by Guy Harrison
***
After enjoying an authentic Cuban sandwich and fries from the sub shop across the street, Nick Hamilton showers and relaxes on his bed, watching Family Guy reruns. The time is 8:21.
I wonder what Calvin and Elena ate.
He laughs at himself. He knows what he’s trying to do. He can’t trick his own mind into not thinking about tomorrow’s mission. He’s found it funny just how enthusiastically the three of them have taken to their task. Most people would be shaking in their boots.
A knock at the door.
Nick uncovers himself, climbs out of bed and walks toward the door, wearing boxers and an undershirt. He looks in the peephole before opening the door—it’s Kevin Stewart. He stands alone in the hallway, his hands in the pockets of his jeans.
Nick opens the door. “Hey, Calvin. What’s up?”
“We need to talk. Can I come in?”
“Uh, yeah. Sure.”
Calvin enters and walks past the TV at the front of the room as Nick closes the door.
“So, what’s going on?” Nick says.
“It’s Elena.”
“Yeah?”
Calvin goes to the window and looks down at the parking lot below. “Look,” he says, waving for Nick to join him.
“What’s wrong?”
With Nick now standing half a step behind him, Calvin turns and thrusts his right hand into Nick’s midsection. Nick’s jaw drops, his breath quickly escaping him. Calvin thrusts once more, bringing Nick to his knees. Calvin then pulls back, bringing his knife with him. Nick’s blood drips loudly on the carpet.
“Why?” Nick says, holding the wound.
“You’re in the way.”
Nick falls on his side and rolls onto his back, staring up at Calvin. The carpet surrounding Nick turns a dark shade of brown.
Calvin gags as he holds his bloodied knife like a dead rodent. “Yuck. The worst.” His victim’s eyes staring up blankly at him, he nudges Nick with his feet before kneeling down next to his prey’s lifeless body and sliding his eyelids closed. He then pulls out his phone and dials a number. “Justice will be done.”
“Very well,” says a British voice. “To what do I owe this call?”
“I eliminated one of them, sir.”
“One?”
“I can’t find the other two. I apologize.”
“Do what must be done, then,” the man says. “You’ve become one of my most trustworthy agents. My faith rests with you.”
“Yes, sir. Justice will be done.”