by Heskett, Jim
As Ember jumped up to her feet to prepare for another attack, a thought occurred to her. She was near the Westminster Post Office, but these were Five Points assassins. And not especially skilled ones, either. New to the Club, or just used to other forms of killing. None of them had come armed with guns or knives. Even against three of them, Ember wouldn’t have too much trouble.
This attack, therefore, wasn’t meant to kill or disable her. This attack was meant as a distraction.
They had barely shown her their best and were only interested in prolonging the fight for as long as possible.
Shit.
It could only mean one thing.
The assassin in the back of her car wrenched his upper torso free and slid down through the backseat and out the door, a smattering of glass chips raining down as he stood to his full height. The three goons faced off against her once again.
She took out her gun and trained it on the one closest to her. This got their attention. She used their surprise to lean down and pick up the other one, then she held both her arms out, fingers on the triggers.
Both of them stood there, waiting. Not attacking. Curious.
"Sorry, boys," Ember said as she stretched to test the injury to her side. It didn't feel like her ribs were broken. Only bruised. "I don't have time for this. I don't want to shoot you, but I will if I have to."
Despite the guns trained on them, one of them took a swipe at her, and she dashed to the right to evade it. She circled around to the front of her car, keys in hand by the time she had the front door open. As she slid in and jabbed the key in the ignition, two of them were racing toward her side of the car while the third tried to climb on top of it.
That was a terrible mistake.
She started up the car and slammed on the gas, causing him to flail in the air and land on the hard parking lot behind. He cried out and put a hand on his back as he writhed around on the ground. She watched him in her rearview mirror as the engine revved.
Ember floored it out of the parking lot as the three assassins looked on, helpless. No, she didn’t have time for this. They had completed their task and delayed her while Xavier prepared for something. She didn’t know what it was she needed to do, but she now knew where to go.
Xavier had known she was here, and he’d sent these three idiots to delay her, to keep her from finding out what it was he was actually doing right now.
Chapter Twenty
XAVIER
The steady pulse of nicotine desire flexed throughout Xavier’s chest. But, he wouldn’t allow himself any Skoal until he had finished what he needed to do inside Ember’s apartment. He was taking care not to leave any DNA evidence behind. He’d been too careless at the hotel. He’d treated Ember like a target, not another trained killer. That wouldn’t happen again.
He closed up his suitcase and took one last look around the living room. A fine job, and with any luck, she wouldn’t know what he had done here until it was too late. He had four days remaining to complete his contract on Ember before he forfeited the right to kill her, and some other assassin from some other Branch would take over the contract. But Xavier had never left a contract undone, and he didn’t intend for this to be his first.
Ideally, he didn’t want to leave it until the last day. He’d rather wait for her to walk in that front door and put a bullet in her chest while she stood there with her keys in one hand. But, he knew better than to go up against her one-on-one. What he’d done in here tonight would give him an advantage. It would help him stay two steps ahead of her.
His eyes landed on the holes in the wall from his failed attempt to take her out from the hotel across the parking lot. The two holes had bits of Scotch tape near them. One also had little strands of red fiber trapped underneath the tape. Upon close inspection, the red fiber looked like yarn. He checked the bullet holes in the window and found tape and yarn bits there, too.
Ember must have used lines of yarn to track the trajectory of his shots from the hotel.
“That’s clever,” he mused, eyeing the holes. “That’s very clever. What did you find in the hotel, I wonder?”
He wished he had thought of booby-trapping the hotel room, but he couldn’t have been sure Ember would be the next to enter it. He wasn’t at all opposed to collateral damage, but as a professional, he preferred to keep unnecessary deaths to an absolute minimum. It was far easier that way.
Still, he was impressed with her ingenuity. In another life, he might have wanted to take Ember under his wing and mentor her, to teach her about rifles and long-range assassin work. But... different Branches, different philosophies, different everything.
When he killed her, he knew he would feel a tinge of regret at losing such a clever — and good-looking — young woman. He knew he was never going to have a chance at dating someone like Ember, but he could fantasize.
And, it didn’t matter — it had to be done. Xavier had seen plenty of good men and women die before their time. Graveyards were full of clever people. Xavier had heard a quote long ago that went something like that.
As he looked around to make sure he hadn't left anything undone, he noted Ember's framed landscape art prints on the walls. Very nice black and white photos. Most assassins he knew had generic decorations like this in their home. They expected to eat a bullet at any time or to welcome a raid by the police. Personally identifying knick-knacks and family pictures were non-existent among their kind. Ember was no exception. If she had parents, or siblings, or kids, no one visiting this room would ever know. If she was smart about it.
He checked one other thing that had drawn his interest. A yellow legal pad, sitting out on her coffee table. The name Zach Bennett had been scrawled there, with a phone number below it. Nothing else on the page. A new contract? Surely Ember wouldn’t be careless enough to leave that information out in plain view. Also, would she even be allowed to take on a contract while she was in the middle of trial by combat? Probably not. Xavier imagined her membership status was currently suspended, pending the outcome of the next six weeks.
