CHAPTER ONE
As I opened the swing doors, the smell of liquor hit me like a force. I stood for a bit taking in the scenery before me. Men and women from different works of life crowded the chairs and the dance floor. Some chatted amongst themselves, while others rocked to the beats from the live band playing on the stage.
The bar, however, seemed to be in a different world of its own. All around it sitting on stools were men jostling for beer or whisky, while others threw back the contents from their bottles down their throats.
It looked like a war-zone, except the prize was alcohol and there would be no prisoners.
I smiled to myself. It was stampede night. All the stools around the bar had been occupied, but I needed to be close to the beer, so I headed there. I sashayed forward, my hips taking up a rhythm of their own.
"Hi!" I flapped my eyelashes at this guy with a port belly that could rival King Kong's. "Can I have a seat, please, kind sir?"
He looked at me long enough to know I had a b sized-cup and full hips, and then he made the mistake of leering. "Yeah, sweetheart, you can seat on my lap and I'll give you some of my beer."
Poor man.
I knew he was going to try to draw me to him, and I sighed tiredly.
I gave him a chance. I even stepped back, but he was such a pig-headed son of a gun, so I tried telepathy instead. Maybe that was his thing.
Don't do it, mister, it'll only end in sorrow for you.
But when do men ever listen?
As his hand rose to curl around my waist, I fisted my right hand and hung it in the air as a warning. He flashed his upper missing teeth at me instead of taking heed, stood and walked close to me.
Maybe he thought I was some helpless woman that didn't know how to defend herself, or it could have been because I had red hair and wore a leather mini skirt. Whatever the case was, he didn't see it coming.
My hand landed on his jaw, hot and heavy, giving him and upper cut and making sure to rearrange it. Yeah, he wouldn't be able to talk to anyone for awhile, that's for sure.
For a big man, he went down pretty quickly. He was out like a light at my feet. Make that a beer-filled light.
"Hi, Z!" Ron smiled at me from behind the counter. He didn't so much as blink as he set a green bottle in front of me.
I opened it, about to tip it into my mouth when from the corner of my eyes, I saw him. It had to be him. He stood out like a sore thumb in stark comparison to the other guys around. What with his cold demeanor and all black leather get up, he was a poster boy for dangerous, and he wore it well. He sauntered over to me and with a piercing look at the guy sitting beside me, that one fled, and he took his place.
"I can see you've already made yourself at home." He glanced meaningfully at the unconscious man lying not far from my feet. One of the bouncers was already dragging him away by his legs.
"What can I say, I'm a regular." I shrugged, tipping back my head and gulping the contents of my bottle and smacking my lips after.
"I'll have what she just downed." He indicated to Ron, who had anticipated his request and set before him an identical green bottle.
The man removed a long brown envelope from inside his coat and slid it on the table towards me. I caught it, just before it could get away. As I brought out a 12 by 14 black and white picture of a man from the envelope, I became mesmerized. The man in the picture could have been mistaken for a model by all and any standards. His black hair framed an oval face and a square jaw, while his eyes were grey, hooded and smoldering.
I had never seen a man with such arresting features before. And his eyes, they were so beautiful.
The man I stared at was hot, make that drop dead hot, by any standards.
Pity he had to die.
I looked up to see leather guy quirking a brow at me. "There a problem?"
I shrugged. "Just wondering when you want him gone."
"Tomorrow!" He arched a brow, as if daring me to refuse.
I tried not to look surprised but I couldn't not. That was almost impossible.
"I heard you're the best, so why look so shocked?" His brows arched cockily as he stared at me.
I knew what he was trying to do and I was over that male ego bullshit. I've had to prove myself time without number in this business, and I'll be damned if some man thinks he can swing by and cast aspersions on my reputation.
"For two million quid, I'll do it now if you want." I jutted my chin, daring him to back down. I wasn't just the best, I didn't come cheap either.
He nodded. "My boss will pay you five million. Two and a half million upfront in an untraceable account to be accessed immediately you sign here. . . " He pointed to a form he had whipped out, ". . .and the rest once the job is done."
I struggled not to widen my eyes. Five million was a whole lot of dough. Chito could be made whole again, and I could start a good business with the rest of the money and leave this kind of life I was presently in.
"What's the problem?" The man's gaze settled on me penetratingly. "Money too small for you? My boss is very generous, he can up it if you do a good clean job."
"No problem, mister, except I don't accept transfers upfront. For me, cash is king. Cash advance first, and then a transfer for the balance. I must be paid in full."
The man's eyes glistened dangerously as he leaned forward. "Do you except me to walk around with that amount of money?"
My lips curled in a smile and I also leaned forward. My face was only two inches from his as I replied. "You should have thought about that before contacting me. That's my policy."
