"It doesn't need to be clean. Actually…make it messy. Send a message that I am not the one to jerk around when it comes to my product."
The cheap smell of whiskey flowing from his breath does little to cover up the even more atrocious sent of cheaper tobacco. The only thing lavish about this balding man is the expensive european suit that tightly hugs his overweight body, threatening to tear at the seams and even pop a few buttons along the way.
"So who's the target?" A slim figure replies from the shadows beneath the Brooklyn bridge. The darkness revealing nothing but the glowing violet of her piercing eyes. The man shifts uncomfortable upon seeing the gaze."It's…it's not the boss you have to kill. It's his right hand man. They call him behemoth. I want you to skewer the roided out son of a-"
"Payment will be $200,000…cash. No exceptions, no negotiation." She doesn't hesitate to interrupt his needless ranting. A name is all Laila needed to find her target. She has killed more incognito targets with less information and under more strenuous conditions.
"That's a little steep for a just a body guard. I'll pay you once the job is comp-"
"No." Laila interrupts again, this time with more coldness and an aggressive squint. "Half now, half later. A common condition among assassins in case you decide to bail out of the country once I kill the target. The money would assist me in tracking you down and grouching out your eyes for skimming on our deal."
"Hm. Fine." He adjusts his tie in an awkward manner and snaps his stubby fingers, signaling an older silver haired man from behind him with a small suitcase. "I had a feeling it be expensive. Theres $125,000 in there. Now go retrieve me what is owed."
"Retrieve?"
Her voice is a low growl as she steps out of the shadows with a raised eyebrow.
"Am I some dog that is to be ordered by you simply because you offered me money of my services? This is the first time you have contacted me for a contract so let me make one thing clear."
Before finishing her sentence the silver haired man who brought the suitcase lets out an agonizing wail, screaming for mercy. Looking down the fat business man sees that his arms have been severed at the elbows, gushing with blood as he drops to the ground, still crying. A split second earlier, she drew out a single Katana that had been strapped to her back, and slashed down at the mans limbs and sheathed before anyone could register what happened.
"You are not in charge. You are a customer and I reserve the right to refuse service." She takes the brief case and begins to walk away."This time tomorrow, better bring more guards if you want to keep your tongue."
Two hours later and Laila is silently sprinting from roof top to roof top, tailing a limousine making its way to a grand hotel. The vehicle stops upon coming to the valet and lets out a infamous mobster. She waits, not even a sweat or a heavy breath as she focuses on the real target. The van heading to the parking garage that had been following the limo.
Terrible tactic to convoy and split up as soon as you reach the location. Amateurs.
She returns to a sprint towards the garage and leaps from the top stair case to the one directly above the van, crouching and waiting.
"Six steaks, no less." A giant of a man speaks to a large cell phone as he climbs out of the van. His monstrous grip on the metal leaves dents as his full weight drops on the cement of the garage. The van quickly leaves the bodyguard while he makes his weight to the staircase where Laila hides. "And a turkey! A fresh one, not of that GH crap either!" Now.Laila drops from the stairs guardrail and wraps her figure around the giant's, her arms secured tightly around his neck applying enough pressure to break a tree trunk."Ah! What the hell! I should've smelled you!"
I don't bother telling him that my psychic ability helps block my scent. I never offers an explanation to my skills, a common weakness among assailants and other metas.
The pressure she applies is immense, but his spine leading to the neck seemed to be made of steel."Get…Off!" He shouts while slamming her body against a concrete pillar, but it fails. She doesn't falter nor lose any amount of grip on his neck. Instead, she vaults over him and draws her Katana. She steps forward with a powerful thrust, piercing his abdomen in a highly vascular area, drawing as much blood as possible to paint the floor red. "W-…….why?"He growls lowly with as much fear in his eyes as a gazelle before a lioness.
"Because you are weak." Her words come with a final twist and turn of her blade. The footsteps of steel toed boots echo down the garage. With her skill, she could have avoided a fight and detection all together, but this job paid extra for a message.
The next night comes slowly as the darkness of the sky drapes the city. "True to your word!"He yells slamming the door to his Mercedes. The third car in a 5 car convoy of vans. Laila knows exactly where this is going but remains unfazed. "The rest of the money has yet to be wired to my bank account. The reason?" The male customer lets out a hearty laugh as the vans empty out with men and women armed with M-4 semi automatic carbines. The sound of their movements only tells Laila that they have hollow tipped 5.56 NATO rounds.
"As much as I would enjoy being $50,000 poorer, I'll tell you whats going to happen. My guys are going to kill you without any hesitation, and they're going to find where the rest of that money, and guess what? I'm going to keep my tongue-…huh?"
Talking…They always talk. They don't understand that if they want someone dead they should focus on that instead of meaningless words that hold no backing.
Laila begins to move with her katana tight in her right hand and her mental blade emanating with energy from her right hand. Slashing and hacking her way through the soldiers. Soon bullets are flying as she continues to cut their numbers. Hollow tips as I predicted. She begins to block the bullets with a flurry of movements from her katana, breaking each one as they hit her sword. A final slash at a soldiers shins and the chaos that was a war zone goes silent. Nothing but the client….And the assassin under the moonlight and beneath the bridge.
"I'll pay you more! I'll give you a permanent job! Just don't kill me!" He crawls away on his knees ,tears and piss dripping to the floor. Fear raids his mind.
"What was that about your tongue?" Her face doesn't break its solid demeanor, but theres a hint of joy that can be felt in the air from her as she slowly slices his mouth….Then his ears…Nose…fingers….and finally…his poor attempts to cry for help from his tongues lips stop…and his body goes limp from the loss of blood. A message. A message to everyone.
Don't f**k with me.
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