It’s four in the morning and every step forward that he takes makes his body hurt in some constricting way. His left eye socket feels swollen and his bottom lip viciously stung due to it being severely split near the corner of his mouth, breathing also was a labored task. It is needless to say that he is in bad shape, but none worse than he had ever been in his life. This was nothing new, he could easily handle the hurt and how he looked. However, the truly amazing but sad part was how he had ended up in this condition in the first place, and particularly who it was exactly that had handed his ass to him. The existence of a true professional, hired gun meant that he had long since given up on compensating for his outward appearance and cautious mannerisms. His face was a criss-crossed road map of small scars, a scenic view of one too many close calls, violence, and an all-around disregard for one’s own mortality.
The landscape of his features is a beautiful compilation of tone and structure. His handsomeness, which he has never admitted to having, was distinguished in an odd fashion; the recent, slight graying at his temples provided an air of wisdom and delicate knowledge for all the wrong things. His eyes, heartbreakingly beautiful, sharp and intimidating were the last of what anyone saw when he came to their door to carry out a job. Many men have looked into those dark eyes and instantly saw their own death; nothing personal, just business, no hesitance. Always has it been said that the first job is undoubtedly nerve-racking, with a nauseated fury; all things go shocking red and finally fade to black after the last breath leaves the lungs of a marked client and the adrenaline finally subsides.
He had started to remember exactly what is was like for him on his first time; when he was younger and braver in those days, less prone to falling into the snares of deep ethical thoughts that now seem to forever occupy his time. He had been following the guy for less than two days, tirelessly noting routines and gaining insight on when the best moment to take his life would be. When the time finally came down to the wire, he was ready, and the hit never even saw him coming. Every player in the trade had a grand philosophy for what they did, a wicked mantra of unworthy justification. To him, it was all just bullshit excuses. He was realistic about what he was, and what he did to survive. He didn’t need a false sense of purpose because in the end, everyone was in it for the money.
The cold breeze that struck his cheekbones like a hard backhand had rolled in off of the Pacific waves, and straight into the heart of the city. Stoic, ancient buildings stood tall, dark and silent; empathetic to his slight limp that he was now carrying. The streets are damp and posses a calm, dark mood. Uphill, Sisyphean battles were being fought between his tired feet and the law of gravity. The area was surprisingly empty for a large metropolis. The late night party children and social vampires had long since gone home to recuperate from a long night of sin and absolute bedlam. Deserted and quiet, the whole world had gone to sleep, leaving him alone with a lifetime worth of thoughts. His journey has started approximately fifteen blocks in the opposite direction of where he was heading. Powell Street had never looked so attractive. He had once walked in Union Square during the middle of the day; the anonymity that a large population and tourist ridden place that was provided was a remarkable comfort.
Keeping himself out of the enemy’s view had gotten to be difficult. He wasn’t sure if the business of contractors and clients had changed overnight, but he was damn certain that the times had become hard to comprehend. He held onto the old school values of how things were to be done correctly. Now it had become all about drug trade and a false ideal of respect that was thrown around so freely. Many younger, hungrier, impressionable men had fiercely exploded onto the scene, willing to have nearly anyone who dared to hinder their success killed or maimed. They are more interested in making a name for themselves than anything else, which included doing their own work and getting their hands dirty. Organizations that were once strong, and feared had now become nothing more than laughable caricatures of themselves. It made him sick and depressed to know that he was part of a dying breed. He needed to hang it all up and walk away while he still had the ability to use both of his legs. Tonight’s job couldn’t of gone any more wrong than it had, he had lost his talent, he had only gotten older, and that, more than anything, caused him the most pain.
He had been paid upfront to take care of a domestic dispute between two prominent members of a large union. The requesting party was an up-and coming son of a deceased boss and the hit is his adopted sister. She had wanted out after the old man’s death, and the son knew he couldn’t afford her openly living out in the world. Her defiance proved that the risk of establishment’s activities being blown was far too high, and she couldn’t be trusted. The drama of it all is what interested our man to the deal in the first place. The money was more than he had ever been offered before. In his own way, he had also wanted out, and this was a wide, open door staring him in the face. It wasn’t usually his style to get caught up in the finer details. The brother was nothing more than a cheap excuse for a person. The only thing that his father’s people had liked about him was the possibility that he could easily be gotten rid of. The hit man also disregarded the fact that the girl was not much older than twenty-five, he ignored the way her lips turned into a grin instead of a smile, he didn’t feel lonely following her around for hours at a time – always a few steps behind, and there was no hint of sadness when he had decided that she didn’t deserve what was going to happen to her.
After a week, he was ready to make his final move. During his entire time of surveillance he had tailed her to a downtown dance hall repeatedly. She went almost every night, always around eleven and leaving around three in the morning. He thought it fitting that she should enjoy herself before he had to take it all away. She had danced hypnotically the entire night, alone an unwilling to let the men hitting on her get close. From the club’s balcony, he watched her like a perched gargoyle. Her arms, long and thin, swirled around and caressed her curves seductively. The hills and valleys of her body were smooth and alive. He thought of all the places in the world he had been, and how nothing was comparable to this territory. He figured that Columbus must have felt the same way when his boat hit the foreign shore… His original plan was to grab her and catch her point blank as she was leaving, but the more he watched, the more he let himself go. He was losing focus; it was almost time for her to be going. With a deep sigh, he had made his way down the curved stairs; the D.J. announced the last song. People were forming groups and couples for after parties and one-night, love stories. In all the excitement in the atmosphere of the dancehall, he had lost track of her small frame, she had moved quickly, had he missed his chance?
He stood on the bottom step and desperately scanned the sea of hair and limbs. He began to become aggravated with himself until he heard a voice behind him. “You really shouldn’t let people sneak up behind you.” He felt the pressure of perhaps something sharp in the small of his back. His jacket however, dulled the sensation. Without turning around he replied, “I’m not the one you want to talk to, I was hired.” She laughed, and he found that threatening. “Turn around; I don’t believe we have had the pleasure of formally meeting.” He did so, but slowly, they looked at each other, both careful not to reveal true feelings or fear. She slowly started to back away; she knew that she could only defend herself for so long. The silenced stares made for quite a showdown, but to anyone else around, they looked like two people in the middle of an awkward but phenomenal hook-up. He instantly realized that she had planned it this way all along, he had been fooled. The party girl was not what she seemed. He looked at her as if she could have been one of the biggest rivals in his entire illustrious career, and she returned a hard look, solidifying his thought. When did she catch on to him?
Out of embarrassment and pure anger, he lunged for her, if this was going to end badly he didn’t care. He had taken many people down, much larger than her, but they had all been unaware of his presence beforehand. As if she had a hair-trigger reaction to his movement, she was prepared. The sharp object he thought he had felt earlier was in all actuality a beer bottle. She quickly swung it towards his face and it landed with a resounding thud. The glass refused to break, causing her to catch him again with one swift turn of the wrist. She then began wildly fighting and swearing to garner as much attention as she could from the onlookers. He managed to quickly get a couple of shots in, knocking the air out of her and quieting her yells. It was a real fight they had gotten into. Drunk and concerned men surrounded them, and suddenly he was consumed and felt four sets of fists violently ringing his bell. She used this as a cue to escape, they took one last blurry look at each other and she was gone quickly and was thrown out soon after.
The sun is now coming up over the skyline; she’s somewhere far away by now, nursing her own wounds. He had failed for the first time. In all his misery and humiliation he grinned when he saw the faint light and glow of the sun. Another day had risen, and another chance was made. He was contemplating and looking forward to their meeting again. He was sure of that.
