Atalanta Armed.

Kauai, Hawaii

Maria tightened the straps of her backpack as she ascended the steep and muddy trail. She planned to go only as far as the first valley, about three miles in, before turning around. It was a beautiful, sunny day – it had rained a little overnight, but the sky was clear now and it afforded her a spectacular view of the dramatic cliffs of the Na Pali coastline.

It was the third day of her trip to Hawaii, and it had been two months since her last job. She’d spent the time traveling far and wide, but planned to have a few weeks of relaxation in the 50^th state. Long holidays were one benefit of her occupation, and she took advantage of the breaks.

She passed a mile marker and rounded a bend in the trail. From there she could see far below the aqua waters of a coral lagoon. This place is gorgeous. I could stay here all day.

She decided to take a rest for lunch, and sat down on a nearby rock. She peeled a banana and watched hikers pass by as she ate. They have no idea who I am, she thought. They see me in my t-shirt, shorts, and hiking boots and think I’m just one of them. They pass me and say hello, these friendly tourists, not knowing that I could kill them faster than lightning. She looked wistfully over the jagged cliffs plunging into the ocean below.

Maria’s reverie was broken by the sight of someone coming up the trail. His white hair and goatee, his face – from a distance, she couldn’t be sure, but it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. It can’t be him. How could he find me here? She unzipped her backpack, reached in, and gripped her 9mm. As he got closer, she knew who it was with certainty.

He addressed her. "That’s not an easy first mile!" He panted as he came to sit down next to her. "I’m too old for this".

"Hello, Patrick," she said icily.

"And a good morning to you, Maria!" he said cheerfully. "You can put that thing away; if I’d wanted to kill you, I had some clear shots across the switchbacks back there".

"I’ll keep my fingers on it, thank you".

"As you wish". He wiped the sweat off his forehead with a handkerchief. "You know, I thought I was in pretty good shape for a 45-year-old man, but I guess I’m not. You were just trucking up the hill! Of course, you’re a lot younger than me. How old are you now?"

"You know how old I am".

"You’re about 32, aren’t you? That’s a good age".

"A good age for what? To die?".

He laughed out loud. "Oh, Maria! I’m telling you, I’m not here to kill you".

"Then why exactly are you here, and why are you following me, and how the hell did you find me?"

"I’ll get to that in a minute," he answered. "Hi!" He waved cordially to another group of hikers passing by.

She interrogated her visitor. "Are you still getting airline flight manifests from your pals in Washington?"

"Well, I can’t reveal my sources, but a guy builds a network of friends after that much time in DC. It was easy to find you here, and everybody goes to the Na Pali coast right away, so I just . . ".

"You just followed me up here. Why? Tell me why, or I swear I’ll blow you off this cliff". She began to pull the gun out of her backpack.

"Hold it! Calm down, Maria! It’s not me that you should worry about". He held her wrist and pushed her hand away from the gun. "Those same friends in DC had some news that you might be interested in".

"Go on".

"Well, you remember that Serb paramilitary goon you terminated two years ago?"

"Alex Markovic? Of course. So?"

"It turns out that some of his gangland friends weren’t happy about it, and they want you dead".

She huffed. "That’s the news? You came all the way here just to tell me that?"

"And to do some diving off Niihau. It’s really great out there".

"There are many people who want me dead, Patrick. I live with this every day. What’s so special about Markovic?"

"His associates have the resources and the grudge quotient to carry it out. Maria, this isn’t one of your typical New Jersey Mafia types who can’t find their way out of a paper bag. He has connections to old KGB intelligence sources. I’m telling you, and I should know these things, that these guys are mean. You stepped into some serious political and criminal shit with that job".

Maria kicked a rock and sent it tumbling down the side of the cliff into the dense tropical forest. "Why are you telling me this, Patrick? What do you care? For all I know, one of those New Jersey guys is going to hire you next to hit me".

The man looked down at his hands. Almost in a whisper he said, "Maria, you know I don’t do that. I’d never take that kind of job".

