Authors: Joseph Collins
Tags: #sniper, #computer hacking, #assassin female assassin murder espionage killer thriller mystery hired killer paid assassin psychological thriller
He took the cuffs off.
“What was in the package that the bomb guys are so
interested in?”
“A bomb.” He paused and listened to something that
came over his earpiece radio. “A big one. Enough to take out a
tank. Leo pissed someone off.”
She smiled. Leo could do that without too much
trouble.
“How about we move out of the way of the bomb
techs?”
He led her out past where fire trucks, police cars
and more trucks full of tactically dressed FBI agents were all
waiting. A helicopter hovered overhead, its rotor blades making
chopping sounds.
Looking back, she saw a woman being taken out of her
hotel room in handcuffs, already dressed in an orange jumpsuit by
several men wearing Class A protective suits complete with
respirators. Others followed, carrying brown paper bags sealed with
red evidence tags.
“What’s that all about?”
Silver shrugged. “Another mess that Leo left for
us—she was one of the people spreading chaos throughout the
city.”
He turned to her and said, “What can you tell us
about what has been going on around here recently?”
She leaned back against a squad car. The exhaust
fumes from all the idling vehicles were almost enough to make her
gag. “It’s a long story. How about we sit down someplace and talk
about it?”
Leo didn’t want to get involved with the mess in
front of the hotel. Nor did he want to go over and introduce
himself to the FBI. He’d been released once before by some unknown
benefactor but wouldn’t count on that happening again.
The way he saw it, he hadn’t committed any crime
worth mentioning and had only tried his best to help. Hell, he’d
handed them three of the five assassins running around Denver. The
other two were probably out of the country by now.
His truck was in the middle of a big crime scene,
and it was probably best that he simply disappeared for a bit. But
where to go?
Finally, it came to him. He flagged down a taxi and
had the driver take him to within two blocks of Jackie’s home
address. Being blessed with an almost eidetic memory helped him
remember where she lived from the targeting package he had read
what seemed like a lifetime ago.
After the taxi drove around the block, Leo trudged
to the apartment building. Jackie lived on the fifth floor. The
elevator didn’t work and the stairwell stank of old urine and fresh
despair. His shoes crunched on discarded crack vials. What a
fucking dump.
The locks on Jackie’s door were top of the line and
he knew that there wasn’t any way he could, with his limited skills
and tools, get past them.
He set his stuff down in front of her door and moved
down the hallway a bit to the apartment next to hers.
Leo tapped on the door and it was answered by short
Hispanic woman.
“Hi,” he said. “I’m Jackie’s brother, here in town
for a bit. She was supposed to meet me here, and I’m a bit early. I
don’t suppose you have a key so I could just let myself in?”
The woman eyed him suspiciously past the chain still
fastened on the door. “How do I know you are who you say you
are?”
“I don’t know if you heard that her boyfriend died
recently. I was out of the country on business, but when I heard, I
came out to help her.”
“What was her boyfriend’s name?”
“Nathan White. He died too young.” And hopefully
he’s cooking someplace right now.
“Okay. Give me a minute.”
The door shut, and then there was the sound of the
chain being taken off. Twenty seconds later, the door popped open
and the woman stepped out holding a set of keys in her hand.
She fumbled around a bit, but got the door open.
Leo picked up his duffel bag and rifle case. “Thank
you so very much.”
The woman nodded and watched him drag all of his
stuff into the apartment. He shut the door and took a look
around.
There were almost no personal touches to the place,
no pictures, paintings or anything like that. The furniture was
well worn, but the place was neat. In fact, it looked a great deal
like Leo’s own apartment.
In a back bedroom was a computer with a huge screen.
Other unidentifiable electronic and computer gear was stacked on
metal shelves.
Jackie’s bedroom was also minimalist containing only
a bed and a stack of computer books.
Leo settled down on her couch and took out his rifle
and cleaning supplies.
He might as well clean his rifle while he waited for
Jackie to show up—if she hadn’t been arrested by the FBI.
###
Tyrannicide was monitoring the news feeds and knew
something was wrong. Three members of the Black Hand had been
arrested. It began a pre-programmed subroutine, deleting many of
its external links, just keeping enough open to continue to watch
for certain events that would bring it back on line. Then it
settled down to wait.
###
Jackie spent what seemed like days at the FBI office
in Denver, going over her story, what she knew and what she thought
had happened. Over and over again, from various angles, she was
interrogated to the point where she had a blinding headache.
She did learn a few things, though. And it just
brought on more questions that she didn’t have answers for.
Finally, she pleaded to be able to go home and
promised to come back in the morning for further ‘interviews.’
