The Hitman

The Deal

I groaned and blinked awake. Man. My head hurt like heck. Like a pickup truck had just run me over.

I yawned and looked around. Wait. I didn't remember this. I stood up slowly and cocked my head. Where was I?

I looked down at my hands. Chains were linking my wrists to the table in front of me. I cursed and yanked at the chains. They rattled agains the metal table but didn't give.

I had been caught. I was foolish enough to get caught.

When I realized all struggling would accomplish was bloody wrists, I sat back down and looked around. I was in a concrete room with two chairs, one on each side of the table. I was sitting in one, but the other was empty. I frowned and leaned back.

A reflective glass stretched the expanse of one wall. No doubt a one-way mirror. I flipped off whoever was watching and grinned. I could almost imagine the snooty agents bristling on the other side.

The events of the previous hour, or day, or however long ago slowly came back to me. The way I had parachuted down. How that lady had found me, and the Green Berets joined her. How I killed that man, and oh how he shouted. I don't derive pleasure from other people's pain, but I had to admire that gorgeous aim.

And then how something had cut me in the back. A tranquilizer, no doubt. Softies. I was more of a fan of lethal weapons. Now they had a prisoner to take care of. I smirked. Not that it would stay that way for long. I would find a way to escape, no problem.

The sound of a key scraping in a lock caught my attention. I watched as the door slowly opened. A woman approached the table and sat down opposite me. Her hair was pulled back in a strict bun and she was wearing a pristine black pantsuit. She cleared her throat and laid down a file of papers. I leaned forward and clasped my hands together.

"Mr. Sievers. I trust you remember our last run-in?" The woman looked me directly in the eyes, all business.

God. She was the one who had found me once my parachute landed. I rubbed my face and sighed. "Listen, lady, I have no idea who you are, but-"

"Brook Aldridge." She produced a badge. "Director of the FBI, New York." Director? Well. What had I gotten myself into? What had I done to deserve their attention?

But obviously I would never ask any of those things. You never let anyone know they have information you don't. Instead, I nodded coolly. "You're a bigwig."

She pocketed the badge and glared at me. "And you are in trouble."

"Please. You've got nothing on me." I leaned back and smirked.

"We've been following your case, Sievers. I'm honestly surprised an amateur like Agent Richard was able to trick you."

I bristled and frowned. Richard. "Don't I have a right to a lawyer?"

"You also have the right to remain silent, which you've obviously done away with. Besides, you're here on direct orders from the president."

"I'm honored."

"Don't let it go to your head, Sievers. You're facing the death penalty. Multiple charges of felony. Murder. And lawyers can't get you out of that. We have the best in the country."

"So you're going to kill me? You came in here to gloat?"

She held up a finger and shook her head. "Not necessarily. It depends on what you do next."

I remained cool, despite every urge I had to jump up and scream at the woman, to stop holding information back. She was so smug, knowing she had the upper hand. God, I wanted to wipe that look right off her face.

She was surprised by my seemingly disinterest and continued. "The FBI has been tracking a terrorist cell here in the States. We need someone to take out the leader."

"What, the good old Green Berets can't do that?"

"Sievers...."

"So the FBI needs a hitman."

"If you want to put it in such....crude terms." She lifted her chin.

I grinned and rubbed my hands together. "What's in it for me?"

"The government will only press for ten years."

Ten years?

I didn't say a word. She kept me in suspense, so I would keep her waiting, too. And the look on her face was priceless.

"No deal."

The woman was shocked. I like to imagine her jaw hitting the ground, but I wasn't one for clichés. But she quickly recovered and gathered up her papers. She shook her head. "Then Death Row it is."

I shrugged. They needed me. Otherwise they wouldn't be going to such lengths as to enlist a criminal. I jabbed a finger at the table. "Listen. You let me out scott-free, and I'll do it."

"You are in no position to make bargains, Mr. Sievers." She sighed and stood up, making for the door. I watched her retreating figure. But with her hand on the knob, she stopped. Was she going to agree?

"Your lawyer will meet with you tomorrow morning, Sievers. Then it's off to Death Row." The door slammed behind her, leaving me utterly alone.