Three For A Wedding

Chapter Three

Chapter Three.

I had this system you see, a system of getting exactly what I wanted out of people, and also out of life. It had never failed, and I didn’t see it failing any time in the future either. At this exact moment, I was sat in a car that I had rented under a false name and paid for in cash. It was a nondescript, dark green Ford Focus. The road in front of me was empty, it was a quiet little cul-de-sac, and it was nice and easy to find somewhere where I could be inconspicuous. There was a gated lane that led into a wood that dog walkers used, so there were always cars coming and going from a couple of parking spaces in front of the gate.

I made sure I was sat comfortably in my chair, pushing it back, so I looked like I was just someone having a nap in the car. The file I was working on was on my knee and I had a pair of binoculars in my hand. I was looking to the right where the house I had been watching for the last few days was. I wanted this whole thing to go exactly as I had planned it with the client who had hired me to do it.

I don’t have what you would call a conventional job. What I do isn’t classed as normal in the slightest. The pleasure of working from nine in the morning until five at night, like most, was not something I came across very often with my chosen occupation. Getting to go home to a family or an early dinner was not something I had ever foreseen for myself either.

I do, however, get to work the hours that I choose to work. This is one of the many great things about being my own boss. The fact I could say yay or nay to a client if I wanted the freedom to travel the world when I felt like it, or the joy of finishing at three in the morning and sleeping all day before going out for a night out at one of the clubs and bars near to wherever I am staying, I could spend my time how I want.

I go by many names, so many that some days, so many that some days I can’t even remember what the given name my mother gave me when I was born, God rest her soul. If it wasn’t for my trusty little notebook that never leaves my body and has every single name I have ever used and every client I have ever had, I wouldn’t have survived this long. I always make sure that I am one step ahead of everyone else. Many people would kill to get their hands on that list of names. The list is full of my kills.

Yes, that’s right, my kills. I am, after all, a contract killer. I get paid obscene amounts of money to kill people. I am at the top of the food chain, answering only to myself. I am God, it is in my hands as to whether you live or die.

The price of the jobs which I offer varies depending on what the client wants. A shot to the head or the heart is cheap. I say cheap, but in the scheme of it all, it’s not all that cheap, it’s the cheapest way to end somebody’s existence. One quick shot and it’s over and done with. It is also the safest way for me as I can execute it from afar and be cleared up and gone before anyone even knows what had happened.

The woman who had hired me for this one had hired me for one of my more expensive packages. She wants me to take this one out from up close and personal. This kill means that I have to do this whilst the target is sleeping. This isn’t the first time I have worked for this rich widow. I am, in fact, the reason why she is a rich widow in the first place, and she is also the reason I fled to Canada all those years ago.

She had found me in the terminal bar and grill at the airport where I had left her clues to my location. It was one of the few times in the last week that I had been sober as well.

The job I had taken on for her all those years ago, I had managed to royally f**k it up and nearly missed my target completely all because of one stupid little mistake. That damned girl, it had been all her fault. She wasn’t supposed to be there with him that day, and my client had decided not to inform me of it. I hadn’t noticed the girl standing there watching my every move until it was too late.

Something had shone out of the corner of my eye, something which had caught the sunlight and reflected it in my eye just as I took the shot. The shock had registered when I saw her crouched in the doorway, and my shot had gone wild. I needed to get out of there quickly before the cavalry arrived. I had taken the kill, but I now needed to make myself scarce for a while in case the girl could pick me out. Personally, I had wanted to kill her, wanted to end her life as soon as possible, but the mother had promised me that she would sort it out. It still didn’t stop me from leaving, just to be on the safe side of things for a bit of time. More for my own peace of mind than anything else. The rich widow was the sole reason I was now sitting here again. Unfortunately, I couldn’t turn her down, not because of what she was asking of me. I would have been an absolute i***t to have said no to this one. Not only had the woman picked my pricier options, but she had also agreed to pay the asking fee as well as another fifty per cent on top of that. This woman had more money than sense, and this wasn’t even the best part of it all. She had sweetened the deal further still. She didn’t hire me to knock just one-off, not even two. No, she had hired me to take out seven people, all in different ways, all giving me new challenges. The money she would be paying me to complete this would set me up for the rest of my life and then some. I could retire after this and would never have to worry again. I mean, after all, I am not getting any younger.