Testing Vickie

Chapter Eleven

I stare at the gun, the mask and myself in the mirror across from me. I move to take the mask off but it doesn’t budge. The gun had the word ‘forever’ inscribed in it. I slip my ring of to compare and it is identical to the ring. I drop the gun and it clatters on the floor.

“What’s going on in there?” A gruff voice calls.

“N- Nothing.” I whimper back, slightly scared. But of what? The gun or him? Or both. Could totally be both?

“I’m coming in there.” The door blasts open and a large man enters. He’s probably in his middle forties with greying brown hair. A pot belly sneaking out from under his shirt, too loose up top and too tight down below. The jeans he wore were greasy and dirty, as if they’d been handling cars. “Hello? Earth to Vickie?”

“Uh? Sorry what?” I flush a little eyes dropping.

“Your next target?” He says, leading me to a million questions. I settle on:

“Is?”

“The person who kills your fiancé?”

“Oh, right. Them.”

“Now, its 4 days before it actually happens and I’ve found out who it is. It’s an Asian bloke, really lean. Only tried to face him once and look how that turned out.” He gestures to his lower leg and I raise my eyebrow. He merely raises his jeans to reveal a prosthetic which makes more questions instead of answering them.

“Um,” I completely forgot that I don’t even know this person’s name.

“Tom.” He says, recognising the signalling in my eyes.

“Right, uh Tom. Do you have a profile on this man?”

“Do I have a profile?” He looks slightly bewildered at me. “Of all the people to ask about a profile. Sometimes I question if I know you Vickie. You came to me in the first place asking about this dude. I have an entire room dedicated to him.” That doesn’t sound creepy at all. “Ugh, come on. Off to the Kenji Room.”

I follow Tom through the dimly lit hallways and grimace at the state of the floor. “There’s a reason we don’t light this place properly Ms Bones.”

Suddenly I flashback. Something like a sense of déjà vu. I remember going up an elevator, talking to a lady called, Janette? Tom casually calling her a w***e and telling me to follow him. Me commenting on the state of the floor then Tom saying ‘There’s a reason we don’t light this place properly Ms Bones.’

Thinking about it I laugh a little and Tom looks around at me and just says: “Someone who is masked in a black masquerade mask laughing looks a little strange.”

“Really?” I raise my eyebrow. Raising the gun that is still plastered to my hand, I aim it at him and chuckle. “How about now?”

“Mmmm, still a little strange considering how short you are and how much taller I am than you. I mean, I am legitimately looking down on you aiming a gun at me. Not at all very intimidating.”

“Ugh, shut up and just take me to the Kenji Room please.”

“Such manners for a short, short tempered girl.” Tom opens the door to a white room with paper strewn over the three desks at three of the walls. On the fourth was a rotating board. One side a corkboard, the other a whiteboard. The corkboard had a photo of Kenji, a lean Asian man it a black t-shirt and black jeans. His hair was long enough to cover over his face.

“Why did he go after Nick?” I try to hide my emotions, reminding myself that in this world, he’s alive.

“No idea. I guess you’ll have to find out. Speaking about that. Tomorrow or well, in about 5 hours, you’re gonna have to move into surveillance and watch Nick’s movements to find Kenji.”

“Sure. Should be a piece of cake.”

“You know you really stand out in that skimpy little white dress right?”

“Yep. It shouldn’t matter anyway though. Because if I remember what you have taught me, no one will see me.”

“Yes well, I also taught Kenji so good luck.” I stare up at him, cold, hard and calculating.

“I don’t need luck, I need knives, a gun and a killer staff.” He laughs and goes off to the weapons room to find my supplies.

When Tom returns, he has a small belt with daggers strapped to it, few more daggers for other places to be hidden, a plain wooden staff and a gun holder for the one I have still in my hand. I finally let go of it and suit up.

As I suit up I count all the blades Tom gave me. One, two, fifteen!? Fifteen on the belt. Wow. He handed me an additional five to hide, one for each foot, another for each arm and an extra for my inner thigh. I’m probably going to cut myself at some point. I strap the gun holder on and feel the extra weight on my right side. Now I understand how people who have guns walk with such swagger. Gripping the smooth staff I give it a whirl as I show Tom with a flourish.

“Harty har. Very scary.” Give me a break please Tom. I snatch a knife from the belt and fling it at him. It nicks off a bit of his nose and lands in the corkboard. “Oh horror!” He says in a falsetto voice, mimicking the daughters from Pirates of Penzance.

“Harty har. Very funny.” I say, reversing his words back onto him.

“Eaugh, I’m done with you. Off you go on your grand adventure. I’d say good luck but all you’ll need is knives, a gun and a staff so happy hunting.” I flash him a wolfish grin and climb up the vent and disappear.