Blair

Chapter 3

"When you're right, you're right, Dani. I definitely don't want to kill this one," I basically drool while staring at a photo of Isaac Diaz, one of my multi-million dollar targets. With his deep blue eyes, dark brown hair, tattooed arms and short scruffy beard, I'd be lying if I said he isn't one of the hottest men I've ever seen.

"Maybe I could at least bang him before he dies. You know, take one for the team?" she mutters with a grin.

"As tempted as I am to fight you over a romp in the sack with him, you know we don't mix business with pleasure." I take the envelope from her hand to look at the rest of the information, briefly skimming the content and storing it away in my memory bank for later use.

"You also said you don't do contracts, yet here we are," she mutters.

"Well, fifteen million dollars is a pretty compelling argument to bend the rules a little," I grumble back. I flip Isaac's photo over and read the scribbled ink which has some brief information about him.

According to Smith's handwritten notes, Isaac was born on October 31st, 2020 making him 24 going on 25 years old and probably about one year younger than me. I don't remember my actual birthday, but I know I'm 25. Apparently he's resided in Colombia with his uncle, Diego Diaz, his entire life and the two of them live in the general Cartagena area. I shuffle his photo to the back of the thin stack of papers and move on to analyze the next picture featuring Diego Diaz. He's 49 years old and was born on November 2nd, 1995. Diego is handsome in a similar way to Isaac except his eyes are brown, his hair is black and he's obviously older. I ruffle through the remainder of the papers and find nothing but two plane tickets, a map of Cartagena and hotel accommodations. Based on the limited information Smith gave me, there really isn't much to go off of so I'll have to run a recon for a few days before making my move. I need to know exactly where they live, their routines, how frequently they go in and out of their living quarters, anything useful really. When I decide the time is right to take them out, it's got to be swift and flawless, and the best way to do that is to gather intel. Thankfully, obtaining information on people who don’t want to be found is one of the things I do best.

I shove the papers back into the envelope and safely in my jacket pocket as we exit the docks to head back towards our hotel. This wasn’t what I was expecting to happen when we showed up here for the exchange, but I can’t exactly say I’m disappointed in a fifteen million dollar payout. I feel confident in my ability to deal with any of the potential risks that come bundled into a contract. It’s disconcerting to be locked in place contractually, but I’ve dealt with far worse than Smith before.

I’ve dealt with the boogeyman.

•••

"Okay, esta es tu parada señoras," our Uber driver confirms as Dani and I prepare to exit the car.

"Gracias," I reply while pushing my door open. I step onto the sunny worn cobblestone street and reach into the trunk of the vehicle, handing Dani her suitcase before grabbing mine. We step up onto the curb and I raise my eyebrows, staring at yet another worn down hotel that we will be holed up in for god knows how long. The building is four stories tall and covered in chipping graffiti paint. It's crammed in between two other worn down buildings and all of the windows are fully open because I assume there is no air conditioning. Given our position in relation to the equator, it seems crazy to live without it since it’s hot as hell year round, but beggars can't be choosers. Fifteen million dollars to deal with no A/C is definitely worth it.

"Well this looks fun," Dani concedes with a sigh.

"It's certainly off the radar," I add, crossing the sidewalk to pull open the front door to the hotel. I approach the singular concierge desk and exchange a few words in Spanish with the young girl checking us in. She smiles at us and hands me our room key with the number 401 printed onto the front before Dani and I painstakingly make our way up four flights of outdoor stairs. The black, rusted wrought iron lining the stacked stairwell looks like it could crumble at any moment, so I make a mental note not to use it for support unless I’d like a tetanus shot. I roll my bag towards our room, the wheels clicking as they sweep across thatched, red Spanish tiles bleached by daylight. We finally arrive at room 401, and I’m just praying the exterior of this building isn’t reflective of what lies inside the room. I unlock and push the white painted door open, internally frowning when I see the condition of our room is just as bleak. Scuffed white walls, questionable white sheets, dirty white floor tile; it’s like the worst shades of white all came together in this singular room. I sigh as I flop my bag down onto one of the twin sized beds and a little mushroom cloud of dust drifts into the air.

