Seven years ago.
Wraith watched as his target, the good senator from Texas, moved through the hotel lobby and approached the front desk. He felt his pulse jump at the sight of his quarry. He was so excited that he had to fight the urge to jump up from the couch he was sitting on and dispatch the politician right where he stood. Mentally he scolded himself for such a rash impulse and reminded himself that patience and precision were what he needed.
He did not want his career as a professional tool of destruction to end as suddenly as it had started. Only two weeks ago he had been working part time at a movie rental store, barely able to afford his rent, let alone the tools he liked to pick up for his favorite hobby. A man in dark clothes that kept to the shadows had materialized out of nowhere after he had finished slicing up a dancer from the topless bar and offered him a job. This job.
The money had been outstanding, but what had caught Wraith's attention the most was the promise of future work if he did this one correctly. Wraith loved to kill people, and he loved to destroy things. He loved adding to the chaos that ran rampant through the world in every way that he could. The idea of making a living out of doing such things had never even occurred to him in his wildest dreams.
That was why he needed to make sure that he did this job perfectly. The Devoted Brotherhood of Anarchy was willing to pay a lot of money to have him be their little windup soldier with a knife in one hand and a bomb in the other. That was, of course, if he passed the interview process. Killing the senator and making it look like environmentalist activists was his interview. If he did this right, the money and the fun would come pouring in.
At first the thought had seemed strange to Wraith. Whoever was behind this organization seemed to have a lot of wealth and power at their disposal. Wealthy and powerful men usually only want to accumulate more wealth and power. The members of The Devoted Brotherhood of Anarchy, however, seemed to view their wealth and power as a means to an end. They did not care to prolong the status quo, but rather seemed intent on bringing it to its knees. Wraith liked their thinking and wanted to have a long a fruitful relationship with them.
First things first, however. Wraith kept an eye on the senator as he stepped into the elevator and ascended to his floor of the Adams Mark Hotel. He was here as part of a campaign to elect his friend and oil partner to the office of President. Grand Junction was one of the many stops he was making throughout the western states in an attempt to secure the vote of both Republicans and Independents. Wraith was sure that they hoped to pick up a few Democrats' votes as well, but that was not exactly their focus.
Wraith did not care about the politics of it all. As far as he was concerned, neither a Democratic President, nor a Republican one would move the country into the anarchy that he longed for. Executing members of both sides and blaming the extremists for it, however, was a nice move in the right direction. He was glad that he was being allowed to play a role in that. He smiled to himself and returned his eyes to the newspaper he had been pretending to read intently.
There was a piece in it about the floundering economy, but he did not care to read what it had to say. His personal economics were about to receive a major boost. Damn everybody else. As far as he was concerned, a poor economy only opened the door to greater opportunity for anarchy to flourish. Class envy runs rampant when there are a lot more poor individuals than rich ones. No matter what the state of the economy was, however, he had much more pressing matters to concern himself with.
He casually stood up and stretched before heading for the stairs. Wraith deposited the paper in a trash can as he made his way across the lobby. He did not even glance in the direction of the elevators as he walked. He knew which room the senator was staying in, and he had a room on the same floor. His surveillance of the lobby had only been in order to see when the good senator decided to grace the hotel with his presence.
Wraith smiled a shark's smile as he began to ascend the stairs. Soon his hands would be covered in the blood of the most influential person he had ever had the opportunity to murder. He kept his pace even as he made his way upward. He did not want to be out of breath when he reached his floor. After all, the senator would not be alone, and Wraith was going to need to subdue a few secret service agents before he could have his way with the politician.
This was not a big problem for him, but he wanted to be certain that he had plenty of energy for the task. He reached the top floor where both he and the senator where staying. Of course, he was not checked in under his real name, nor was he checked in under the name Wraith. He was checked in under the name Charles Dumont. His face currently matched the photo ID for Mr. Dumont, which included a brown handlebar moustache and short brown hair that greyed slightly at the temples. Wraith covered his pale blue eyes with dark brown contact lenses.
Originally Wraith had entertained a number of clever ways that he thought about using to approach the senator and take care of business. One of them had been to dress the part of a hotel employee offering complimentary room service. Another had actually been to dress up as a maid, but he had quickly thrown that idea out. Wraith was not afraid to cross dress to get the job done, but it just didn't seem practical.
Finally, he decided that the best manner would be to get a room on the same side of the hallway as the senator. He would not use any disguises, nor would he use any real subtlety. Instead, he would use the adjoining doors that all the rooms had to make his way to the senator's room without fear of being seen by the hotel security cameras. This would give him the most amount of time to play without having to worry about the police being called.
Wraith stepped into his room and checked his Berretta that had its barrel threaded for a sound suppressor. He had not used it for anything other than target practice before and he hoped that he would be able to handle it right in a situation like this. He also hoped that the sound suppressor that was currently attached to the barrel would not throw off his aim. He had not been able to have it on his gun while he used it at the firing range. A silencer might have drawn unwanted attention since he was supposedly practicing for the sake of personal protection.
Now was not the time for self-doubt or hesitation, though, so he simply made sure that the weapon was loaded and the safety was off. As soon as he was certain that quiet bullets would be released from the weapon with lethal intent at his command, he moved up to the door that connected his room to the next. It was time to prove himself. It was time to kill people. It was time for fun.
Wraith liked the idea of kicking in the door and stepping into the next hotel room with his gun at the ready. A dramatic entry like the ones in movies. In all reality, though, he knew that this would only cause a lot of noise and arouse suspicion. Instead of using the noisy route, he pointed the Berretta at the locked doorknob and squeezed the trigger. With a slight cough, the gun bit out at the lock and rendered it useless. He then accessed the room as if it were his own and did a quick survey of the interior.
