“Before all that, however, you were going to sell the land to the mob to make some extra cash. At the time, you had no idea what the land actually was, but now you do, and your company has charged you with managing this new deal, you’ve had to back out of the old one, which has caused the mob to hire a hit man — that would be me — to kill you for screwing them over. Have I missed anything?”
Jackson lets out a heavy sigh. “Nope, that’s pretty much it,” he says.
“Excellent.” I pull the trigger and put a bullet directly in the center of his forehead.
The bullet itself is roughly ten millimeters in diameter, which is about half that of a dime. The tip of it is rounded for easier penetration. It travels at a speed of roughly three hundred and seventy-five meters per second. As the bullet impacts, the velocity causes the end of the bullet to shoot up to the tip, which means it flattens out to almost double the width. Consequently, the resulting exit wound much larger than the point of entry.
Jackson’s head snaps back violently as the bullet pushes its way through the thick bone at the front of his skull. The recoil of the impact causes his head to hang forward again as the bullet works its way through his brain and out the other side.
A spray of pinkish fluid — a mixture of blood, bone and brain — explodes over the floor behind him. From my finger squeezing the trigger to the dead weight of his lifeless body sagging in his seat against his restraints, just under one second has elapsed.
I let out a small sigh. Job done.
I look at Clara, who seems unfazed by it, but I can see her thinking of ways to avoid suffering the same fate. If I’m honest, I have no intention of shooting her. But it won’t do any harm to keep that to myself for the time being.
I walk behind her, careful not to step in the bits of Jackson splashed across the carpet. I remove her restraints and aim the gun at her.
“Okay, Clara,” I say. “Get up, nice and slow, and move over to the desk.”
She does.
“Now ring down to the front desk and tell them Mr. Jackson has decided to extend his stay, and will need the suite for another three nights.”
She does.
“Now sit on the bed,” I say, after she hangs up the phone.
She sits and looks at me, like a child preparing to be reprimanded by their parent.
“Right… Clara, this is make or break time for you. Tell me everything you know about Dark Rain.”
She looks at me with her dark green eyes, filled with conflict. She says she’s been with them for a couple of years, but given this Uranium thing seems as new to her as it is to me, my guess is she’s now re-evaluating her association with them.
“Like I said, I don’t actually know much about them,” she begins. “They recruited me a couple of years ago after some work I was doing over in Sierra Leone. I met a guy over there who said he was with an organization that had money and plans and they could do with someone like me… The usual sales pitch, I guess.”
I’m actually beginning to feel sorry for her. It’s pretty clear that she’s been blinded by the promise of money and made the rookie error of not finding out who she was going into business with before signing on. And I can tell she’s starting to realize that herself.
Her voice practically a whisper; the confidence and presence she’s had throughout all this has gone. “I started out doing a few jobs for them — nothing major. Then a few weeks ago, I was finally introduced to their leader, a former Colonel named Roman Ketranovich. He said he was impressed with the work I’d done for them already, and that I’d proven my dedication to their cause.”
“And what is their cause, exactly?” I ask.
“I’m not sure what their endgame is. But they’ve got the numbers and they’ve got the backing to do whatever they want. The Colonel is fanatical and he believes everything he’s doing is right — to hell with the consequences. His followers are completely loyal to him and his ideals. They would die for him without hesitation.”
“And what about you?”
“I was there for the money,” she shrugs. “I’m a killer, not a monster.”
“I can relate to that,” I say, with a half-smile.
“He told me I needed to protect someone for a couple of weeks. Said he was important and was doing Dark Rain a great service. I had no idea they were involved in something that could lead to nuclear weapons. That’s more heat than I can be paid to deal with.”
I nod. I believe her. “Good,” I say. “That makes this next part a bit easier.”
I walk around the bed toward briefcase. I take the documents out of it and close it, throwing it over to Clara. It lands next to her and she looks at it, confused, before looking back at me.
“I’ve got what I came for,” I say, waving the documents in my hand. “In that briefcase is quarter of a million dollars. Take it and walk away.”
She looks shocked, not expecting such kindness after seeing me shoot Jackson in cold blood. I can see her doubts, so I figure I should try to put her mind at ease.
“Jackson was a job, nothing more,” I say. “The whole thing has obviously got a bit messy, and I’m going to do what I can to sort that. As far as I’m concerned, all this is now my problem. I don’t see it as being yours as well. It sounds to me like you were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and I have no desire to hurt you. But you need to walk away. Now. Take this money — I’m sure you’re resourceful enough to put it to good use.”
She looks at the case again, then back at me. She smiles. Not her mercenary, ready-to-kill-you smile. But, as best I can describe, a girly smile. But it fades as quickly as it appeared.
“I’ll never be able to hide from them,” she says. “The Colonel won’t allow me to leave. He’ll see it as treason and he’ll order me killed if I even try.”
“Then help me,” I say.
“What, you can’t manage on your own?”
“Well, I’ve very recently found myself the proud owner of a Uranium mine that’s wanted not only by an extremist army that has funding from a private military contractor, but also a very powerful mob boss who's determined to get the land to build a casino on it — except he has no idea it has a Uranium mine underneath it… Obviously this outstanding set of circumstances is nothing I can’t handle, it’s just nice to have some company, y’know?”
“Uh-huh… sounds like a walk in the park — I’m sure I’d only slow you down…” she says with a smile.
I smile back and it feels like everything that’s just happened has been forgotten.
Hang on a sec…
I don’t know what made me think of it, but earlier today when I came out of Manhattan’s club, there was that leather-clad biker who sped off as soon as they saw me. I know a tail when I see one, and after everything she just said, I assume that was Clara… but that was before I’d found anything out about Dark Rain. If she was following me then, that means they knew who I was all long, and why I was there, long before I’d heard of them.
How is that possible?
Clara’s smile fades as she sees the expression on my face change. I aim my gun at her. “How did you know to tail me this morning?” I demand.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replies defensively. “I wasn’t tailing you this morning, I was with Jackson. Besides, I’ve only just met you.”
“Bullshit. You knew I was outside the door before.”
“I know, but that’s only because I’ve been expecting an attempt of some kind on Jackson ever since I was assigned to protect him. Why else would he need protecting? Plus, your bell boy routine was so transparent it was embarrassing.”