Great, and I thought things couldn’t get any better.

I scrunch my nose and walk over to the wall, fully opening the window to flush out some of the stagnant air. The atmosphere outside is just as unforgiving as the one within the confines of these walls, but I need to get some sort of circulation to have any hope of sleeping at all over the coming days or weeks.

"So when can this recon start?" Dani inquires from the opposite bed.

"It starts right now," I respond while rifling through my bag for the documents that Smith gave me. I latch onto the manila envelope and withdraw the map, splaying it out on the stale sheets of my bed. Dani walks over to my side and looks down as I point my finger to a sizeable red circle that I drew on the plane ride over here. The red marker surrounds a clump of buildings I’ve determined to be a promising area that Diego and Isaac could reside. I did quite a bit of googling and research while Dani was passed out, and from the information I gathered, I believe I was able to narrow down our search to a diameter of about ten blocks.

"There is a cafe right in the center of this cluster of buildings, so let's get some food and start there," I instruct and Dani nods her head.

"Sounds good. After we get this fifteen million dollar payout, we should seriously consider taking a permanent break. It’s not like we will be hurting for money," she huffs while changing from her jeans into a pair of denim shorts.

"What if I don't want to take a break because I like my job?" I reply, changing into a pair of black denim shorts as well. It is far too hot and humid here to wear anything else.

"You're a f*****g assassin, Blair. This profession isn't some world-altering job and you've never turned down a single opportunity to kill someone." Dani turns to face me, her arms folded across her chest.

"You know that's not true. I turned down two that should ring a pretty big bell for you," I disagree. She closes her eyes and sighs loudly, pulling her hair up into a ponytail. She knows exactly who I’m referring to, she just doesn’t want to go down that black hole of a conversation because it never ends well. “Once this contract is over, you can go home and I'll take the additional clients alone," I offer with a shrug. Dani rolls her eyes and approaches me, grabbing onto my forearm to turn me so I'm facing her.

"That's not what I'm saying, B. I've agreed to all of this just as much as you have so it isn't a one-way street and I'm not leaving you to fend for yourself. You can't go into the AP without me for backup. Someone's got to be ready with the epinephrine in case Orias comes back," she retorts.

"We don't even know if the epinephrine theory will work, there's a large possibility that it won't," I counter.

"Well, it's better to have that as an option versus being stranded in the AP with no way out," she replies. I take a deep breath and nod my head in response, feeling relieved that she isn't immediately going to jump ship. Even though I know she wants nothing more than to go home, Dani won’t leave me to project without a failsafe.

Whenever I astral-project, waking me up is next to impossible. If I'm not near my physical body then I don't feel a thing. Not if someone shakes me, slaps me, throws me over their shoulder, nothing. Because of this, Dani and I have engraved, synced up digital watches that track my heart rate so she can keep an eye on any random spikes. There is also a built-in emergency button for me to tap while I'm in the AP to alert her if needed. As a failsafe, Dani also carries around a vial of liquid adrenaline to use as a last resort in the event that I hit the emergency button and need to be woken up. We've theorized that the sudden burst of adrenaline might forcefully yank my astral body back to my physical one, but the problem is that we've never had to use it before so we have no idea if it works or not. We know that the emergency alert system on our watches works, but casually injecting myself with epinephrine to see if our theory is viable is dangerous. It can lead to hypertension and heart problems, and I don't need to expose myself to those risks when it isn't necessary. It’s all purely hypothetical, so there is no point in forcing Dani to follow me to the ends of the earth based on speculation and at this point. I also haven't seen Orias in fifteen years, so there is a possibility he won’t ever come back. Even if he does show up again, I'd say I'm much more capable of defending myself now. I was just a kid the last time he materialized in my life, so my fear of him was amplified by immature age and irrationality. I understand where Dani is coming from and how much stress this portion of my life causes her, but I can’t give it up. I won’t give it up, not for her or anyone else.

