Evolving Crane

by Dave Welch

  Goody coughed as he blew his smoke into the ceiling.

  “Canieya,” he said. “I know you can do it. Besides, there is no one here with a record like yours. Almost four hundred arrests. You got a vendetta, Lawson. That’s why I chose you, and that’s why everyone looks at you like that. They know, Lawson… They know!”

  “Oh, that’s what that was.” I giggled.

  “They know, and so do your friends in high places. You are the next hitman. I just hate it had to come to this,” he mumbled.

  He then sat back in his chair, blowing his horrid cigar smoke into the air. I was still sitting there talking, slightly gagging, yet compelled to stay, regardless of this punishing odor.

  “But that’s such a big role,” I coughed in complaint.

  “Yes, and fitting for such a big ego,” he added, fanning the smoke away. “Not to mention the level of technology you’ll be using.”

  I relaxed while chewing on my gum with frantic mastery.

  “So, let me get this straight,” I said. “I get promoted to a certified hitman?”

  “Uh-huh,” Goody replied.

  “I get a list of yet to be announced benefits?”

  “Yep!”

  “High tech gadgets?”

  “Uh-huh,” he smoked with a mumble.

  I wasn’t done yet.

  “Didn’t you say, substantial pay raise?” I quizzed.

  He smiled. “You got it.”

  I sat back in my seat with a smirk on my face.

  I was this much closer to chopping off Vaideen’s dick and shoving it in a blender, only to make him drink it.

  Nope!

  I'm not apologizing either…

  My wrathful thoughts escape me at times.

  Just then, one of the agents spoke.

  “Don’t worry about moving your belongings. We’ve got everything covered,” he asserted with a positive vibe.

  I glared up at him with a skeptical eye.

  “Oh really?” I blurted.

  “So, what’s it going to be, Lawson?” Beamed Goody.

  I had been training for this position all my life.

  “Lieutenant or hitman?” He quizzed as he sat up, resting his elbows on the desk.

  This fool! I’m about to kill so many motherfuckers.

  I thought about the price put on my adversary’s head. I was in total approval. I nodded with elation.

  Goody got out of his seat and walked over to the mantle shelf. He grabbed a few tissues from an embroidered box. Then, he walked over to the edge of his desk and sat down.

  He shook his head, passing the tissues over to me.

  I thought this was his sick idea of a temporary contract.

  But no…

  He leaned up to my ear and spoke with intimacy.

  “You gotta booger in your nose.”

  The agents and I left Goody’s stankin’ ass office.

  And all my, now former co-workers, glared with veritable anxiety.

  I mean, from every hall of the FBI base, did they stare.

  “I’on give a shit!” I blurted.

  And that was every time they made eye contact.

  Hell, I was moving back to America. This fact alone presented a few problems, but it was nothing that I couldn’t handle.

  Shit!

  I forgot about Rosie.

  Queens, New York: LaGuardia

  It was 5:30 p.m. when we touched down in New York.

  On the way to baggage claim, my two compadres finally decided to introduce themselves. I hadn’t really taken the time to observe them in detail, but the more I looked at them, the more they began to resemble each other.

  “I’m Agent Woods,” the agent informed as we shook hands.

  “And Agent Lockley,” he gestured to the man beside him.

  “Agent Lawson, I want you to understand that you are now part of an elite team. So many people just became your enemy. And no matter what happens, you have to keep your head on straight.” Lockley noted.

  “That sounds like my old job,” I replied as Agent Woods grabbed all of the bags.

  He was somewhat bigger than his counterpart.

  He walked over to me as we stood near the baggage claim.

  “We are looking for a man with a rap sheet from here back to the plane we just got off.” Woods bellowed, way louder than necessary.

  “My ex!” I shouted.

  “I assure you, ma’am, this is no joking matter. Being a kick ass agent isn't half of it. You have to be vigilant.” Lockley proclaimed. “Vaideen has a group of followers. Assassins that move like shadows.”

