All To Impress You
Grace
She watched the snow falling outside, her deep green eyes focused on each individual flake that fell upon the pavement and became one with the now trodden blanket of cold, white frozen rain. Despite her indifferent appearance, she was listening to the chatter around her, to the men she had called in to her boss’s obscure little café, or rather, what was supposed to be a front. The men knew this of course; having either worked for or with him before. What they didn’t know was that she had a little announcement for them. She gave an audible sigh and looked away from the window. Her icy gaze seemed to freeze the men at the large round table as only their eyes moved round to pay her some attention.
“Gentlemen,” she murmured in a way that made each man’s hairs stand up like the fur on a frightened cat. “I see for once you’re noticing my existence. Such a good start. And a perfect end.”
No-one seemed to understand what she meant; worried and confused glances were shared around the table. The sound of footsteps indicated his presence, and they stopped only a few steps from where they all were seated. Flicking back her medium-length red hair, she continued.
“Let me explain. Remember that none of you wanted to give me a chance? None of you thought a woman was capable of doing the things you do. Well today I get to prove you wrong.”
“Women are much too emotional for our type of, er, work,” one of the men said, a smile on his stupid face. “You can’t kill because you see it as murder.”
She looked up at him. He was watching with interest, looking to see what she would do, studying her actions carefully. She swallowed, a little too loudly.
“I can prove you wrong,” she said. “I can do it now. I can tell you all which one of you is a double-agent. I know; I’ve been watching you, all of you… He told me to.”
The men turned to the one she was looking at, their boss and mentor, who simply gave them an overwhelming glare with those deep brown orbs of his.
“I told her to watch all of you,” he said, his voice like velvet, in his mood however, like velvet being rubbed the wrong way. “All of you. I had complete faith in her. And she came through for me. Tell the gentlemen, Grace, which one it was.”
Grace, the green-eyed girl, had now upon her face a mad grin, one hand was in her suit jacket; and slowly, she stood up to full height. At 5 ft 5, she wasn’t taller than any of the men in the room, but they all gave her a terrified look as they witnessed her pull from her pocket a black pistol and point it at the man who had doubted her ability to “commit murder”. The smile was gone from his face now; he was as white as death.
“W-wait,” he protested, shaking where he sat. “I was just doing my job!”
“No-one here asked you to kill my best friend, to desert me” the boss said coldly, turning away.
“I don’t remember it!” the once elite assassin cried, tears escaping from him like blood from an open wound, too scared too think of running or drawing his own gun.
“I remember,” Grace hissed.
BANG! The sobbing was no more. The men nearest the newly deceased were spattered red, traumatised, though as killers they shouldn’t have been. Seemingly satisfied, the redhead placed her gun back in its rightful place and walked towards the back room, as though nothing had even happened.
*
“By that crimson stain on your sleeve, I see you did it,” he said, giving her a warm stare, his greying black hair sliding down over his forehead. She nodded, unaffected by what she had just done.
“He wronged you,” she said, justifying her actions. “I wouldn’t stand for it.”
Her superior gave her a sincere smile, though he didn’t move from where he was leaning. He flicked his head to the side in an attempt to tame his hair, which seemed to have a life of its own.
“You’re perfect,” he said softly. “A cold-blooded woman. No-one would suspect a thing of you, and yet you’re capable of so much.”
She took this as a compliment, silently glowing with pride and accomplishment, her cheeks pink and obvious on her normally pale white face.
“Have you any assignments for me?” she whispered hopefully, heart beating wildly like a prisoner against the walls of her cell. She was eager to please, she wanted him to be proud.
“Be patient,” he said soothingly. “I will get in contact with you soon. Wait for my call.”
And with those words, and his long coat swishing gracefully behind him, he left her in the room with only her thoughts and a gaggle of shocked and distressed hitmen for company.
“Gentlemen,” she murmured in a way that made each man’s hairs stand up like the fur on a frightened cat. “I see for once you’re noticing my existence. Such a good start. And a perfect end.”
No-one seemed to understand what she meant; worried and confused glances were shared around the table. The sound of footsteps indicated his presence, and they stopped only a few steps from where they all were seated. Flicking back her medium-length red hair, she continued.
“Let me explain. Remember that none of you wanted to give me a chance? None of you thought a woman was capable of doing the things you do. Well today I get to prove you wrong.”
“Women are much too emotional for our type of, er, work,” one of the men said, a smile on his stupid face. “You can’t kill because you see it as murder.”
She looked up at him. He was watching with interest, looking to see what she would do, studying her actions carefully. She swallowed, a little too loudly.
“I can prove you wrong,” she said. “I can do it now. I can tell you all which one of you is a double-agent. I know; I’ve been watching you, all of you… He told me to.”
The men turned to the one she was looking at, their boss and mentor, who simply gave them an overwhelming glare with those deep brown orbs of his.
“I told her to watch all of you,” he said, his voice like velvet, in his mood however, like velvet being rubbed the wrong way. “All of you. I had complete faith in her. And she came through for me. Tell the gentlemen, Grace, which one it was.”
Grace, the green-eyed girl, had now upon her face a mad grin, one hand was in her suit jacket; and slowly, she stood up to full height. At 5 ft 5, she wasn’t taller than any of the men in the room, but they all gave her a terrified look as they witnessed her pull from her pocket a black pistol and point it at the man who had doubted her ability to “commit murder”. The smile was gone from his face now; he was as white as death.
“W-wait,” he protested, shaking where he sat. “I was just doing my job!”
“No-one here asked you to kill my best friend, to desert me” the boss said coldly, turning away.
“I don’t remember it!” the once elite assassin cried, tears escaping from him like blood from an open wound, too scared too think of running or drawing his own gun.
“I remember,” Grace hissed.
BANG! The sobbing was no more. The men nearest the newly deceased were spattered red, traumatised, though as killers they shouldn’t have been. Seemingly satisfied, the redhead placed her gun back in its rightful place and walked towards the back room, as though nothing had even happened.
*
“By that crimson stain on your sleeve, I see you did it,” he said, giving her a warm stare, his greying black hair sliding down over his forehead. She nodded, unaffected by what she had just done.
“He wronged you,” she said, justifying her actions. “I wouldn’t stand for it.”
Her superior gave her a sincere smile, though he didn’t move from where he was leaning. He flicked his head to the side in an attempt to tame his hair, which seemed to have a life of its own.
“You’re perfect,” he said softly. “A cold-blooded woman. No-one would suspect a thing of you, and yet you’re capable of so much.”
She took this as a compliment, silently glowing with pride and accomplishment, her cheeks pink and obvious on her normally pale white face.
“Have you any assignments for me?” she whispered hopefully, heart beating wildly like a prisoner against the walls of her cell. She was eager to please, she wanted him to be proud.
“Be patient,” he said soothingly. “I will get in contact with you soon. Wait for my call.”
And with those words, and his long coat swishing gracefully behind him, he left her in the room with only her thoughts and a gaggle of shocked and distressed hitmen for company.