He shrugged. Whoever Zach Bennett was, it didn’t matter to Xavier. If she did die at his hand, maybe he would come back and follow up on whoever this person was. But not tonight.
Enough exploration. Time to leave before his target made her way home.
He checked his latex gloves to make sure there were no tears or holes and crossed the living room. Front door open, one foot out into the walkway outside. His face pivoted when something caught his eye.
Oh no. He stopped in his tracks as the next-door neighbor stood in front of her door, keys in one hand and phone in the other. She was frozen in place. Her eyes flicked down to his latex gloves.
“W— who the hell are you?” she said, her voice riddled with fear.
Xavier had to make a quick decision. But, it wasn't much of a decision at all. She had seen his face. Xavier had chosen not to wear anything to mask his appearance. Even something as simple as an exterminator's uniform would have done the job, but he had been so sure no one else would be around. On his way in, the condo building had seemed empty and quiet enough, and he didn't think anyone seeing him would raise any eyebrows. People came and went all the time from places like this, and in today's world, he knew they rarely stopped to talk to one another. He'd assumed Ember was the quiet type who had probably never even met her neighbors.
But he’d forgotten about the latex gloves. That was a dead giveaway. He wasn’t supposed to be in Ember’s condo, and nothing said that louder than a male ex-military type wearing latex gloves.
Too late now.
Xavier dropped the suitcase, not even hesitating. He’d made his decision before he’d even realized it. When the suitcase thumped onto the walkway, the woman flinched. He leaped toward her and wrapped one hand around her mouth before he batted the phone out of her hand. Then, he snatched her keys and jabbed the extended one into the lock.
By this time, she had broken from her paralysis and started struggling
to get away.
Xavier had to hurry. Keeping the hand over her mouth firmly in place, he tugged her toward the door and threw a shoulder into it. They tumbled into the apartment, and both crashed onto the carpet.
As she scooted away from him, he retrieved his suitcase and then kicked the door shut behind them. He tossed the keys onto the floor and flexed his fingers. He would have to do this the old-fashioned way.
“I want you to know,” he whispered, “I don’t usually do this sort of thing. I consider myself to be one of the most professional assassins in my Branch.”
She was sitting, pushing herself away with her hands. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, but her eyes widened as he spoke. “Get — get out of my house!” she whispered, then stuttered, but the words finally fell out.
“I really do not like collateral damage. But you, lady, were in the wrong place at the wrong time. It can’t be helped.”
She tried to shove herself to her feet while turning toward the back bedroom, and actually succeeded at getting away. Xavier reacted quickly, hopping up and closing the distance to the woman. He crashed on top of her, tackling her and forcing her face-down onto the carpet, a soft off-white variety. She screamed, which was another problem, and the carpet did little to absorb the sound. He didn’t know how thin the walls were here. He didn’t think the neighbor on the other side was home, but he couldn’t be sure.
I need to get this over with.
It brought him no joy, but he knew his life would be far more complicated if he allowed the woman to live. He acted out the motion he’d been trained to, one he’d repeated dozens of times. He placed his feet inside her ankles and pulled outward to spread her legs apart, then he laced his hands under her armpits. He pushed his arms through until he could use his elbows to pin her arms down. All four limbs locked, keeping her from breaking free of his grip. Her hands flopped uselessly by her sides.
Now, with the leverage he needed, he flipped her over in a quick and abrupt motion, so he was on the bottom, with her pressed on top of him. She wriggled, but it did no good. It was a Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu move that worked only when the attacker weighed more than the attacked. In this case, he outweighed her by at least fifty pounds.
Xavier pressed an open hand on either side of her head. She craned her neck to look at him, and he could sense the grave fear there. The pulsing, immediate sense of terror living in her mind.
He took a breath, steadying himself. Movies and books always made this part seem so easy, so nonchalant. In reality, it was terrifying for both parties, and it wasn’t easy, no matter how frail and weak the prey was.
Xavier exhaled, simultaneously jerking his hands counter-clockwise, snapping her neck to the right and continuing through the motion until he felt the resistance of her vertebrae pressing against her collarbone. In an instant, the life went out of her eyes. She ceased all struggle and went limp on top of him.
He pushed her to the side and staggered to his feet, panting. A droplet of spit settled on his lips.
"I didn't want to do this," he said, each word labored and enunciated. "I don't kill random civilians, and I don't kill for free. You did this.”
Xavier padded across the room and checked out the front window. He didn't want to risk taking her out the door to the walkway, but he didn't know if he had a better choice. If he tossed her out a window or out the back fire escape, anyone looking northward from the hotel next door would see. Maybe he could wrap her up in a blanket and take her down to her car. Maybe he could make her stand up with an arm around his neck and pretend she was blackout drunk and being escorted to his car. Like that old movie. But, that might look even more suspicious than wrapping her in a rug.
But then, the decision was made for him. A car pulled into the lot. Ember’s car. Damn it. She must have dealt with the three Five Points guys much quicker than he’d anticipated. At least he’d finished what he needed to do at her place.
