Hotel 72: The Last Hit

by Anthony Ivins

him. Robert continued to watch as the second dog was brought out of the van. This one was a Beagle and not a very intimidating sight. He was small and compact and looked as if he was there to have some fun. He looked up at his handler and wagged his tail, as if he was waiting for a treat. The handler bent down and patted him on the head before leading him up the stairs and into the hotel.

  Robert waited patiently with the rest of the people while the dogs were hard at work, sniffing for explosives. Robert knew they would not find any as he was the one that sent the message of the bomb. He wanted to see what the reaction time of the police would be and now he knew.

  After another two hours of standing on the pavement, the dogs exited the hotel and were bundled into the back of the van. The two handlers climbed in, waved at the police officers and drove off. One of the police officers walked up to them, “Okay folks, you can go back inside. It seems somebody was having some fun.”

  “Are you sure it is safe?” asked the old lady.

  “Yes Mam,” replied the police officer, “the dogs have covered every square inch of the hotel and if there was anything they would have found it.”

  “Great thank you officer,” she replied and started hobbling back to the hotel.

  Robert waited until most of the people had made their way back before he joined the line. As he walked into the entrance he saw that one of the police officers was staring at him. He put his head down and walked straight ahead, trying to blend in. As he went behind a pillar he changed direction and walked hastily to the elevator.

  As usual he timed the trip up to the seventh floor. This time it was 24 seconds. When the elevator doors opened, he kept his head away from the CCTV cameras and walked to his room, opening the door and slipping inside. Robert was worried about the police officer that was staring at him. It had happened before that he had bumped into one of his old school friends whilst on a job and in disguise, almost being caught out. He had to silence the friend, permanently.

  As much as he tried to remember, the face of the police officer did not ring any bells so he dismissed it from his mind, “No use worrying about it, he is probably long gone by now,” he thought to himself. Robert looked at his watch, it was 3-00pm. He went to his rucksack and pulled out a small laptop and switched it on.

  He logged in with an extremely long password. Robert always liked using a phrase as a password, it was easy to remember and almost impossible to be hacked. He opened up his Wi-Fi settings and connected to the hotel network, entering his details as he had done the day before. Robert opened up his Chrome browser and typed “Marcus Wahlberg” into the search box. He hit the search button and within milliseconds the search returned over one thousand hits.

  Robert looked at the first one, it was a headline from the USA Today from three months ago, “Activists Block Entrance to French Nuclear Plant.” He clicked on the link and read the full article. Marcus and some fellow activists were demanding the closure of the aging Fessenheim Nuclear Power Plant in France. The Plant was located in a densely-populated part of France and close to the borders of Germany and Switzerland. A Nuclear fallout from this plant, as had been seen at Chernobyl and Fukushima, would have devastating consequences.

  Robert continued looking at the results of the search, going into different articles and finding out more about his mark. He saw a picture of Marcus tied to an enormous Redwood tree with a large bulldozer standing in front of him. The caption beneath that photograph read, “Save the Redwoods.” Robert was becoming intrigued with Marcus who had travelled all over the world, being a part of many protests. He would appear in a photograph saving the Amazon Forest and then a few months later would appear in another photograph standing on a small boat with his hands high in the air right in the path of a gigantic Japanese whaler.

  One link though stood out for Robert, and he was intrigued by the title, “Rainbow Warrior Sunk by French Spies.” Robert had heard about this event years ago and clicked on the link. He browsed through the overview and then started reading the detail. Marcus was a passenger on the Greenpeace ship Rainbow Warrior when it was sunk in Auckland harbour by two French foreign intelligence operatives as part of Operation Satanique. Marcus was sleeping on the ship at that time and had only just managed to escape, unlike one of his colleagues who perished.

  Two French divers had placed limpet mines onto the hull of the ship. The first mine detonated and blew a hole the size of a car in the hull of the ship. Ten minutes later a second blast went off which threw Marcus into the water, where he was dragged to safety by his colleagues. Four minutes after the second blast, the ship sank.

