Wrestling the Kraken

Bridgett

Bridgett

Bridgett waited at the abandoned construction site. This was her first time using Vito for this kind of job and with the last incident, she still wasn't sure if he was ready. She didn't need to trust him. That was a far stretch for any relationship let alone a business one. She just needed to rely on him. Dependability. Could he be counted on?

Every city, there was a Vito and she felt like she was in a constant state of recruitment and training. At least it created a network for her, whenever she happened to be in those particular cities. Still... Vito was the only one... willing. That was either good news or trouble.

Gravel being crunched alerted her and she went into position. Behind a cove of concrete blocks positioned around an opening on the floor, Bridgett could see the first floor down below her. A piece of plywood covered most of the opening, except for a slip that gave her enough of a view.

The building had no walls up yet on any of the floors, so she could see two people walking into the first floor. They carried a limp body wrapped in a blanket. Great, something else to dispose of. They set the body on the chair that was placed ready for them on top of a plastic sheet on the floor.

In the moonlight, she could see that Vito himself wasn't there. Good job Vito. These jobs called for reliable, disposable people. Ones who could get the job done, but who could also take the fall.

Tossing the blanket aside, they began to tie a blindfolded Claire to the chair with rope that was found next to it. Then they took their stance behind her and waited.

Good. Very good. Now it's time to go see how much Ms. Bernett actually knows.

Bridgett made her way down towards the back of the building. Using measured steps and applying pressure down on the front of her foot, rather than the heel, she didn't make a sound. On the ground, she took a dirt path to avoid the gravel, leading her into the depths of the shadows where the moonlight struggled to reach. She faded into the background.

♦

Bridgett looked around, before checking the door knob to Claire's apartment. Unlocked. Good job. She closed the door behind her with careful precision. This was a conscious practice. She learned her lesson the hard way, during the earlier years, when she had almost been caught by a neighbor due to her ignorant clumsiness. Now she was stealth. She was quiet. The shadows and her had a mutual understanding. The dark could only remain dark, until someone turned on a light. For some twisted reason, in the beginning, she hoped someone had. That someone would come and shine a light, freeing her from the devil's cloak. No one did. The hope never went away, but she learned to ignore it.

Moving in a soft, gentle fashion, she checked the drawers, pushing papers and notepads aside. Nothing. She looked around areas of likely candidates for hidden compartments. Nothing. Then she found her purse in the closet. Women always kept all kinds of things in there so... maybe.

Resisting the urge to dump out the contents, she sifted through the items, so as to not move anything out of its original place. Aha! She pulled out a tape recorder.

Pressing play, she sat back and listened. Dante's voice came on. Closing her eyes, she let the voices and their banter illustrate the scene in her mind.

She pictured Dante's gestures- a steady stare at the end of his sentence, the smile, debating. He seemed fond of this one. Good. Maybe there would be nothing to take care of then. She always preferred it happen that way.

Bridgett knew she owed him, but after eight years, she was feeling the weight of it. There seemed to be quite a few obstacles that needed clearing in his path. Though the thought brought to mind the obstacle he cleared for her. It didn't compare. She still owed him much more. A wave of shame rose at her complaining. She focused again on the voices. The sounds, the tones, the rhythm of their idiosyncrasy. Her reactions, the coy dropping of her gaze as she smiled at his remark, then peered slowly up. The voices painted it all. She remained still and listened, just as she learned to do as a child.