  I was blown away. I thought I had gone mad.

  “So, I don’t need my eyes checked?” I asked.

  Lockley glanced away in disappointment, with his head down. He sighed as if he expected me to be another way, more professional, I guess. It was like I needed to display some other form of competence that I didn't have.

  “We don't know much about them, but we do believe that they have been working with Vaideen for quite some time now,” Woods explained.

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing… A dangerous group of Assassins stalking me? That means I’m getting to them.

  I felt honored.

  We made it to the metal detectors, and then my intuition kicked in.

  “Uh, guys,” I whispered. “I know we are all special and everything…you got your own private jets and whatnots… And I know you got more than just toothpaste packed in those bags of yours.”

  “-Calm down,” Lockley interjected while reaching into his coat pocket. He put on a pair of Ray Bans. “We’re on duty.”

  “What! Now? Right now?” I yelled with an eager smile.

  These guys don’t waste time, and I live for this.

  I was still observing my surroundings when Agent Woods sat the duffle bags on the conveyor belt.

  The guard on duty acted as if someone had already tipped him off about this whole shindig.

  While gazing into the distance, Lockley grumbled, “Don’t look, but we’re being watched by the Coral.”

  I heard of these guys before, but I was just as clueless as the next man. I glanced around, trying to spot them.

  “What? Who are they?” I asked.

  Agent Woods spoke to an airport staff member at the desk. I couldn’t tell what he was saying, but I saw the staff member grab the telephone.

  Something was going down and fast.

  My blood boiled; I was ready for anything.

  I hadn’t picked up on the gang. They could be right in front of me or right next to me.

  Management staff approached the desk swiftly as Lockley finally answered me.

  “They, ma’am, are a group of terrorists known for prowling on the innocent, robbing them of their freedom and wealth. Recent allegations suggest that they may have several connections with the Bomb King.”

  I smiled with a breath of solace.

  “The Bomb King,” I grumbled.

  I could taste his demise.

  I had found a group of death wrangling gangsters that were conveniently connected to the minister of mayhem.

  But I was mad.

  Vaideen had acquired a nickname, and I didn’t. The Bomb King. The name fit him well, which was very, very upsetting. I saw red, and I hadn’t even begun to wallow in warfare.

  The management staff approached us.

  “Get some backup,” Woods shouted to the security guard.

  Lockley smiled at that, which I didn’t understand. I was sure these guys didn't have a sense of humor.

  “We’ve already got a plan of action. Just stay where you are. We’ll take care of-,” Lockley parsed as I had already left his side, with subtlety, I might add.

  Their plan was simply no longer my craft.

  Separating myself made me a target. That’s what I wanted.

  I figured I could take this moment to lure the gang out of silence. This became relatively easy.

  The closer I got, the more fear I could see
in the eyes of the innocent.

  The deafening gang grew rambunctious and offensive.

  Sadly, it was only four of them, parading haphazardly through the airport. The law didn’t apply to these guys, mainly because the police force had become so shady. But not me. I didn’t care what other people thought. I wanted Vaideen’s head on my mantelpiece.

  Now, I considered myself a bit sexy. And this day, I happened to be wearing a black shirt, a black snakeskin leather coat, a pair of thigh-high boots, and my favorite pair of black leather leggings.

  I twisted my hips while strutting towards the Coral. I quickly caught the ring leaders’ eye, who evidently found me attractive.

  I seductively pinned my hair up with my weaponized hair clamp. It’s lite as a feather with a retractable razor concealed within its elegant design. It’s so incognito that sometimes I forget I’m wearing it.

  While walking by, I grabbed the ringleader’s ass.

  He stopped in his tracks.

  “Hmm…” I mumbled.

  He reacted by pulling out a 9mm.

  The crowd dispersed immediately.

  Because of Crane, I knew exactly what it was like to be on the other side of a gun. Of course, this wasn’t the response I was going for, but it would have to work.

  I turned around, teasing openly as he loaded the gun.

