The hit list
Posted by Barbanne on September 03, 2002 at 00:31:17:
THE HIT LIST
I picked out a tiny black cocktail dress, got a ticket from the salesgirl for one item and carried it into the change rooms. From the corner of my eye I looked over to where Mandy was carrying an armful of stuff in to try on.
I hung the dress on the hook.
Considering this was maybe the most expensive boutique womens' dress shoppe in town it was crappy of them to have no false ceilings in the change rooms but it suited me perfectly. It was why I had selected this place for the hit.
I stood on the change room seat and grabbed the lowest part of the roof truss above and swung myself up onto the cross beams.
I crossed wraithlike until I was above the change room where Mandy was. She had stripped to a bra and a tiny pair of panties and was looking through the clothes she had bought with her. Tall, she was thirty centimetres taller than me, whip thin and very pretty, she was all arms and legs and as I looked down I saw her long skinny body foreshortened below me.
I dropped into the cubicle.
There could be no noise and so as I dropped I wrapped myself around Mandy, my arms encircling her and my hand clamping over her mouth. She was so shocked by my sudden appearance that for an instant she did nothing, paralysed into making no resistance. I had the needle sharp spike in my hand and I stabbed it into the soft flesh below her jaw under her ear and drove it upward. The stainless steel slid upward into her lobes and she half turned to look at me. Her eyes registered remembrance, shock and then blankness all within a split second and then her pupils rolled back and away and she went heavy in my arms and her long legs scissored and her arms buckled and I sat her burbling blooping body onto the little seat. She folded into a pathetic heap and I noted with satisfaction that there was almost no blood at all.
I scrambled back into the roof space and crossed back to my own cubicle. As I moved above a half naked matron she heard nothing. My Chechen masters had taught me well. I dropped into my change space and collected the dress and walked out and took it to the sales counter to buy.
The senator's car was still outside and Mandy's mother was looking impatient. The security guys stood just inside the shop. I started making my purchase, producing the credit card and chatting to the girl while she ran it through the terminal.
Mandy's mother was quite agitated and she and the woman who owned the place were conferring together. The woman went back into the change rooms and I saw her knocking on the cubicle door. I signed my slip, picked up my parcelled dress and started walking out. I heard screaming and then Mandy's mother and the shop woman were carrying on something else. The security guys ran inside. A quick glance showed me Mandy crumpled inside the cubicle in a tangle of underwear, arms and legs. The other patrons of the shop were crowding around the change rooms and I turned as though attracted by the commotion, but no-one was looking at me.
I slipped out of the door and away.
For a woman approaching forty Kaylene looked pretty amazing.
She had a full lushness about her body which was spectacularly displayed in a small but not tiny bikini and although we other women noticed the tell tale creases and folds around her underarms and groin and the slight softening of her upper arms and thighs I had to admit that she was still a very beautiful, mature woman.
I approached her with a towel in my arms my own slight and unamazing body clad in a really small bikini that only emphasised my imperfections. I smiled a toothsome smile and stumbled against her.
"Ouch," she said.
"Sorry," I fluttered my hands.
"You stuck me," she complained rubbing her forearm.
I peered at my towel.
"Oh damn there's a loose safety pin here. Oh I'm sorry, really sorry. Can I do anything."
"No," she smiled at me, "it's nothing really."
"Please I'll get something....someone."
"Don't bother dear it's nothing."
I looked horridly downcast.
"Truly it doesn't matter."
I sidled off looking wretched.
Kaylene walked around to the diving tower. She loved diving and she was fabulously good having been the US under something age champion once upon a time. I watched as she climbed to the top platform. I sort of blended with the nobodies way back on the loungers.
Kaylene stood on tip toe and thrust out her chest and tucked her bum and then launched herself into a graceful swan dive. Because I was watching closely I saw her lose co-ordination and wobble just before she hit the water. I doubt if anyone else did. She created a splash and would have been disgusted with her entry, definitely marked down to a five.
She didn't come up.
I sat and waited.
