The assassin – Part 1

You don’t get much in the way of writing from me do you? Well here is something to distract you from this election palaver. Part 2 coming soon.

–

The footsteps where barely audible and it was if the assassin was not breathing, every inch of the lithe frame was controlled. It did not matter that the target was still a good ten feet away, when the assassin struck it would be quick and painful. Moving over that sort of distance was no problem, the assassin could creep out of the hiding space and dart across that lawn before any of the guests had noticed. This was a thrill, so many people, not noticing that an assassination was about to be carried out in their midst’s.

The employer had been quite specific how he’d wanted this to go down. This politician was celebrating a marginal win over the other parties. He’d had his time and it was time to move on. The employer wanted the public to see that not everyone was content with the way things had played out. It was a complicated move to make for the assassin and experience was vital here. Although the assassin hadn’t taken on anything similar there was no doubt what had to be done. More money had been transferred to that offshore bank account, more than usual. This employer was generous and had considered the extra skill it would take to pull this off.

Once deep breath as the target turned to put his drink on the table. He was chatting animatedly with his guest until the very last minute when a figure slid from the shadows, and drove a blade upwards through his stomach and into his heart. He wouldn’t die immediately; he’d have a few seconds to look into the green eyes of his killer. Before he even hit the ground the assassin was gone, up over the wall of the garden and away.

Then the screams started, people panicked and terrified. They didn’t even realise what had happened until blood started to soak through the white material of the politician’s shirt. He wouldn’t survive to see the ambulance, the assassin had made sure of that but he had a few moments to point in the direction the assassin had fled before life drained from his body.

Someone took his pulse, there was nothing but people still tried to ask questions. Did he see the assassin, who was it? What did they use, they must be covered in blood, did anyone see someone suspicious at the party? The cacophony soon died down as the ambulance arrived and rushed the man to hospital. He was already long gone by the time they arrived. There was no way he could’ve survived such a professional attack.

The story hit the news not long after, he’d been Prime Minister for a single day. Now he was dead, he’d done something to piss someone off and had paid for it. The manhunt began for the murderer. There were whispers that this had been a professional killing but it didn’t reach the public. The police knew they were on the hunt for an assassin but it was played down. They didn’t want the whole of Britain knowing that something could be done so swiftly and easily. It was an unspoken rule, don’t talk about the murderers for hire and there shouldn’t be too many problems.

If Britain knew where to get hold of mercenaries then nothing would be sacred. Assassins were only known to those in high up, wealthy positions. Or those who skulked around in the gutter commanding large armies of drug dealers. They essentially were the same, dealt in the same circles, controlled the country in the same way. They felt like they needed to take people out to retain their wealth and glory. There was no need in dirtying your hands when you could hire someone for a measly £10k to do the work for you.

The chaos went on for a few days while parliament talked about the new issues arising from this killing. They needed a new leader. The parties argued for a while before settling, a man from the same party as the deceased, the logical choice for succession. There was a vote but no one really paid attention, the country was ready to put this behind them and get on. A new era.

Assassinations weren’t commonplace in the UK, if they did happen then they were not high profile or even mentioned. Politicians were now afraid to go out in case this was some sort of political serial killer. People sat at home wondering when the next blow to the country would come. The FTSE dropped and the pound lost its value. The country was falling into a state all because one politician had been killed.

–

The alarm went off to an empty bed. It hadn’t been slept in that night. Not long after it had started a lone figure walked through the room and switched it off at the wall. It was a good day. Tain Alzarius had been up managing a very successful club night. There’d be no time for sleep and she’d be away from the last few days. She wondered how many mornings her alarm had been going off without anyone to hear it. She’d been overseeing another club in Cardiff for the past few days. It wasn’t a big as her London club and the crowd was nowhere near as classy but it was fun and brought in money.

It was good to get away from London after all the worries of assassins and dead politicians. Tain was very surprised that the police hadn’t at least passed by her club to see what was going on. There were always dodgy types in there no matter how classy the area. It was just the sort of crowd that Tain, as a person, attracted. The truth was that she had been at that party on the night of the assassination. She’d arrived half way through, dressed in black with a long thin blade concealed within her sleeve. Afterwards she hadn’t even been followed. She’d been far enough away to turn and look surprised when screams came from somewhere in the distance.

It was her job to carry out things like that. She didn’t really know who this man was, she wasn’t eligible to vote and therefore hadn’t paid much attention to the election. It wouldn’t have changed her mind had she known who he was. It was enough to know that he was important enough to be killed. A lot of the time she would look into her targets to find out if they were worth taking out. She didn’t want to completely rid the world of good people. Unfortunately it was only the bad people that wanted anyone dead. She kept so low on the radar that the government rarely came to her to covertly take out some people they needed taking out. One day she’d be a bit less subtle and watch the requests come rolling in.

