Taking Down Brooklyn

by Kelly Moore

  His facial expression changes suddenly. “Can’t or won’t? You’ve never turned down a job before.”

  “This isn’t some fucking drug lord I’m going after here. It isn’t someone who laundered company money. This isn’t some escaped convict. This is the president’s own innocent daughter! Hence the word innocent, Miles!” I slam my hands down on the table.

  I stand to leave, but he pushes against my chest. “You’ve already been partially compensated. I can make that million, five million. They are serious about wanting her dead.”

  “Then take it back. I have enough blood on my hands. Find someone else.” I shove past him.

  Once my hand is on the door, he stops me. “Don’t make me remind you about what will happen to your brother. Not to mention the fact that I could arrange for him to receive the vaccine when the job is done.”

  I stop dead in my tracks as anger surges through me. I spin around and lock eyes on him. “How dare you use him against me again.”

  He holds his hands in the air, palms facing me. “It’s not up to me, and you know it. The decision as to what happens to him is in your hands. If you refuse a job, you know what will happen. I’m only looking out for you here.”

  “Give me the file.” He tries to hide his grin as he brings me the file, but he fails.

  “Let me know when the job is done.”

  I head for the door.

  “And, John.”

  I turn around and look at him.

  “The sooner, the better.”

  I leave his office in a rush. I can’t fucking believe this. I have to kill the president’s daughter. The woman that has been teasing my mind all day long.

  When I get home, I sit at my desk with the file open before me.

  There’s her beautiful face, taunting me.

  In the file is her address, which is not where I pictured her to live. The area is not in an upper-class section, far from it. She graduated top of her class from the University of Chicago, and she interned under a prestigious medical scientist. She moved up the ladder pretty quickly and became part owner of Medical Solutions. Her research skills with the company brought them to the forefront of the industry. Damn. Gorgeous, sexy, and brilliant. Deadly combination. Sad to think that all her hard work landed her with a sizable hit on her head.

  “Shit!” I throw the file on the floor, scattering the papers. I’ve never targeted an innocent person before, much less a woman. I can’t do this. I can’t kill an innocent person. It’s one thing to take out someone that is lower than dirt, but someone whose entire life has been built around saving people is not something I choose to be part of. My life sucks enough. I don’t want to be the man that kills the president’s only daughter.

  I know it’s early, but I pour myself a drink. Pacing the floor, I pick up the phone and call Miles. “I won’t do it. Take your blood money back.”

  “So, you don’t care if your twin brother, Jake, spends the rest of his life rotting in a four by four cell in a maximum security prison? I guess his life won’t last long anyway if he doesn’t get the treatments he needs. I do have the power to continue his treatments in prison so he can suffer longer.”

  He has the fucking nerve to laugh. “If you lay one hand on my brother, I will hunt you down, and it won’t be a pleasant death,” I seethe into the phone.

  “Your threats mean nothing to me. You would have to take down our entire organization, and you are just one man. Do your job, John, or pay the consequences.”

  “Grow some fucking balls and come after me. Leave my brother out of this.” I slam down the phone and throw back my drink, longing for the burn. My brother has never done anything wrong in his life. I’m the fuck-up in the family. We aren’t identical twins but damn near. When I took on this job, I was naïve to some extent. I tried to leave the company years ago. I actually turned in my resignation, and they accepted it, so I thought.

  I received an envelope under my door the next day of pictures of Jake with a note attached. It said that if I left the company, they would turn Jake in as me, for the crimes I had committed. I couldn’t let him pay for my crimes, so I tucked my tail and went back to work for them.

  Later that year, Jake was diagnosed with cancer. He had to quit his job and couldn’t afford the highly expensive drugs he needed to save his life. Every time I do a job, I do it for him. That’s not exactly true. I like taking out the bad guys like I’m some damn modern-day hero.

