The box is small, but it contains all the fury and hatred that Hell could conjure. A silver box, barely the size of a cigarette case, holding fifteen bullets. Seven are engraved with the names of the hearts they belong in. The others are for anyone who gets in my way. I try to be fair. A hired gun is a risky occupation. You are never sure whom you can trust. If a client doesn't like the fact that you are a free agent, they try to find ways to persuade you to be exclusive. I, in my ignorance, decided that I couldn't be threatened. I work for whomever I want, when I want. They sent seven guns after me. I took that as a compliment. I understand that business is business, but these fools made it personal. They took my wife and my little girl from me. I know they are in Heaven now. Hell will be a small price to pay for the retribution I am about to deliver.
First on my list is a kid that calls himself Tyrone. Tyrone thinks he is a thug straight out of the ghetto. He likes his clothes to be baggy, his gold chains to be big, and his music to be loud. This kid could only make it easier if he were a paraplegic. He was easy to find. The boy likes to party and throw his money around. The moron also likes to talk. He tries to impress the women by telling them that he is a gun. He will find the most insecure girl in the place and fill her ear with tales of his exploits, all exaggerated of course. Then as icing on the cake, he takes the dumb girl back to his place where she will allow him and his friends to do as they please. He was easy to track down.
I follow him downtown to a loft on the third floor of a building that should be condemned. A quick survey of the land brings a smile to my face. One entrance with no fire exit and as a bonus, the elevator is broken. There is an abandoned apartment building next door. I slip past a few of the transients and make my way to the third floor. I find a spot facing Tyrone's loft and wait.
It has been three weeks since they were taken from me. I haven't had a decent nights sleep yet. My wife, she never knew about my occupation. She thought I was an armed bodyguard for diplomats, senators, and stool pigeons. Just a couple more years and would have had enough money to retire very comfortably, maybe in Florida, perhaps the Keys. My little girl, my reason for living. She wasn't even a year old. No child should die for the sins of the father. I can't close my eyes without seeing her, that blonde hair and those big blue eyes. Those blue eyes are the only things she got from me, except for my fate. There is no apology that will rectify what I have brought you, my angel, so I won't even try. After an hour I finally drift into sleep.
I am not sure how long I was out before I hear the footsteps. They are quick and quiet. It must be a pro. My hand slips to the handle of my blade. I can't chance using the gun. Whoever this one is, they are not with Tyrone. They are too good. A slight breeze sweeping through the building brings a familiar scent to my nose. I hear a flapping of fabric as the stranger approaches. A trench coat and my guess is it is a black London Fog.
I stay perfectly still as the stranger gets closer. I hear the rustle of his coat as he reaches for me. "Your cologne is too strong." I say to him. "Well I didn't have time for a shower." He replies. Derek is a gun just like me but he makes it look good, like in a movie. He is the perfect image of death. Tall, thin, and pale. He is always wearing his dark glasses and keeps his white hair long, and sports his black trench coat as a symbol to his victims. Derek and I worked a few jobs together early in our careers and found ourselves of kindred spirit. I even made him the best man at my wedding. Derek and I are a dying breed. We believe in honor and skill. I know how that must sound coming from someone like me. Nowadays anyone who can point a gun in the right direction is calling themselves a hitman. It's a crying shame.
Derek tells me that he has found Samantha and Maestro. Otherwise known as S&M because of their "lifestyle". He then tells me that he has assembled a crew of mutual friends and they are ready to go at any time. I tell him this is for me and me alone. Others would just get in the way and make it end too quickly. Each and every one of them will know what it means to suffer. After a few short words he turns and disappears into the darkness with barely an audible footfall. It is just after dusk and Tyrone will be preparing to leave anytime. I make my way down to the car I had recently acquired. Park in the alley and wait. I don't have to wait long. I follow Tyrone and his associates to a nightclub across town.
Being that it was a Tuesday, when it comes to women, the pickings were rather slim. After a couple hours of sulking and bullying the locals he settles on some contraband and heads back home. I wait for a while after they get back so they have a chance to get comfortable and drop their guard. My heart starts to grow cold. It is almost time to release Hell. I have cleansed myself, body and mind and now am ready to pay a visit to Tyrone. I put on my jacket and check that everything is in place. My gun is hanging in its holster just under my left arm. My knife is tucked securely on my left hip and the bullet meant for Tyrone is waiting in my left pocket.
I hear two sets of footsteps behind me but I do not look. I can tell they are no threat. The first set has a long heavy stride with a hollow wooden sound. A woman wearing heels carrying something heavy. The other set of footsteps are quicker with a shorter stride. A child. No more than 4 or 5 years old. I let them pass me before I start towards the entrance. The woman is carrying a bag of groceries and something that I can't see. Then she throws me a curve. Suddenly the woman makes a sharp turn towards Tyrone's building. In her other arm is a sleeping infant. Damn it the cold is going. I have to get her out of here.