Our eyes locked. This wasn't about money, it was a battle of dominance. Who would capitulate first. I didn't blink, neither did I flinch. And then his upper lip tugged up in a smile and he nodded. He drew the briefcase on the floor up to the bar and slid it across to me.
I caught it and looked at him. "What's this?"
"Open it and see."
Without taking my eyes off him, I opened the briefcase slightly. It was stacked with neat-looking one hundred dollar bills. I brought out one and sniffed it before putting it back. I looked up to see the man watching me closely.
"Hi, my name is Zero, glad to make your acquaintance."
I lifted a hand towards him in a hand shake and watched in rising amusement, the flow of emotions on his face. I knew he debated on whether to shake me or not. Coming to a conclusion, he brought out his hand and clasped mine in a firm shake.
Just as he was about to release my hand, I leaned close once more. "I have one question."What's his profession?" I tapped the picture in my hand.
Ridges appeared on his brows immediately, and I knew he didn't like my inquisition. Too bad, because even I lived by a code, and that was never to kill a man who didn't have blood on his own hands.
Trust me, I always knew.
The man released a heavy sigh, removed his hand from mine and inclined his head. "Fair enough, he's a scientist who has been made rich by killing a lot of people with his drugs, and that's all you need to know. Now, enough talking. Are you in or out?"
I looked at the man seating before me for what seemed like a long time but could only have been a few seconds, and shook my head. "I'm in!"
His face stretched in a smile, but somehow it didn't sit well on his face, unlike Mr. Hot in the picture, the look alike model that was actually a scientist. The man opened his jacket and brought out a phone which before my very eyes, was enlarged to form a mini laptop.
I watched as he tapped on some buttons and after some seconds, turned it round to face me. I saw the name of an escrow bank on the top corner and below it, was two and a half . . . I counted the number of zeros. I filled in the column for my offshore bank details and watched as he tapped on the send button. I smiled in satisfaction as I watched the cursor disappear and in its place, a message popped up - SENT.
"Inside the envelope you're holding are more details of him. Find him and end his life once and for all. My boss will be waiting impatiently tomorrow for the news. Do not contact me when you're done, trust me, my boss will find out."
He stood, tucked the phone back into his jacket, and without a goodbye, walked off.
Rude.
I looked at his retreating back until he disappeared from sight before I turned to Ron once again. "Another bottle, please. Oh, never mind." I picked up the bottle the man hadn't even touched. "I'll have his."
I downed the contents in five gulps and belched loudly. The man on my left poked his head out and smiled. "I like a woman that can throw back her liquor, and you seem to fit that bill. Care for a dance?"
I smiled and shrugged. Why not. I needed to dance to my victory of getting five million just like that. But as I got up to dance, something about this deal didn't sit right with me. I couldn't pin point what it was, but as the night went on and I took more bottles of beer, the feeling left me and was quickly replaced with a feeling of euphoria.
I deserved this break, and so did Chito.
CHAPTER TWOThere was a loud ringing noise that won't let up. It was so shrill and bothersome. Even when I rolled to the other side of the bed, it persisted. I covered my ears with such force, I almost busted my eardrums."Uhhhh! Stop that infernal noise."It stopped miraculously and I was able to breathe easier, but just when I was about to turn, it started up once again."Will you please stop your alarm clock, it's messing with my sleep." I woke with a start to see Chito beside my bed, hair mussed, eyes red and heavy from lack of sleep.Pity coursed through me. I was sure he had not been able to sleep since, and here I was messing it up. I rolled over and hit the off button on my bedside alarm. "Sorry, buddy, I thought I was dreaming. Try and get some sleep."I rolled to the other side, intent on catching some more shut eye, but after a few minutes of tossing and turning, I gave up and opened my eyes. I got out of bed and was sh
CHAPTER THREEI stretched tiredly in the back seat of my Lincoln Navigator, lulled by the movement of the car. I closed my eyes and tried to get some sleep. Just ten minutes would do, at least for now. As I closed them, I was plagued with visions of a pain-filled Aretha. She had not been able to sleep at all last night. She had tossed and turned, holding her stomach and groaning in pain. Even the strong pain killers given to her by the doctor had not worked. I felt helpless as I had sat beside her. I couldn't even hold her close anymore as her body temperature was through the roof.Her fever had broken sometime in the early hours of the morning and she had finally stopped clutching her stomach, but the worst was not over. As doe-eyed as I was and as much as I wanted it to be so, I couldn't hide away from the fact anymore.My wife was dying.The truth grabbed me by the hair and slapped me in the face. That was when the hysteri
