A Necessary Kill

by James P. Sumner

  She shakes her head and shrugs casually. “Please… I have no loyalty to either of you. But you’re paying me a lot of zeroes to have your back, and he’s not. There’s my loyalty, okay?”

  “Fair enough.” I reach behind me, take out the gun I stole from the cop, and hand it to Ruby, which she takes without question. “Right, I’m going in.”

  18:21 EDT

  I nod courteously to the doorman as I pass him and walk into the bar. The interior is artificially lit, but it’s bright and looks pleasant enough. It has a blue and green theme throughout, with neon highlights decorating the bar area. Tall bar stools are positioned around columns to the right as I enter.

  There’s a small step down, and then the place opens up, expanding back with chairs surrounding tables down the middle and left side. The right is taken up by the bar, with the restrooms just beyond that.

  The bar is half-full. Probably a bit early for the evening crowds to descend. I scan the room and see a mixture of people enjoying their drinks—a group of young women off to the left, some couples on the right, a large party in the middle laughing together… and one man sitting alone with his back to me, wearing a suit I can tell from here is worth a small fortune. Tailored with a shine, light gray in color.

  There he is.

  I take a breath and walk over, fighting to retain what little diplomacy I have left. I don’t like it, but I need him on my side in this, so I have to play this delicately.

  I draw level with him, stopping and pointing to the seat opposite. “Join you?”

  He looks up and smiles. “But of course.” His voice sounds slimy and fake, and his accent has a hint of French mixed in with it. “It is good to see you, Adrian.”

  I smile humorlessly as I sit down. “I bet.”

  “Please… There is no need for any hostilities between colleagues. Can I get you a drink?”

  I hold my hand up. “I’m good, thanks.”

  He nods. “Of course. Straight to business, then?”

  I regard him for a moment. He’s a good looking guy, no denying that. Clean shaven with chiseled, boyish features. Thick, dark, styled hair, and… has he had a manicure? Christ!

  In addition to his fancy suit, he’s wearing a black silk shirt with the top two buttons open. Resting on the table in front of him is a set of keys. There’s a keychain on it with the Ferrari logo.

  He sees me looking and smiles. “It’s in the parking lot out back. The 488 Spider in British racing green. A beautiful machine. Zero to sixty in a fraction under three seconds. Six-sixty under the hood. It sounds like… like a tiger riding a bat out of hell.” He laughs to himself.

  Prick.

  I don’t care about your car, you fucking arrogant douche!

  I clench my jaw muscles.

  Relax, Adrian. You need to stay calm.

  I sigh and offer a weak smile. “You should be a car salesman.”

  He laughs again, clapping his hands together. “There’s that famous sarcasm of yours. Tell me, how is your British friend doing these days? John, isn’t it?”

  “Josh. And he’s fine. Bit busy at the moment, though.”

  He nods. “So what brings you to my city?”

  “Your city? Okay… I’m here to offer you some work.”

  “I already have plenty of work, thank you.”

  “Mine will pay better, trust me.”

  He shrugs. “I don’t know… I am paid very well.”

  “Not this well.”

  He strokes his chin for a moment in silence. “How much are we talking?”

  I frown. “Aren’t you interested in what the job is first?”

  He shakes his head. “I am interested in what the job is worth to me. For the right price, I will kill anyone. I do not care who.”

  “Okay. Twenty million.”

  A slight look of surprise reaches his eyes, betraying his otherwise calm and collected demeanor. “Dollars?”

  “Yup.”

  “That is an impressive payout. And this is just my share?”

  I nod. “Everyone on the team gets the same twenty million, yeah.”

  “And who do you have on this… team? Besides my darling Ruby, obviously.”

  I roll my eyes. “So far, just her and a guy from New Hampshire called Jonas Briggs. Got one more stop to make after we’ve finished here, and then I can start planning the details. Are you interested enough to sign up?”

