Old Story, New Ending

The city street was fairly busy. Cars zoomed by, people strode past one another, and sixteen year-old Medea's eyes just scanned the crowd as she shoved her gloved hands deeper into her coat pocket, trying to evade the cold. She was eyeing the man in the tan trench coat who looked like a good target. She walked towards her target, and just as she approached him, she tripped on a crack jutting out from the sidewalk. Medea landed on the man but he caught her with ease. She apologized profusely and continued on her way. When she was about two blocks away from her accident, Medea turned into an alleyway before pulling the man's wallet out of her pocket. Opening the rugged looking, musty smelling, and well-worn wallet, she pulled the small stack of twenties and tens and discarded the wallet. Shoving the money into her back pocket, she proceeded to walk through the alley way. But as she exited the alley way, glancing back out of anxiety, Medea bumped into someone.

"Oh my-" she stopped short, looking into the cobalt eyes of her target, his gaze sending shivers down her spine. Without saying a word, he gripped Medea's arm before pulling her into a car waiting on the side of the road with the door open. The man shoved Medea inside before stepping in and closing the door behind him. Medea was lying sprawled on the floor, surrounded by three different men as the car drove off. They were about the same height, towering over Medea, and each look like they had the ability to strangle twenty men at the same time with one macabre and grotesque hand.

"That was a good pick," Cobalt Eyes stated, staring Medea in the eyes. She didn't respond.

"Not much of a talker are you?" Cobalt chuckled. Medea just raise an eyebrow as she lay on the floor propped up on her elbows.

"Anyway I would like my wallet back." He outstretched a meaty and gnarled hand.

"Don't have it," Medea replied.

"Don't lie to me," the man smiled, danger radiating off of his every tooth.

"I'm not." Medea smiled. The man raised his lip in a snarl and dropped his hand.

"Tell ya what," Medea said sitting up and crossing her legs. "You tell me what in the hell is happening and I'll give you your wallet back." The man paused, seeming to weigh his options before finally agreeing. The man introduced himself as Jason Ranger, a trained hitman. Immediately, Medea starting plotting an escape route. Seeing the panic in her eyes, Jason tried to calm her down by saying that she wasn't his target.

"There's a politician that needs to be relieved of duty," he said. "I only ask for your help."

"What do you want?"

"You demonstrated early as you pick-pocketed me that you are very good at slight of hand," Jason said. He held up what Medea could only assume was a tracking device. "Just slip this into his pocket and we'll do the rest."

Medea cautiously took the device. She looked at it clearly for a second before slipping it into her pocket. Jason and his crew dropped her off in the center of the city. Jason handed Medea an earpiece to keep in contact and she slipped it into her ear as Jason pinned a microscopic microphone to her coat. With that she set off down the street.

"You're looking for a well-dressed gentleman in a gold suit jacket with black pants," Jason said. Medea spotted the man immediately due to the fact that he was ten times shinier than anything else in the area. His back was towards her and he was half a block away, crossing a street. Medea tried to quickly skirt past people to catch up to him, but the crowd was too thick. Medea was stuck in a sea of elbows, briefcase, and handbags. When she finally pushed through the crowd, her target was all the way across the street. Medea was about to step into the intersection, not bothering to check the sign and immediately was pulled back by a man.