Damned AssassinA Story by John Stussy The young man looked somewhat promising. Well-built, with intelligent ice blue eyes and swept brown hair, he stood about 5 foot 10 inches. His walk was calm and measured, his steps quiet. A scruff of a beard adorned his chin, reaching up to form a mustache. He was dressed very simply, a pair of The bullet-proofed doors to my home office slid shut behind him, and he stood for a moment, looking around. “Whoa, didn’t expect a head of an assassin’s guild to operate from a normal, average-American house. I mean,” His eyes finally met mine. “In the movies you guys are usually in big mansions or skyscrapers with loads of security.” I grinned, and stood, walking to him. “That is We sat studying each other from across the desk. He didn’t appear too unsettled; he was sitting very relaxed in his seat. His eyes wandered calmly throughout the room, as if he was taking notes on its appearance. I cleared my throat and asked “So Mr. Pinarous, what is it that made you search for me in the first place? I am a dangerous man to be sought after.” His eyes met mine, and he sat a little more rigidly in the chair. “Well, I know you’re a mobster, though the news denies it and says that you are a councilman. Likely you have them in your pocket. But, I also know that there is a drug lord you are at war with. This drug lord’s son killed a cousin of mine in a police shoot-out. You know the one I’m talking about, the one involving Jamie Lansing. He was one of four police to die.” His eyes hardened a little more. “I want the man who killed my cousin dead, and I want the man who let him loose on the earth dead as well.” His story made me laugh inside. Typical hotheaded vengeance. How the hell did I know? He can be a runner at least I guess… “So your cousin was killed by Venito Geraldi eh? And you want him and his daddy dead. So why not sponsor me instead? Why come yourself?” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I have no reason to hire you; you seem to be nothing but an angry man. Go get some counseling, move on with your life. You haven’t named a single skill that is of use to me.” His face fell a little, and I realized that he seriously was useless. Ah well, time to drive him from my office. “You look like a father to some children, some pretty household momma’s husband. Why do you want to risk becoming a dead man when they rely on you to live? That just isn’t right you see. You’re a pencil pusher, an office man. You aren’t a mobster, and you certainly aren’t an assassin. So why are you sitting here?” He sat in silence, his head dipping down. His forehead creased in thought, and he kept silent. I watched him for a good minute, then pulled out a .45 from my desk drawer. I unloaded it and began to clean it. He looked up for a moment, then his face fell again. He looked defeated, tired. There was no reason for him to be here, he’d leave in a few minutes. Then he surprised me. He reached into his pocket and pulled out an emerald ring, with the crest of the Geraldi family on it. He tossed it onto the desk, looking at me with his features se hard. “Take a look at that.” I lifted it up to the light. It sure as hell looked genuine, was even worn in the right places for having been carried around for years. The gold finish was slightly faded, and oil from hands was on the surface of the emerald from someone rubbing it constantly. It had to be Jose’s, the family bodyguard for the Geraldi family. He had gone missing days ago, and the police still hadn’t found him. “You know whose it is right?” I set the ring down and looked back up at his face. He was half-smiling, sure that he had made progress. “You stole it from Jose. Where did you find the body?” “I have him being kept in the basement of my summer house. I shot him in the kneecap wile he was walking back to his apartment, and knocked him out with my gun. Wasn’t too hard to drag him into my car and drive for an hour to get to the summer house and tie him up. He didn’t put up too much of a fight, since I shot him in the other kneecap and in the shoulders. I took this ring and came to you, hoping it would give you some conviction as to my seriousness. So, what do you say?” He folded his arms across his chest again, watching my reaction, calculating. “Maybe you are half decent. Maybe. But I have a major question for you. Are you a father to some children, some ladies husband?” “I am, I have four children, all ranging in ages from fifteen to five. My wife and I have been married for sixteen years. She doesn’t know about what I have done at all.” He uncrossed his arms and looked down at the ring. “I kept it a secret. I am efficient.” I tried to not groan aloud. Fathers were a bad thing to have around, wives or children could catch on. The guy seemed to be really good, but it was a chance I simply could not take. One of my best snipers had to be eliminated along with his family because of a problem like that. I sighed, and looked at the man who could have been a great killer. “I’m sorry Mr. Pinarous. But there are complications that arise when family is involved. I cannot have you in my organization unless you are a bachelor. Wives and children are potential messes. But, rest assured, we will take care of this man and his father. You will get your vengeance.” He nodded, looking very crestfallen. After a moment, I stood, and he backed his chair out, his hands on the arm of it. I thought I heard a tiny squeak. Must have to have the wheels oiled on that chair again. I hate squeaking. We shook hands and he looked into my eyes. “You will take care of this right?” I nodded, and walked him to the bullet-proof door. He stuck his hands in his pockets and walked away. As the bullet-proofed door was sliding shut, he turned back and waved. I saw something in the palm of his hand, and then he ran. I couldn’t see a reason for this… Then, I felt myself being flung through the air as my whole office exploded. Damn assassin is a skilled killer alright. © 2008 John StussyAuthor's Note
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6 Reviews Added on May 28, 2008 AuthorJohn StussyAZAboutCook, writer, reader, musician. I don't bte, unless asked to or bitten first. My site's link is to some recordings of my poetry, and I might add some recordings of me playing my sax onto there too... more..Writing
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