I don’t want to do this all alone, but if I have to, I will.

•••

One week later

•••

"Alright B, are you ready to do this?" Dani questions from the bedside opposite of mine, tinkering with her watch to get the timer set. I wiggle myself around a little on top of the sheets and readjust my left and right thigh holsters, ensuring they are snugly in place.

"I'm ready when you are," I respond with a sigh.

We have spent the past seven days gathering all of the intel we possibly could on my two targets, but only one of them has proven to give me anything useful. I found out that Diego Diaz lives in a second floor apartment about six blocks away from our hotel and has a pretty predictable routine. He wakes up every morning and leaves around 7:00 AM, goes to work at a breakfast restaurant called Bella Tierra, comes home around 3:30 PM and then occasionally meets a few buddies at a string of bars for a beer or two before calling it a night. He seems completely harmless and his lights are always out by 10:00 PM, so I'd assume he is fast asleep by the time midnight rolls around.

Isaac on the other hand, has been completely MIA. I haven't seen him come in, out, or anywhere near Diego's apartment so he must not be living there. I've scoured all of Cartagena in search of where he might be residing but I've come up with absolutely nothing. It's as if he doesn't exist. I've even resorted to using an amplifier so I can listen in on Diego's phone conversations from across the street. It was in an effort to see if he and Isaac have been in contact, but it too has proven useless.

Plan A was to coax them both out into the AP at the same time to take them out simultaneously, but Isaac's lack of appearance has made me wary of approaching it that way. I don't like to assume anything about my targets unless I know for a fact that I am right, so I won't bring Isaac in when I know nothing about him. I don’t have any information on him and I have no idea where he is, which is enough for me to scrap Plan A.

Based on that hiccup, I decided to move on to Plan B which consists of me taking out Diego first in the hopes that his death will flush Isaac out. I don't know if he is in hiding, on vacation or just living somewhere else entirely, but I figured that when his uncle dies, he will be forced to come around. As far as I know, they have no other family besides each other so he will at least need to plan a funeral in the public eye. Once I physically see him, I'll be able to track his movements and eliminate him separately.

I take a deep breath and close my eyes, slowly letting my mind tune out all of the surrounding distractions. I focus on the breath flowing in and out of my lungs as I mentally begin separating my astral body from my physical one. My pulse calmly throbs in my ears and darkness surrounds me like a comforting fleece blanket.

Then, my eyes open.

I sigh into the dark foggy room, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. I quickly cross the scuffed white tiles and pull the door open, trotting down four flights of stairs and into the lobby of our hotel. I step out onto the hazy street and look left to right, ensuring that I don't see anything out of the ordinary. I hang a right once I'm sure the coast is clear and begin heading in the direction that I know Diego's apartment is located. At the fifth block, I cross the street and take a left down a narrow alleyway, noticing a young woman off to the side leaning against the wall. I redirect myself so that I am about five feet from her and quickly trot past while staring her down for signs of hostility. She's got a bloody bullet hole straight through the center of her forehead with long brown hair messily tossed around her face, but she isn't moving and doesn't notice me. Most of the deceased in here don't, for whatever reason. I feel a little bad because she's stuck in purgatory in the same condition she died, but I guess most of us will end up here anyway so at least she's not alone. If a spirit has any unfinished business or lacks the awareness that they have passed away, they can’t move on and could get stuck here far longer than they should. Most people don’t know this is a harsh reality before they cease to physically exist, but how could they? The general population either lives in blissful ignorance of the afterlife, or they choose to be unenlightened about it.

I hang one more right hand turn at the end of the alleyway and arrive directly in front of Diego's dark blue apartment building, standing about twenty feet away from the door. I take a deep breath and close my eyes as I begin envisioning his face in my thoughts. I picture all of his known features in my mind’s eye: his brown irises with fine lines rimming the edges of his gaze, short dark black hair, and aged tan skin. Once I've got nothing except the vision of his face in my head, I begin slowly whistling my creepy lullaby.

