by J. C. Phelps
Next I had to get rid of the body, but I was afraid it would float and the rest of the inhabitants of the yacht might find it. I decided to bring it with us. I slid into the water. Grabbing the dead man by the shirt I pulled him off the deck as quietly as I could. I kept a hold of the man’s shirt as he floated next to me, and then untied the motorboat. Then I began to push the boat forward and pull the man behind me. I did this for what seemed like a very long time until I felt I was far enough away from the yacht to stop for a rest. I could still see the running lights in the distance but I figured it was a good sign that no new lights had appeared in the darkness.
I crawled up into the motorboat next to the sleeping men. Still holding onto the casualty, I tried to rearrange arms and legs so I could eventually get to the motor. I didn’t dare start it up until I could no longer see lights in the distance. With one hand I repositioned the target and Mr. Black so I had full access to the motor and then I sat watching the lights grow smaller. I don’t know how long it had been or exactly when I couldn’t see the lights anymore. I had been sitting in the boat rolling with the waves and just realized they were gone. I pried my fingers from the dead man’s shirt and left him floating at the side of the boat.
The sky had begun to lighten and I wondered how long I had sat oblivious to the world around me. I was worried about Mr. Black. He had said that too much of the sedative could be fatal and from what I could tell he had gotten more than one dose. I started to move toward him to check his breathing when the target grabbed for me. Instinctively I struck out and managed to hit him in the nose. His head went back sharply but he brought it forward again and lunged for me. Fighting in that small boat was awkward. We grabbed at each other and punches landed randomly and rocked the boat. He had me down on the floor of the boat and was choking me. I had somehow slipped under Mr. Black’s legs and about all the target could see of me was my face. My arms seemed pinned underneath the hulking Mr. Black but I was able to get at the silver box on his belt. I worked the syringe out of the box while I fought unconsciousness from the strangle hold the target had on my neck. I was frantically trying to get my arm up high enough to deliver the remaining sedative to the target. Everything was going dark and I saw little white lights dancing in and out of my vision. My eyes started to roll into the back of my head involuntarily and I knew that I had to get this over with or I was dead. With a burst of adrenaline I pulled my arm free and stuck the needle in the target’s back. He immediately let go of my neck and tried to reach for the needle. I got myself free from Mr. Black’s limp body and sat coughing. The target was still wrestling with himself trying to get the needle out when he slowed and then slumped over Mr. Black’s legs face down.
I reached for the syringe and noticed that there was still some liquid left in it, so I pushed the plunger to empty the remaining amount into the target. I didn’t want him waking up again until the chopper arrived. After I was sure the needle held no more, I pulled it from his back and replaced it in the silver box that was still half attached to the utility belt.
I sat back in the boat and wondered where the chopper was and wanted to kick myself because I had forgotten the homing device. I switched it on and waited. The dead man still bobbed near the boat, but I didn’t notice much of anything until I heard the sound of a helicopter. I scanned the horizon and saw a small black dot. I turned the engine over and it caught on the first try so I headed for the chopper.
A rope with a harness attached landed in the water not far from the boat, almost hitting the dead man’s body who, for some reason was still hanging around. I got myself back into the water and pulled the boat in the direction of the waiting rope. When I reached it I brought it back on board the motorboat with me. First I hooked up the unconscious target and he was hauled up. Then I hooked up Mr. Black. Finally I attached the rope to myself and let myself be hauled to the chopper.
Mr. Brown was in the pilot’s seat once again, but Mr. White had joined him. He had been the one hauling up all the bodies, including mine.
He looked at me and said, “Good job. Who’s that?” He gestured to the dead body floating near the boat.
“He must have gotten tangled in the rope.” I had forgotten to bring in the rope that had held the motorboat to the back of the yacht.
The chopper had already headed back to land and I sat watching for Mr. Black to make a move.
*****
Chapter Ten
The target regained consciousness just a couple hours into the flight, but Mr. Black remained unresponsive. My main attention was on Mr. Black, but it seemed odd the target was submissive. When he awoke he just looked around and said nothing. If I had found myself in a similar predicament I think I would have been yelling and screaming for answers. He had wriggled in his bonds for a few seconds but then his eyes met Mr. White’s. The target didn’t move much after that. It had seemed as if something passed between them. Maybe it was the stern look Mr. White gave him.
Mr. Black was still under the influence of the sedative when we landed at an obscure helipad somewhere in the desert. I didn’t know where we were but it looked like a small military base. A high chain link fence was topped with rolled barbed wire, surrounded the installation. There were a few large buildings that looked like hangers for aircraft, but no runways visible.
As soon as the helicopter touched down, Mr. Brown cut the engine and three men in black fatigues ran up to us. Mr. White escorted the target out the door of the helicopter and the three men saluted him. He just nodded at each of them and marched the target toward a building not too far from us with the three men in tow.
The building was built from brick and unmarked. It looked somewhat like a convenience store without the large glass windows and doors in front. Instead of the glass it had a heavy metal gray door.
Mr. White disappeared into the building with the target and one of his escorts. The other two men in black fatigues planted themselves on either side of the heavy door.