She shook her head. "For the right price, you would. You’d fry me and feed me to the sharks down there if you got paid to do it".

"No, never".

"Damn you! Everybody knows that you’re one of the few who could pull it off".

"Maria, please . . ".

"It’s true! Every time they’ve tried to send someone to finish me, I’ve snuffed them. You . . . I’m vulnerable around you, and they all know it". She put her head in her hands. "You’re going to kill me someday, Patrick. I just know it".

"Fine, if that’s what you think!" He was upset; his finger trembled as he pointed it at her. "You keep living in fear of me. But I’m here as a friend to tell you that if you return to Los Angeles, Markovic’s men are going to be waiting for you in droves. That’s your most immediate threat. I don’t care what you do, but you’d better change your flight and you’d better find another safe house when you get back, because it’s real and it WILL go down. You’ve been warned, Maria".

With that he stood up and began to go back down the trail. She watched him descend the slope, blood-red with iron-rich soil.

Corona del Mar, California

Several weeks had passed since Maria’s return from her vacation, and there had been no sign of anyone on her trail. She was beginning to wonder if Patrick had lied to her for some reason about Markovic. Just to be safe, she moved to a new apartment and kept an especially low profile.

She walked into the garden of the house owned by her client, Teresa Wu. There was a spectacular view of the Pacific Ocean from the patio where Ms. Wu sat talking on a cell phone. She motioned to her guest to have a seat, then finished her conversation.

"Can I get you anything to drink, Maria?" Teresa asked the hit woman.

"No, I’m fine, thank you".

Teresa took a sip from a glass of lemonade. "Do you like this place? You haven’t been to this one before, have you?"

Maria shook her head. "You’re always on the move, like me. But it seems nice for now".

"It is, for now. Listen, Maria, I know you’re a professional and I know you don’t need me to lecture you about the Nicholas Locatelli job . . ".

"I made some tactical errors. I’m sorry about the mess; I didn’t realize he’d have so many foot soldiers there protecting the place that day".

Teresa interrupted her, "You don’t need to explain; I don’t know how you do what you do, so I can’t possibly critique your work". She looked at Maria reproachfully. "All I know is that you made a lot of noise in the process of completing the assignment. It’s not like you".

"I know". Maria looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

"You’ll get the balance of your fee; don’t worry. I don’t want to get on your bad side," she smiled. "William will handle the details for you". She pointed to her lieutenant who was sitting across the table.

"Then what business do we have to discuss today?"

"Another job".

After the last job from Teresa, she was skeptical and weary. She also had a lingering fear that Patrick’s warning was real, and that she should devote her energy to protecting herself. "Very well, Teresa. What is it?"

"Just a quick, easy one; consider it as a way to appease me, the evil goddess of fire, or whatever the fuck I am. William will give you more information. And thank you for your help. I have the greatest confidence in you".

She stood up and walked out with her driver and bodyguards.

Maria rose and sat next to Teresa’s right hand man, William Tang.

"Why does she have to play that phony shit with me, William? ‘I have the greatest confidence in you.’ What kind of sarcastic, ass-licking talk is that?"

"Calm down, Maria," William chided her. "How do you know I don’t tell her what you say about her behind her back?"

"Because you know I’d put a bullet in your head if you did?"

William laughed out loud. "Oh, you are one mean lady, you know that?"

"Thanks, Will. I like your candor. Now fuck off".

William shuffled a newspaper around and leaned forward. "So tell me about the Locatelli job. Sounds like it was a real war zone. Back in September the news was all over that juicy story: twenty-one crimelord types killed in one swoop. Police still looking for the killers. More than one killer, of course. But not looking too hard – you do their job for them".

"I try".

"Have you ever murdered so many at once?"

"Of course not. What, do you like to live vicariously through me?"

"Hey, I don’t have the balls that you do, so what else am I to do?" He leaned in closer, an excited twinkle in his eye. "So how did you do it? Did you dress up in those sexy assassin clothes?"

