Till Deceived Do We Part

“Appealing.” I snapped up, my eyes going alert and my body tensing. I was laying on my bed, papers crinkling underneath me since I had fallen asleep on them. A little bit of drool was on my chin, and I hastily wiped it away, ignoring the smirk that now lap upon Flint’s face. He was leaning against my door frame, though I was almost sure I had locked the door.

“What?” I snapped, leaning back against my pillows, running my hands through my mused hair. My eyes were still drifting shut, and I had to use all my will to keep them open.

“Fill me in,” he jerked his head to the papers. I grumbled, but complied.

The papers varied from topic to topic. Some were electrical bills, other water bills or even purchase records. The common factor in each? The payer; Dalton. There were even a couple of blurry pictures, of Dalton buying off contractors for silence, which resulted in no filed paperwork for them. A pain for us, but a bonus for Dalton.

Among the papers were also rap sheets. Rap sheets of some of the men we believed were helping Dalton. Tony Nicholson was one of them. 5'4, fair build, brown eye, blue eyes, and the cherry on the top? He just got out of jail for manslaughter. Under the table he was convicted of three rapes, two tortures and one act of cannibalism. All in all, I wanted to see him dead.

Mark Alkiker was another name among the list that stuck out. He was a police officer, and had reported his car stolen two weeks ago. It had turned up a day ago, and while he was thrilled about it being back, he was caught heading into some shady businesses off work. The pictures were blurry, but it was safe to bet he was meeting with someone. Which proved there was a mole in the police system, something none of us had time to worry about, for police hits were so much worse. They take the act of killing an officer a lot more serious. Not to mention that Mark had a wife and twin girls. That made it tougher.

There were many more names, but the last one that actually jumped off the page at me, was Anton Blaire. Or as we know him? Dalton. The real Anton Blaire, so Jake had found out, had been reported missing two years ago after going on an archeological dig in Mexico. Dalton, afterwards, assumed his name. Whether he was the cause of Anton’s disappearance had yet to be known. Dalton, under the name of Anton, was pretending that the whole electrical fence security was due to a find he had recently made, and he wished to keep it safe until he could bid it off to the highest bidder. Bullshit, but a nice cover. Bid wars can take time if there’s no deadline. Anton, the original, had no record of any family.

The rest of the papers were more bills, more paper trails, and more blurry pictures. Nothing too substantial.

Flint insisted on going through all the papers, so I allowed him as I shut my eyes for a few moments. It wasn’t until Hunter entered the room that I woke my body up. I lived with Flint all the time, so I had no problem with him seeing me sleep, but Hunter? He wasn’t apart of our base, or our family, so I wasn’t about to show him sides of me that I’d rather he didn’t know.

“What?” Asked Flint, not looking up. Hunter ignored Flint and looked directly at me.

“Jake asked me to do some more digging, and here’s what I found.” Flint looked up now, his eyes narrowed at Hunter. I took the paper’s from him, already internally groaning. I hated paperwork, it was just too dull.

I frowned down at the page, my eyes already scanning. It was an online conversation.

“What does this have to do with anything?” I asked, my eyes still on the paper.

“The price? The item to be destroyed? This is all about your hit.” That piqued my interest.

P1. Fifty thousand for it to be destroyed.

C1. Worth more. One hundred.

C2. Suicide. Worth more. Way more.

C1. C2 is right. Two hundred thousand. No less.

C2. Agreed.

P1. Remains fifty. Gained rep is enough payment.

P2. Up to seventy five. No higher. Now get to work.

I scowled and re-read it. Flint read it after me, also frowning. I understood it, yet I didn’t. P1 was payer number one. And C1, and so forth, stood for clients; potential hit man. Client one, client two, and so forth. But P2? There were two payers? That meant there were two men working my hit?

“We’ve determined that Boris was P1 by tracing the conversation to his computer.”

“And P2?”Asked Flint. Hunter hesitated.

“Still working on it.”

“Then go work on it.” Hunter obliged, shooting me one last look. I watched him leave before getting to my feet. I just had to move.

