The Assassin's Assistant

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

You think your job is bad? Try mine. You'll shut up.

We spent the rest of the night reading files on this guy, taking notes, and making plans. Wait. Correction, I spent the rest of the night reading files, taking notes, and making plans. Brittany placed herself in front of one of the screens and spent the rest of her night on Facebook. Every once in a while, I'd hatch a 5-star plan, and go show it to Brittany. She'd look at it, immediately shoot it down, and dismiss me. She wouldn't even bother to tell me what was wrong with it, just saying, "Oh, Lux, that'll never work. Try again."

Before you get the wrong impression of Brittany, I want to clear things up. I respect her. Brittany had worked for Sir for 9 years, and assisted for a few, like me. She's the most lethal thing to ever hit the Underground. She's also the most obnoxious. That's coming from a girl whose nickname is short for luxury because she's addicted to material things. That's... Something. I put up with her anyway, even though she totally abuses the whole assistant thing. After my first year, whenever we got a job, she'd kick back and relax while I do the prep. When confronted about this, she simply said, "You need the practice." That’s a likely story. Still, even at 31, Brittany has all the experience of a... What did they call those old dudes who live on mountains and give people words of wisdom? Or is that just a Hollywood thing? Whatever- one of those.

Around 10:00, five hours after we had arrived, I was ready to throw in the towel. But, that payment kept me going: Half a million dollars. I'd plan for a year straight -no breaks- just to get my hands on that money. Of course, that's only dirt in Sir's eyes. Those New York Underground billionaires would spend a thousand dollars to buy their lunch. But I used to be homeless. I know the value of a dollar, and I'm desperate for 500,000 of them. The things I could buy! I kept pushing myself, formulating the best plan I could think of, crossing my fingers that it would get Brittany's pass. It was way too late to be thinking, much less - planning something illegal.

The End of Harold Band: Attempt 47

Summary: Our Intel has observed that Target 382 is under guard almost constantly, but there are a few moments where he separates from his security, although he is never completely alone. He annually eats dinner with just his girlfriend. This provides an ideal opening, as she poses no threat to the agents. Entrance to building shall prove to be most difficult. Home of Target 382 is under high security. Guards are on constant exterior and interior watch. Security systems are too advanced to breach without alerting. Exterior means of elimination are suggested by spies, due to the secure nature of the building.

Execution: Target's food is not checked for means of poison, making this the ideal way for elimination, providing no trace of agents. Agent A should cause means of distraction to Target's servants after daily grocery shopping, while Bird's Eye is provided by Agent B. Agent B shall look from neighboring apartment building, under cover that the agent is interested in purchasing the apartment across street, level to Target's. Agent A should then slip poison, and carefully exit under Agent B's guidance. Servant will not tell of encounter. After evaluation of profile, intelligence was gained that grocer servant is low on income and struggling to pay for college, and wouldn't risk a possible lawsuit for being part of boss's death. He won't be able to afford it, especially after his income is ceased by death of his employer.

Supplies: Army binoculars, Poison #73, and clear signal Bluetooth. Complexities lead to complex problems.

Timing: At approx. 9:45, servant arrives to the building from buying food for the next 24 hours. Target lunch food is possible. Agent A should be stationed at the ready. No time shall be wasted, and Agent should depart by 9:55 before suspicion is aroused.

Brittany finally pulled the paper away from her eyes. "Well," she said, "One major flaw."

Crap. "What is it?" I asked. I seriously don't want to make another plan tonight.

"I saw some of those reports. The grocery kid is about 20. He is trying to make his way through college, according to the spies. No way would he pay much attention to me."

"Oh I didn't mean to romance him, I meant means of confusion, or intimidating or-"

"A cute 18 year old like you? We just need to dress you up and you'll have that poor boy in a trance." Brittany smiled, probably at the shocked and confused look on my face. I was like that partly because I was surprised that my plan had passed and partly because... well, it's weird to be suggested as a decoy, especially for looks.

The big picture was that I was the lead role in this mission, not the assistant. "Are you serious? You're not kidding about putting me in the big role?" This was very un-Brittany like of her.

"Of course I'm not. Kind of wished that the plan would be more exciting, maybe a sniper rifle or two, but it's clean cut and safe. Most of all, it'll work. Be ready by 7 tomorrow, and make yourself pretty. You're off for the rest of the night. I'll meet you at your place and have the supplies all ready for you; you just focus on that face." Brittany waved her hand dismissively, and I left. I can imagine that I would be nerved, if I wasn't so stupidly tired. I exited the "Central Controls" hallway and blended into the night rush crowd. Nobody noticed.

I love New York.