  I pour myself another bourbon. I’ve got to find a way out of this hit and keep my brother safe. Spinning around, I throw the glass of bourbon at the wall. The glass shatters and brown streaks of liquid run down the freshly painted wall. I pick up my jacket, phone, and my rifle bag, knowing there is no time to waste. If I don’t do this job, they will send someone else. I dial my brother, while the elevator takes me to the ground floor.

  “Jake, remember the place I told you to go if things went bad?”

  “Yes,” he answers.

  “Well, things are worse than that. Get your things and leave. Get rid of your phone and pick up a burner phone when you arrive. Text me so I have the new number. All the cash you need is already hidden there. Once I know you’re there and safe, I will tell you where you can find it.”

  I straddle my bike and plug Brooklyn’s address into my phone. The tires screech as I take off. I weave in and out of traffic on I-90 until I make it to my exit. I park my bike across the street from her red brick apartment building. There is a diner directly across from her building called The Greasy Spoon. I plant myself in one of the booths and a middle-aged lady with purple hair waits on me.

  “What will you have, sir?” she asks, never looking at me.

  “Coffee, and lots of it. And, can I borrow a pen?”

  She rolls her eyes as she digs one out of her pocket. I pick up a handful of napkins and start drawing my surroundings.

  “Here is your coffee, sir.” I never look up; I frantically draw each building. When I’m all done, I lay them out like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle and study them. Where would be my best advantage point to take her out? I click the pen on the table several times, trying to think. Here, this would be it. I place an X on the perfect spot to lay low and take Brooklyn out and never be caught.

  I sit for hours drinking my coffee and watching people walk by the diner window. Most people are on their cell phones, without a clue as to what is going on around them. A homeless man has taken up space outside the diner. People make sure to walk on the outside of the sidewalk to steer clear of him. None offering him help.

  A black Jeep with darkly tinted windows pulls up outside Brooklyn’s apartment complex. Whoever is inside doesn’t get out right away. The window cracks and a cigarette is thrown out. I watch and wait. I’m good at this game. A few minutes later, a guy in black clothing and sunglasses steps out. He opens the back door and throws a bag over his shoulder.

  Amateur, parking in front of her building. Must be some new guy that wants to make a name for himself. I pay my tab, and as I leave, I throw a handful of cash in the homeless man’s jar. I follow far enough behind the man dressed in black so that he doesn’t notice me. I’m good at blending in, part of the reason as to why I have never been caught.

  He walks around the block, looking up. He really has no idea what he’s doing. You never leave home without a plan. He finally stops and stands in front of an old rundown hotel. His hands go in his pocket, and he pulls out a phone. I guess he’s calling his daddy to make sure this will work for him. I snicker to myself. He enters the building, I’m sure, headed to the rooftop.

  I backtrack and go to where X marked the spot. I set up on the rooftop with my rifle aimed in his direction. I’ve already decided I’m not letting him take Brooklyn out. I watch “Training Wheels” through my scope as he sets up his equipment. His rifle looks like it’s never been used before. I turn and look away from him when I hear a motorcycle coming down the road. I move over to the edge to get a better look. It parks behind the black Jeep.
I can tell by the movements it’s a woman, but not just any woman. Brooklyn pulls off her helmet, and her red hair falls down to the middle of her back. Damn woman drives a Ducati. I only thought she was sexy as hell before. Now I’m fucking turned on by the fact that she rides a bike, and not just any bike, a blackout Ducati. She has money. Why does she choose to live in this shithole? She looks over her shoulder, almost as if she has sensed someone watching her. Good girl, aware of your surroundings, unlike Training Wheels on the rooftop, clueless that she has arrived home. I watch her sway her ass in her leather chaps until she disappears into her building.