  He absently strokes his eyebrow with his middle finger, staring blankly at the table in front of us for a moment.

  “For you to be prepared to part with eighty million dollars in total, this hit must be big—high profile… near impossible. Am I right?”

  I shrug, giving nothing away.

  “I am surprised there is a job in existence that would be deemed too much for the legendary Adrian Hell to handle on his own. I admit, I’m intrigued…”

  Oh my God, what an ass-hat!

  I lean forward, rest my forearms on the table, and lower my voice. There’s no music playing in here, and I don’t want anyone to overhear our conversation.

  “I’m going to kill the person responsible for the 4/17 attacks.”

  He matches my body language and strokes his eyebrow again. “Now, this I do not understand… Did the president himself not announce almost two weeks ago that the person behind the attacks was in custody?”

  I nod. “He did. But he’s lying.”

  “And why would the president lie?”

  I hold his gaze so he can see the truth in my eyes as I speak. “Because the president is the one responsible.”

  He stares at me for a moment, and then sits back quickly in his chair clapping his hands slowly and laughing. “You are very good, Adrian. Very good! You almost had me convinced. But there is no way anyone would make a serious attempt on his life. And there is no way anyone would believe your, frankly, outlandish claims regarding the largest terrorist attack this world has ever seen.”

  I shrug and lean back myself, adjust my position in the chair, and get comfortable. I can see this conversation going on awhile.

  “I have proof.”

  He stops laughing and raises a curious eyebrow. “Proof?”

  I nod. “Aside from the fact I was there, in the room, when the big red button was pressed, I have information—documents that prove the president was behind it all. I could go into the finer points of it all with you, but if I’m honest, there’s no need. It won’t change the fact that he needs taking out. That’s the job, Fernando… Are you in or out?”

  He’s quiet for a few moments. “And you’re offering me twenty million to help you?”

  I nod. “If we succeed, the money’s yours.”

  “And if we don’t?”

  I shrug again. “Then we’ll probably be dead, so the money’s irrelevant.”

  He smiles humorlessly. “While you say I should be a salesman, Adrian, I fear that is not a skill set we share.”

  “To be honest, I’m growing tired of making my sales pitch. Call me old-fashioned, but this situation, to me, is the ultimate example of simply doing what’s right. And with everything that’s at stake, I like to think of it as a no-brainer.”

  “If that’s true, why such a lucrative payday?”

  “Because the right thing to do is rarely the easiest… or the smartest, in my experience. People like us… sometimes we need a bit more convincing.”

  “True. And what’s in it for you? You’re not getting paid for it…”

  “No, I’m not. I tried to leave this life behind, and that bit me on the ass. But I’m not here for the money. I’m here because it’s right. Because it’s necessary. And I’m the only one who knows the truth. So I view it as my responsibility to do what other people can’t.” I check my watch. Ten minutes. Ruby should be here in another five. I need to wrap this up—I don’t want her coming in here and these two having a thing. “So, what’ll it be?”

  More silence and chin stroking, which I’m sensing is more for show than anything. H
e knows what he’s going to do.

  “I’m afraid I must decline you’re… generous offer.”

  I frown, genuinely surprised. “Really? Even after everything I’ve told you… even knowing what’s at stake?”

  He nods and smiles. “Yes. I will be honest with you. I’m already working a contract in addition to my exclusive work in the city…”

  To quote any Star Wars movie, ‘I’ve got a bad feeling about this…’

  “… I appreciate you taking time out of your busy life to explain your job offer to me, but I’m afraid it was very much wasted breath.”

  My gut is knotting up with frustration and adrenaline as my spider sense goes off the scale. I tense every muscle in my body, counting down in my head how long I have until Ruby comes in here with a gun.

  I grit my teeth. “Well… if you’re not interested, you’re not interested. I’ll just be on my way.”

  The European leans forward again, holding a hand up. “I’m… heh… I’m afraid you can’t do that, Adrian. Sorry.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

  “You know, it’s ironic, really. All the people in this world who want you dead yet you’re still your own worst enemy.”

