index finger. "The Closing was most enjoyable." Natasha turned, saw her brother's wound, and scolded him, "Look at you. I hope you are happy." She examined the minor shoulder graze. "See what you get for wanting to play with your toy. You could have used a hand gun with a silencer." She glanced at the man in bed whose glassy eyes stared up at the ceiling. "If you had, Vic the Vulture would not have even known you were here, but you wanted to go all Al Ca-put."

  Nikolai pointed the Tommy gun up again as if posing for a picture. "He was named Al Capone, and it was worth it, my sister. I do feel like a gangster." He smoothed his fingers across the rim of his Fedora as he spoke, "Place our calling card, so we may leave before Noir Civil Police Force is called in. Dealing with the N.C.P.F. could be time consuming, so let our calling card talk for us."

  She nodded, walked over to Vic, and placed a business card of a wolf and raven on his chest. A barcode printed on the bottom of the card included the Life Closers' information, and the N.C.P.F. would use this card to verify the killings were Life Closings, not murders.

  "We only have one more assignment to complete, then we can leave this wretched Dark Half."

  "Yes, my sister. We only need to bop the Phoenix, and we can return home to Mother Russia."

  "It will not be so easy," Natasha said. "We do not know what the Phoenix looks like. Is this Life Closer a man, woman, or child? All we have is an appointed time and place for the Closing from Voice to find the Phoenix," she paused and then added, "And I do wish you would stop talking that way. Honestly, I do not know what you meant when you said you want to bop the Phoenix; it kind of had a sexual connotation, which I hope you did not intend."

  "No." His face reddened. "I did not mean..."

  She put her hand under his chin, reached up, and kissed him on the cheek. "Come then, I am famished. We will clean up, and I will tend to your shoulder and after that is done, we can see what fine delights Noir has to offer."

  Chapter Two

  A Past Mistake

  Nineteen days earlier...

  October 3...

  Wednesday...

  6:01 P.M...

  The Light Side...

  Russia...

  The end of the day swept across Moscow's Red Square as hundreds of tourists visited St. Basil's Cathedral, GUM department store, the Historical Museum, and many other attractions. The clear western sky exploded with hues of orange and red as the sun started its descent. Twilight approached this part of the Light Side of the planet, and it was a place where the sun existed, separating day from night. Dry Clouds didn't pollute the air or obscure the heavens, and darkness didn't rule the land. Eventually even this part of the world would be covered if the Dry Clouds were not stopped; they spread about an inch every week.

  Ten days before meeting Kat, Kim walked out of GUM department store and put on sunglasses before stepping out into early evening, protecting her eyes. A native of the Dark Half of the planet, the sun's light hurt her even near the twilight hours. She pulled back her blonde hair, tied it in a pony tail, buttoned up her long dark gray coat, and pulled on black gloves. Kim straightened a black knapsack slung over one shoulder as she noticed a woman holding a little girl in her arms and grinned. She had fond memories of her own mother that was until Kim turned eighteen. Her mother had left her and her father without a word nearly twenty years ago. At this time in her life, Kim hadn't yet discovered the truth about Theresa.

  Kim made her way out of Red Square, then hurried to Kalancheveskaya Street, and rushed to the rooftop of the Leningradskaya Hotel, making sure no one saw her. The sun plunged over the horizon, and darkness flooded the sky as she removed her sunglasses and placed them in the pocket of her coat. Kim pulled on a knit mask to hide her identity, not that she expected anyone to see her. She inhaled deeply, filled her lungs with the brisk air, and exhaled. Her hot breath appeared as mist. Winter would be there soon. The air smelled clean unlike Noir's, and it energized her and made her feel more alive. She waited for two hours near the ledge, kept to the shadows, and monitored the lit sidewalk below with binoculars. Kim glanced up at the cloudless night and noticed the stars were so bright. She couldn't even imagine that Noir's sky had looked like this once.