Two teenage girls jumped into the pool near the diving tower and then one came up screaming. Her friend flapped her arms and a lifeguard came running. Everybody crowded forward looking into the pool. I stood on tippy toe at the back saying, "What's happening?" Another lifeguard had arrived and he took Kaylene's arms while his friend pushed her from within the pool. I saw her rolled back eyeballs and the thin stream of whitish froth leaking from her nose and mouth.
Kaylene, I knew, was very dead.
Karl was a real super stud.
Nineteen, built like Adonis and super fit, he ran every day from his home in seventh street around the park and then beside the lake before cutting back through the freeway embankment. I had been watching him for two weeks and had come to really look forward to it. He ran in tight shorts and would often toss off his tee shirt by the time he turned down onto the embankment and I would be treated to the sight of a gleaming, perspiration covered, bronzed male body, arms and legs pumping and gold chain flying and a blonde haired face that I would have given anything to have kiss me. I loved watching his muscular legs pushing his rippling abdomen and flat powerful pecs straight toward where I lay in hiding.
Those tight shorts showed off his beautiful buttocks and the hugely satisfying bulge in front told me that here was a young fellow who could have really pinned me to a bed.
I waited this day.
As Karl jogged into sight I saw that gorgeous body glistening with sweat and my pussy stirred and I felt tingly flushes down my neck and arms and my nipples tightened and tingled inside my loose top.
I centred his face in the telescopic sight, the cross hairs on his left temple.
He was moving fast.
It was nigh impossible. I took a deep breath and held it and lined the cross hairs exactly and slowly squeezed the trigger.
I saw the puff of blood and then he disappeared from my sights.
I laid the rifle aside.
Karl's gloriously near nude body was tumbling down the embankment.
He rolled onto the road surface and came to rest splayed out like a starfish.
Cars braked and horns shrieked and I collected my spent shell casing and my rifle and slipped over the edge of the grassed verge and made for my car.
The Chechens called me in.
Hanif Mahmud himself showed me the picture of Rebecca.
Gorgeous, dark haired, slightly built and exotically beautiful, she was a hit woman for hire. Jewish, born in the States but moved to Israel as a child and Mossad trained.
I studied her file and her pictures.
She was my kind of woman.
She was also very, very good.
I found Rebecca in a downtown bar. She was alone, nursing a drink and I sat a little away from her and ordered a mineral water. I sipped it and then turned to her.
"Hi! You on your own?"
She nodded and I slid my stool along and we got chatting. I could see she was looking at me the way I should have been looking at her. Summing me up, assessing me, working out what made me tick. I came across as just another woman who wanted her company. It was easy because I was realising that I did want her company. I liked her. I was attracted to her.
She made me hot.
We parted company with a vague promise to get in touch.
Three days later she did.
We arranged a night out together. I was watching the papers and a couple of unsolved killings in town made me think that maybe Rebecca was working. I had nothing on my plate at the moment my main project being Rebecca.
We went out and found that we hit it off great. I loved her sense of humour (black like my own) and we had lots in common including disastrous love lives. Our professional lives were never even hinted at.
We made a further date and this time she asked me to her flat for a home cooked meal.
I arrived early and watched her at work in the kitchen. She was a confident and inventive cook and I took real pleasure in helping her with the meal.
When it was over and we had cleaned up she got a scotch (she drank a lot of scotch) and joined me on the lounge in front of re-runs of Sex in the City. We laughed at the antics of the cast members and she said, "You don't drink B?"
"Sure I'm drinking now."
"Not likker though babe?"
"Not likker Bec, never likker."
Her hand trailed across my bare shoulders and then she was pulling me to her and turning me and our lips brushed each other's and then we were into a full clinch and my mouth was locked onto hers as her hands crawled into my dress and found my breasts beneath my bra and my nipples hard and excited and she moaned and whispered my name and then we were undressing each other and we walked arm in arm to the bedroom and slid into the sheets and started to grope and grunt vigorously.
Neither of us had a cock but that was no drawback. I used my tongue and my hands and played Rebecca like a violin.
We cuddled and stroked and played and brought each other to climax after climax until finally we lay exhausted and lathered in sweat in the damp sheets.
Rebecca stroked my hair.
"I love you B."
"I am falling in love with you too Bec, or is it maybe lust?"
She laughed and we snuggled down to a lovely night's sleep. Better sleep than I had known in years.
