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My eighth and last contract
#WritcoStoryPrompt40
The Blast. The noise was too loud, almost as if someone was using a drill machine in his head. He craned his head to relieve the cramp in his neck. When he couldn't move he realised where he was; in a coffin deep in the confines of an airplane. The blast had a huge impact on the row ahead and behind him. It was as planned. He should be dead any minute. I just have to collect my souvenir and leave the place. After all this will be my last contract. The blast had blown the spectacle glass to bits but the frame was still intact. It was twisted in wildways but it will do. I picked it up and moved towards the emergency exit. I felt an arm grab my legs. It was a young man who lost his legs. He needed my help to reach the exit. I wrenched free from the grip and exited the plane. Mission Accomplished.
One month before the blast. I woke up at 4 A.M. as usual. I like the peace and quiet that comes with that hour. After finishing my morning business, I started my physical workout. First, the warmup. Next, the 10 k run. After that some weights. Finally cool down. It takes about 90 minutes for me to finish this. If you haven't noticed I am obsessed with time and sticking to it. After shower and breakfast, I sat down to work. I spend most of my time researching for a novel that I wanted to write but it never materialised. Still it was a good way to spend the time. Around noon I checked my encrypted mailbox. For some time I haven't received any contracts. That was both good and bad. I wanted to retire a while ago. I had made sufficient amount of money to survive an apocalypse in my bunker. Still, for sake of completeness I wanted to complete my eighth contract. To my disappointment there were no messages. Just before I closed the mailbox a new message arrived. My heart began to race. Nothing is more interesting than the clients first message.
"Greetings Master. Your contract if you choose to accept it is to neutralize Balrog. The payment will be made via cryptocurrency as soon as you accept the contract. I trust you. PS I am willing to double the payment if you can make it dramatic. - Caesar"
Caesar has been my trusted broker. He made sure he sent the interesting and high paying contracts to me. I typed one word "Y" and hit the send button. I didn't have to check whether the payments has arrived. It is Caesar's job to worry about that.
I know Balrog was famous and upcoming politician. I am not interested in politics a lot. I had learnt to live without it interfering with my life much. My wife on the other hand is a journalist. She is a big fan of him and believes that this "Balrog" can transform our country for good. Too bad for him. They had hired the best to terminate him. He will have no idea what hit him. I prefered to finish my contracts within a month. I need a plan. Something more than a plan a statement. This is my eighth and last contract. My contracts always make headlines. This has to be more than headlines. Cesar also mentioned the pay will be double if I make it dramatic. That will be two birds with one stone.
Most people think successful hitmen like me work alone. That is entirely wrong. I have a big team of freelancers who do small jobs for me without the knowledge of the big picture. I made requests to hundreds of detective agencies to give me a report on Balrog. I compiled that information and filtered the important details that were validated by several agencies. In a couple of days I knew more about him than his mother or his wife. I observed that he was frequently shuttling between several cities for political rallies. He flew economy class and pre-booked his tickets. It immediately struck me I had to kill him in a plane. I couldn't stop fantasizing about it.
Four hours before the blast. I boarded the plane under an alias. Infact I had four aliases and 2 disguises for that day. Transporting the bomb was simple. I slipped several parts of the bomb to unsuspecting passengers. The mules should not have any issues because the substance and quantity they were carrying were just below the threshold required for detection. Besides the staff working the midnight shift do not bother innocent looking people a lot. Once on board I retrieved all the items and assembled the bomb in the toilet. I had booked one seat right behind Balrog's I sat there and placed the bag containing the bomb under his seat. Everything was going smoothly as expected until I saw my wife on the plane. She told me she was travelling that day but not on this flight to that place at such an hour. She was seated in the blast radius. I have to escort her before I trigger the bomb. I needed a plan immediately.
Two minutes before the blast. I thought of several plans but nothing seemed to work out best. I decided to go with my guts. I triggered the bomb. I had but two minutes. I walked up to my wife. She was sleeping so were most of the passengers. The plane was descending and we were above the sea. The landing was due in another fifteen minutes. I gently touched her shoulders.
“Hey Miss.” I said in a fake and broken accent. “Are you journalist Aria?”
She woke up from her sleep. She was confused.
“Did she recognise me?” I asked myself. “That should be impossible.”
By now I had but 30 seconds. She nodded and said “What?”
“I have something important to tell. Can we talk near the galley?” I said. This line has almost always worked with aspiring journalists. She unbuckled her belt and rose.
I was counting, I had ten seconds. We began to walk towards the galley. I wanted to set the pace but she walked in a relaxed manner as usual.
I knew that we will not be at a safe distance before the blast. Just before the explosion. I quickly turned around and grabbed her and pinned her to the floor.
I don’t remember most of the things that happened after the blast. The plane made an emergency landing on the sea. I grabbed a souvenir and escaped from the plane. I was admitted to a hospital from where I escaped as soon as I learnt that my wife is safe and the target was neutralized.
Forty years later. My wife and I were sitting in our drawing room playing with our grandchildren. A couple of police officers walk into my home. I did not expect that the least.
“Sir you are under arrest for the assisnation of politician named Balrog.” one of the officers said.
In the next few weeks the officers produced all the evidence that linked me to the death of Balrog and the seven people I killed before him. There was no room for doubt. I began to wonder how all of this happened. Before I was sent to prison my wife came to me.
“I couldn’t believe that it was you. But it was you that grabbed me in the flight. I could realise it in the dark even when I was half asleep and half awake. I set out to find the truth, it took me a long time but I found it. I hope you rot in prison for all the things you did.”