I looked down at Mr. Black and his eyes were open and he was studying my expression.
“Did you get the target?” he asked in his normal voice.
I just nodded.
“Good,” he said and sat up. I could tell he was somewhat light-headed by the way he swayed while sitting there. He looked to Mr. Brown who had moved to the back of the chopper next to me.
“What happened to the guy?” Mr. Black asked me, meaning the man who had stuck him with the needle. I didn’t say anything and Mr. Brown picked up the question for me.
“I don’t know what happened, but when we got the signal from Ms. Grey’s homing beacon and not yours too, Mr. White thought he’d better ride shotgun,” Mr. Brown explained. “Mr. White is usually close by when we do a job like this one,” he directed at me. Then he looked to Mr. Black again and said, “When we got to the little boat there you were snoring and drooling and so was the target and there was a man floating around the boat face down in the water.” They both looked at me.
“The guy somehow got a hold of the syringe and got you in the leg,” I told Mr. Black.
“Well, what then?” Mr. Brown said wanting to hear all the details.
“So I broke his neck,” I said with a sick sound in my voice. All conversation stopped there until Mr. White returned to the chopper.
“I see you’re awake,” he said to Mr. Black. “You can tell me about it when we get back.” He looked at me to let me know I would have to explain too. Seconds later we lifted off the ground and headed for home.
The flight home took the rest of the day and most of the evening. I wasn’t paying attention to the time. I was worried about how to explain what had happened. I didn’t want to make Mr. Black sound incompetent because it was a fluke. It was pure luck that the guy got to the syringe. I know if he hadn’t, everything would have been ok and I wouldn’t have been the one who killed someone.
We finally reached the office and Mr. White told Mr. Brown that he’d be in touch. Mr. Black and I followed him down to the
office and each took a seat while he eased himself behind his desk. There was silence for some time and I became even more uncomfortable. I didn’t let it show though. I knew I had to keep a tight control on my emotions right now because if I didn’t I would just fall to the floor and cry.
“So, what happened?” he asked Mr. Black.
“I dropped the syringe on the deck while trying to subdue a threat. The threat retrieved the syringe and stuck me with it,” he said and then stopped.
Mr. White looked to me and said, “You’re going to have to fill in the blanks for me. I want it from the beginning. From when you hit the water,” he added.
I started with the story being sure not to miss a single detail. I told him how we saw the boat and swam to it and how the plan went perfectly until the man was pulling the motorboat back onto the deck of the yacht. How Mr. Black went after him and wasn’t seen. How the guy had knocked the box to the deck and retrieved the syringe. How Mr. Black continued to fight until the sedative took hold. Then I paused. I was having a hard time with this. Mr. White came around the desk and sat on it right in front of me. He said in an uncharacteristically gentle voice. “Then what? I need to know.”
I looked to Mr. Black and he had a sympathetic look on his face too. I should have been grateful but it pissed me off. What was I, a sissy girl? The looks and the tone in Mr. White’s voice snapped me right out of the funk I was in. I straightened my spine and said with no feeling at all, “So I got up behind him and broke his neck. Then I loaded Mr. Black and the target into the motorboat.” I continued with my story all the way up to the chopper retrieval. I even left in the part about the dead guy getting caught up in the rope I had left hanging off the boat. It was the truth and they wanted all the little details.
When I had finished Mr. White stood up and returned to his seat at the desk. He said, “I am not happy with the way this turned out you two. However, Ms. Grey you did the right thing by toting that body away from the yacht. Mr. Black…” Mr. White looked at him and continued. “I am aware some things can’t be controlled and this seems to have been one of those situations. I’m glad you held out to have Ms. Grey be your backup. I don’t think you could have chosen a better partner. All this said, I am putting you two on the back burner for now.” He folded his hands in front of himself and said, “Mr. Black, you are to return to your training of Ms. Grey. She still has things to learn before I can trust the two of you on another mission.”
Mr. Black looked perturbed at being put on the back burner. But I was relieved. I needed a break from the real world for a while. I seemed to do better in fantasy anyway.
Mr. White added as we got up to leave, “Mr. Black, I will give Ms. Grey a ride home tonight.”
Mr. Black looked a bit shocked at this but just left me there without another word. I was horrified. Why would Mr. White want to take me home? Many thoughts entered my brain, the first of which was sexual, but that was shot down immediately when I remembered how we had botched the mission. The next thought was the one that seemed more reasonable. I was going to get into more trouble. If it had been anyone else besides Mr. White or Mr. Black that I was going to get into trouble from I would have just blown it off, but I didn’t want to come off as inept to these men. I wanted to fit in. I had never wanted to fit in more in my life! I had tried everything to become a part of this and it seemed to be the most suitable to my true self.
“Ready?” Mr. White asked.
“Sure,” I said, unable to hide my nervousness.
He led me out of the building and actually opened the door on his Mustang to let me in. He climbed in behind the wheel and the sound of the engine was reassuring. It reminded me of my car and I realized I actually missed it.
