The Target

 

“If there is, in fact, a Heaven and a Hell, all we know for sure is that Hell will be a viciously overcrowded version of Phoenix.”

-Hunter S. Thompson

 

You’d be surprised how easy it is to kill someone.

-    Ding! – Lobby.

In an elevator no one talks.  Everyone looks straight ahead, staring at the faux oak paneling thinking about what the day has in store for them. 

In a hotel elevator families think about their vacation; rich people think about their Presidential Suites; business men on business trips stare at their wedding rings while they think about the $300 they spent last night on a good time with a not so good girl; or maybe they just miss their wives.

Ding! – First Floor.

I on the other hand think about my job.  An underrated and under appreciated job.

I kill people.

-    Ding! – Second Floor.

Call it what you will: assassin, hitman, hired gun, triggerman.  All those fit fine, but it still doesn’t get around the fact that I kill people for a living.  I call them targets.

They’re mostly business men who have crossed a line.  Stole money from a mob boss.  Betrayed a mob boss.  Killed someone close to a mob boss.  Cut off a mob boss in traffic, etc., etc.  Pretty much, if you’ve ever done anything to anger a mob boss, chances are you’ll get a visit from me.

You’d be surprised how easy it is to kill someone in a hotel. 

-    Ding! – Third Floor.

You walk out of the airport and hail a taxi.  You’re polite.  You’re always polite.  People remember a******s. 

You ask:  “Hey, how’s the weather been here?”

You ask:  “Hey, where are you from?”

You get out of the cab and give him a modest tip.  People remember guys that are too nice.

-    Ding! – Fourth Floor.

You walk to the front desk.  You’re polite. 

You ask: “Which room is Mr. Soandso staying in?”

They always give you the number.  No questions asked.  It’s like taking candy from a baby.  And if they don’t, you just show them that green headshot of Mr. Jackson (or Mr. Grant, depending on the hotel).  It’s like taking candy from a greedy baby.  Either way you’ll always get the number.

The last thing you want is to be noticed and remembered.  You always wear a suit to a hit, and sunglasses depending on the weather.  Look like any business man, after all you are there on business.

-    Ding! – Fifth Floor.

You knock on the door of the number, which the cute, college girl at the front desk gave you.  The door opens and there stands Mr. Soandso, the fat, balding business man you expected. 

What do you do now?

Bang, bang.  It’s over.  One in the head, one in the chest.  It’s all over. 

-    Ding! – Sixth Floor. 

You don’t touch anything.  You never touch anything.  People remember DNA. 

A three hour plane ride for five minutes of work.  A $10 cab ride and a $20 bribe (or a $50 bribe, depending on the hotel) to subtract from the human population. You pick up the “Do Not Disturb” sign on the desk, and leave it on the door handle as you leave. 

You’d be surprised how many corpses run up hotel bills.

-    Ding! – Seventh Floor.

Someone gets on the elevator.  You don’t panic.  You never panic.  In an elevator no one talks.  Except this guy.

“So, you here for business or pleasure?” he asks.

“Business,” I say.  You’re curt.

“Oh, really?  What kind of business are you in?” asks the man I name Chatty Kathy.

I think for a second:

“Security......Personal Security.”

“Are you a body guard, or something?” asks the man I name Nosey Nancy.

“No......Quite the opposite actually.” 

I don’t want to be a killer and a liar.

-    Ding! – Eighth Floor.

“My floor......Have a nice day.”  Hopefully I didn’t leave much of an impression on Gossiping Grace, back there.

I never know anything about my targets.

Never. 

Only a name.  That’s all I get.  That’s all I want.  This person was using a false name.  Janis Joplin died long before I met her. 

I glance, casually, up and down the hall to see if there are any security cameras.  Only one.  And it’s a fake.  A placebo isn’t just used for drugs, it works for security too.  Believe you’re safe and you are safe. Until something bad happens.

Silencers.  Possibly the greatest invention ever.  I love them.  Men have dogs; women have diamonds; I have silencers.  Ironically, as I screw the silencer into my gun it makes a noise.  I chuckle a little bit at this strange paradox. 

You never screw your silencer into your gun in the hallway.  But, I couldn’t have done it with Talkative Tammy in the elevator.

Janis’ room is in front of me.  There’s a “Do Not Disturb” sign on the door handle.  My job’s half done.

A three hour plane for 2 minutes and 30 seconds worth of work.  Then it’s another three hour plane ride, complete with kosher meal, back home to my girlfriend. 

My girlfriend doesn’t know I kill people for a living.  She would kill me if she ever found out about it. 

“You take too many business trips,” she says. 

I have to, targets certainly aren’t going to come to me.

-    Knock! Knock!

You knock on the door of the number, which the cute, college sophomore at the front desk gave you.  The door opens and there doesn’t stand the fat, balding Soandso you’ve been expecting. 

It’s your girlfriend. 

What do you do now?

Bang, bang.  It’s over.  Two in the chest.  It’s all over.

You don’t touch anything.  Except your chest.  It’s bleeding, badly.  You feel like you’re underwater.  Your lungs are filling with blood. You’re dying.

      You’d be surprised too.

Reviews

[Last Lying Look]

Wow. All I can say is wow.
That was absolutely incredible! Your an excellent writer.
I can't believe it. The ending was so amazing and it happened so fast.
This story had me sucked in the entire time.
Great work!

[fictionwriter]

Really good story, i really like how each floor is another step he has to take, great dialogue and great detail, and also a really good ending. Great Job

[Raef C. Boylan]

Wow, what a great pace and well-maintained matter of fact tone this story has.
I didn't think I was going to like it when I started reading, because everyone seems to write about killing these days, but your work is original and well-written.
Great detail too; I really felt like I was with the guy the whole time...well, in his mind at least, where he was having some internal dialogue with me.
Overall, excellent writing. Good twist. I didn't understand the Janis Joplin reference until towards the end, then it made sense. Nice one.