  Robert’s mind was imagining what it must have been like on that ship. He felt a small pang of regret ripple through his body. It would be a pity to kill this man, especially after reading all these stories. It seemed that Marcus was a noble man who fought hard for many just causes. “Oh well, he must have pissed somebody off,” he thought to himself.

  He went onto Facebook and searched for Marcus, finding him right at the top of the list. He had close to four thousand friends. Robert looked at his profile picture which was of Marcus, a woman and two children. They were sitting on a wooden fence with what looked like Mount Everest in the background. He read a few of his posts and looked at his photos, which were all of his family.

  They seemed to live a happy life if the photographs were to be believed. Marcus took his family with him wherever he went. There were photos of them in the snow, lying on desolate beaches, flying kites and just about anything else you could imagine. Robert looked at the two children, they were close to the same age as his two. He suddenly felt a yearning for home and he closed down his browser and opened up his Skype application.

  Robert had only one contact; home. He double clicked on the name and it started calling his home. It only rang three times before he heard that familiar voice on the other end, “Daddy,” it was his daughter Zoe. It took a few seconds for her face to appear in the video window. She was smiling from ear to ear.

  “How are you honey?” he asked.

  “We're fine daddy, when are you coming home?” asked Zoe, “We miss you.”

  “In a couple of days’ time honey,” he replied, “I am just finishing up some deals here. How is school going?”

  “It’s going fine. Lots of homework,” she said.

  “Well make sure you finish it all before I get back so we can go and see that movie you been nagging me about,” said Robert.

  “Twilight?” asked Zoe excitedly, “Can I bring a friend? Please.”

  “Yes, but only one. Not seven like last time,” said Robert, laughing.

  “Oh that’s great, thanks Dad, you’re the best,” said Zoe as she leant over and gave the camera a kiss.

  “Is your mother around?” asked Robert.

  “Yes she is in the kitchen getting dinner ready. Must I call her for you?” she asked.

  “Yes please,” he replied.

  Zoe left the room and Robert could hear her shouting for her mother down the passage. It took a few seconds before his wife’s face filled the screen.

  “Hello Baby,” he said when she sat down.

  “Hi Honey, how is the trip going?” she replied.

  “It’s going well. I signed up two dealers today and I have another three appointments tomorrow,” he replied.

  “Wow that’s great news,” she said, “When are you coming home?”

  “On Thursday,” replied Robert, “I am coming in on the red eye.”

  “Okay great so you will be here by eight then?” she asked.

  “Yes why?” asked Robert.

  “Ben has a soccer match, and he really wants you to be there. You’ve missed the last three,” she said.

  “Yeah I know,” said Robert biting his lip, “Tell him I will definitely be there. Where is he now?”

  “He is in the bath,” she replied.

  “Okay don’t bother him then. I will see him on Thursday,” said Robert, “You know Baby I’ve been thinking about a
ll this travelling. I was thinking that this might be my last trip. I need to spend more time with you and the kids.”

  “Really? Are you serious?” replied his wife Lisa, her face a picture of disbelief, “That would be fantastic!”

  “Yes I am dead serious. I am tired of travelling, really tired,” said Robert.

  “That is good news honey,” said Lisa, tears starting to well up in her eyes.

  “Well, I’d better go. I have another meeting in ten minutes,” said Robert, having to clear his throat to get the words out, “Love you lots and see you soon. Send my love to the kids.”

  “I will. I love you too Honey. Come home safely,” she replied and blew him a kiss.

  Robert ended the call and sat there for a moment in silence on the end of the bed. He placed his hands behind his head and flopped backwards onto the bed. “I really have had enough,” he thought to himself, “this is my last job. After this I am retiring.”

  The fee for this hit was one and a half million dollars. A substantial amount more than his usual one hundred thousand dollar price tag. This was part of his motivation for retiring, he would now have enough money to support his family for many years ahead. He wondered who, or rather why, would anybody pay one and half million dollars to kill an environmentalist?

  With that thought in his head he glanced at his watch and jumped off the bed. He had a dinner date with the Jacksons in fifteen minutes. Robert rushed into