CHAPTER 15
When I had called my negotiator person and asked for a job, he seemed very skeptical, see I never called in request for a person’s name; they called me and gave me the coordinates of where I was going to find him and a brief description of the person. Never a name. This time differed just with me calling. When Trent had a job for me, he had the information already gathered for me both of the place and the description of the person. He hadn’t planned anything for me, so I received a name.
"Boss wants it biblical. He already has someone else in mind for the job. Sorry." His voice didn’t even sound apologetic, I had to think for a long time before I recalled any kind of expression to it. Ever. But this was a special occasion. I was asking for a name! Come on, show some cooperation, man.
"What if you swap the person with me without making any notifications?" An innocent smile ghosted on my lips as strolled down the pier. Trent had forbid of leaving the house, I wondered what would happen if he’d found out I was looking for a job and asking for the one who was supposed to be grand.
"And lose my head? I’m not even supposed to be talking to you. He forbid any of the agents to answer your calls." Agent was what the assassins called their connection to the boss. If this particular person who handed me my assignments got caught up in something and could not hand me out the necessary information in order for me to make the kill, there was always a backup for him. There was backup for everyone, even me. Every time I did the killings, there was a person from afar making sure everything goes according to a plan and so the victim stayed dead. In order to keep my secrecy I was supposed to be fast when I went in close encounter. If I made appearance in public places, I had to do it from afar. The backup received coordinates of the victim as soon as I did, so speed had to be an obligatory. As soon as I agreed to the job, the agent sent the same information I had received to the backup, maybe even a little bit more, because backups were always somewhat new to this business and most of the time they were just assassins in training. "Listen," He sighed and I instantly knew I was getting the job, "I can’t vacate the job, but I can give you the name," he whispered, "Lee Walker."
Walker. The name was one of the most common in the states. Great. I stopped in front of the only pay-phone which had a phone book attached to it and it was near the pier. I turned the pages, looking for the right letter my finger slid down the yellow pages, there were loads of surnames starting with ‘V’ and when I got to ‘W’ – there were no pages of ‘W’. That was not a coincidence, nothing in this world was coincidental.
I crossed the street and made my way to the building where I rented a storage room. It was where I kept most of the illegal firearms I received and no, I wasn’t renting it under my name, did I really look that incompetent?
It would have been wise if I had chosen to do the killing from afar. But no. When had Elle Morrison been wise?
My eyes slid over a black suitcase with a sniper rifle in it, but no, I had to take the explosives. I wanted to recreate the view of fourth of the July all over again. As I packed all my things in a leather bag, I called another someone and asked for the precise location of that Lee person. He was home.
I left the storage room and went for the bus stop. Yes, sometimes even Elle Morrison took a bus. It wasn’t something that unbelievable. It was required for the job and I was a small pedant when things came to perfect performance. The drive was not long, just good twenty minutes. Twenty minutes I could’ve spent elsewhere.
I went along the street. 6432 Gloria Dr. I came to meet with a one story house and realized I had brought a little too much dynamite sticks, but better safe than sorry, right?
I adjusted the strap on my shoulder and with a deep breath went for the house. In order to blow it off its foundation, I had to make sure that none of the civilians were going to get injured. I was about to step on the porch, when I looked inside the window and saw not only my victim, but his whole family. Damn, I had to cancel everything.
Dammit!
I turned on my heel and crossed the street with a loud bang and a wave of heat escorting me from behind. Hesitantly I looked over my shoulder with a raised eyebrow. The house was getting devoured by flames. I could even make out the burning silhouettes inside the living room.
Very, very slowly I took off the leather bag from my shoulder and inspected the contents of it. One, two, three… nine dynamite sticks. My gaze slid back to the now burning house. And back to my bag again.
Now this was just stupid!
"Come on!" An irritated cry escaped me. The bag dropped to the pavement, I couldn’t believe my eyes. It didn’t take long to hear sirens enclosing in a practiced crescendo. The first car to appear the sight was cops.
Play casual, Morrison.
"Miss, please, stay back!" The cop got out of the car and I played my best performance yet, trying to look as horrified as I could possibly be. When the firefighters showed up, I decided to ditch the party. The cops were too busy scratching their heads and trying to figure out what to write in the record under the aisle of ‘cause’, while the real heroes were the firefighters who were sweating like pigs in the heat.
The person who did this was real smart. Explosives attached to the gas pipe and voilà – you have a handful of flames nobody can extinguish without turning the valve. All evidence burns away.
So do the civilians.
Son of a…
I left the scene with anger running through my veins. If only I knew – who.