In the morning we fooled around some more before bathing together and going our own ways.
Rebecca and I became lovers and sex partners and I knew I could never do anything to harm her.
Hanif asked me when I was going to do the job.
I told him soon.
That night in Rebecca's arms I asked her to come away with me. Forget our pasts and become girl and wife. She was quiet for a long time and then she said in a really quiet whisper. "OK B. You've done something for me that I had thought gone forever. Come for me tomorrow evening and I'll be ready. And B........,"
"There's something I'm going to have to tell you, something about me."
"It's over B, over."
I had a job. One last job and then I was out of all this. I would tell Rebecca everything. I knew she would understand. We could go away, far, far away from this evil city. A new start, new people, like others.
I waited patiently where I had concealed myself on the airport roof. I had my escape route planned to perfection. Once inside the plant room behind me there was no way I could be found before I joined the crowds in the departure lounges. The rifle was anonymous and would stay here. Gloves ensured no prints were ever going to be recovered.
The woman was waking out to the plane. She wore a nice linen suit and a ruffled white shirt. As befitted a leading lawyer lady. She was a very attractive late thirties, redhead, unmarried and with no children. Career driven and a double crosser.
She turned to wave goodbye to someone and her hair fluffed in the wind. Her blue eyes sparkled.
The bullet hit her in the chest rupturing her heart and she was dead as she fell backward across the luggage trolley. She hung there for an instant her shirt and suit flooded with her blood and then she slowly slid downward onto the tarmac apron.
I got up and made my way into the plant room and down to the concourse below, quickly but not hastily.
By the time the sirens arrived I was hailing a cab and on my way to my darling.
I walked up to Rebecca's door.
It was ajar.
I knocked and called out, "Rebecca," I said, "Rebecca, its me."
The lights were on and I wondered briefly what was going on. My training said danger but my love mde me incautious. I pushed the door open and stepped inside. I sensed someone behind me and then something crashed into the back of my head and blackness swept up and over me.
When I came awake I was lying on Rebecca's floor and she was sitting at the dining table where we had often sat together.
She was nude and her backside spread across the chair seat and she was slumped forward over the table. Her arms hung down either side and her breasts were crushed against the table. Her face was turned toward me and her lovely dark brown eyes were open and unfocussed and her lips were parted and her tongue bulged out obscenely. Her face was blue, very blue around the lips and her hair tumbled forward over the table top. The wire had been pulled so tight around her throat that it had cut into her flesh.
Hanif looked at me from eyes like lasers.
"Yeah the Jew bitch is dead," he said.
He walked over to where I was sitting up and dragged me upright. He hauled me over by my hair and shoved my face down so that it was only centimetres from Rebecca's dead eyes.
"Take a good look B! I'm very disappointed in you B! I had to kill this fucking bitch myself B!," he paused breathing heavily. "What's wrong with you? I send you to kill this cunt and you end up in bed with her. With another woman, what are you?, a fucking lezzo that's what."
I whimpered and he threw me back.
"Get outta here B. get out. Me and the boys got some tidying up to do. Go B, go and keep going but just remember you are a dead woman walking B!"
The inter city bus rushes through the night, an island of light in the black abyss.
I gaze from the window at moonlit nothingness.
When it slows down and pulls over I know this is it.
A hiss of air brakes and the bus stops, idling noisily in the middle of nowhere. The door swings open and three men climb on. Hard men, ruthless, merciless men. I can see the driver's face is ghostly white. I look at the others, men, women, kids, ordinary people, normal people and I know what I must do.
I get up and walk to the front.
I can see the gun in the man's hand and the fear in the driver's face. I sense the bewilderment of the other passengers.
I say, "It's me you want."
We four alight and the door hisses shut and the bus speeds away, its retreating glow disappearing into the darkness like the fading of hope.
They walk me into the forest into a deeply shaded glen. The man with the gun makes me undress and put my clothes and my jewellery in a plastic bag. When I am nude and unadorned he turns me to face him. It is cold and it is dark and I am sorry and I am frightened but not for much longer. In the weak moonlight I see the blued cylinder of the silencer and I feel the ring of steel like ice burning against my temple.
If I knew the words I would pray..............................................