So my head was still on the line? Even with Boris locked away? This was just what I needed, and as I spared a glance at Flint, I realized this affected him too. If I had a hit on my head still, Jake may not allow me to help, and Flint was left to himself. While he thought very highly of himself, even he knew he couldn’t do it all by himself.

“You just had to anger him, didn’t you?” He finally asked, flopping down on my bed. I ignored him and continued my pacing. If only there was some way to use this to my advantage. But how?

“Hypothetical question,” I said, turning to him. He supported himself on his elbows and stared at me, his hair falling across his face. While I hated his guts, I had to admit, Flint was a looker. His lean abdominal muscles, his pouty lips and silk hair. All in all, he was attractive.

“If you wanted someone in your possession for who knows what, and you find out someone else is trying to kill them, would you be angry?” Flint’s emotions fell off his face as he considered this, thinking it through at all angles. This was why I asked him, for he thought out every angle and surpassed even Jake many times, in intellect. It was strange thinking of Flint as the brain of the base, but in a sense, it was true.

“I would be furious that someone was trying to take out the person I wanted, underneath my nose.”

“You think Dalton knows?”

“Hard to say.”

“You think we should let him know?” Now that got me his full attention, something hard to accomplish. He studied me before a small smile flittered on his face.

“Send two enemies against one another, and take out the remainder. Smart. I’ll pass it by Jake.”

“Pass what by me?” I spun around, as Flint stood to his feet, losing his calm pose on my bed. Jake stood in my doorway, a couple of folders in his one hand, and a tray of drinks in his other. He raised an eyebrow at me, a smile playing across his lips. I smiled too, for I knew something good must have happened.

“Later. What’s that?” Asked Flint, taking the tray of drinks from him. I grabbed one, enjoying the caffeine buzz that came almost immediately. Coffee. Not my thing, but it does wonders to wake you up.

“Blue prints. Lots of them. As well as heat signature scans.” His smile grew. I sat on the edge of my bed, sipping my coffee, as Flint took one of the folders, flipping it open expertly while balancing a coffee in the other hand. He had set the tray down on my night table, and had given Jake his. Jake came and joined me on the bed, while Flint’s eyes scanned the papers.

“Where does this leave us?” I asked, Jake smiled, took another sip of his coffee, and glanced at Flint.

“What’s missing?” He asked, ignoring me completely.

“Outside blueprints.”The answer came instantly, Flint not even bothering to look up. Jake looked back at me, his eyes testing. I was supposed to say something to that fact, and it took me a moment to realize it. When I did, I mentally hit myself. Duh.

“Which requires a scout.” Flint opened his mouth, but I cut him off. “Dibs. I got the location from Isaiah, I should have the right to be the one to scout.”

“Not with the hit on your he-“ Jake waved a hand, cutting off Flint.

“I’ve thought about this long and hard. Yes you have a hit on your head, and while that itself is something to be wary about, Dalton and his group warrant more fear. The faster we wrap this up, the faster we hunt down the other payer. You’re at risk wherever you go, Andrayka, which is why I will allow you to pull the scout. I’m not sure you’re even safe here, and I’d like to change that as soon as possible, for that, we need Dalton dead.

“And Zane back.” Jake nodded.

“Yes, and your brother back.”

The meeting myself and Flint had missed had been about our compromised security. Security had helped Boris get the help he required, and until we knew who had done the deed itself, all guards, with the select few Jake trusted with his life, were on probation. They were to remain in a camera area at all times of the day, any deviance from this new rule would lead them to be locked up in a cell until further investigation could be made.

Also, all assassins were to remain in camera area. The same punishment landed on them if they didn’t. A dew were already locked up, under suspicion of funnelling out information to Dalton. A few others were under strict watch, having shown signs of rebellion.

Myself, Flint and Jake were the only ones allowed outside the base, and outside of the camera watch. Even Hunter, Vachel and Remington were to follow the rules, and Jake was already getting in touch with some of their leaders, to get more background information on them. While they may not have been in the actual game play of the betrayal, that didn’t mean that they weren’t in some way involved. Jake had already cleared Hunter, but didn’t wish to alert Remington or Vachel by allowing him out of camera areas.