© spacebar
The Blast. The noise was too loud, almost as if someone was using a drill machine in his head. He craned his head to relieve the cramp in his neck. When he couldn't move he realised where he was; in a coffin deep in the confines of an airplane. The blast had a huge impact on the row ahead and behind him. It was as planned. He should be dead any minute. I just have to collect my souvenir and leave the place. After all this will be my last contract. The blast had blown the spectacle glass to bits but the frame was still intact. It was twisted in wildways but it will do. I picked it up and moved towards the emergency exit. I felt an arm grab my legs. It was a young man who lost his legs. He needed my help to reach the exit. I wrenched free from the grip and exited the plane. Mission Accomplished.
One month before the blast. I woke up at 4 A.M. as usual. I like the peace and quiet that comes with that hour. After finishing my morning business, I started my physical workout. First, the warmup. Next, the 10 k run. After that some weights. Finally cool down. It takes about 90 minutes for me to finish this. If you haven't noticed I am obsessed with time and sticking to it. After shower and breakfast, I sat down to work. I spend most of my time researching for a novel that I wanted to write but it never materialised. Still it was a good way to spend the time. Around noon I checked my encrypted mailbox. For some time I haven't received any contracts. That was both good and bad. I wanted to retire a while ago. I had made sufficient amount of money to survive an apocalypse in my bunker. Still, for sake of completeness I wanted to complete my eighth contract. To my disappointment there were no messages. Just before I closed the mailbox a new message arrived. My heart began to race. Nothing is more interesting than the clients first message.
"Greetings Master. Your contract if you choose to accept it is to neutralize Balrog. The payment will be made via cryptocurrency as soon as you accept the contract. I trust you. PS I am willing to double the payment if you can make it dramatic. - Caesar"
Caesar has been my trusted broker. He made sure he sent the interesting and high paying contracts to me. I typed one word "Y" and hit the send button. I didn't have to check whether the payments has arrived. It is Caesar's job to worry about that.
I know Balrog was famous and upcoming politician. I am not interested in politics a lot. I had learnt to live without it interfering with my life much. My wife on the other hand is a journalist. She is a big fan of him and believes that this "Balrog" can transform our country for good. Too bad for him. They had hired the best to terminate him. He will have no idea what hit him. I prefered to finish my contracts within a month. I need a plan. Something more than a plan a statement. This is my eighth and last contract. My contracts always make headlines. This has to be more than headlines. Cesar also mentioned the pay will be double if I make it dramatic. That will be two birds with one stone.
Most people think successful hitmen like me work alone. That is entirely wrong. I have a big team of freelancers who do small jobs for me without the knowledge of the big picture. I made requests to hundreds of detective agencies to give me a report on Balrog. I compiled that information and filtered the important details that were validated by several agencies. In a couple of days I knew more about him than his mother or his wife. I observed that he was frequently shuttling between several cities for political rallies. He flew economy class and pre-booked his tickets. It immediately struck me I had to kill him in a plane. I couldn't stop fantasizing about it.
Four hours before the blast. I boarded the plane under an alias. Infact I had four aliases and 2 disguises for that day. Transporting the bomb was simple. I slipped several parts of the bomb to unsuspecting passengers. The mules should not have any issues because the substance and quantity they were carrying were just below the threshold required for detection. Besides the staff working the midnight shift do not bother innocent looking people a lot. Once on board I retrieved all the items and assembled the bomb in the toilet. I had booked one seat right behind Balrog's I sat there and placed the bag containing the bomb under his seat. Everything was going smoothly as expected until I saw my wife on the plane. She told me she was travelling that day but not on this flight to that place at such an hour. She was seated in the blast radius. I have to escort her before I trigger the bomb. I needed a plan immediately.
Two minutes before the blast. I thought of several plans but nothing seemed to work out best. I decided to go with my guts. I triggered the bomb. I had but two minutes. I walked up to my wife. She was sleeping so were most of the passengers. The plane was descending and we were above the sea. The landing was due in another fifteen minutes. I gently touched her shoulders.
“Hey Miss.” I said in a fake and broken accent. “Are you journalist Aria?”
She woke up from her sleep. She was confused.
“Did she recognise me?” I asked myself. “That should be impossible.”
By now I had but 30 seconds. She nodded and said “What?”
“I have something important to tell. Can we talk near the galley?” I said. This line has almost always worked with aspiring journalists. She unbuckled her belt and rose.
I was counting, I had ten seconds. We began to walk towards the galley. I wanted to set the pace but she walked in a relaxed manner as usual.
I knew that we will not be at a safe distance before the blast. Just before the explosion. I quickly turned around and grabbed her and pinned her to the floor.
I don’t remember most of the things that happened after the blast. The plane made an emergency landing on the sea. I grabbed a souvenir and escaped from the plane. I was admitted to a hospital from where I escaped as soon as I learnt that my wife is safe and the target was neutralized.
Forty years later. My wife and I were sitting in our drawing room playing with our grandchildren. A couple of police officers walk into my home. I did not expect that the least.
“Sir you are under arrest for the assisnation of politician named Balrog.” one of the officers said.
In the next few weeks the officers produced all the evidence that linked me to the death of Balrog and the seven people I killed before him. There was no room for doubt. I began to wonder how all of this happened. Before I was sent to prison my wife came to me.
“I couldn’t believe that it was you. But it was you that grabbed me in the flight. I could realise it in the dark even when I was half asleep and half awake. I set out to find the truth, it took me a long time but I found it. I hope you rot in prison for all the things you did.”
© spacebar
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