Jonathan Mayers: Origins

Chapter Six

Having finished his sandwich, Walter Cain got up and walked towards the counter. To a normal eye, it would appear that he was simply going there to place money in the tip jar. However, his true objective was to confront The Kid; with no purpose other than to let him know that he, Walter Cain, was aware that he was after him.

Standing next to The Kid, who had paused his chat with the waitress, Cain buried his hand into his pocket in order to pull out some changed, and asked:

“ Nice weather we had today, wasn’t it?”

The Kid turned towards him. Although it was apparent that he was fighting to control it, Walter could tell that he was shocked. He smiled to himself. By approaching him, Walter had just broken one of the fundamental laws of assassination that he taught The Kid: the target will never make contact with you if they fear for their life. If they are unaware of your presence or intent, they may come near you, but once they know what your true purpose is, they’ll stay clear of you.

Instantly replacing the look of shock and confusion with a cheerful smile, The Kid returned with “ Yes, I’m actually so glad that the sun came out today, and it wasn’t raining as it usually does. I was actually able to get some work done.” he ended with a laugh.

Work done? It was Cain’s turn to be confused now. Did The Kid have another assignment before he came after him? Walter was beginning to have a bad feeling about this.

He placed several quarters in the jar, and said “ That’s good. Anyway, get home safe kid.”

The Kid beamed up at him “ You too mate. Enjoy your night.”

As Walter walked away, it could have been his ears deceiving him, but he swore he heard The Kid add under his breath:

“ It’ll be one of the last ones you have…”

Cain spent the entire walk home keeping his eyes peeled for any people shadowing him. Having spent several years in a world of secrecy, he had developed a strategy for finding out who was following him. He would leave one of his shoelaces untied, and after a few minutes, he would stoop down to tie it. While tying it, he would cast a glance over his shoulder at who was behind him. Since taking his lace would take a minute at most, he would take that maximum minute in order to allow those behind him to pass him. However, he would tie the lace in such a way that it would untie after a while. He would then repeat the cycle. After doing this a few times, he would be able to pinpoint who exactly was following him. This technique had saved his life several times in the past.

Today, however, he was unable to distinguish anyone following him. It was odd, he thought to himself, that The Kid would work without assistance on his first kill without a mentor. It was even more suspicious when you take into consideration that Walter Cain was a high profile target. He just couldn’t fathom JHF allowing him to work on this solo.

And something else was nagging him too. He thought back to another fundamental rule he taught The Kid: never enter your target’s field of view unless you intend to kill them right there and then. The Kid broke that rule by entering the cafe. But then he thought back to something else he taught regarding that rule: the only exception is if you, as the assassin, know something the target doesn’t. Was he being played? Did The Kid have a game plan that he, Walter, was unaware of?

He shook his head in order to clear his head. There was no point in dwelling over all that. The main objective was to reach his wife and son, and develop a survival plan from there.

His wife. Thinking about her, a smile crept across his face. Anna Cain had been his wife for 6 years, even before he left JHF. In fact, they had met while he was on a mission in Canada. He had been sent to oversee a shipment of weapons from Canada to Mexico, led by a crime boss named Jason Crewe. Things got out of hand, however, and a mini war broke out. Anna’s family got caught in the crossfire, and Walter saved them. Unfortunately, he ended up having to kill Jason Crewe. This led to Crewe’s son, Nathan, vowing to kill Cain someday. In the meantime, Anna and Walter stayed in touch, and started and maintained a relationship. She knew what he did for a living, and obviously did not approve, but she stayed by his side. She was understandably delighted when he chose to abandon JHF a year ago, and the two of them moved to New York, and were joined a few months ago by a new addition to the family, a son.

It was to this house that Walter now walked up to. Although he had been living here for a short while, the blue house he now called home had provided him with some wonderful memories. He fondly gazed at the garden, which he and his wife tended to together, then quickly walked up the steps to the door. His wife should be home from work by now, so it would take at most until 9PM to get everything ready for their escape.

However, as he entered the house, a dead silence greeted him. His first thought was that she had gone to the store a few blocks down and had taken their son with her, but he disregarded that idea as she would have locked the door. “Maybe she was upstairs sleeping?” he thought to himself, starting to feel the slimy fingers of panic gripping him.

“Anna?” he called out, then, more confidently; “Anna…I’m home love! Anna?”

He continued calling her name as he started to walk around the house. He had the feeling that he wasn’t alone in the house, yet his wife didn’t respond. As he passed by, he noticed the door to his study slightly ajar. He knew he had locked it before he left this morning, so why was it open now? Maybe his wife was in there, buried in a book as she usually was, and didn’t hear him calling. He pushed the door fully open.

“Anna, I’ve been calling you for…” he started to say.

Then stopped.

The only exception to the rule is if you, the assassin, know something the target doesn’t.

This was it…wasn’t it? He thought to himself. This is why the damn bastard was so confident, this is why he walked into the cafe like he owned the place.

He stepped into the room, and walked towards the chair.

In it sat his wife, Anna Cain, the woman he had adored for several years.

If one looked at only her back, it would seem as if she was merely resting in the chair, taking a nap, with a peaceful expression on her face.

It was not a nap.

Her face was not peaceful.

At least, the half of it that wasn’t blown out all over the carpet and desk wasn’t.

Walter couldn’t bear to come closer, to see his wife, his love, in such a state…dead…before his eyes.

He did something he hadn’t done since he was a boy growing up in Bristol. He began to cry.

Then he collapsed to the floor, screaming towards the heavens…..