The Hitman and His Consort

LXII - Delay

First Person P.O.V: VALENTIN HACKSAW

“Mhmm, you set my heart at ease too, babushka, it must be a trait of yours,” I replied making her scowl, as she finally gestured for me to follow her to the cashier, and carry the stuff she bought. The cashier looked at us with a curious stare for a mere minute until she gently takes what we brought and runs it under the scanner.

*“Have you had breakfast?”* she asked in a casual change of topic,

Ignoring that I definitely just paraded to her that I’m an actual asshole, old habits die hard and I think one of my freshly built covers/walls to make me seem like an average guy melted away the moment I left my house. But to answer her question, I shook my head.

“No, I haven’t, I’m planning to go downtown, but I forgot my wallet,” I answered and she glared at me and slapped my arm with hardly any strength,

*“You left her alone and with no food?”* she scolded, visibly upset and disappointed. Years passed—actually, in my whole life of seeing that expression, it still brings me great disdain, but to calm her down I shook my head,

‘I wouldn’t leave her with no food, assuming her appetite didn’t change. That’d be just enough,’

I scoffed and sucked in smoke once we got out of the store, “Of course not, I’m pathetic, maybe, but not cruel,” I defended and she huffed before bringing out her wallet and handing the whole thing to me.

I looked at her face to see her sneer at me, *"Take a damn breather," she noted, taking the grocery bags from my arms and setting them down on the sidewalk, *"I already called a cab, you go do your thing, come back and hopefully, treat her like she's more than 'just Arthur',"* she droned,

I huffed as I exhaled a cloud of smoke, "You were really hung up on that one, huh?" I asked, and she also puffed out a huff of smoke,

"Beat it," she merely spat, and I chuckled as I did,

What kind of person gives their whole wallet when someone you want to lend someone money? Babushka’s not even trying to hide that she’s no average citizen. Got back to the bus stop that’s empty now. When’s the next bus coming? Oh right, never.

‘F*ck’

Okay, what’s my next move, the next bus stop is another kilometer, I’m not sure if I have the five and the patience to run to that again, and weighing my options out I don’t think I have another choice than doing just that. I took a deep breath and stretched my legs before I started jogging. What'S the time? I don’t want to jog all the way to the f*cking city if I could help it.

I couldn’t bring my phone with me at least? Damned f*cking emotional I stability, if I wasn’t bitching about this wouldn’t have happened. I still don’t want to go back though, not until I’m dead tired to even think and just forget this day even happened. I don’t even know how I’ll face Arthur after this.

But for some reason, I think I’ll be pissed when I see her again, not at her…. well, maybe a bit with her. She deserves every right to love someone else other than me. I’ve already established that in the past five years, so I’ll give her the consideration due, but I’ll still be pissed in general because I will remember that scene again and—see, it makes me angry.

I’m starting to enter the denser parts of the city and see people going about their days and minding their business, it’s not as crowded and annoying as San Francisco since it’s cold as hell and people don’t just want to hang around outside if they can help it, still are these people that will want to go outside regardless of weather, but even those usually crawl out of their houses close to evening.

I passed others who were also doing morning shopping. Why? I don’t know, who wants to be productive first thing in the morning? If I didn’t have work, I would’ve slept until noon, I’d admit that I’d definitely lost the drive that I originally had, but whenever I take note of that I just lie to myself and say that it’s because I’m getting old, knowing that it’s not enough reason.

And I know sure as hell that I’m pretty much keeping myself in proper shape, it’s just my only solution to not feel bored is to incapacitate myself to feel so, if I’m asleep I wouldn’t exactly feel anything, not even the self-doubt that I’ve cultivated in my free time that I had in abundance after the first three years that I’ve spent looking for my parents.

’I was too much in and over my head thinking that would be a small-time gig’

Maybe somewhere along the line, I forgot that an actual sector of the government was doing their best to look for my parents and failed, which lasted for eight years until they gave up.

But back to the running, I was starting to get some stares, and I even got to hear some whispering and notes, some people look like they were amused and some just look at me like I’m stupid, I could hear words like ‘why?’, ‘Very determined’, and ‘the target ran away we’ll need to find where the brown American b***h brought her to’—

‘…hold up,’

What the f**k was that?

I paused in my tracks and pretended to pant and look around as I rest my legs, trying to listen in on their conversation. You could call this wrong, but this is righteous eavesdropping. I did think they were talking about Arthur at the moment when they said brown American, but that’s only because I’ve had her in my head the whole time, but thinking about that now, that’s probably not the case.

She just got here anyway, she wouldn’t just leave the house and get into trouble right off the bat.