About five years ago, I discovered that the sound of my voice coupled with mentally envisioning my targets draws them to me like a moth to a flame. It pulls them out of their dream state and beacons them to me, lulling them into a soft sense of comfort.

The soothing sound of my voice begins to carry in the atmosphere all around me, drifting through the air in the form of a perfect melody. The way it dances across the astral atmosphere is angelic and captivating to the point where my targets can’t refuse. Most of them saunter towards me in a peaceful trance, probably believing they are about to have a life changing experience with a divine entity. But, that thought is quickly snuffed out once they see me waiting for them dressed in a black tank top, boots and jeans with multiple weapons strapped to my thighs.

As if right on cue, the sound of the door to Diego's apartment building swinging open cuts off my melody. My eyes shoot open as Diego and I stand face to face with him directly in front of the building’s door frame. I was expecting a look of terror on his face, but he doesn’t house one at all. He’s just smiling at me with his arms crossed as if he's been waiting for this to happen all along.

"I've been expecting you, Reaper," he grins with confidence in a thick Spanish accent.

"Well, here I am. I'd hate to disappoint you if I didn't show up," I motion my hands to myself with a smirk. I'm not sure how he knew I was coming for him, but I've got a feeling I'm about to find out.

"You won't kill me, mija," he snickers while nodding his head in an appreciative fashion.

"Won't I though?" I sarcastically retort through narrowed eyes. He shrugs his shoulders and begins slowly pacing back and forth as my fingertips skirt across the handle of the blade strapped to my thigh.

"You know, I've conducted quite a bit of my own underground research on the Reaper for the past few years. Interestingly enough, I found some undeniable connections between the Reaper and the Del Sur cartel. Andres Sanchez's son, Nico, died under very mysterious circumstances while he was the leader of Del Sur five years ago. Even more shocking to me was the random disappearance of six more Del Sur members shortly following his death. That was enough evidence for me to follow the steady trail of bodies right to Del Sur’s doorstep. I figured the Reaper was someone in the cartel, I just previously didn't know who they were or what they looked like. The key word here being I previously didn't know. You might have thought you were being smart because you could successfully avoid the feds, but the strange and steadily climbing body count was a dead giveaway. I might not know your real name, but I know enough to figure it out now. I know what you look like, what city you live in and that you are in Del Sur. I have the ability to make your life very difficult if I expose your identity and I can easily place a giant moving target on your back. Rival gangs and anyone on the black market would love to exploit that intel," he challenges. I glare at him for a moment as my stomach begins churning with anxiety. How did he possibly draw all of those connections?

"First of all, you don't know anything about what happened with Nico. He was a worthless piece of s**t and he got what he deserved. Secondly, your years of research endeavors don't matter because you won't live to tell another soul anything about me. People don't interact with me in the AP and survive." If this asshole honestly believes he can intimidate me into backing down and sparing his life, he is an i***t. I call the shots in here, not him.

"That's assuming I haven't already told someone else everything I know about you," he sneers.

"Someone like your nephew, Isaac?" I coldly snap as his face drops. Without warning, Diego takes off through the door of his apartment building. I sprint directly behind him as he throws himself up the steps as quickly as he can, but I am faster and I catch him by the ankle with my right hand halfway up the stairwell. My fingers dig into his skin and yank him backwards, causing him to slam down onto the steps with a thud. He jerks his foot forward in an effort to release himself from my grip, causing me to tighten my hold in response. Before I have time to withdraw my knife, he takes his left foot and drives it into the center of my chest, kicking me backwards down a few of the steps. All of the air is shoved from my lungs as I land on my back with a gasp. He takes my temporary incapacitation as his window of opportunity to escape and he scrambles on his hands and knees back up the stairwell.