"I did, and I nearly paid for it by wearing some damn boots with high heels. I had to do a lot of running, and it wasn’t easy. Next time I’m just going to wear my running shoes".

"So how did you get in?"

"The usual way. I got them thinking below the belt and caught them with their pants down. A few bullets later and they were all history".

William was enthralled. "So what happened next? The press wasn’t allowed to know all the details".

Maria wasn’t used to being so rigorously debriefed. "There’s not much to say, William. There were more guards than I expected, so I had to pull out all the stops. Like with the guys I blew away in the elevator".

"In the elevator?"

"Yeah, they sent some guards up to catch me. The idiots all got on the same elevator, and surprise! I was waiting for them. As soon as the doors opened, I messed them up really bad. Used my H&K".

"A machine gun? Maria, you didn’t! Nasty!"

"Hey, I don’t have time to be playing Chutes & Ladders with these people. Sometimes brute force wins out over style. I’m getting jaded. I like to have more firepower. A good sniper’s rifle is fine for one-offs, but this was a major operation. Besides, I kind of like the way the automatic looks and feels. . ". She pretended to fire a machine gun in her hands, making the tchk-tchk-tchk sound of the weapon.

"I always knew you got a kick out of your job, but now I think you’re really crazy".

"I can’t help it if it turns me on".

William raised an eyebrow. "You mean that in a sexual way?"

Maria moved closer to him so that her lips were just a few inches away from his face. She spoke in a low, silky tone. "Let me tell you: when I have my 9mm pressed against some guy, and he’s willing to do anything, ANYTHING, I want him to do . . . when I make him beg and plead for mercy, make him tell me I’m beautiful, make him lick my boots . . . when I feel the cold, hard steel of the gun in my hands . . . when I stand over them as I watch them twitch and jerk as they die . . . that’s power. And power is quite an aphrodisiac. So to answer your question, my naïve friend, I do mean it in a sexual way". She kissed William, then pushed him away.

William was out of breath. "Well, Maria. I almost want to be one of your victims after that description".

"Be careful what you wish for".

"So how was your vacation?" William asked her.

"Not long enough. But it was fine, up until the end in Hawaii".

"What was wrong with Hawaii?"

"Nothing. It’s just . . . I ran into someone I know".

A devilish smile crossed William’s face. "Who’s this? A lover, perhaps?"

"Shut up, William. I don’t want to talk about it".

"Okay, if you insist. Let’s go inside and talk".

They went inside the house. Maria lay down on a sofa in the living room, her legs hanging over the side, her high-heeled sandals dangling from her toes. "Does the Ice Queen have any liquor in this place?"

"Let’s conduct some business first".

"Fine. Leave the hired killer thirsty, that’s a smart idea".

William handed her a folder.

"Your next assignment is a man named Yi-Chien Fong. He’s a Silicon Valley venture capitalist. He’s married to one of Teresa’s friends, and the woman wants him dead. Obviously, she has the coin to do it".

"He’s a what?" Maria snapped at him. "She thinks she can get me to do work for her poker partners? What the hell kind of job is this?"

"It’s easy money, it will restore her confidence in you, and you have little choice, so I suggest you be quiet and listen!" William yelled back.

"Restore her confidence in me? How many jobs have I done successfully for her? I’ve put away dozens of men for her without so much as a blip on the radar screen. One hit raises suspicions and now I’m the fucking garbage man!"

"Just listen, Maria".

"How much?"

"Listen to me".

"How much, dammit?"

"Two hundred-fifty thousand".

Maria looked hard at him. "What?"

"You heard me. Look, this woman can afford that ten times over. She’s very upset about her husband’s philandering, and she has some financial advantage to his death as well. So are you game?"

"For that much, I’ll have bits of him bottled and stocked on supermarket shelves".

"Good".

William briefed Maria and showed her to the door.

"Good luck," he said. "Until we meet again".

"Bye".

On the way out she stopped and turned around. "By the way, William; you wouldn’t happen to know about any Serb activities going on in L.A. these days, would you?"

