The Devoured
Page 18
The senator's temple was in the center of Jack's crosshairs. Individual hairs were distinguishable in his scope. This would be a clean shot, he knew. He inhaled deeply, getting ready to squeeze the trigger. Before he could exhale, Taylor Swift's voice filled the office, accompanied by horns and drums.
"WTF," Jack exclaimed in an angry whisper.
He let go of his rifle for a moment and reached into his pocket to silence the call. His face was red with embarrassment. Here he was, a world class gun for hire - a soldier since his parents were gunned down in his childhood - and he couldn't remember to shut off his cell phone before pulling an assassination.
"That's not my ringtone," muttered Tyrone. "What's with the pop shit?"
"It's because you're secretly in love with Miss Swift, just like everyone else in the world." There was anger in The Rhodesian's voice, both at himself for the cellphone thing, and at Wells for insulting Taylor's music.
"Truth," Tyrone replied. Damn straight, thought The Rhodesian.
Jack set his scope on the senator again. He was waiting beside the car as his driver opened the Lincoln's door for him and his date. Jack took another deep breath and the cell phone rang again. He muttered an impolite word but this time kept at the task at hand. He didn't want to lose his shot.
Behind him, Tyrone had given in to the pop-side and was mumbling about staying out too late and going on too many dates.
Jack took one more deep breath, ignoring his ringtone and the drug-slurred singing. The world around him vanished and all that existed was his gun and the senator. He exhaled and pulled the trigger. His scope saw nothing but red for a moment, as the senator made his transformation from man to meat.
Curious, Jack moved his scope to the lady friend. She was the image of the Hollywood scream queen - a young and beautiful creature screeching in wide-eyed terror, drenched in blood, gray mattered splattered across her face and dripping down her cleavage.
"Sweet dreams, Jackie-O."
The Rhodesian stood up, leaving his rifle by the window, and walked over to Tyrone, pulling two objects from his pocket. One was his cell phone, which had stopped ringing. The other was a handcuff key. He reached down, uncuffed Tyrone from a heavy desk, and placed the cuffs in his jacket pocket.
"You did it, T. You're a genuine revolutionary now. Just sit back and bask in the glory for a bit."
Jack didn't need to encourage his patsy to stay put. Wells had enough smack pumping through his system to keep him down for another several hours. There was no way he could beat feet before the cops showed up.
All in all, Jack felt the job went pretty well. The senator was dead, and the cops could easily pin it on Wells, which would make them look good. The lack of a real investigation would benefit himself and his client. And as for Wells, well, he'd get some real street cred. They might even put his face on a t-shirt, as they occasionally did with communist murderers.
It was a win for everyone. Except for the senator and his girly, perhaps.
Jack left the office building and stepped into the back alley, per his exit strategy. He looked at his phone and saw two missed calls from his agent. A moment later it rang again.
Jack slid his thumb across the touchscreen, answering the call.
"Seriously, you better be on fire, Holly," Jack said instead of hello.
He walked as Holly spoke on the other end of the line. She rambled on for a minute straight, overexcited about some job, but Jack couldn't quite understand her quick, stumbling jabber. What she ended with, though, made Jack stop dead in his tracks.
"Wait! He's offering how much?"
Jack began walking again as Holly spoke, remembering that he needed to put some distance between himself and the political assassin, Tyrone Wells.
"Ten million dollars? To track down a couple of knives? Is he out of his mind?”
‘
Other Works by Curtis M. Lawson
Mastema (Original Graphic Novel)
Sins Of The Mother: Mastema was once a holy knight before his soul was tainted by the essence of the demon Fenris. Mastema's painful origin resurfaces to haunt both him and the witch who destroyed his life. As the demon Fenris hunts him down, Mastema is forced to align himself with his most hated enemy, Luedke, in order to survive. Meanwhile, a mysterious holy assassin is taking the offensive against Fenris. Will his faith pit him against Mastema and Luedke as well?
A Devil's Mercy: Something unspeakable has happened at the temple to the God of Mercy. Unable to fix the situation from within, the clergy call upon the services of the infernal mercenary, Mastema. What terrible circumstances would force the hands of the holy to employ a half-demon warrior? The horrible truth of what happened is enough to turn even Mastema's stomach.
https://www.comixology.com/Mastema/digital-comic/181066