I approach her carefully as not to startle her and alert Tyrone. In the calmest voice I can muster I say, "Ma'am, there is nobody in there you want to see." "I live here." She replies in a sharp accusing tone. I have no choice but to be honest with her. Seeing the boy at her side and the little girl in her arms that I know I can't do this with them here. I tell her, "Bad things are going to happen here tonight. You need to take your children and get as far away from here as possible now." I can see the desperation in her eyes. She drops her groceries and pulls her son close and tightens her grip on the baby. Sounding on the verge of tears she pleads, "But I have nowhere else to go. This is all I have."
The cold feeling is long gone now. I get into my wallet and offer the terrified mother $370, my car keys and a business card with Derek's public number. She looks at me as if I am a Pit Bull ready to strike. I tell her to take the car and the money and call this number. He will get her a place to stay. If he should resist tell him to remember Miami. If I don't die tonight Derek is going to kill me. I give her twenty minutes to gather her necessities she only takes five. Now she is gone. Time to get my head in the game.
I spend a few minutes composing myself then head in. Just as suspected there is a guard standing outside the door as if Tyrone's loft is a hot new nightclub. I decide to go with the old lost drunk bit. I stumble up towards the guard as he makes his way to me. He is very strong, but clumsy. He reaches a hand forward to shove me towards the stairs. Too easy. I lunge forward and hit him softly on the throat just enough to stun and silence him. I then wrap my arms around his neck and twist. The muffled snap leaves me satisfied that my work is done. I leave the unfortunate boy where he dropped and approach Tyrone's door. I wait long enough to hear the general location of the voices inside. There are two to my left, one to my right and one directly in front of me very near the door. I don't hear Tyrone's voice. The cold feeling is back stronger than ever. I can't hold back the smile. I draw my gun, take a moment to clear my head and kick open the door.
The smoky room suddenly grew very quiet. They all just stood there like deer in headlights. I jump forward and grab the man near me and pulled him back towards the door as I release two bullets from their prisons, dropping the two men on the left. The henchman on my right was on the opposite side of a bar. He ducks behind and promptly returns brandishing a shotgun. I leave my shocked captive at the door and step back to safety. The henchman at the bar unloads the shotgun into his friend and makes a break for the same door. I can hear his chaotic breathing, as he gets close. I just wait for him.
Very soon he emerges through the door. I don't want to waste the rounds so I let him run right into my knife. As he dies, he throws his arms around my neck and hugs me. With his last breath he says one word. "Mom." Most young men say that. I lay him down and stroll inside the loft. Tyrone is standing next to the stereo as if frozen in time. All that time I spent dispatching his entourage and he didn't move a muscle. He is taking all the fun out of this.
I am beginning to feel like a cat that has a mouse trapped in the corner. "By the shocked expression on your face it is safe for me to assume you remember me." I say as I make my way to him. "But you are… I saw you." He stammers. I look him dead in the eye and say. "This is really going to hurt." With that a shoot him in his right thigh. Tyrone yelps as he collapses to the floor. I have not yet had enough. I walk to stand above him and let loose another round into his other leg. The police don't come to this neighborhood unless some thing is on fire so I can take my time.
He looks up into my eyes and I can see the terror on his pale, white face. Suddenly my mind drifts. It was the night they came for me. I was already lying on the floor with two bullet wounds in my chest when Tyrone finally made an appearance. The coward waited outside until he was sure he would be safe. He gave me a kick and turned his attention to my wife. She was sitting in a chair with a gun to her head. She was quivering and tears were pouring down her face. She was holding our daughter who was screaming in fear. Tyrone walked to her and cupped her breast. He then leans down to her ear and says something to my wife that makes her cry out and shake. Another round was unloaded into me, which set my daughter to crying louder. Tyrone became annoyed by her and slapped my sweet girl full on the face. I tried to get up then heard another shot. That is when everything went black.
I didn't stall more than a couple seconds but it was enough for Tyrone because he reaches behind himself and draws his gun. The boy is quick, very quick. Luckily he is a lousy shot. At point blank range he missed me completely. Snapping back into reality I kick the gun from his hand, sending it crashing through the window behind him. I then plunge my knife deep into his shoulder. The cold feeling has been replaced by raw hatred. I twist the knife as I slowly pull it out of him. He screams and throws himself backwards, rocking the cabinet that houses his stereo. The stereo crashes to the ground, silencing it. With all my might, I drive the knife through his right arm and into the cabinet behind him. Knowing that I had him pinned I turn away.
Tears start to pool in my eyes. I hear Tyrone behind me clawing at my knife. I turn and put one more round into him. Silence came after the thunder. I lost control. The round was supposed to be in his arm. Tyrone's head now lay limp and lifeless on his own chest. No, not like this. It is too soon. I throw myself to the floor and cry out. I claw at the floor. I raise and beat at Tyrone's body screaming as if somehow it will bring him back.
Finally after an hour the loft is in shambles and I am on the floor. I have no more strength. I sleep. Two hours pass before I wake. I take one of Tyrone's cigarettes and light. It has been years since I smoked. It is menthol but it still helps. I collect myself and head towards the door. Next on my list is S&M, but I need to make a stop first. I need to pay a visit to the man that hired them. Tyrone's bullet has found a new home.
The End