"Son of a bitch..." I groan while trying to catch my breath. I shove myself off of the ground and frantically dart up the stairs behind Diego. He rounds the landing on the second floor and flings a door open that most likely leads to his apartment. He slams the door shut behind him in an effort to bar me from reaching him, but I quickly bring my right leg up to my chest and kick it inward with little effort. The door flies open and I see Diego backing across the cluttered living room towards the bedroom door. Before he is able to make it there, my hand shoots down to my right thigh and yanks my knife out of its holster. I hurtle it across the room with a yell as it impales his forearm, pinning him to the wall while he screams out in pain. He attempts to rip the knife out of his arm with his free hand, but I quickly withdraw the second knife from my left holster. In a fraction of a second, it pierces the center of his left palm, wedging the end into the crumbling drywall so his body is stuck in two places.

"I'll give credit where credit is due, Diego…you have definitely given me more of a run for my money than any other target has," I declare while breathing heavily, my hands planted on my hips. I reach into my back pocket and grab my switchblade, popping it open with a flick as I cross the room in Diego's direction.

"Vete al infierno, Reaper," Diego spits at me through sweat laden brow, his breath coming out in short bursts. I angrily grab his face in my hand and glare at him, the moisture in his stubble melting into my fingertips.

"I already have a one-way ticket there, pendejo. Unfortunately for you, it isn't my time just yet," I reply as I jab the tip of my switchblade up against his jugular. I hate that this entire scenario has already played out much longer than it should have. Just as I'm about to end all of this right here and now so I can earn half of the bounty I'm owed, the atmosphere thickens with the presence of another body. I can practically feel someone assaulting me with their eyes about fifteen feet behind me.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," I hear a man’s dark, brooding voice demand. I narrow my eyes at Diego before I whip myself around and hurtle the switchblade in the direction of the unfamiliar presence. Before it penetrates the shadows, he swiftly ducks out of the way and my blade drives into the hallway wall. I hear Diego let out a scream as he forcefully wrenches his left hand free. My knife clatters to the floor and he quickly kicks the back of my legs. He pulls the other knife out of his forearm as I fall to my knees simultaneously.

"Salir de aqui, Diego!" I hear the other man bellow while he makes his way in my direction. I roll over with an angry growl and grab my matte black knife off of the floor as Diego darts into the bedroom.

"Damnit!" I scream as I scramble off of the ground to follow. I'm hoping that I can kill him before he reaches his physical body, but I feel a strong hand grip onto my back belt loop and forcefully yank me backwards before I can even take a step. I watch in slow motion as Diego frantically lowers himself down onto his body before completely disappearing from sight. I yell out in anger as I throw my right elbow upwards and back, connecting hard with the unknown man’s face. He stumbles backwards just enough so I have the chance to flip my body around and kick him square in the stomach. He falls onto the ground from the impact and I quickly jump on top of him, ramming my forearm into his throat. I spin my knife in my right hand and forcefully press it against his trachea with the intention of killing him on the spot, but instead of acting like my usual careless self, I find myself doing nothing. I stare down at him with a perplexed gaze, studying all of his features as he does the same to me. Finally, it dawns on me who this person is.

This is Isaac Diaz, and his picture definitely didn't do him justice.

His short scruffy beard has a small amount of blood in it from where my elbow clipped him in the jaw, his dark brown hair is ruffled from our volatile interaction and his piercing blue eyes bore holes into my green ones as we both breathe heavily. My eyes flicker down to my left hand side and I notice that he's got his own knife angled upwards to stab my ribcage, but he hasn't made his move yet either. We sit like this for a moment without saying a word, clearly in a standoff with one another. I finally feel Isaac lower his knife from my side until I hear the sound of it clattering to the wood floor. He slowly raises his hands up to either side of his head, trying to show me that he's unarmed and not going to kill me anymore.

This is my chance to take at least one of the two Diaz's out. I should ram my knife into his throat, get my kill-con and not even give his death a second thought, but I don't.

I f*****g don't.

"Pick your knife back up, pendejo," I angrily demand, hoping he will give me a reason to change my stupid mind.

"No. If you want to kill me, go ahead and do it," he replies with that same enticing voice that hits my brain in all the right places.