  “Ooohh, big guns. I love a man with big guns.” I praised, looking him up and down.

  The other gangsters turned around to watch this scenario play out. One gangster wore a blue hoodie, and he didn’t shilly-shally as he walked up to the ringleader’s side.

  “She’s too sexy to be in those leggings. I say we take them off.” He implied.

  “Naw. Naw, now… this here’s mine. What’s your name, sexy?” The knotty ruffian asked as he aimed.

  “Canieya.” I purred, walking closer to him.

  The other gangsters snickered from the rear. They gambled with their eyes as their laughs withered.

  Could they be on to me already?

  I refused to delay my aim for conquest.

  I provocatively stepped in towards the ringleader.

  “Is everything you carry big?” I questioned.

  “Yeah, you wanna see?” He sneered.

  “Uh-huh.” I softly replied.

  I caressed myself, running my fingers through my hair, finally stepping past the barrel of his gun to breathe in his foul odor.

  There came a bulge in his pants.

  I rested my head on his chest and glanced off into the crowd. The spectators backed away as several guards moved in.

  I unzipped his pants and turned away from the crowd, glancing over the ringleader’s shoulder.

  “You smell good,” I whispered, snarling with a squint.

  The other hoodlums whispered amongst themselves as I grabbed the ring leader’s crotch. This may have been a bit much.

  He stumbled back.

  “Whooaa, baby. Let’s get out of here first,” he said.

  I glanced off again, giggling to buy time.

  Walkie-talkies resonated through the chaos with agent Woods's raucous voice bawling, “Stand down! I repeat. Stand down!”

  But the ringleader was so captivated. Dumbass. He grabbed my hand just as the blue-hooded gangster reached into his coat pocket.

  “It’s a trap!!” He shouted.

  The ringleader didn’t think twice as he started firing, but I was already judo tossing him through the air.

  I slammed him into the ground so fast that I broke his wrist, flicking his gun away.

  “Aaaagggghhhh!!!” He yelled in traumatic anguish.

  The blue-hooded gangster opened fire.

  It turned into a war zone as I rolled out of dodge.

  I fled over to a newsstand with the hoodlums darting behind me.

  Screams scattered as the blue-hooded gangster grabbed me by the collar.

  I roundhouse kicked him in the face and snatched his gun away, ejecting the magazine.

  I swept him to the ground and aimed, squeezing the trigger, the bullet backfired.

  Tossing the gun away, I dug my knees into his chest, seizing the razor from my hair.

  Ssicszh!

  I slashed through his neck, plashing blood to the floor.

  Fastening the clip back into my hair, I spun around, striking into the other gangster.

  He stumbled back as the other thug fired.

  I rolled up to a coffee stand.

  Clutching a cup of coffee, I dashed it in his face.

  “AAAAgaggaghhhh!!!” He bellowed, firing blindly.

  I tumbled over as the other gangster charged with various punches.

  I countered, kicking him in the face.

  He grabbed me with a bear hug, circling me around.

  I drop-kicked the other goon, knocking his gun to the floor.

  Sinking my stance out of the bear hug, I gripped the vandal’s wrist with my hands and slid between his legs.

  I stood fast, flipping him over my shoulder.

  He slammed to the ground.

  I bowled over him and towards the other thug as he grabbed his gun.

  While clearing his sight, I windmill kicked the gun from his hand. My second kick plastered him to the floor.

  The gangster behind me rushed with a series of blows.

  I turned with a front kick, thrusting his nasal bone into his brain.

  Cram!

  The accuracy killed on impact.

  The enraged coffee-faced thug squinted for clarity as he reached for his gun.

  I snatched the razor clip from my hair and sprinted into a roundoff.

  He fired in error as I somersaulted into a swan dive. Spreading my arms, I swished through his neck.

  Shissssh!

  Blood skeeted into my face like a sprinkler as I belly-flopped, rolling quickly to my feet.

  His jugular opened to my loathing.

