Story Five - Hit me baby, one more time

17/11/2012 11:20

"Emily, will you marry me?" asked Victor from his down-on-one-knee position.   Her response was to throw her arms around him almost knocking him onto the rain-slicked promenade.


The next morning, he awoke to find himself alone in bed and a text on his 'phone; "rly call from boss c u l8r <3".   He sighed and wondered if, as a fiance, he had more right to ask her to change her job than he had as a mere boyfriend.   Then again, perhaps it was time to change his own line of work.


30 miles away, Emily crouched on top of a tall building screwing the telescopic sight onto her rifle.   Suddenly a voice crackled in her ear.   "Target has left building.   IC1 male; white hair; dark grey suit.   ETA 3 minutes."

With the sight in place, she got into position with the rifle braced against her shoulder.   She twisted the sight to adjust the focus and waited.   "ETA 30 seconds," came the voice of her contact, "20... 10...9..."

At five she took a deep breath and held it.   The target appeared in her sight and she pulled the trigger, letting out the breath as he fell.   She was on the move instantly, unscrewing the parts of the rifle and stuffing them into her holdall as she went.   There was another appointment that she needed to keep.


As Victor opened the door of their flat that evening a delicious smell wafted out towards him.   He hurried to the kitchen and wrapped his arms around Emily who was stirring something in a pan.   "That smells amazing," he murmured against her neck.

"My neck or the food?" she asked with a giggle.

"Yes," he replied.

Over dinner she gave him her news.

"A baby?!"   He came round the table and swept her up out of her seat.   "That's brilliant news!   You'll have to change your job, now."

"Change my job?   Where did that come from?"

"Oh, I was just thinking this morning...   You're on call to that boss of yours 24/7, for crying out loud.   You come and go at all hours.   And what are you, really?   Some kind of PA?   How many PAs work the hours you do?"

She opened her mouth to speak and then closed it, again.   "You know what?  You're right.   I have a job... project... to take care of, tomorrow.   It's something big, he said - some rival of his is getting a bit above himself - needs to be taught a lesson."   She shrugged and continued, "Don't understand the ins and outs, I just do what he tells me.   But when it's done, I'll hand in my notice.   OK?"

"It's more than OK!" he told her, happily.


The news that Emily was going to give up her job spurred Victor into action, too.   He also had a big project to take care of the next day but he was just as determined that it would be the last.   Leaving Emily sipping her first coffee of the day and checking emails, he headed for the bus stop.   His fiancee might have been surprised by this as she thought he lived within walking distance of work.   When the bus arrived he headed for the back, which was empty after the school-time rush.

He sat and slipped off his combat jacket, pulling a crisp white shirt and suit jacket out of his holdall.   By the time he was dressed, Emily would hardly have recognised him with his jacket and jeans, dark glasses, slicked back hair and gold jewellery.  She would also have been very surprised by where he got off the bus.

His contact was sitting on the park bench as arranged, dressed in chinos and cable-knit cardigan.   There was a plastic bag lying on the bench next to him.   Victor picked it up and slipped it into his holdall.

"This is my last job," he muttered, looking in a completely different direction.

"Fine," was all the reply he needed or waited for.

He walked out of the park and climbed into the gleaming silver BMW parked a few streets away.   A change in job would also mean he no longer needed to drive this ugly thing, he reflected with satisfaction.   He drove towards the out of town shopping mall where he had his next, and final, meeting.   There was a mother and baby shop there, he remembered; he could pick something up for Emily and the baby once the job was complete.

After parking, he walked casually through the other shoppers looking out for his contact.   Suddenly, someone bumped into him.   As he was about to apologise when he felt a thump against his stomach like a sharp punch and then the pain exploded through his guts and he realised he had been shot.   He gripped the arm of his attacker, staring into eyes wide as with shock as his.   His last conscious thought was that he must be hallucinating but he called her name, anyway.


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