PART 4 - THE MEETING
Thursday AM... The following day.
There were a lot of things she didn't like today. She didn't like the news that she was
on somebody's death list and she didn’t like the meeting
place where she had agreed to meet her organiser. A quiet country lane
might give privacy but it didn’t feel right. She parked her car a full 30 minutes
before her contact arrived to survey the area. She had to admit she didn’t find
anything untoward but she still didn’t like the set up. At the precise time arranged
a car drew up and her contact got out of his car. Before he had had the chance to light
the cigarette he produced from its packet he froze. She had appeared from nowhere and the
pistol she held in a two handed grip was aimed directly at him.
‘There is no need for that’ he stammered.
‘We’ll see about that. I think you had better tell me what’s going on
and why we are meeting in the middle of nowhere’ she said.
‘That man you killed in Paris last month. His associates aren’t too happy.
Somehow they learned that you were involved and they’ve put a contract out on you. I
don’t know who the hitter is or when they are going to do it. I do know that its
somebody you know. I don’t want anybody to realize I am involved with you hence this
rather out of the way location’.
She stood there facing him, her
aim rock steady. After a few moments contemplation she lowered the gun.
‘OK, let’s talk. But first, a friendly reminder. You know exactly what will
happen if you ever cross me. I have hit easier targets than you’.
‘I know’ he said.
Thursday PM... The same day.
She lay on the hotel bed thinking to herself. She hadn’t liked that remark that
the hitter was somebody known to her. She knew that she would have to be particularly
careful until the person showed himself. The phone rang.
‘Hi, its me. I heard you were back in town. I can’t wait to see you
again’ the mans voice said.
She knew right away it was Michael. A broad smile widened across her face. With all of
her time abroad, and given her line of work, it was difficult for her to build up a steady
relationship. Michael was the closest thing she had to a steady boyfriend He had of course
no idea what her sideline to modeling was and she had to use her imagination to account
for her time away. They spoke for over an hour and she felt distinctly sad when he finally
hung up.
There was a
sharp tap on the bedroom door. She immediately reached for a weapon which was never far
from her grasp. With all the expertise she had learned from her chosen trade she quickly
ensured that the safety catch was off and ready to be fired. She hid the gun behind her
back and moved towards the door.
'Yes?' she said.
'Flowers ma'am' came the reply from behind the door.
'That's original' she thought to herself. With the grace of a leapordess
she swung open the door and dragged the man, little more than a boy really, inside. A huge
collection of red carnations sprayed across the room as the boy was thrown roughly to the
bed. The gun came from behind her back and ,in a fraction of a second, was pointed most
assuredly at the forehead of the figure lying across the bed.
'Who are you' she demanded.
'Flower man' the boy replied
timidly.
She looked at the trembling, prostate figure in front of
her. He doesn't look like a contract killer she thought to herself. She reached inside his
jacket and found nothing but a batch of business cards from a floral delivery service. She
looked across the room and in the midst of the carnations spread across the room she saw
the card which arrived with the flowers. She went across to the card and picked it up, her
aim never wavering from the boy's forehead.
'Surprise, surprise' the card read. Flowers for a lovely
lady. 'I really can't wait to see you again. Michael XXX'.
She smiled to herself and went over to the
boy. 'Look I'm sorry. I get a lot of weird people who follow me around in my business and
I use this to scare them away. It is only a toy' she lied. 'Tell you what. If you don't
mention this there's a big tip in this for you. Deal?'.
A few minutes later the boy left with
enough cash to buy his silence and to keep him in expensive entertainment for the rest of
the month.
After a moments reflection she returned back to the question of who she knew could be a
contract killer. She began to list all of her appointments over the next week. After that
she would be out of the country, modeling. She felt sure that whoever her adversary was
would need to do the job here in London. She looked at her diary: there was the bi-annual
party held by the modeling agency, the visit to her Uncle Steven (her last living
relative), another meeting with her contact but apart from that her time was her own. As
an afterthought she added her date with Michael to the list.
Friday AM.. The following day.
‘Yes uncle, you know I love seeing you. I will pop down this weekend as
arranged... Yes of course I still shoot clay pigeons and I reckon I’ll still beat you
when we go to the range......OK must dash, see you tomorrow’. She replaced the phone
on the receiver and looked forward to her weekend in the country but first would come the
agency’s party.
TO BE CONTINUED
place where she had agreed to meet her organiser. A quiet country lane
might give privacy but it didn’t feel right. She parked her car a full 30 minutes
before her contact arrived to survey the area. She had to admit she didn’t find
anything untoward but she still didn’t like the set up. At the precise time arranged
a car drew up and her contact got out of his car. Before he had had the chance to light
the cigarette he produced from its packet he froze. She had appeared from nowhere and the
pistol she held in a two handed grip was aimed directly at him.