  Training Wheels finally has all his gear in place. I could have taken him out earlier, but I was enjoying watching his stupidity. I know, I’m a sick bastard. I feel sorry for the guy, and instead of killing him, I decide on shooting him in the knee, but that will mean I have to jump rooftops to get to him. I pick up my gear, tuck my rifle back in its bag and place a pistol with a silencer in the back of my pants. I take off running and land hard on the first rooftop, but never lose my footing. I stay low, waiting to see if he spotted me. I give it a minute and then look in his direction. The idiot is wearing earphones. I take off running again and land on the rooftop where he is hiding. He’s focused on something. I turn to look, and Brooklyn is standing in front of her window.

  I pick up a piece of an old brick that has fallen off the ledge, and I throw it at him. He turns toward me when it hits him, swinging his rifle around. I take aim and shoot him in the knee. He crumples into a ball, screaming in pain.

  “You’re lucky I’m a nice guy and let you live, Training Wheels.” I kick his rifle out of his reach. “Tell whoever hired you, to stay away from the girl. Consider this a warning.” I start to walk away and hear him call for backup on his phone.

  Now the hard part: getting Brooklyn the hell out of Chicago.

  Chapter Three

  John

  I slide my pistol into the back of my jeans and make sure my bag is securely around me. I take a few steps back before sprinting across the rooftop. My right foot lands on the ledge of the building before I jump at full speed across the alleyway that’s in between the two buildings. As I’m flying through the air, it feels like slow motion. The people beneath me look like tiny ants as I’m leaping over them.

  When both my feet land on the rooftop, I tuck and roll to absorb some of the force of the fall. I’m dazed but stand quickly. I turn to face Training Wheels just in time to see him take aim. I jump to my left, ducking behind an air conditioning unit just as he fires and misses.

  I pull my pistol from its hiding spot and peek around the unit. Only the tip of his head is stuck above the edge along with his rifle. I crawl around to the back of the unit and hide behind the brick wall. If I’m going to get inside this building from the roof, I have to take him out. As soon as I step from my hiding spot, I will be out in the open for him to shoot.

  I keep my back to the brick wall and slowly creep to the edge. As soon as I look around the corner, I take aim quickly and pull the trigger. The bullet shoots from my gun and takes out the target. I hear him fall back on the rooftop along with his rifle.

  I grab the doorknob and twist it, but it’s locked from the inside. I take a step back and aim, shooting the lock on the door. The door flies open, and I rush inside. I take the steps two at a time. I know whatever backup Training Wheels called will be arriving shortly. I didn’t want to kill him, but I needed my message passed on. He didn’t give me any other choice.

  I find Brooklyn’s apartment and rush inside. I can’t believe she leaves the door unlocked in this part of town. Doesn’t she know how dangerous it is?

  I close the door behind me and press my back against it while looking around her apartment. I find myself in a small living room with the kitchen directly across from me. This place has only the bare minimum in furnishings. A worn couch sits in the middle of the living room, pointed at a small tv. No pictures are hung on the walls. There aren’t any decorative pillows, throw blankets, or rugs. It’s nothing like what I pictured it would be.

  I lock the door and slowly make my way through the living room and down the hallway. I have my gun out and ready, just in case someone was already in here waiting for her. I pass by the open bathroom door, checking out the room as I continue my slow descent into her apartment.

  I hear the floor creak behind me and turn to take aim. Just as I turn, something hits me over the head.

  I hear glass breaking before my ears begin ringing. My head is spinning from the hit, but I power through and tackle the person that hit me. My body lands on theirs, and I pin their arms down with my own while my eyes focus.

  It’s her. Brooklyn.

  “It’s you,” she says, shock and confusion evident in her voice.

  “We’ve got to get you out of here, Brooklyn.” I get myself up and pull her up along with me.

  “What are you talking about? And how do you know my name?” She shoves her red curls away from her face and pulls her black tank top back over the edge of her pants, covering up the small amount of cream-colored skin that was teasing me.

  “I don’t have time to explain right now. You’ll just have to trust me.” I pick up her black leather jacket off the back of her couch and toss it to her before moving to peek out of the window.