He looked surprised. "Serb? No, not really. There are always a few of them hanging around, but they’re usually just terrorizing the locals. Why do you ask?"

She waved her hand. "Oh, it’s probably nothing. Someone told me there might be a Serb cell in Los Angeles looking for revenge for a hit I made a couple of years ago".

"Who told you that? Was this the same person you ran into in Hawaii?"

"Never mind, William".

He shrugged his shoulders. "Maria, I wouldn’t worry if I were you. Are you familiar with the Greek myth of Atalanta?"

"No, professor. Please tell".

William leaned against the doorway of the house and began to tell the story. "She was a young, beautiful woman who was also the fastest of all mortals. No man could beat her in a foot race. She was tired of being hit upon by sleazy suitors, so she issued a challenge: any man that could defeat her in a race she would agree to marry; all who lost would be put to death. Needless to say, scores of men went to their deaths trying to win the hand of Atalanta. One day, a humble man – I can’t recall his name – prayed to the gods and Aphrodite especially that he would defeat Atalanta and marry her. Aphrodite came to his aid and gave him three, magical golden apples.

"When he raced Atalanta, he threw an apple ahead of her. It mesmerized her and made her stop, look, and pick it up. The man gained ground on her, but she was still too fast for him. So he threw his second apple. Atalanta stopped to pick this one up, too, and the man drew closer. As she neared the finish line, he threw his last magical apple. Atalanta, apparently not immune to magic or bright fruit, was forced to stop and pick up the third apple. At this point, the man passed her and won the race. They were married . . ".

Maria interrupted. "And lived happily ever after? I don’t think so. I think a few days into the honeymoon, Atalanta armed herself with a Glock and wasted that loser".

"Maybe so," William nodded. "But I often think of you in association with that story. No man is ever going to catch you, Maria, unless he has a magical, golden apple of his own".

She smiled. "Thanks, Will. I’ll stay away from the fresh produce section of the market".

Los Angeles, California

Maria ran through the cool, morning mist along the wide, tree-lined boulevard that passed near her home. She liked to go for a morning run almost every day as a way to clear her thoughts and give her energy for the day ahead. The ocean fog still lingered over the city, casting a gray blanket over everything.

As she turned up her street she began to walk the three remaining blocks to her apartment. At the intersection of the last cross street, she could see her building ahead. She stepped into the intersection. The moment she did, she heard the loud crack of a high-caliber rifle being fired. Immediately she could feel an intense, burning pain where the bullet grazed her shoulder just below her neck. She dropped to her knees and instinctively grabbed the spot with her hand. The warm blood soaked her fingers.

Is this it? she wondered. Am I going to die here, in this intersection, right here and now? The fuck I am!

The sniper fired again, but missed. She stood up and ran as fast as she could toward her apartment.

Her mind raced. It can’t be Patrick. He never would’ve missed. Maybe it’s the Serbs after all. She ran up the steps leading to the courtyard garden. Don’t go in the apartment, Maria! She stopped to hide behind a tree. From there she could see the windows and balcony of her home. Through the leaves she could make out two men standing on her balcony, craning their necks, looking out onto the street to see if the sniper had made their job unnecessary. Those assholes are in my home! How dare they!

She knew that if she waited too long, the sniper would have her in his sights again from behind. She couldn’t move forward into the courtyard because the two men would see her. She searched for a solution. . .

Seeing a large window next to her, she used her elbow to shatter the glass. She stepped into the apartment through the blinds. She ran into the bedroom, where a young woman was cowering in the sheets of her bed. The woman screamed in terror at the early-morning intruder.

Maria held up a bleeding hand and motioned for her to be quiet. "Shut up! Someone’s outside trying to kill me! If you scream, they’ll know I’m in here". The woman bit her lip. Maria pulled the little .22 out of the pocket of her running jacket and went to the bedroom window. The apartment dweller looked on in horror.

"Please . . . don’t hurt me".