Politicians were always bad people. Tain cared so little that she hadn’t even bothered to research. She wished she had, not because she would’ve turned down the job but because she would’ve looked out for when the chaos began. Chaos was something Tain thrived on. More people were going out and getting drunk to drown their sorrows, good news for her club and more people were trying to rectify the situation by taking out members of the parties that could be responsible.

She didn’t know who her buyer had been but she did know if he – or she – had a vested stake in the outcome of all this. It wouldn’t be too hard to work out if she really thought about it. That probably made her a danger to them. If she were sensible then staying under the radar, possibly in Cardiff would be very wise for the next few months. Not Tain, she was in her public’s eye. She was at most club nights and people knew who she was. If she disappeared then people would get suspicious. No, she’d just have to watch her back for a while.

Two weeks had passed and although the economy was still in a state people had calmed down. Life was getting back to normal. The news continued to be about troops in Afghanistan, about the local dog that had arrived home after its owner had lost it while on holiday in the Cotswolds. The usual shit. The ranting and raving about politics had almost stopped. Parliament returned to normal and the Queen had decided not to exercise any reserve powers.

Tain had been turning down jobs; she’d received a large sum of money from her last one and had no need for more money. It would be best to keep a low profile.

It could be an idea to head down to the post office box to remove all requests for mercenary work. The letters there would contain a code word and a phone number. If Tain were going to call any of them then she would do so from a scrambled line. For today though she’d just be destroying them.

A drive through London in a sports car was always a fun experience, maybe it attracted too much attention but it was worth it. The weather certainly wasn’t nice enough to have the roof down on the Spyder, instead it was up, as were the windows, and the heating was on full blast.

Tain was quick to pull the letters from the box and lock it once again. She didn’t appear hurried or panicked just swift an unnoticeable. The letters were stashed in her glove box as she made the journey back across the city. Public transport wasn’t for her. The tube had its uses but she hated not to be in control of the vehicle she was traveling in. A car was better even if it was so slow moving at this time of the morning. The journey was uneventful albeit longer than Tain would’ve liked. She arrived back at her apartment just in time to find the real post arriving.

In the kitchen Tain chucked both piles of post on the counter. She then proceeded to make herself a very strong coffee. It did feel as if she hadn’t slept for two weeks. Coffee wouldn’t make a great deal of difference; it affected her in the opposite way to alcohol. She would get drunk very quickly; the only way she managed to not pass out after a few drinks was practice. She was a seasoned drinker, owning a few bars sort of meant she had to be. She was always having drinks bought for her and having meetings over bottles of whiskey.

The top letters were mainly bills and statements for the London club. Things she would have to get her team to deal with. Although she wasn’t shy of paper work she did trying pass as much of it on as she possibly could. She had very little time and it could be spent doing better things than paying bills.

Out of habit she opened each of the letters addressed to a fake name. All were uninteresting she shredded them there and then. The second to last of the pile yielded something slightly more interesting. Normally she would have to ignore anything that wasn’t communicated to her in the prearranged format of code word and telephone number. But the letter that caught her eye was too much.

Along with the code word and the number there was more writing. Although Tain couldn’t really reply it was always interesting to find out what these people wanted to say.

“This goes against standard protocol but you might like to know that the fee for this job would be £1M. Half to be paid before the job is carried out half to be paid after. It will be complicated but I think you might find it fun.”

The number followed after. Tain furrowed her brow. She’d taken on high paying jobs before and they tended to be horrifically complicated with all sorts of specific details that gave her very little room to manoeuvre.

But one million pounds sounded very tempting indeed. The 20k she got here and there was enough to sustain her alongside bigger jobs but this would keep her going for a while. She had expensive tastes and a bit of an obsession with cars and motorbikes. Maybe a private jet would be next.

She picked up her scrambled phone and dialed the number. She could at least hear them out. A fun job never sounded like a bad idea, nor did that amount of money.

“Hello,” the voice on the other end of the line, it was obscured to sound very low. Who ever this was they’d done it before.

“Hi,” said Tain cheerfully, “I got your letter.”

“I know,” said the low voice. “Are you in?”

“Only if you tell me more.” Tain wasn’t going to blindly wander into something like this.

“Yes but not over the phone. Agree, give me your bank details and I’ll post you the details and wire the first half to your account.”

“Agreed.” Tain rattled off her bank details. She knew she could handle pretty much anything anyone threw at her no matter how complicated it was.

“Wait for the post.” With that the voice hung up.

Tain put the phone down and looked down at the letter once again. What on earth was she getting herself into? A wave of excitement flooded over her and she grinned to herself. This was going to be a challenge and the not knowing made it even more exciting.

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