Wright As Rain
A Last Wrights Short
By: Keldrick T. Mobley
Copyright 2013 Keldrick T. Mobley
See where it all started by reading Lions for a Day on Kindle!
Kionda “King” Ingrid flipped the lens cover off and took a look into the high-powered scope that sat on top of her CheyTac Intervention sniper rifle. A shot from this distance, and packing her own customized ammo would be difficult for even the most trained sniper, but not impossible. The problem was the rain. It was coming down at an angle she didn’t like and would need to adjust for. The lights of the unmoving traffic that was backed up on the I-95 could be seen from here for a good four to five miles in each direction. This was going good.
“You better hold this thing as still as possible, you understand? I got a nail appointment and I don’t need you messin’ with my schedule.” The man at the controls of the helicopter was petrified and tried his best to make sure that even in this weather that bird hovered with minimal movement. He considered trying to disarm King after they ascended above city traffic but when she pointed to a red dot on his chest coming from an unknown location and was told that failure to cooperate would result in his insides meeting air for the first time, he quickly obliged.
She retrieved her cell phone to take one last look at the man whose life she was about to end. She had been studying his movements for some time now and like all people, he was predictable. He’d be in position in the next ten minutes; he’d be dead in the next fifteen.
“Umm.. Miss?” The pilot had turned his head to see what she was doing and caught a glimpse of the picture.
King put the phone away in a small Gucci purse she was carrying then pulled her hair back into a ponytail.
“Yep.”
“Is that who I think it is? Are you really gonna kill him?”
“For fifty thousand dollars, I’m sure as hell not gonna graze him.” Her response was cool and almost sarcastic to the pilot. He had never met an assassin before but she was sure as heck not the kind he had in mind.
“Fifty g’s doesn’t sound like a lot. What are you like, some kinda bargain bin killer or something?”
King was almost insulted by this comment. She checked the time on her silver Datejust Lady 31 Rolex and saw that she had some time before her target was in place. She could oblige him with a short story.
“Let’s get something straight, okay?” She said resting the almost four foot long rifle across her lap as she sat back in her seat. The pilot shook his head in compliance. “Fifty thousand dollars doesn’t get you everything you see here. This traffic jam we’re flying over, who do you think caused that? The amount of surveillance I had to do on not only this jack off, but you as well…”
“Me? Why me?”
“I had to get your schedule down too Mr. Morgan. How else would I know which helicopter pilot to hi-jack? Why would I jack someone that didn’t have access to a news helicopter? That would blow this whole thing.”
“So you caused this traffic jam in order to get the news crews out here to film it….”
“...And we blend right on in. Now you’re getting it.”
“Okay, but still, I mean, you do know that if you kill him there is going to be some huge backlash. For fuck’s sake he’s the son of a senator!”
“I don’t care if he’s the Son of Sam, son of a gun, or a Sunday school teacher. I got a message to deliver and that’s what I’m gonna do.”
“So for the price of a new five series Beamer, I can hire you too?”
“No. This one is different. Normally a job like this would set someone back a few mil, but this one… this one is special.”
As the rain came down and the wind did its best to sway the helicopter, King paused, thinking back to the day when she took this job. The look on her clients face, the paper bag stuffed with a stack of twenty’s, fifty’s and hundreds all adding up to fifty thousand dollars. At first she was going to have Big Bobby toss the man out of the club until she saw a picture of his daughter. It was a photo taken at what must have been a school picture day. She was posed with her hands holding her head slightly tilted to the left. The girl was cute; nothing to write home about in the looks department, but the smile on her face was warm and genuine.
King had just come from off stage as Big Bobby was collecting her tips from the floor. As usual her performance had raked in well over five thousand dollars, money she would use to either buy some new shoes, or a new firearm, or donate to one of her favorite charities. She didn’t need it, but it helped keep up appearances. Before Big Bobby, (a man that got his name for all the obvious reason, one was him coming in at over six five and three hundred and ten pounds, and the second was his name being Bobby) could come in with her earnings King came across a man that had been waiting in her dressing room.
…..
“I…I have money…” The man opened the paper bag and started to pile it on to a nearby table. King and Big Bobby looked at each other than back at the man. He was a mess. From the looks of his pale white skin, to the five o’clock shadow he sported, it was evident that he hadn’t gotten any sleep in a while. His clothes suggested that he may have been homeless and the smell he was giving off didn’t help to dissuade that hypothesis.
King turned to put on some clothes, not worried that the man was seeing her naked. She could tell that he wasn’t interested in that from the way he kept looking around as if someone were about to spring out on him and yell ‘SURPRISE’. He had to be in his late forties, she guessed. She slipped into a red silk robe then sat in front of her mirror to take her makeup off.
“You can start by telling me how you found me.” She said, not looking at him but knowing he was looking at her.
“It…it wasn’t easy… it took me years just to get in the right circles.” he began “My name is Jon, Jon Betancourt.” He extended his hand for a shake, as he was trained to do upon introducing himself but stopped short when Big Bobby stood in front of King and shook his head ‘no’. “Sorry, uh…well, anyway when you get in the right places you hear things, things normal people don’t hear. I heard about you and I know you’re the best in the business so I…”
“That’s right, BUSINESS Mr. Betancourt, as in MONEY. If you’ve heard so much about me then you know I don’t do anything for any amount of money that can be pulled out of a paper bag.” She continued her ritual by brushing her hair then turned to face him. “I’m sorry but I don’t think we’ve got much to talk about. Bobby, will you please?” Big Bobby stood up to approach Mr. Betancourt.
“Wait, please it took me six years to save this! You have to help me!” He reached into his pocket causing Big Bobby to spring into action. He grabbed Jon’s arm and placed him in a hold with his face against the wall.
“Hold on B.” King walked over to the wall and reached into Jon’s jacket pocket. She pulled out a picture of a young girl.
“That’s my daughter, Jaime.” He spoke as well as he could with the large white man’s weight pressed against him. King studied the photo, making note of the resemblance. “Please Ma’am. My wife couldn’t handle the loss and killed herself just a few months after we lost Jamie. The man responsible for this is untouchable. He lives in a world where money can buy you anything, and his family has the power to make people vanish. First that sick bastard and his friends took turns raping her, then when they were finished…” he began to sob, the recollection was getting to him but King could tell it was important for him to convey this to her. She gave Bobby the signal to let him go. “Thank you, when they were finished, they drugged her and dumped her in an alley way like she was trash. MY LITTLE GIRL! THEY JUST TOSSED HER LIKE GARBAGE!”
“Well, Mr. Betancourt, if you know who it was why not call the police? Why me? The work that I do isn’t something to take light.”
“I know what you do Ms. King and I understand what I’m asking but this monster has to pay for what he’s done or he’ll just keep doing it. His families money makes them think they can’t be touched. I want to send them a message that they can!”
King looked into his eyes. In them she could see a small spark of fire that told her he was dead set on this.
“If you want this guy so dead, why not just do it yourself?”
“I can’t. I tried once but his people were all over me before I could get to him. Plus, to be honest, I don’t know where to find him. Can you do this for me, please?”
It was the most sincere request she’d ever gotten. King looked over to Big Bobby and then at the stack of cash on the table. Bobby shook his head ‘yes’ and that was all the confirmation she needed. She walked over to her mirror and touched the glass in a sensitive area. The mirror then displayed a small digital touch keypad on its surface, to which she pressed the correct sequence in order to activate the hidden wall to her left.
Once the wall rotated to a ninety degree angle, Jon could see a slew of automatic weapons, swords, knives, grenades, rocket launchers and hand to hand weapons, on
Wright As Rain: A Last Wrights Short Page 1