  When I turn back to her, she tosses the jacket back on the couch and crosses her arms over her chest. “I don’t know who you think you are, but I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  I clench my teeth together and move toward her. “There are men on their way here right now to kill you. I’ve already taken out one on the roof. If we don’t move now, who knows how many will be here.”

  “Why should I trust you?”

  I shrug. “You shouldn’t. You shouldn’t trust anybody right now, but I’m all you got.” I head toward the door. “Now, are you coming with me or are you going to stay here and be killed?”

  She studies me for a long minute. She keeps her arms crossed over her chest while tapping the toe of her black boot. Finally, she takes a step to get the jacket off the back of the couch. She throws it on and grabs the key to her bike that’s hanging next to the door.

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “I’m taking my bike.”

  I shake my head. “Oh, no. You’re riding with me. I can’t keep you safe if you’re on your bike.”

  Her jaw flexes with anger, and she narrows her eyes on me. “I’m not some princess that needs saving. I’m taking my own bike whether you like it or not.” She steps past me and heads out into the hallway.

  I take a deep breath to calm myself. “Damn woman is going to get herself killed.”

  I follow after her and just as I catch up to her, two men in suits round the corner. They see us and immediately, they pull their guns from inside their jackets.

  I don’t have time to think; I can only respond. I take hold of Brooklyn and pull her back, shielding her body with my own as I pull my gun from the waistband of my jeans and shoot.

  The bullet misses both men, but they duck and hide behind the corner, giving us enough time to run.

  We sprint down the hallway, and round another corner. “Where’s the back exit?”

  “This way,” she says while leading me.

  She leads me down several hallways before pushing through a heavy, metal door.

  Just as I turn to close the door, I see the two men only steps behind us. We will be easy targets running down these stairs. I look around on the landing we are on and find a heavy-duty dust mop that is propped up behind the door. I take it and wedge it into the railing of the stairs, blocking the door. It won’t keep them out long, but it’s the best I have.

  I turn to join Brooklyn on the stairs before she wedges herself between the railing and jumps down to the next set of steps. I look over the edge to see that she’s landed safely on the flight below me.

  “Come on,” she says, waving for me to join her.

  I’m too big to
go between the rails like she did, so instead, I climb over them and lower myself down to her. The two men are now beating on the door. I can hear the wooden handle of the dust mop creaking and popping from the force they are applying to the door.

  We repeat the process all over again. She’s much faster at this than I am. We’re two floors down when I hear the handle on the dust mop snap, and the two men rush into the stairwell.

  One of them peeks over the ledge, and our eyes lock. He pulls his gun and aims it at me. I quickly jump down a floor and grab hold of her, pulling her up against the wall of the stairway, protecting her from the gunfire.

  “Stick close to the wall and run as fast as you can,” I tell her.

  Her stair-jumping trick saved time and got us down several floors quicker than taking each step individually, but we can’t be out in the open anymore.

  I follow her down the stairs, sticking close to the wall as we run as fast as we can. I can still hear the two men chasing after us.

  Finally, a heavy, metal door is in sight, and Brooklyn pushes through it. We step out in the back alley and run for the road.

  She stops at her bike and pulls on her helmet. “Follow me as close as you can,” I tell her before running across the road to get on my own bike.

  I jump on and fire it up. I rev the engine a couple times before putting the bike in gear and taking off. I look behind me to see her following me. I see the two men run out of the alley and into the busy street. One of them pulls out their gun and fires, but we’re already too far away.

  I weave in and out of cars, speeding down the busy city streets. Several times I look back to make sure Brooklyn is still there. She is, driving just as fast and as dangerously as I am. Her red curls hang from her helmet and fly behind her. I can’t see her face, but she looks sexy as hell dressed in black leather, and I find that I need to adjust myself since my growing erection is pressed against the hard metal of the bike.

  I have no idea what I’m doing here. I came here intending on killing her, and now I’m saving her with other hired hitmen on my ass. I don’t know who Miles hired or if it was another agency, but I’m going to find out and take them all out, Miles included.