"Eres un idiota," I spit back at him, pressing my knife into his throat a little harder. He doesn't even flinch from the added pressure, he just continues staring at me with his hands raised. I bite my bottom lip while palm shakes, tightly closing my eyes for a brief moment. I can sense my rationality and conscience savagely fighting one another.

One is telling me to kill him and just end this entire ordeal now, but the other voice is louder; it’s overwhelming and drowning out any hope of me making the smart decision.

I take a deep breath and my eyes shoot back open, staring down at him as I gradually release my forearm from his neck. I take my left hand and grab onto his hair before bringing my knife up and cutting a lock of it off. I place the blade of my knife in between my teeth and reach into my front pocket, withdrawing the kill-con vial. I stuff his hair into the small glass container and re-cork the top, shoving it back into my pocket so I can get the hell out of here. I lean over to his left and grab my other knife off of the floor, securely placing it into its holster. I un-straddle him and jump off of the ground while slowly backing away, removing my knife from in between my teeth.

"I swear to god if I ever see you or Diego again, I will kill you. If any information leaks out about my identity, again, I will hunt you down and kill you. Got it?" I seethe as I gradually shuffle backwards towards the door.

"Duly noted," he replies while sitting himself up. I grit my teeth slightly before reaching back to pull my switchblade out of the hallway wall. Without another thought, I turn on my heel and take off down the stairs, throwing open the door to the apartment building. I sprint out into the mist and hang a hard right in the direction of my hotel so I can get back to my body.

God I'm an i***t. I'm a giant f*****g i***t.

As an assassin, I have a strict set of five rules that I follow in order to keep myself alive:

Rule number five: no relationships. That one proves to be far easier for me to adhere to than I care to admit. Contrary to popular belief, I'm not exactly girlfriend material and most men can't handle me. Plus, I've been accused of being heartless more times than I can count and I haven't met anyone who particularly piques my interest.

Number four: don't eat banana runts. Ever since I can remember, even looking at them grosses me out. Don't ask why this is a thing for me because I can honestly say I have no idea.

Number three: always take your birth control on time. This one is imperative because I absolutely cannot bring a child into this world. If that kid shares even a sliver of my DNA, it will end up being a walking disaster like yours truly.

Number two: do not fall in love under any circumstance. Love will lead to weakness, and weakness will lead to getting killed. I very much enjoy my life and the way it's been going (up until tonight), so I really don't want to die in the name of an entirely irrational feeling. Love is nothing more than a compilation of chemical reactions, hormones and stupid decisions.

Finally, we arrive at the most important number on the list.

Number one: Do not let anyone live who can identify me. This is the most imperative rule and I just knowingly broke it: letting people live who know what I look like and what I've done is a huge no-no. I keep myself off the radar as much as humanly possible and I put only my two most trusted friends (Dani and Sam) at the forefront to be my physical body. They represent me at all times and are integral pieces in keeping my identity a secret. Members of Del Sur know I'm high ranking, but they don't know that I am the infamous Reaper. Anyone that's discovered who I am in the astral world doesn't live to tell another soul.

Well, at least no one had until now.

After what feels like an eternity I finally see my dilapidated, graffiti-laden hotel building come into frame. I enter through the front door and make it up to the fourth floor in record time. I kick the door to our room open and throw myself back down onto my body so I can wake up. I feel the internal panic at what I just allowed to happen beginning to settle in and I desperately need to talk to Dani.

I screwed up horribly.

Just like every other time, my spiritual body and physical one become a whole piece once again. They fuse together and my eyelids begin peering into the world of the living. My head jerks to the side as Dani anxiously paces back and forth next to the bedside with the vial of epinephrine and a syringe in her hand. As soon as she sees that I'm awake, a wave of relief floods her face. She drops the vial and needle, throwing herself onto the bed while hugging my sweat drenched body tightly, her breathing quick and labored.

"Oh my god B, I thought that...Jesus, I thought that Orias was back! Your heart rate spiked for entirely too long but you didn't tap the emergency signal on your watch so I didn't know what to do. Are you okay? What happened?" she demands with worry before backing away from me.

"We have a problem Dani…a really big one," I reply while panting.