He turned and stared at the dead woman on the floor. The gloves were still on his hands. She hadn't gotten any of his skin under her fingernails. The situation was manageable, if not ideal. Bringing the body with him for disposal later was the best option. It would at least launch a manhunt first, and when the authorities couldn't find the body, they might expect foul play, but they'd have nowhere to start looking. And no motive.
But there was another option, and Ember had forced his hand to take it.
He raced into her kitchen and checked under the sink for a bottle of bleach. She had one, and fortunately, it was close to full. He carried it back into the living room and poured it over her dead body, from head to toe. She hadn’t scratched him, but he couldn’t be sure he hadn’t left any hair fibers or anything else near her. Bleach should take care of that.
Once she was properly doused, he didn’t see any reason to hang around. Xavier ran into her bedroom and opened the back window, then hustled out to the rear fire escape. Not what he’d wanted, but it would have to do.
Chapter Twenty-One
EMBER
Ember pulled into the parking lot and paused. Lights off, she drove to the far edge and pointed the nose of her car at her front door. She didn't see anything suspicious, but that didn't mean it was safe to enter.
Her hands tightened around the steering wheel as she deliberated. The trio of thugs in Westminster had been a distraction. Something to delay her. And, keeping her away from her apartment had to be the most likely goal. So, was she about to walk into an apartment rigged with C4?
She didn't think so. Maybe it was an unwise gamble, but she didn't think Xavier would risk something so public as a big explosion. From what she knew of him, he wasn't showy. Sniper rifles, knives, safe and quiet kills. Those were his preferred methods.
But that still didn’t give her an excuse to act foolishly. Ember had survived in this business for three long years by constantly looking over her shoulder and expecting an attack to come. Now that she knew for a fact that someone was trying to kill her, she had to be even more careful. She had to be better. She had to be perfect.
Ember checked her watch and smiled. Tussling with those thugs in the parking lot had amassed her almost a thousand steps. It was cheating, but she would take it. She hadn’t hit her step goal once this week, and ultimately, cardio was cardio.
Ember left the car and stepped out into the night air. A chill descended. Snow would come soon, as it always did a week or two before Halloween. The first time she'd seen it after moving here, the chunky flakes of white had both mesmerized and terrified her since she'd been driving at the time. They didn't get too much snow in Southern California. But, like all things Colorado, she'd adjusted to it in quick fashion.
Ember ascended the steps to the second floor and stopped short when the door to the hot guy’s apartment opened. He stepped out, holding a plump trash bag in one hand and his phone in the other. Wearing gray sweatpants and a black compression shirt that seemed to be choking on the breadth of his pectoral muscles.
He set the trash bag down and nodded at her. “Evening.”
She extended a hand. “I’m Ember. I don’t think we’ve ever actually met properly.”
“Layne,” he said, and gave her a firm handshake with the hand that hadn’t held the trash bag. He had big hands. She liked that about him. “No, I don’t think we’ve met. I think this is the closest we’ve ever stood from each other.”
“Layne, have you seen anyone out and about tonight? Someone peeking in windows, maybe, or someone you haven’t recognized being around the building before?”
She wasn’t sure why she’d said it. There was no reason to involve a civilian in this, but it might tell her if Xavier was still here, at least. Layne looked like a trustworthy guy who wouldn’t get too nosy.
"No, I don't think so," he said. "I just got back from the gym and realized tomorrow is trash day. Better to do it now than early in the morning."
“Ugh, you’re making me jealous. I haven’t been to the gym all week.”
He shr
ugged. “Hard to fit it in sometimes, isn’t it?”
“Sure is.”
“Do you have a stalker?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Huh?”
“Peeking in your windows.”
“Oh, no, I don’t think so. I thought I heard something the other night. Probably nothing. I don’t want to make everyone paranoid, so maybe we should keep this between us..”
He leaned over and picked up the bag, then flashed a brilliant smile. “Roger that. Well, have a good evening, Ember.”
“Enjoy your trip to the dumpster.”
He chuckled as he passed her on the stairs, and she proceeded to her apartment. The curtains were drawn, but she waited a few seconds to make sure she couldn't spot any movement. Layne was down at the dumpster, his back to her.
With a quick turn of the key, she opened the door and jumped inside, drawing one of her pistols. She swept it across the room as she checked for anything out of the ordinary. She found nothing. Everything seemed just as she had left it.
With the hook of a heel, she closed the door behind her. Then, she noted a Sharpie marker she’d left on an end table had been disturbed. Deliberately placed to point at the northeast edge of the window, it had shifted slightly. It wasn’t warm enough for the air conditioner to kick on and move it, so someone had brushed up against it. No big surprise there, though. The fact that Xavier had been here seemed obvious. This confirmed it.
Ember paid great attention to her front door. All looked well on the inside. With a little screwdriver taken from the nightstand drawer, she returned to the walkway and waited for Layne to go back into his apartment. She removed the doorbell cover and examined the electronics inside. It looked as normal as could be.