TARGET [Tom Hiddleston Fanfiction]

Chapter 3 : A token

[3rd person POV]

I tell you what I really hate about living in London: the people. So rude and noisy, not caring about anyone else except themselves. I sometimes wonder why on earth I decided to move away from home in Moscow in the first place. Perhaps it was the prospect of work, or the fact I had no choice. But not like anyone here cares as I lean against the wall on the street corner next to Canary Wharf. I have to suppress a little chuckle as I watch all the business men passing by in their expensive suits, pushing their hands deeper into their pockets when they catch sight of me. Not that I have any interest in trying to rob them right now, too many cameras, plus I don't want to have to throw away my perfectly good cup of cheap McDonalds coffee. Yep, times are that bad when you have to get a Maccys coffee instead of Starbucks.

Work has been far and few between, with nothing popping up on my radar for a few weeks now. I have a few specific set of skills, which make me highly employable in a surprisingly demanding market. Not that I'd welcomely tell people who ask what I do; I don't want to get put in prison that quickly.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

I frown a little as I pull out my phone, hearing it ring. The number calling is unknown, which puzzles me. Even the people I have worked for in the past can't keep their number hidden from me, phone hacking being just one of my skills, so to find someone new phoning me just makes me all the more curious. Taking a quick look to see no one is close by, I answer.

"Ah, good. I have got the right number. I must say, you are a hard man to track down".

I stay silent on the other end, listening to the male, British voice on the other end of the line, my frown growing. The voice is unfamiliar, defiantly someone new, but there is an arrogant tone there, so someone defiantly knowing what they are after. I'm half inclined to hang up on them, but curiosity has the better of me, although I stay silent and say nothing.

"Well the least you can do is say hello. Or do Russians not do that kind of thing over the phone?"

Whoever this person is, they are already getting on my nerves. Young, male, and cocky, a bad combination. I half want to just tell them to shut up and ask how they know who I am, but I don't want them to hang up just yet, not until I know who I'm dealing with.

"My my, you are quite the brute. No wonder people are avoiding you".

So he can see me? Okay. Now he has my full attention. Keeping an almost solid exterior, my eyes quickly dart left to right, scanning all possible scouting positions near to me. This caller could be anywhere, from the coffee shop opposite, to one of the office block windows, or even just someone passing by in the sea of suits. I'll give them credit, he's got some skills, just some. Bravery not being one of them, as I can tell he is not one for face-to-face confrontation.

"Now I have your attention, I have a proposition to offer you. A job"

I raise an eyebrow, curious, listening. A job? They must have read my mind, but of course, I'm not going to come across so easily. Eagerness gets you nowhere in life. Always play hard to get. Especially when it comes to getting a job in this industry.

"It's pretty simple. Should take no longer than a month. No fuss. No funny business. No strings attached".

Simple? I have to stop myself from laughing when he says that. Of course it's never simple. What does he take me for, an idiot? I've already made up my mind what I am going to do next, so he has 30 seconds to change my mind. I watch the homeless man shuffle past, begging people for money. A young mother passes by, her young child clutching tightly onto her hand. The stinking rich business types waltz on by, boasting loudly about their activities, or conversing about their cheating wives. Still I cannot see this potential employer in sight. Maybe he's ugly?

"Look, I know you're unemployed currently and that your rent is up soon. Let me help you out. You will of course be rewarded handsomely for your services".

I tighten my knuckles on my coffee at his mocking tone. Not only is he trying to talk to me like a child, but he has obviously been following me. Stalking me. Whatever this man has planned, he has obviously been plotting it for some time in great detail. Still I remain silent, just letting him name his price, to see if he is being serious, my eyes still scanning around me trying to find him.

"How does 10 million sound?"

This guy can't be serious? It has to be a joke. No one in their right mind who had that much money to begin with would ever just give it away like that to someone like him unless they needed his services desperately. 10 million? £10,000,000? This had to be a trick.

"You think I'm joking? Far from it. I'm deadly serious. Just to prove it, check your bank balance".

I frown, a little confused, and annoyed. So he has my bank details now? Clearly I must have messed up and left a trace of me somewhere on a previous job. After this phone call, I certainly won't do that again.

"Go on. Check it. Consider it a gift. A token of my appreciation for your work".

I toss my now cold coffee into the nearest bin, and reach into my pocket, pulling out what looks like an old iPod. It had been that once, but after a few modifications of my own, it was now the smallest super computer which could still play your cheesy music whilst you just sat in the park, hacking into the national grid. Not that I spend my Sunday mornings doing that whilst watching the football, of course. I unlocked it and hacked into one of the off shore branches that currently holds some of my remaining funds. If my eyes could expand to the size of golf balls, they would have. On the small screen in front of me displayed the total currently in my bank, with the most recent transaction being that of ... £100,000! Paid by an unknown source.

"Like I said, a small token. There is plenty more where that came from my friend"

My eyes catch a flash of movement up in one of the office block windows. It must be him! Turns out to be nothing more than a secretary making out with her boss. Typical.

"So, how's about it? Are you in?"

I think things through. A tempting offer, from a stranger who knows more about me than I do about them. If I didn't know better, I would say he is used to trending on dangerous ground. A position to which I now found myself in. My identity had been compromised. This man knew who I was, knew where I lived, knew what I did, and for all I knew, probably had a sniper trained right at me now. Whoever this person was, they meant business, and I am not one to turn down business.

"When do we start?", I asked. I heard them chuckle on the other end of the line. "Soon. Be ready. And don't worry, you'll get the details soon". Then they hung up.

I pocketed my phone wearily, suddenly feeling as if all eyes were on me. I knew no body normal was even paying any attention to me standing there, just passing by, carrying on with their boring lives. I cracked my knuckles, before slipping them into my pockets, my fingertips gently brushing against my gun hidden there. This was something big, something dangerous. Casting a weary look around, I set off in the direction of my flat, knowing whoever was now my 'boss' was watching, taking note, and probably putting a big tick next to my name.

And that they had done, in their mind, as the suited figure standing on the rooftop of the building block directly opposite pocketed their phone, a grin on their lips, watching their latest employee walk off down the street. "Not long now. Not long now", he chuckled with a dance, ruffling his windswept hair as he made his little celebration, the clock now ticking down in his mind, until his team stuck, striking zero.

[A/N : I got bored on the train so decided to write another chapter. Tah-dah! So who is this mysterious stranger, and more to the point, who's the man blowing his cash? Who knows? Well, I do, duh! But you'll have to wait and see ;)

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