Darke Beginnings

Chapter #6

The soiree was a little under an hour's drive from Martin's estate and the men made the most of that time by strategically planning. Martin had brought along a dossier that included photographs and biographies on the intended target. He handed it to Lucien to study. “I want you to pay close attention to who this man speaks with, his body language, anything that could indicate suspicion,” he said, “He knows me, so I will remain on the peripherals. I will be relying on you to be my eyes and ears.” Martin handed both Lucien and Andre tiny in-ear communication devices. He showed Lucien how to turn his on and fit it in his ear. “Our target tonight is codenamed 'Blackbird.' Don't forget that.”

Lucien nodded while trying to adjust his device. “Martin,” he sighed, “Do you really think I'm ready for this? I mean, the only time I've killed a man, I was drunk.” He furrowed his eyebrows and leaned his chin on his hand.

“Relax, Luc, Andre will be the primary on this one, you only need to observe and distract.”

Taking a deep breath, Lucien leaned back into his seat and studied the file in his lap. The text on the front supposedly telling him all he needed to know about their victim:
“Name: Cameron James Marshall
Age: 38
Marital Status: Married to Juliet Anne Dumont Marshall, age 24
Children: 1 – Cameron James Marshall Jr.”

Loving them young and spreading the family name, eh, Cam, Lucien thought. He skimmed past Cam Marshall's employment history, his hobbies, professional and social clubs, preferring to flip to the photographs instead. Cam Marshall was not handsome, but he was not an ugly man, either. His features were rather plain, ruddy skin, thin lips, nose devoid of any special characteristics. His hair was dark brown, flecked with gray and receding, leaving him with a rather large forehead. In the photos of him smiling, Lucien noticed a crooked front tooth and another one chipped, probably from Cam's days as a boxer. He was also slightly muscular, but the bulge in his midriff indicated that the muscles on his arms were the only ones that had any sense of tone and that he had let himself go to the middle-age spread already. There was also a photograph of Cam and his wife Juliet. She was gorgeous, her smiling visage looking up from the flat page stirred something in Lucien. Her dark hair flowed to the middle of her back, raven black and straight like ribbon. She was smiling in this one, her heart-shaped face pierced by two deep dimples, decorated by high, blushing cheekbones, plump red lips, and her eyes a sea of sapphire that nearly jumped off the photograph. Where Cam's hand wrapped around her, she had a tapered waist. She was in a black t-shirt and tight-fitting jeans, which simultaneously flattered her figure and hid it in the most intriguing way possible. Lucien found himself hoping that she would be there, that he would get a chance to meet the gorgeous creature he was seeing, forgetting that part of his job was to assist in the assassination of her husband.

He leaned his head back and absently watched scenery out the window, while listening to Martin and Andre discuss strategies. Their plan more or less involved the use of injection, a straight shot of potassium chloride that would stop Cam Marshall's heart in an instant, making it look like he had suffered a fatal heart attack. Of course, Martin was well-prepared, having brought along a small, silver cigarette case in which he concealed the syringe filled with the offending liquid. Andre would be able to pull the syringe out and inject without being noticed, while Lucien was a point of distraction, however, should their plans not proceed as this, Lucien was also armed with his own cigarette case. There were other fail-safes, things that Martin had set in motion prior to informing the men of the job, but Andre knew better than to ask and Lucien had no idea.

Their arrival at the party was no less than the spectacular event Lucien had envisioned. He had imagined the balls that his parents had attended, all the black-tie parties, but he had never been a part of them, and now here he was, guest of the Russian Ambassador, in service to what was arguably one of the most influential group of men on the planet. The limo door was opened and they exited, Martin first, followed by Andre, and at last Lucien. There was a blue carpet laid out, stretching from the Valet station to the wide front doors of the Ambassador's mansion where they could already see people gathered dressed in their finest attire. Floodlights saturated the entire circular drive in a bright, white light, making Lucien almost feel like a movie star might feel. As they made their way up the stone staircase, the lights from inside leaked out, shining bright orbs of red, blue, yellow on their tuxes and the thump of dance music caused Lucien's heart to beat even harder keeping up with the rhythm. He made a quick scan around the room, noticing that there weren't as many people as he had thought would be there and then realizing that they were not arriving fashionably late, as more of the guests soon began pouring in.