Assassin Novella

Novella

Assassin. The word stung in his mind, penetrating his core.

“I’m not an assassin. I’m… a specialist.” The pistol quivered in his hand. He shut an eye and stared down the barrel at the doors to the Magnificent Ballpoint Hotel.

It was originally a run-down, crumbling shack of a hotel that was bought by a ballpoint pen manufacturing company and rebuilt into the star of Epsilon City.

A young man was stepping through its gold-handled glass doors accompanied by two burly men in black suits, each wearing an earpiece and each had a small microphone clipped to their collar. The young man was busy chatting on a cell phone and paid no attention to the glares coming from the people pushed aside by the suited men.

The suited man to the right of the young man suddenly froze and his hand rushed to the side of his neck as though he had been bit by a mosquito. He collapsed onto a woman who was carrying four shopping bags and still miraculously talked on her cell phone. Of course, now her conversation was… interrupted as the suited man’s blood spilled on her lovely pink dress.

The young man’s phone chat was also bothered and he and his remaining bodyguard began to flee the scene with their heads down.

“You said you never missed.”

“I didn’t.” He stood up, whipping out a second pistol from his left side and cocking it at the man behind him, while the other remained pointed at the street below. Another shot was fired and the tire of a white Honda Civic was blown out. It swerved into the sidewalk, killing the young man who couldn’t see it coming because his head was still down.

He confidently strode past the man with both guns down. “There, now it looks like an accident.”

“I didn’t request an accident; it was supposed to look like a hit.”

“Oh well, he’s dead isn’t he?” He spun around and another shot was fired. Another body fell to the ground. Another empty bullet shell fell with it.

§§§§§

“Today, a horrific scene unrolled in front of the Magnificent Ballpoint Hotel. A young man, now identified as Robert Dumall, was killed by a car that had just had its tire blown out. The driver is in critical condition and on life support in the nearby Wallace Hospital.”

“Another person wearing a black suit was shot in the neck and died just before the car crash. This person was seen with Robert Dumall before the crash and was identified by many witnesses. Robert Dumall has been identified as a member of some form of mafia gang and the man with him is assumed to have been a bodyguard who was accidentally killed in an attempt at Mr. Dumall.”

“Lastly, an unidentified person was found on the rooftop of the Papers Inc. building just across the street. This person had also been shot and it is now known that the bullet that killed the bodyguard and the one that this man came from the same killer and the theory is that this man was in the wrong place at the wrong time as he isn’t part of any mafia gang or linked to Dumall in any way.”

The TV screen turned black except for a single dot of light in the centre. It buzzed a little and the dot was gone.    

“You really did it this time.” The woman stood up from the tattered yet soft chair that lay in front of the twenty year old TV. “Do you even realize the complications? Not only did you kill three people, you also managed to do it in public and the media has swarmed all over it and is scrutinizing it down to the last detail.”

“Perfect.”

“No, it isn’t. Now because you dragged me into your business five years ago, I have to move, and I have to keep this house safe.”