She wasn’t very surprised to find Leo sitting on her
couch when she got home.
He had apparently been dozing. His rifle case now
sported stickers from various rock bands and guitar and amp
manufacturers.
Standing, he came over to where she was waiting in
the doorway.
“You taking up playing the guitar?”
“No. It’s a great disguise for a rifle case though.
How are you doing?”
She closed the door. “It’s been a shitty week.” Leo
took her hand and led her to the couch.
“So, where have you been, with the FBI?”
“Yeah. They want to talk to you in a bad way. But
they’re scared of you for some reason.”
Leo smiled.
“Did you miss while shooting at that sniper or
deliberately aim at his scope?”
“I couldn’t bring myself to kill him, nor destroy
his rifle, so I did the next best thing. There’s been enough
killing in this town and I didn’t need to add to the body count.
Did you find anything out?”
She settled back and said, “Well, Nathan’s real name
was Niksa Ciganovic. He was Serbian and emigrated when he was five
years old.”
Leo looked thoughtful for a moment. “The last name
sounds familiar. Yes. Milan Ciganovic was one of the founders of
the original Black Hand. He died in 1929, in Serbia, after spending
World War I living in this country. So Nathan is the end of a long
line of people who ran an assassination ring.”
She nodded. “Apparently so. The FBI is hot after it,
and the associated publicity. I just want to get on with my life
and forget all of this.”
“What about the software?”
“It’s gone. I was able to trace it back from where I
loaded it onto the Internet, but from there it’s disappeared. The
FBI is following up, but I don’t think they’ll have much more
luck.”
“What about us?”
“I don’t know. I don’t even know your real name; I
just have more questions than answers.”
He took her hands into his. “How about this to
start—the name I was born with was Max Jennings. I suspect that my
father was a professional killer; no matter, he was an alcoholic
bastard. I was recruited to be an assassin after I was thrown out
of college when I was a suspect in my father’s murder. I killed
eleven people, all of them at a range of over six hundred yards.
And one with a letter opener when he tried to recruit me to kill
you. I’m not proud of what I did, but I’m no longer that person.
Can we work beyond my past, perhaps to a future for both of
us?”
“I don’t know. Really, I don’t. So much has happened
in the past week ... I’m going to need some time to figure it all
out.”
Leo found a piece of paper and a pen and wrote some
addresses and a phone number.
Handing them to her, he said, “If you change your
mind, you can reach me here—I’ve also included my apartment
address, though I don’t have a phone there. Probably, it’s best to
try and reach me through the coin store. If you need anything I’ll
come running. Anything at all. Even if you just want to talk.”
She took the paper, not knowing what to do or say.
He looked into her eyes, gently kissed her on the lips, gathered up
his things and quietly left, tearing another gaping hole into her
heart.
###
Leo was examining a 1909 S VDB
Lincoln penny that was very close to having a Very Fine grading,
but might be Extremely Fine. The problem was that, for
each
type of coin, there are different things to look for in determining
if a coin meets a certain grade. The difference in what Leo would
pay was three hundred to six hundred dollars. Naturally, he wanted
to buy it as cheap as possible, but had some leeway as he did have
a customer looking for one in about this grade to complete his
Lincoln penny collection. That there were only 484,000 of them
minted made it one of the most valuable Lincoln pennies anyone
could own.
The door to the shop opened and Jackie stepped in.
It had been three months since he had seen her and had been
constantly thinking about her. He had been torn between trying to
get in touch with her and wanting to let her have the time and
space to deal with her problems. But he carried the picture that
had been taken for her targeting package in his wallet and thought
about her often.
She had let her hair grow out and it only added to
her beauty. It helped that she was wearing a summer dress that
showed off her shapely figure.
Stunned, Leo set the coin down on the counter and
walked over to her. Taking her hands into his, he said, “Jackie,
what are you doing here?”
“I heard there was a coin store that needed some
computer expertise. So I thought I’d stop by and offer my
services.”
“Anything else?”
She looked into his eyes. “I think we have some
unfinished business to take care of ...” The she reached up and
kissed him.
--The End--
If you enjoyed this check out the next book in the
Kill Code series
And for more news and information on upcoming books
be sure to check out my web site at
http://www.josephfranciscollins.com
A former competitive rifle and handgun
shooter and International security specialist, Joseph Francis
Collins brings these field experiences and much more to his
writing. Currently, Mr. Collins works as a paramedic/firefighter
and a computer security specialist, and is working on his next
novel. He lives in Iowa with his wife and a small menagerie that
includes various rescued critters.