Before I had decided on the mass destruction of gummy bears, which I picked up at Trader Joe’s, I ran up to the storage room and shoved the bag deep in the darkest corner.
As soon as I got back to the pier, I opened the gummy bear pack and started ravaging every each and one of them. It was getting cloudy and I was upset. I ignored every bench my eyes met with and sat down on the edge of the pier. I wasn’t that upset about the loss of my victim, I was more upset that some other person blew up the house instead of me. I wanted to do that!
The phone rang deep in the pocket of my shorts for a couple of times. I ignored it and threw a red gummy bear in my mouth. The warm wind was messing up my hair and I sighed heavily. It was going to rain. The rest of the people had also came to the same conclusion and were slowly leaving the sight. I raised my eyes to the sky and saw it in the mix of grey and marine blue. Just then I realized I was running low on the gummy bears. Could this day get any better?
"Elle!" A deep voice shouted from afar as the wind got stronger. Well slap my ass and call me Macy, it definitely could.
The salty ocean air was filling my nostrils. I liked it here, I liked the feeling I got before the storm. It was somehow dramatic, but at the same time I felt relaxed. I should’ve known it would rain, it’s been swelling hot all day.
"Morrison!" The voice got closer.
So he was truly calling me by my name. A big raindrop landed on the plastic pack of where my gummy bears used to be. Let’s make a deal – I’ll give him a gummy bear if he yells my middle name too!
"I really believe you have some fucking hearing problems." He was coming closer and quite frankly, it was truly hard to hear him because of the wind. I looked up and met a furious pair of browns. The wind was blowing the thin structure of his darkish v-neck t-shirt, the same went for his hair. Last I saw him, he had overdosed with the hairspray and now it seemed like he hadn’t put any. "Stand up let’s get going."
"No…" I mouthed. Some raindrops soothed my heated skin. "I kinda like it here."
"Don’t fuck with me." He came closer, a car key hanging from his fist. So he was here to pick me up. I rested my forearms on one of the railings. "Get up and let’s go to the fucking car." His voice was calm. I noticed him taking a deep breath.
I shook my head being the stubborn pain in the ass I was. He came awfully close, looking down at me, his body all tensed up. "Elle, I’m not joking." His eyes became dark, as if he was signing a deal with the devil before pushing me off the pier just because I was not obeying him. We’re getting dominant weren’t we? This is all the gratitude I get for getting him some alone time with the blonde bimbo? Speaking of which, where was that unlucky pile of human excrement’s? "You really want to be locked in the trunk?" A glimpse of amusement sparked in his eyes, only for a second, but it was there.
"Relax and sit down." I patted on the wooden surface beside me. He was hesitant. Instead of getting himself on the ground, he went for the bench which was just a few feet away. "It’s beautiful, isn’t it?" I went back on gazing over the horizon. "I had a really awful day today…" I felt like I was supposed to say something to him, so why not just talk about something out of my daily basis?
I pulled my leg up from over the edge and turned so my side would be facing him. He was sitting there, with his forearms on his thighs and cracking the hell out of his knuckles. "When I went to work, the building blew up…" His eyes were wary, as if he was putting two and two together. It’s a shame he was missing something so in order to get four out of the equation, he got three. He was close. "What would happen if I told you I was insane?"
"I guess I would just have to bear with it." He wrinkled his eyebrows.
"Would you leave?" This time I was the one who was wary.
"If you tried to kill me… yes." Couple of raindrops landed on the wooden surface of the pier and some of them landed on my bare legs. He sighed obviously getting irritated with my unusual behavior, "But then again, you tried. And I’m still here. Still looking after your stupid boney ass."
"Can you keep a secret, Brian?" I ate my very last gummy bear and did something green peace activists would probably kill me for- I set the plastic bag free, in other words, I threw it over the edge.
"Morrison, get to the chase, you’re starting to get on my fucking nerves." He stood up, obviously tired of my presence.
"When do I not get on your fucking nerves?" Just curious, you know.
"If you acted like a normally functioning adult, we wouldn’t be having this conversation." He sighed in his palm.
"But I told you – I’m insane. How can an insane person act like the rest of the society?"
"You’re not fucking insane…"
"Oh yeah?" I questioned. He thinks he’s smart…
"Spoiled is what you are."
"Well you know what? I’ve killed someone." Silence. A good couple of seconds of silence, before he slowly raised his head from his palm, heavy raindrops washing over him. "Actually 97 someones to be more precise." I smiled as he looked over his shoulder.
"Fine. A delusional spoiled brat." He stated simply, eyeing me closely. It seemed like something had clicked in his head. "Or maybe you are insane."