I grit my teeth as rapid clicking ensues from his mechanical keyboard. “Alright, I’m tapped into cameras. You know we have a team that specializes in tracking targets, right? I only see one guy. Northwest corner of the building. Quick access from a side door about forty feet behind you. Why didn’t you send Rev on this one?”
“Check surrounding buildings. I’m not about to walk into a trap.”
Palming the hilt of my knife tucked into my jacket, I half-tune out Alaric, rattling off confirmations that the area is clear as I backtrack through the library to the second exit point. I tap my earpiece to hang up the call, not wanting Alaric to ruin the buzz from my kill.
Silent as death, I slip out the side door. A fresh wave of adrenaline surges through my veins as I creep toward my target still facing the door he shot up.
With no witnesses or other enemies in sight, I wrap an arm around his neck. I jerk him back hard and thrust my blade into his kidney. His gun clatters to the street, but I’m not done. I stab him again, closer to his spine, my pressure on his windpipe strong enough to keep him from producing more than a pained wheeze.
Warm blood sweeps over my gloved hand, slithering down my bare wrist. My face twists in disgust at the idea of this guy’s fucking fluids on me.
Shoving my target forward, I tear my blade across his throat. His body crumples, and the anger I’ve been harboring since last night finally wanes. It should make me feel better, but this fury is the only thing that makes me feel alive most days.
Flicking blood from my knife, I tuck it back in my jacket. Only then do I become aware of eyes on me.
I whirl on the figure standing at the mouth of the alley, Glock aimed at his skull. My hands drop slightly when I see the pretty guy from inside the library. He’s not holding a weapon. He’s just staring at me with wide eyes.
God dammit.
Is he an accomplice? Hedidlock eyes on me in the library for a questionable amount of time. Why the fuck else would he hang around to watch me stab a guy?
I wait for him to make a move, my finger refusing to put that final incremental pressure on the trigger.
No longer hidden behind a computer monitor, I can properly take him in. Dressed in worn punk rock clothes, he looks young. Maybe twenty, if I had to guess. He’s average in height, but lean. Safety pins line the rips in his tight black jeans. He’s speared quite a few of them through his ears, too. I can’t help but grimace. Is that what the youth are into these days?
The fact that I’m hesitating is further proof I should have sent Rev on this job.
“Hey,” I call out to the guy, not really sure what I plan to do with him, or why I’m even talking to him.
He turns and bolts for the busy street, and I let out a string of curses, lowering my gun. I debate giving chase. First, I need to dispose of a body.
Local police don't stand a chance at shutting me down. But the public might raise flags if they discovered just how many people my company skillfully drops in this city.
I toss the dead guy and his gun into a dumpster and call Henry, head of my clean-up crew, as police sirens wail in the distance.
“Hey, boss. I was just wondering when I’d hear from you. How many you got for me?” Henry asks.
Irritation flickers in my chest. “Just one. Side street of Cincinnati. First green dumpster.”
“Consider him gone.” Henry drops the line.
Striding out onto the busy main street, I sweep the crowds for my runner. Henry turns into view in a garbage truck. Even from this distance, I can see his villainous grin behind the windshield.
Henry enjoys clean up work. Personally, I think it’s fucked up. Then again, all of us at Sinro Enterprises are a bit fucked to be doing what we do and still operating a normal business by day. Monsters parading around in the skin of humans, pretending to feel a whole spectrum of emotions when some of us just… don’t.
My phone vibrates, and I groan when I see Rev’s text pop up across the screen.Heard you got another runner, hotshot.
Fucking Alaric. Did he have eyes on the guy the entire time and didn’t care to inform me? Granted, I know Alaric’s been hyper-focused on figuring out what’s on that hard drive, among all the other shit we throw at him.
Rolling my eyes, I slide open the text and fire back a message to Rev.Get on the hunt. I have a 1PM meeting I can’t miss.
With a heavy sigh, I send off one more message I know I’m going to regret.Runner is young, Rev. Assess before you shoot.
Several messages buzz in response as I shove my phone in my jacket pocket. Rev’s never going to let me live this down.
After retrieving my briefcase from the pawn shop roof, I stride into a hotel lobby to change back into the three-piece suit I'd stowed away in a bathroom stall.
I give in to the craving for a massive craft coffee from the hotel lobby before crossing the river bridge to find my black Benz parked in a public garage.
