Preliminary note: This story is part 2 of another piece I wrote a few months ago. You can find it here: www.literotica.com/s/the-ballad-of-a-drifter. Of course the Swan's song can be read as a standalone but I'll make references to events that occurred in the previous story so you might find yourselves a bit lost. I hope you enjoy it and of course all comments are always welcome.
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The drifter's Swan song
1.
Sitting on the porch of the three story building, the two large black men looked inconspicuous in the mainly colored neighborhood. To the trained eye, those two plus the one in the back of the delivery truck across the street were part of the same system. A system whose only goal was to guarantee the anonymity and safety of the agency's main safe house in the hearth of Manhattan.
The stooped old lady with the large tartan bag walked past them without raising any suspicion. This is why I had chosen her: angelical face, colored and in appearance absolutely harmless; a perfect counter system made to bypass the security measures implemented by my former employers. She entered the building and got out of my sight. I started the car and moved away. There was nothing else I could do; either the plan would work or I would have to try another approach to solve my problem.
I was already far when finally the old woman reached the basement of the building. She opened her worn off bag and flipped two switches. The artisanal bomb she was carrying exploded in a great ball of fire. The building held for a few instants before collapsing. On the last floor, my target as well as the two men protecting him would not survive. Good.
The traffic lights were red when the girl with the bleached bangs knocked on the passenger's window. She looked young and innocent, lost in the large city. But her far too short skirt and her far too low neckline prevented anyone from having any doubt on her actual line of work. I rolled down the window.
"Looking for company Baby?"
I opened the door, she sat and we drove off.
"Payment up front Baby," she said
I handed her three Benjamins.
"Nice," she said stuffing the bills in her small bag, "with this, you get me for the whole night."
I continued driving ignoring her.
"So, your place or a hotel?"
The flat I had been using to prepare the operation was compromised and a hotel would the first place they would look for me.
"Yours," I said.
She tried to complain but a quick glimpse at my eyes convinced her to go along with it. She had me drive her to an old apartment building in Harlem. When she told me that we had arrived, I drove two more blocks and abandoned the car on a disabled parking spot just to be sure to have it picked up within the next twenty four hours.
We walked back to her small flat. The place stank, both figuratively and literally. It hadn't been repainted since the construction of the building which had probably happened sometime between the second and third crusade. In the living room in front of a crumbling couch, the TV was on showing one of those infomercials. On the screen, a woman explained how buying a set of shitty knives made in China had changed her life.
"So Baby, what do you want me to do?" She asked taking off her top.
"I want you to shut up and watch TV. I have a couple of phone calls to make."
She looked at me with curiosity but finally she sat down on the couch and stared at the woman.
I walked to the bedroom and closed the door. The place looked even worse than the living room. An old mattress full of unidentified stains and a three legged chair composed the essential of the room's furniture. A half empty vodka bottle, a crack pipe and a few crystals in a small plastic bag waited for the girl to come back on the floor by the bed. After careful consideration, I dismissed the chair and sat on the bed. I picked up one of the phones I had bought the night before. I dialed.
"It's done." I said the moment I was connected.
"Perfect. Payment will be sent through the usual means." The man's voice said on the other end of the line.
I hung and snapped the phone in half. I took the second phone and dialed another number.
"Jack, is that you?"
"Yes mistress, I'm done here in New York, I should be with you in two days, I picked up a driver."
"Good, we're so eager to have you back with us, don't take too long Jack."
I stretched and looked at my watch. I opened the door to the living room.
"You have a car?"
The girl looked at me blankly from the couch.
"I said: do you have a car?"
"No," she answered shaking her head.
"Do you know anyone who has a car?"
"My pimp does."
"You call him then and tell him to bring it."
Twenty minutes later, someone rang. I readied my silenced glock, hid behind the door and gave the bleached haired girl the signal to open it. A very large man entered the room but before he could say a word I lodged two bullets into the back of his skull. He was dead before hitting the ground.
In a harsh voice I ordered her to take the keys. I walked back to the room; I shoved the crack and the pipe in my pocket, emptied the vodka bottle on the bed and threw a match on it. When I came back to the room she was waiting for me in the doorway with the keys of the car in her hand. I stepped over the body avoiding the pool of the blood that had formed around the head. I grabbed the girl by the elbow and closed the door behind us. The flames where already licking the walls of the living room. The smell of the man followed me all the way down to the street. I was starting to feel thirsty and it wasn't good, I had to get out of town first. We found the car in front of the building. In the distance I could hear the firemen sirens.
I sat behind the wheel and I took the direction of the Georges Washington Bridge. A bit after Newark I left the interstate and drove for a few blocks before stopping in front of what looked like an all night dinner. I needed sustenance and I needed it quickly. I told the girl to stay in the car and sleep for a while. The place was well lit but nearly empty. Two men were having a beer in a small booth. I walked to them.
"You two, get out of here and forget about me."
They got out the door after leaving a useless and quite generous tip on the table. I walked back to the bar. The waitress was cleaning the counter.
"You alone?" I asked.
"Yes," she answered blankly.
"Good," I said.
I jumped over the counter.
"On your knees," I ordered.
She complied obediently. I helped her with my zipper and belt and enjoyed her warm lips over my cold stiffness. When finally I unloaded, I went on satisfying my other need. I then snapped her neck and walked out of the diner. Without waking up the bleached haired whore, I took back the interstate and drove until the morning early lights.
The next night at a gas station I tried to call my mistress but the call didn't get through. I took the wheel and a bit troubled, I drove towards home. On the passenger seat the whore seemed nervous, unable to sleep. Once again I left the highway and stopped on small deserted mountain road. I gave her the crystals collected from the flat. She prepared a pipe and smoked it compulsively. She started to prepare a second one but I took it all back. I didn't know how long I would need her and finding crack in Montana was not easy. Soon she became nervous and aggressive so I stopped again and fucked her senseless on the hood of the car. She finally fell asleep on the back seat. I drove until morning. Before waking her up to take the wheel I tried again to call my mistress. This time the communication went through.