  I sigh. “I’m really starting to dislike you.”

  I’m starting to worry, too, but I keep that hidden. I don’t have time for concern right now. I suspect I’m about to have a very bad day.

  “Yesterday, I was approached by someone with a job offer. An offer even more lucrative than yours. They wanted me to take out five targets. Discretion wasn’t necessary but success was. And, get this… they offered me seven-point-five million per target. Per target, Adrian! That’s thirty-seven-and-a-half million dollars total!”

  I fight to keep any trace of concern from my face. “That’s good work if you can get it. Congratulations on the contract.”

  “Thank you.”

  “And how’s it going for you?”

  He shrugs. “Honestly? Easier than I thought. I’ve taken two of them out so far.”

  “Well, don’t let me keep you…”

  He smiles. “You’re not.” He reaches inside his suit jacket and takes out a cell phone. He taps the screen, swipes to the right a couple of times, and places the device on the table, spinning it around to show me. “Here’s my first target.”

  I look at the screen.

  Fuck.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck!

  It’s Ashton Case. He’s lying on the floor with a hole in his head and a pool of blood surrounding him.

  I consciously think about how I should react. I’m surprised, but… not that surprised. Yes, it’s a shock to see Ash dead. And I feel responsible, because I dragged him into this. But at the same time, I knew from the moment we pulled up outside something wasn’t right here. I knew it. And I hate when I’m right about shit like this and don’t listen to myself.

  Fuck.

  I stare into The European’s stone-gray eyes. I make a mental note of the time, the date, the weather outside, the color of the barman’s tie—every single detail about this exact moment. Because it’s the moment when I decided this sonofabitch is going to die, and I want to remember everything about it for when the time comes.

  He smiles at me and swipes the screen. “And here’s my second.”

  He’s not trying to hide how much he’s enjoying this. Piece of shit.

  I stare at the screen again, but this time I frown. “Who’s that?”

  He pauses for a moment, confused, but then acts like he’s just realized something. “Ah, you must not know this person. He was the last name on the list Mr. Case gave you.”

  Oh.

  I shrug, trying to remain calm while I think of all the ways I’m going to hurt him before I let him die. “Well, I appreciate you showing me. Saves me a trip.”

  “Ha! So arrogant…”

  “Thanks.”

  “You won’t talk your way out of this, Adrian. Once I’ve disposed of you and my dear, sweet Ruby—who I assume is waiting outside?—I’ll be heading to finish off Mr. Briggs before collecting my paycheck. Would you care to tell me where he is? It’ll make things much simpler.”

  I need to stall him. Either till Ruby gets here or till I’ve thought of a way to deal with this without endangering the people in here. I’m not armed, but I don’t want to get into it with him right now because after everything that’s transpired, I have no doubt in my mind that he is.

  I hold his gaze and try to sound as casual as I can. “Sure. He’ll be in the bar of Caesar’s in Atlantic City two days from now.”

  He’s momentarily taken aback but quickly recovers. “Thank you, that’s most… considerate of you.”

  I shrug. “Hey, I’m a nice guy, what can I say. So tell me… who offered you the contract?”

  He smiles. “You have a lot of enemies, Adrian.”

  “Yeah, I know. But I doubt many of them would condone hiring a contract killer to come after me.”

  He smirks and it makes me want to hit him. You know how there are certain people walking this earth that have a face you just have to punch as soon as you see it? Well, this guy’s one of them.

  “Do you honestly believe that?” he asks. “After everything you’ve just told me?”

  I raise an eyebrow again to stop my eyes going wide and giving away the fact I’m on the back foot here. I quickly work it out in my head… The CIA caught up with me in Maine as I was leaving Ash’s restaurant. They must’ve contacted the mothership before I took them out, and word would’ve gotten to someone in a position of power about what I was doing very quickly. They somehow got a copy of Ash’s list and made contact with the one name on it with any serious reputation, offering him an obscene amount of money to take me and everyone else out.

