47 STEPPED OUT OF THE FISHING BOAT in the coastal town of Plymouth, England. The sun bathed his face as he stepped onto the dock. He then paid the sailor, an old French seaman, a generous amount of money, that he carried in his bag. That would pay for the journey and for the silence.
47 walked along the dock, arriving at the stone-paved streets of the Devon County town. He looked back, seeing the boat departure back to France. He entered a nearby pub to call a cab.
After a few minutes resisting against the jollity and revelry of the drunken locals, the black cab arrived.
_17 Hamilton Gardens. – 47 said, as he sat on the black leathered backseat of the cab.
***
Olivia Hall was washing her dishes after breakfast. In front of her, the white-shuttered window showed to her the outside plants, covered in the morning dew.
As she finished her task, the doorbell rang.
She quickly wiped her hands on a piece of cloth hanging below the sink and walked to the door. The squeaky wooden floor announced her presence, as she approached the front door.
Hall opened an inch of the door before unlocking the chain, looking outside only to find a man waiting. She looked at his feet, then slowly raised her head to make a complete observation of the individual standing on her porch. Testoni black leather shoes, accompanied by no branded custom pants, followed by a greenish checkered long wool jacket and gloves. A bag was hanging from the man's right shoulder, and the head only revealed to Hall what she already knew. He was bald.
Olivia opened the door with a jolt.
_47. – She had her eyebrows raised. – What the heck are you doing here?
He was silent.
_Would you mind if I come in? – He said, in a dark mood.
She opened the door wide enough for him to enter, closing it right after.
_I need your help, Olivia. – He said, turning to her.
_And I said the last time we met that it would be the last time I'd help you.
_I know that. But this is important.
_I don't care about these competitions anymore! – She said, lifting her hand to scratch her forehead. – Providence is no longer a concern to me. I've moved on.
_Providence was destroyed. – He said, soberly.
A silence followed. She frowned, putting her hands on her hips.
_Destroyed?!
47 didn't answer.
_I've been living here for the past four years, 47! Four years! When you went to Argentina, I thought it would be a good idea to lay low, until you gave any signs of success. – She started walking around, gesturing with her hand. – I thought you had been killed! And that Providence was still after me!
_I'm sorry for not having warned you.
She looked at him, skeptic, with her mouth half opened.
_What do you need?
He opened his bag, took two laptops from inside and placed them in a small coffee table in the center of the room.
YOU ARE READING
Hitman: Resurgence
FanfictionAfter a mission in Greece, Agent 47 is hired to protect the Chancellor of Germany during a gala dinner at the White House. When the mission fails and he loses contact with his handler, 47 finds himself in the midst of an international intrigue where...