Flint was currently on his way to interrogate Boris, wanting the information on P2 out in the open. If he didn’t get it... well, let’s just say Boris may not be able to speak for a couple of weeks. Jake didn’t mind taking that chance, for his patience was wearing this, and when Jake lost his patience, you better watch out.

I’ve only seen him once lose his patience, and that was on an old assassin of ours. The assassin was constantly goofing off, and while that’s fine since Jake encourages us to not take our work off our hits, he was going too far. He was turning the hits into his own playing field, laughing and bragging weeks after the kill. He was getting too known, so Jake warned him. Nice at first, not so nice the second time. In the end, Jake had no choice but to kick him.

Two months later, he confronted Zane on a mission. He tried to kidnap Zane, but he had only been a level four. Zane killed him in tens seconds flat. Jake didn’t even reprimand Zane.

Currently, I was driving. And feeling damn giddy. I was wearing a kevlar vest, just to calm down Jake, my target clothes, two guns strapped to my legs, three daggers and there was an M16 in the passenger seat. Underneath a blanket, of course.

Adrenaline coursed through me, even if I knew I wasn’t saving Zane today. It didn’t matter, though, for I was getting the last puzzle piece, and with the last piece, came the reward. The reward of seeing everything laid out and explained in which we would be able to go and get Zane. We were getting him, and we were so close I could almost see him, hear him.

I took a sharp turn before slowing my speed. I had to blend in, not arouse suspicion, even if I was doing nothing other than scouting. Scouting seemed like a lot at the moment, but that may be because I was scouting the place where Zane was being held captive.

In my phone was a top of the line camera, and while I wasn’t going to get close enough to take any real quality shots, I would be able to get enough. According to the reports, the road that led to the old warehouse and graveyard also had a gas station across from it. I would stop, fill up my gas tank, and look for cell reception, or so it would seem. In doing do, I’d snap a couple of photos and if all seemed clear, I would get a bit closer and get some more. If not, I’d get in my car with my full tank of gas, and drive.

The gas station was easy enough to find. With a large sign, flashing green lights... and the only building on the right side of the road. I didn’t stop.

I immediately saw the warehouse, and felt my heart sink. It was swarming with men and trucks. Not the men I was afraid of, either. Moving men. The electrical fence was down, and besides a few outside boxed, there was nothing to be seen. IT was deserted, and unless we could figure out where this stuff was moving, I doubted we would find anything left behind. I wasn’t about to go in there by myself in case Dalton had hired these men specifically for the job, they would know my face.

I cursed, my fists hitting the wheel. Damn it! We had been so close! We had been closing in! I screamed in frustration and hit the wheel again. This wasn’t fair! To get this close just to have it slip through our fingers. No. I wasn’t going to give up, if anything, this gave me incentive to try even harder. We had them on the run.

I turned off the highway and connected the blue tooth. Jake was going to be mad, but then, who wasn’t going to be?

“That was fast.” Came his response.

“I didn’t stop. Moving men. Everything is already practically gone.” Silence.

“Thank you.” He finally said, catching me by surprise.

“For what?”

“Not stopping. That must have been hard. Come back and we’ll go over some possible courses of action with Flint. We will get them soon, Drake, I promise you.” I turned again, onto a strip of road with trees on either side. The clouds still loomed overhead, and the rain was threatening to come down again.

I should have known better than to trust Jake when he promised me, but I couldn’t help but take comfort in his words. He may have lied to me, but at the present moment, there wasn’t anything I could do about it. The only solution that came to mind was to talk to Zane about it, but seeing as he wasn’t here, that option wasn’t available.

“You better keep that promise, Ja-“ I shut myself up. My eyes narrowing, and snapping to the side to look out my window. That sound, I knew that sound.

“Dra-“

I figured it out a second too late. I jerked the wheel, but not quick enough. The bullet hit my left front tire, and before I could even blink, the tire exploded. The car screeched and groaned terribly, but no matter how hard I held onto the wheel, I couldn’t stop the car from flipping.