We left the lot but he didn’t take me home. He drove to a spot known to teenagers for necking. It had a beautiful view of the city below and a steep drop at the edge of the parking lot. He got out of the car and came around to my door. I was distressed and hadn’t even gotten out of the car yet.
He opened the door and said, “Come on out.”
I stepped out with caution and he laughed. It was a sound that I had never heard before. It was quite pleasant and reassuring. He said, “Don’t worry. My intentions are honorable.” He flashed his rare smile at me. After he shut the door to the car he went to the hood and laid back on it. I followed suit and lay back next to him. We sat for a long time gazing at the stars not saying anything.
Finally he spoke up. “Ms. Grey, the reason I brought you out here was so we could talk like people and not like boss to employee. The men and I are very good friends and this wouldn’t work if we weren’t. I would like to set up a similar relationship with you.” I had no reply; I was caught entirely off guard.
“Do I make you nervous?” he asked through his smile.
Rarely could I pull off a lie so I said, “Kind of.”
“Well, that’s good.”
Where was he going with this? It gave the impression of flirting but I had a hard time believing it. Maybe Mr. Brown was right and Mr. White was about to try his luck. Well his luck with women was about to turn. I was certain if this evolved into a sexual relationship I would be out of a job very quickly and also without a boyfriend. Speaking of jobs, I had NEVER been paid for anything. Money wasn’t that big of a deal for me because everything I needed was paid for by Mommy and Daddy, but I didn’t relish the idea of working for free.
With a bit of an attitude I said, “Am I ever going to get paid? Or do you not pay for training?”
“Yes, Ms. Grey. You should have already received your first check. I know you weren’t home long before we sent you on this job so you probably didn’t get a chance to check your mail. I will be cutting checks for this job in the next day or two. The company posts a fee for each job and keeps a small percentage plus expenses. Which leaves the larger percentage of the fee to be split among the players.”
“Players?” I asked.
“Yeah. You and Mr. Black were the players for this job.”
“What about Mr. Brown and you?” I asked.
“We were expenses this time. The players who do most of the work get most of the money,” he explained.
“Oh, I see.” That sounded fair to me. We sat for a while longer and watched the sky.
“So, what’s everybody’s real name?” I felt him jump slightly at my voice.
“Well, you already know my real name. To find out who the others are you’re going to have to ask them or do some more snooping around,” he said.
“Is there a time when you guys call each other by your real names?” I asked.
“Not on a job. When we get together for other reasons we may or may not. It just depends on the mood at the time,” he explained. “I suppose I better get you home, the sun is going to be up soon.” He started to sit up.
“Can we stay to watch the sunrise?” I asked. I had gotten used to watching the sun lift it’s head over the world around me while I was out at the cabin and was missing it right about then.
“Sure,” he said and relaxed back down onto the hood of his car.
“How many people have you killed?” I asked out of the blue. I could pretend that it didn’t bother me for only so long and I was beginning to feel more comfortable around him. The scent of him still made me a nervous wreck, but I trusted him.
“I don’t know,” he said quietly. “More than my fair share. It gets easier, but what really helps is knowing why you’re doing it. In this line of work you kill or be killed. There is no better reason to kill than to stay alive.”
For some reason I trusted his motivations for taking the jobs he did, but I asked anyway, “Do you take every job that comes your way?”
“No. I have to believe in the cause. I don’t mind bending the law from time to time, but I won’t take a job to do a hit on someone’s husband or wife. Is that what you meant?” he asked.
“Pretty much,” I said and we fell silent to watch the sunrise.
When it was fully l
ight we got back into his car and he drove me home. I stepped out of the car and felt better about the whole situation. I said thank you and was about to shut the door when he said Mr. Black would be picking me up in a couple of days and then reminded me to check my mail.
He drove away and I went directly to Mom and Dad’s to collect my mail.
Mom was in the kitchen at the table painting her latest creation. It was a small shelf she had already stained but was now adding some finishing touches.
“Hi!” she said happily. “I haven’t seen you for a long time.”
“I know,” I replied just as happily. “I like your shelf, you did a great job.”
“You know what it is? Your dad can be such a pain. He pretends to not know what my stuff is. I knew he had to be pretending. How could you not know this is a shelf?” she said.
I smiled. My dad and mom were the perfect couple. I had only seen them argue once and it was over me. As I got older my mother had voiced her opinion to me about my dad’s shortcomings, but then she would end it with some thing like, ‘I suppose I should be used to it by now,’ or ‘I still love him though.’
“Do you have my mail?” I asked Mom.
“Yes. It’s over there on top of the microwave.” She pointed with her paintbrush.
I walked over to the small pile of letters and flipped through them. Credit card application, then another, and another, bank statement and then I saw it. The return address was stamped:
1324 Plaza Dr.
Suite 73
I tore it open and looked at the check. Wow, I had no idea! Wow! If I kept working for these guys I would soon be independently wealthy and I wouldn’t need Mom and Dad’s money.
“What’s that?” Mom asked motioning toward my check.
“It’s my paycheck,” I said with pride as I handed it to her.