"I’m not going to hurt you if you just shut up!" From the bedroom window she could see the sniper running across the street to join his colleagues.

This is my only chance to get out of here, she thought. Maria grabbed a flower vase and smashed the bedroom window. She turned and called to the woman, "If you want to live, follow me outside. Otherwise, they’ll come in here and they’ll kill you".

The woman sobbed. "No, please . . . this can’t be happening".

Suddenly, there was a loud knock on the door. "Police! Let us in!"

Maria turned to the woman. "When was the last time LAPD responded to a call in ten seconds? And did you hear that accent? Come on!" She pulled the woman out of the bed and helped her through the broken window. Maria followed her, and the two of them ran down the slope of the garden and onto the sidewalk.

Maria kept the woman next to her as the two ran down the sidewalk. "Don’t worry; I’m not going to shoot you," she told the woman. "This gun is for self-defense; those men broke into my apartment and shot me". She showed the woman the blood on her hand.

She knew the three men would be in hot pursuit. As they made their way, a black Jeep Cherokee turned the corner up her street. It was driving quickly and somewhat erratically. Maria immediately shoved the woman into some bushes in a nearby yard, jumped into them herself, and said, "Now you’re going to do what I tell you, okay?" The woman just nodded her head in between sobs.

The Jeep pulled over to the left side of the street, facing the wrong way. It inched forward slowly as if it were looking for someone, waiting to pick up someone. As it passed by their location, Maria told the woman to get up.

"I want you to walk up to the driver of that Jeep and get him to stop. Make it look like you’re scared, like someone broke into your apartment. Make him roll down the window and tell him he needs to call the police, got it? Don’t let him know I’m here, okay?"

The woman cried and nodded.

Maria pushed her. "Go!"

The woman ran up to the Jeep, sobbing and smeared with Maria’s blood. She motioned for the driver to roll down his window, but the man waved her away. Maria leapt out from the bushes and crept behind the truck as the woman distracted the driver. She grasped her little .22 as tightly as she could, but the pain of her gunshot wound was making her dizzy.

She went around to the passenger side, where she could hear the man yelling in a Slavic language, clearly agitated at the woman. Finally, he rolled down his window.

Well, she’s done her job, Maria thought.

Maria aimed her .22 through the passenger side window. The woman on the other side saw her and covered her mouth in horror. The driver, seeing where her gaze was directed, turned and looked to his right. Maria fired one shot after another through the window. The bullets hit the man all over his upper body. Because it was a small caliber gun, the shots didn’t kill him immediately. He tried to hit the accelerator, but the Jeep just lurched and jerked forward.

Maria ran around to the driver’s side, reached through the open window, and unlocked the door. She pulled the door open and grabbed the driver, pulling him out of the vehicle and onto the street. As he lay there, she took the .22 and fired another shot at point blank range into his skull, finishing him off.

The apartment woman sat on the ground, stunned by what she just witnessed.

Maria jumped into the driver’s seat and threw the Jeep into reverse. Like everyone else in the sleepy neighborhood, the Serbs heard the gunshots. They ran outside to see what was happening with their intended victim.

There goes the neighborhood, thought Maria as she watched the residents peek through windows, trying to ascertain what was happening on their street.

The three would-be assassins waved to the Jeep to pick them up. As they waved to the Jeep, they saw their driver lying in a pool of blood on the street. Confused, they looked up again at the Jeep.

See you later, boys! Maria turned the Jeep around and sped away.

By now, the sirens were clamoring in the distance. I guess I can’t live in Los Angeles anymore. That’s one more city I’m banished from. She jumped back into the Jeep, but she knew she’d have to find another car somewhere if she wanted to escape. She felt her wound again; it was still bleeding, but not as much as before. Medical attention wouldn’t be a problem; Teresa Wu had doctors on call to help with these things.

As she drove away, Maria remembered what Patrick had told her about Markovic’s people: "They’ll be waiting for you in droves". She could feel the ghosts of the dead haunting her, always just over