*“What does she look like?”* asked a man with a healthy blonde beard, I’ll be calling this guy Beard,

*“Dark brown hair, or black I think, more or less around 160cm, kind of oriental features,”* answered another with almost zero facial hair. This one I’ll call Baldy,

*“Yeah, she looks like one of them… uh, the Asian ones that look like they’re not Asian?”* Another guy said, and he has no distinct features at all like pain bread, so I, therefore, christened him Blank,

‘Giving a new meaning to BBB, Beard, Baldy, and Blank,’

*“What the f*ck is with that ambiguous description?”* Beard hissed,

'Yeah, no kidding,'

*“No, no, she’s… uh, one of those the feeli—fayli—I used to work with one of those guys,”* Blank trailed off fumbling on his words

*“No one f*cking asked! But all in all, American, tan skin, dark brown or black hair, it’s messy as hell, like a bird’s nest and whoever she is, she can fight,”* Baldy noted,

‘Are you f*****g kidding me—THEY ARE TALKING ABOUT ARTHUR!’

I sucked in a deep breath as I pinched the bridge of my nose. How did it even turn out like that? What did she do? It hasn’t been a few hours yet, what the hell is happening here. I shifted on my feet and tried to get a little closer and in return, their voices got a little softer, but everyone seemed angry so they couldn’t whisper properly.

*“What do we do about this? If that b***h files a report we’ll get in trouble with the boss,”* Blank asked, they better be talking about some other woman,

*“Forget the boss right now you, moron, we need to find that b***h and bring her back, she’s not worth anything dead,”* Beard answered,

‘sounds like a big deal,’

*“What do we do about the woman?”* Blank chided and I suppose by that she means Arthur,

One of the men scoffed, *“Get rid of it, what else, where did they run off to?”* Beard guy asked, finally getting their act together, their voices getting softer as they try to be more covert.

*“They go cornered into some alley and but they got beat up the other guys said that one of them got a broken leg and the other with a broken arm, they’re probably making their way to the city now,”* Baldy informed, sounds like Arthur didn’t pull any punches.

*“How f*cking convenient for the rest of us, head to the city then, where would should we even start once we get there?”* Beard groaned, massaging his temples,

*“…her house,”* Baldy muttered,

*“Her house? Are you an i***t? Of course, she wouldn’t go there,”*

*“But she has a kid didn’t she?”*

*“What are you trying to say?”*

*“Let’s bait her out with her kid, we find the kid and we won’t have to find her, she’ll find us,”* Baldy explained and I nodded because finally, someone has a working brain in this operation—wait s**t, that’s bad, I’m supposed to be against them. I need to do something and un-rope Arthur out of this big mess that she managed to put herself into—how is the question here.

After some intense nodding to each other, like the idea was a group effort and not an individual showcase of intellect, they moved on and flagged down a taxi, seems like taxis were starting to drive around too, it’s must’ve been around 11 AM or 12 PM now since it’s a bit brighter and the streets were considerably a bit more crowded, people are starting to pour in.

I also flagged one down. I still haven’t had breakfast but now I have to protect a child of a woman I don’t even know because Arthur decides she’ll be up in someone else's business, and for what? Sh*t—I wouldn’t do this with an empty stomach if I don’t love her so damn much.

*“Follow that car,”*

*“I…I don’t think I’m up for this—”*

*“Follow that car, or twelve babies are going to die”*

*“Then shouldn’t we just call the poli—”*

*“FOLLOW THE DAMN CAR, MAN!”* I yelled, throwing cash on his dashboard and that was enough to convince him it seems because he floored it and followed the car that I feared was getting too far ahead for us to catch up. I did tell him to pause to keep some distance. I don’t want them to take notice of us this early in the f*cking game.

Well, I guess I got what I’m looking for, just makes me a bit upset that it had to be caused by Arthur and now she’s in danger, how much danger? I couldn’t tell since she did seem like she just knocked out two men already.

'And none of these guys makes me feel remotely scared,'

We arrived at a big apartment hotel. Whoever that woman is that they’re after, have some cash because this place is known for being unnecessarily expensive.

‘I’ll ask for compensation from her after this,’

I got off the taxi and followed them as they walked, here’s a clear demonstration about the place being so unnecessarily expensive, they don’t even have security, all there is a fancy marble counter and a well-dressed dainty looking receptionist who looks like she’s also paid to smile because no one is Russia smiles this much, come on.

*“Can I help you?”* the receptionist asked and I just waked ahead to the elevator so it won’t look like I’m following them so obviously,

*“What room is Fiona Madrid in?”* Beard asked,

‘They know what building she lives in, but not the room? I mean understand, I guess, but how do they even know this place?’

The receptionist’s smile wavered, but she took in a deep breath to maintain her composure, *“Please wait and let me check her name, while I do can you please identify your relationship with her?”* she started and the men exchanged looks,

*“We’re her brother-in-law’s,”* Beard answered again, and the receptionist nodded as she checked a few things on her computer. During that, I pressed the elevator button,

She smiled and looked up to the men, *“Alright, now if you just give me your names? I’ll call her up and inform her of your arrival, it’s the building policy,”* she said, and I smirked. That’s tough, what’s their next move now—oh, a gun.

That was fast.

*“Tell me the floor and the room… I don’t want to blow that pretty face of yours off,” Beard man warned,

*“Fourth floor, room number 298,”* she said with a whimper, just in time that the elevator arrived and I immediately boarded and closed it, not giving them a chance to ride with me.

“I’ll learn to be careful when I wish for after this,”