THE DIAGNOSIS The call came in the night while I was fast asleep holding Aretha. It was one of those rare moments where she had not thrashed all through the night. I checked that she was still breathing and quietly slipped out of bed making sure not to wake her. It wasn't every day I got to have the luxury of holding her close, so naturally I was upset when once I got into junior's bedroom, I picked the call. "Hello, is this Mr. Moore?" The strange clinical voice asked. After revealing my identity to the caller, he introduced himself as doctor Rogers from Almond hospital. I had a flash back of a medium sized man in a blue scrub underneath a white lab coat. "I'm afraid the diagnosis doesn't look too encouraging, sir. Your secretary has blunt head trauma, five cracked ribs a fractured hip and a punctured lung. She might not last tonight. Even if she does, it will be extensive work to make her whole again; she will need physiotherapy to learn how to work again, she might or might not
THE FUNERAL Aretha's condition took a turn for the worse and I was called in by the specialist. One look at her and I knew she wasn't going to last the night. He left me alone by her bedside but all I could do was stand and stare. She was all skin and bones having stopped eating over a month ago. She lay asleep looking deceptively peaceful, but I knew that was only a ruse, for when the pain came, it was like an avalanche. I didn't know when my feet moved me forward and I knelt in front of her and caressed her balding head. She opened her eyes and in a moment of clarity, smiled at me. "I love you, Alex." I smiled through the tears in my eyes, happy she had recognized me, but a few seconds later, she closed her eyes and drew her last breath. "No, no, no, no, you can't leave me, you can't." I got a hold of her and shook her hoping she would wake and tell me 'surprise' like she used to do when she was hale and hearty. Unfortunately, that never happened. I broke down completely, sobb
AFTERI woke the following morning wondering how I had gotten into my bed. Memories of the day before assailed me and despair hit me all over again like a flower in full bloom.I closed my eyes as tears filled them. I was too damn emotional for a man. I squeezed my eyelids, feeling the pain flare up behind them. I sighed and opened them again. All around me, traces of Aretha had all but vanished. The matching golden filigree bedside lamps she bought, the two gilt high backed chairs in front of the bed, the pure cotton bedsheets she favored over the silk one's I preferred. Even her clothes, shoes and all of her ornaments, every single item, I had given to charity.They were a painful reminder of what was meant to be, but wasn't.My eyes widened when they fell on the curtains.Who in their right mind would agree to have sunshiny yellow curtains?Aretha, that's who.She had always loved the colour yellow. Not just any shade of yellow. It had to be the exact shade of the sun - yellow with
THE VISIT". . .so I punched him in the face.""But why did you punch him in the face, Mr. Moore?" The policeman cocked his head like he was expecting to hear something along the lines of well, because after x and y, the next alphabet wasn't z.I stifled the look of irritation creeping up on my face and answered tiredly. "Because he was badmouthing my wife and talking about her in a disrespectful way. You don't get to talk bad about a man's wife and expect not to get punched in the face."The five police men looked at each other and nodded. "He's right." One of them announced."But where were you exactly?" The one in the middle asked.I lifted my hands that were propped on my knees and put them on the table. The policemen close to my left must have thought I was going to bring out a weapon or something, because his hand went to the waistband of his trousers and hovered there. When he saw all I did was change posture, he relaxed, but I noticed his attention was drawn to my knuckles.Pa
THE OTHER SIDECould this morning get any messier?Twice, I had spilt tea on two different ties, and twice, I had changed them. Two charcoal grey ties that would have immediately screamed elegant.I blamed the two cups of tea I had binge-drunk in a fit of anxiety. The offending items sat on my bedside table looking deceptively innocent.The question that had been creeping into my head after I removed yet the second tie, was what was I going to wear?I was meant to meet with some members from the DEA today at my laboratory and I didn't want to mess it up like I had done the last time. The first impression was nothing to write home about, so the second one had to be near-perfect."Why don't you wear another tie?" The robot asked from behind me.I had put back the microchip I removed back into it's head because I felt guilty and wanted to apologize. Not to the robot, but to Aretha, my wife. I knew she wouldn't like me shutting down the gift I bought for her.I stood in front of the full
THE ENDORSEMENTHelp! I need an antidote for anxiety.It had been one week. One week of twiddling my fingers and wearing my carpet thin. One week of not hearing back from the DEA.I was almost foaming at the mouth. Every day like clockwork, I would get to the office before anyone, because I was going stir-crazy at home, amongst my staff. I probably checked the company mail about ten times every hour. When that didn't yield any fruit, I shifted my attention to my personal mail, and then it was back to the company mail once again.And then I began to ruminate.Maybe they got some alphabets mixed up. It had happened to me once when I sent a mail to a company and waited for weeks for a reply. They eventually called saying they hadn't gotten any mail from me. Turned out I had mixed up an n with an m.So maybe that was what probably happened.Mr. Hendricks did seem impressed, so what was the big hold up about?A thought occurred to me. Perhaps they wanted to send me a personal text message