  My hatred…

  The bitch failed tremendously as he plopped to the floor.

  Ranting in the zenith of discomfort was the ringleader, laying only a few feet away.

  I expected him to reach for his gun. But before he could seize the weapon, I skipped into a quick round-off and a backward salto.

  The aerials’ momentum planted my foot explicitly… fracturing his other wrist.

  “Aaaagggghhhh!!! You fucking bitch!” He screamed as I turned him over to his back, plonking my knees in his chest.

  I flipped his gun in the air.

  Catching the grip upended, I scraped the slide over the ground, cocking the bullet into the chamber. The motion ended with the barrel thrusting violently into his temple.

  “My house… at eight?” I simpered.

  From the sidelines, Woods nudged Lockley, who only stared in disgust.

  Just then, several agents rushed in to make their arrests.

  With blood on my face, I kissed the ringleader.

  The crowd muttered amongst themselves as I stood.

  “What the hell were you guys doing, playing with action figures?” I queried, walking over to Woods and wiping my face.

  “Goodrum told me you were good, but he didn’t tell me you were that good.” Woods asserted as he reached into his coat pocket.

  He gave me a handkerchief and an ID card.

  “Here,” he added with reverence.

  Lockley gawked with anger as he pointed with discord.

  “You're intolerable. Foolish. Your aggression, lack of structure, and stability will cost you your life. You and your actions are not acceptable. Furthermore, I can’t allow you to insist on such unpredictable impulses.”

  Am I gonna have to kick this fool’s ass?

  I could’ve sworn I just saved the day.

  “Yeah, I take some getting used to,” I declared as I took the handkerchief from Woods.

  “Oh yeah? I don’t get used to you. You get used to me!” He echoed as I walked away with self-admiration.

  Agent Woods accompanied me (not far from my side), and Loc
kley followed as we exited.

  “How’d you get this?” I asked, cleaning my face while analyzing my ID.

  “We know more about you than you think, Ms. Lawson,” said Woods as he opened the door for me.

  “Nooo…I mean, how’d you get my picture in here and all of these nice effects? It looks so professional.”

  As I passed through the doors, he looked down and spoke convincingly, “Photoshop.”

  The Hit List

  The ride into New York City was rough on the eyes.

  The poor had become more impoverished. The middle class seemed to be doing all the work while the wealthy floated around in their little hover cars. I mean, with the space lanes intermingling, finding our paths was a straight-up nightmare.

  Their roadways were higher in the sky and full of flashing lights and sensors. They had their own speed limit and their own fuel pumps. I could only smile at the advancements in technology from the back seat of Agent Woods’ vehicle.

  I couldn't afford a hover car. They were meant for the wealthy. I just wanted Horace Vaideen. And with the way things were looking, I’d be doing the world a favor by cleansing it of his filth.

  The agents obtained a discreet location for my briefing.

  Before convening there, we had to make a stop in the Bronx. Montefiore Medical. The morgue, actually. You know, I’ve been scarred so much until crying really irks me. But that visit, was probably the most saddening moment of my life.

  New York, NY: Lotte Palace

  Agent Woods pulled into the valet parking. He popped the trunk of the car as he got out, shutting the door behind him. He grabbed all of the bags from the trunk while Lockley surprisingly opened the door for me.

  “Agent Lawson, we need to talk,” he muttered.

  I stepped out of the car a bit doleful.

  “Whhhaaattttt?” I blurted with annoyance.

  Agent Woods walked over and gave me a key.

  “Twenty-third floor,” he announced as he proceeded through the sliding doors. I trailed in beside him as the valet patron drove off.

  But Lockley, he just rambled on and on in his mindless, critiquing babble.

  “You are reckless and very unprofessional. I belie-”

  “-Is it just me, or is your buddy the only one pointing fingers?” I turned to Woods, asking rudely.

  “It’s him,” replied Woods. “He’s one of those guys that’s always talking about the action but never living it.”