  She placed her knapsack near the ledge, moved to a different part of the roof, and pulled out a large case a Guild Prep/Cleanup Crew hid the day before. Kim removed the sections of a M24, put the sniper rifle together, then went to the ledge, and peered down the block through the scope. Her target would leave the tea house within the hour. Many people went in and out of bars, eateries, and stores. Kim glanced at her watch, saw it was time, placed a silencer on the rifle, and knelt beside the ledge. Peering through the scope, she aimed at the entrance of the tea house. She removed a H.H.C. from her coat pocket, opened up the Closing File on the touch screen, and studied the picture of the Mark. Voice had told her the target would be leaving around this time, so all she had to do was wait.

  Minutes turned into an hour, and soon a woman walked out of the tea house along with four armed bodyguards. Kim aimed for the woman's heart, waiting for a clear shot as people walked by on the sidewalk. A limo pulled up, and one of the bodyguards moved to the vehicle and opened the back door. She put her finger to the trigger, ready to pull it, when the target paused and turned. A little girl ran out of the tea house and took the woman's hand. The child held something. Kim glanced up from the scope.

  Kimberly's view...

  Voice said nothing about the woman having a child. Hades! It should have been included in the Closing File. I peer back through the scope, taking aim again, and I place my finger back on the trigger. The woman and the child walk forward to enter the limo and pause as the little girl kneels to tie her shoe. The child lays an object on the sidewalk, grabs her laces, and ties them.

  My hands tremble, so I remove my finger from the trigger. Hades! I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm acting like this is my first kill, but that happened years ago, and I have long since harden my heart to my work. I take several deep breaths till my hands stopped shaking, and then I place my finger back to the trigger. I can't let whatever's affecting me to get in the way; I need to take the shot.

  The child laughs, and after finishing with her laces, the child picks up the object. She glances up at her mother with adoration.

  I berate myself as I delay in taking the shot. It's my job; I have to kill the woman. For Ares' sake! It doesn't matter if the child's watching. My usual calm heart pounds with indecision. I can't let the thought of the child seeing her mother murdered affect me. Even in the cool air, sweat speckles my brow beneath the mask and absorbs into the material. I aim again, and this time I won't hesitate. A street vender approaches, selling glowing balloons as I still struggle with the shot.

  Hades! Pull the trigger! Who cares what happens to the little girl? I look up from the scope, thinking of my past. Look how I turned out without a mom. I s
hake my head to erase the feelings of abandonment, peer one last time into the scope, and with shaky resolve, pull the trigger.

  A balloon pops...

  Chapter Three

  Picking Up From Where We Left Off

  Present time...

  October 22...

  Friday...

  12:56 P.M...

  Noir...

  Hellenistic Sector, Commercial Vicinage...

  Katharine's view...

  A dim light illuminates a back alley as I glance around a corner of an old brick building and peer at the end of a deserted road. A ten foot chain link fence surrounds the back entrance of our destination. The wind blows a newspaper along the bottom of the barrier, changes direction, and flattens the debris against the diamond mesh. The newspaper flaps in the breeze before the wind tumbles it further down the road. I look within the fence and see a S.C.M. sitting in a guardhouse. He's reading a Guns&Knives magazine and drinking coffee, and every ten minutes or so, he looks up from his reclined position. I imagined this place having better security as I glance at a scrap piece of paper; it's the address the hologram Theresa Griffin gave us. I sigh, disappointed with the defense and the rundown appearance of the building. It has to have some information about the Pandora Project. I couldn't have gotten my hopes up just to find a load of crap.

  Kimberly stands beside me and peers through night vision binoculars. She wears her all black work outfit consisting of thin gloves, a tank top, jogging pants, running shoes, and a zipped up hooded sweatshirt. I'm wearing my usual white t-shirt, a gray-black athletic jacket, and gray-black pants.

  "What do you see?" I ask her.

  Kimberly's view...

  "Considering who you are, I thought you would have super vision," I tell her, referring to her being the Pandora Project.

  I reluctantly partnered with that strange woman four days ago, and I'm still uneasy about the collaboration. There's something about her... There's something I can't put my finger on. Hades! I hate this. I was told she's the Key, but never what she was the key of. I glance up from the binoculars, thinking about the Rogue. It claimed that she was organic-mecha, a robot that can completely pass as human. I think that would be worse than being some sort of messed up human experiment, and considering the organic-mecha dilemma, I can't trust her or her motives for wanting to partner with me, not that I ever trusted her.