  I look into his eyes again. He’s nodding at me. “That’s it, Adrian. Put the pieces together…”

  I sigh. “The president?”

  He shakes his head.

  I frown. “General Matthews?”

  He smiles. “You’re smarter than you look, Adrian.”

  “Yeah, I hear that a lot.”

  “Now, as pleasant as this has been, I should go. I imagine Ruby will be coming in any moment, correct?”

  I say nothing.

  “Of course she is. You’ll have a backup plan in place. I should go and say hi.” He stands and I immediately move to follow, but he quickly steps around the table and places one hand on my shoulder while the other opens his jacket, revealing a silenced handgun.

  I knew he would have a gun. Does honor mean anything anymore?

  “I wouldn’t do that, if I were you.”

  “Why? You gonna shoot me?”

  He smiles again. “Not at all. You don’t simply shoot a living legend such as yourself. That is not a fitting end for someone of your professional standing. No, for you, I have something far more… grandiose planned.”

  “Gee, you shouldn’t have…”

  He pats my shoulder. “It’s no trouble. Underneath your seat is a bomb. It’s a device of my own design containing a brick of C4 and a pressure-activated dead man’s switch, which you engaged when you sat down. It’s quite simple, really. You stand up, the bomb goes off. You’ll take this entire building out along with you.” He condescendingly pats my cheek with his palm a couple of times. “I believe some CIA people are on their way to disarm the bomb and collect you. Sit tight until then, okay?”

  He backs away, fastening his jacket again and waving.

  Oh my God…

  There’s so much anger coursing through me right now it actually hurts. Every fiber of my being is screaming at me to run over to him, shove my hand down his throat and pull his lungs out through his mouth.

  But I can’t.

  I tentatively feel beneath my chair with my hands.

  I pat it gently, feeling for a—

  Yup… That’s a big fucking bomb!

  Shit.

  I fix him with the coldest stare I’ve ever given anyone. “I’m
going to kill you, understand? I’m going to kill you, and it’s really going to hurt.”

  He nods. “Okay, Adrian. Good luck with that.”

  He turns and waves behind him, strolling out of the bar without another word.

  “Fuck,” I mutter.

  I look around at all the people in here, blissfully unaware that my ass is the only thing stopping them from becoming a hole in the ground.

  I look outside through the small window in the door. I can just about see the hood of our 4×4. No sign of Ruby. I hope she’s—

  Holy shit!

  A deafening explosion fills the air, shattering the glass in the door and rocking the foundations of the building. Everyone screams, jumping to their feet and running around in circles in sheer panic.

  I stay planted to my chair, fighting the urge to run outside in search of Ruby.

  Smoke billows across the street from what I assume are the remains of my ride. The sound of sirens fades into earshot over the crackling of the flames.

  Now what do I do?

  13

  18:41 EDT

  Man, I wish Josh was here… stuck in a chair with a bomb strapped to his ass instead of me. I mean, seriously—what the hell am I supposed to do now? I can’t stand up, and I can’t exactly sit here doing nothing…

  I’m pissed at how easily The European screwed me, too. I should have listened to my gut. This would never have happened a couple of years ago. Maybe I’m getting sloppy. Or worse still, old.

  I let out a low growl of frustration.

  I need to get my head in the fucking game, because if I carry on the way I have been, I’m going to end up dead.

  Shit!

  Right… Focus, Adrian.

  I take a deep breath. And another.

  Okay… I’ve no reason to doubt that slimy little bastard when he said the CIA are coming for me, so I need to figure a way out of here before they arrive, otherwise it’s game over.

  I look around the bar. It’s emptying quickly, but there are still some people seemingly too scared to move. Makes sense, I guess. The explosion was outside, so I’m guessing their instinct is to stay indoors.