A man was sitting on the bed watching television and was only now beginning to register that he had a visitor. Wraith brought his gun to bear and sent the man over backwards with a bullet in his head. It was such a silent kill. The man had not even had a chance to cry out before he was permanently silenced. Wraith was almost sad that he did not have more time to play with this victim, but he was aware of higher priorities.
Water was running in the bathroom and he went to the open doorway. He smiled at the sound of a woman humming to herself. Under different circumstances, he would have had a lot of fun with her. He still could have a little bit of fun. She needed to die. He could not have let her get out of the shower and discover her husband or boyfriend dead on the bed. That would simply make for a complicated night for him. Wraith did not like complications.
He yanked the shower curtain back and covered her mouth with his hand before she could scream. She looked to be about forty, but she had a nice body for her age. Clearly she had never had any children as evidenced by the flat stomach and no signs of stretch marks as the soapy water ran over her naked form. She had small breasts with pointy nipples that trembled slightly as she shook with fear. She had been in the act of shaving her vagina and had dropped the razor on the floor of the tub with the task half finished.
Wraith was nearly intoxicated as he took it all in. He licked his lips as he relished the sight of her nakedness as well as the terror in her eyes. He raised the barrel to his lips and gestured for her to remain quiet. After this, he moved the gun to where it pointed at her chest. With the sound suppressor pressed against her body, he trailed his weapon along her slippery wet skin. He moved it over her left breast and then snaked it down to her navel. He let it hesitate there and watched her eyes widen.
Instead of pulling the trigger, he moved the gun again. This time he moved it lower until it was even with her half shaved privates. He smiled from ear to ear as he rotated his wrist and slipped the barrel in between her pale legs and up inside her body. He was so aroused that he nearly came in his pants as he raped her with the gun.
"You like that don't you?" He sneered. "You like the way that feels inside you. You are a filthy whore."
With that, he finally squeezed the trigger three times, each time wiggling the gun a little to let the bullets take different paths through her body. A muffled gasp fought its way through his hand and Wraith trembled with excitement. He kept his hand over her mouth even as she sank down in the shower due to her legs losing their strength. It was only when her eyes fluttered shut for the last time that he finally took his hand off her mouth. She would not be able to raise alarm.
Wraith pulled the barrel out from her and brought it up to his nose. He inhaled her fragrance deeply and then ran his tongue along the wet barrel. It was very erotic for him. He was still so excited that he could have ravaged her mouth until he exploded. He did not allow time for his luxury. He needed to keep moving. Wraith dried the gun and his hands on the towel and then left the bathroom. He moved to the next connecting door and reloaded as he prepared himself.
This room held the secret service agents that had come with the senator. They would not be so easy to dispatch. They were not helpless victims that had only a scream for defense. Wraith went through the door the same way that he entered this room and performed his quick survey. One agent sat on a twin bed and the other one was in the bathroom.
The man on the bed registered the intruder much faster than the civilian had and his hand was reaching for his shoulder holster at the same time that Wraith took aim at his chest and fired twice. The agent grunted with the impact of the lethal bullets as he went over backwards. He fell to the floor and was only able to gasp once before death took him from the bullet that had pierced his heart.
As soon as Wraith saw the impact of the bullets he switched his attention to the agent in the bathroom. He could not afford to focus on the first man when the second was already moving. Wraith hoped that his shots had been true and took aim at the man that was diving out of the bathroom in search of cover behind one of the twin beds.
Wraith sent two rounds through empty air and the agent landed safely on the floor of the hotel room. Wraith had noticed that the man was not armed, but he had a feeling that there was more on the floor beside the bed than simple cover. He did not want to give the man enough time to access his gun and fire back. He jumped up onto the first bed using the springs to propel himself through the air above the second bed.
As he flew through the air, he saw the agent surfacing with gun at the ready. The secret service man was definitely a pro, but he did not have his gun pointed in the right place. He was aiming at where Wraith had been standing as he dove out of the bathroom. He immediately saw Wraith flying through the air at him, but was not able to adjust his aim before a bullet slammed into his forehead. His head jerked backward and he dropped his gun.
Wraith landed on the edge of the bed and rolled off onto the dead agent. Immediately he rose up and checked on the first man he had shot. Once he was certain that they were both dead, he breathed a sigh of relief. These were the first people he had ever killed that had been armed and capable of defending themselves. He hated to admit it, but he had been nervous to face them.
Once these men were out of the picture, the rest of the job was fairly easy. He gained access to the senator's room and shot him in the head. He was not happy with the amount of violence that his gun had been responsible for, but at least he was finally able to use his knife. He whistled to himself and took his time. Once he was done, he stepped back and admired his work. Maybe he would never be compared with Michelangelo, but he was quite fond of his artwork.
An hour later he was handed a large sum of money and told the most beautiful words he had ever heard: 'Welcome to the Brotherhood'. The next day the senator was found by housekeeping. The valley exploded with the news of the senator's insides being spread out on the floor and arranged to form a large picture of a tree. Underneath this picture was the caption 'oil is murder' written in blood.
Federal agents came pouring into the valley and conducted their investigation, but no killer was ever found. Chaos reigned as environmentalists came under fire from Washington. Democrats and Republicans engaged in political warfare. Fingers were pointed and tempers flared. Before the fire was out, however, Wraith was already over a thousand miles away getting ready for his next assignment. Life was beautiful.