The Assassin

The cross hairs were aimed at his heart.

She didn't normally aim for the heart, but this was personal.

She was silent, one with her environment. Her pulse beat the same rhythm as the air around her. She was in the void and he was already dead. He just didn't know it yet.

She exhaled and squeezed the trigger, snatching a quick glimpse to see the bullet hit true.

Now the real game started.

She packed up her .223 rifle, snapped the case shut, strapped her gear-bag to her back and made her exit.

She had chosen a rooftop overlooking the square.

She descended the stairs and entered the elevator. The assassin was counting the seconds in her head. It would take approximately 10 for the involved people to realise what had happened. The first thing they would do is mobilise the special ops unit, then they would phone the cops. She sighed inwardly.

The Police. So far she had not needed to kill any of them, in this city. It would them another 20 seconds to arrive and then 30 to pinpoint her building. That left her with 15 seconds to disappear once she cleared the building.

The assassin left the elevator and exited the building via the front door. The key was to act like you belonged. Nothing was out of place, everything was normal. She walked with measured steps toward the train station, her clothes aiding her unassuming appearance. All that tight leather and straps from the movies was, just that, from the movies.

No professional could do their job looking like a dominatrix.

She entered the station and took the route leading to her connection.

Once on the train she had 3 seconds left before the so-called authorities would swarm her building.

Good thing she was gone.

The assassin smiled for the first time in 48 hours.

**********************

"Sir, you need to get out of here. Marx's people are bound to be looking for you."

Jason looked up from the report he was reading and noticed the panicked edge to his employee's voice.

"Why would they? I have nothing to do with this." He returned his attention to his report and hoped that his head of security would take the clue and leave him be.

"Sir, your father..." Jason cut him off, "For god's sake Eric, I am not my father! I have nothing to do with this childish feud and I sure as hell have nothing to do with the murder!"

The murder of Ranier Marx had come unexpectedly and he could see why people would think that his father had a hand in it, but he knew his father. His father was not capable of murder, not even indirectly.

"Actually Sir, the word is that you ordered the hit on Marx. Apparently since last week Marx was the only obstacle standing between you and the High-Seat of Alcor."

Jason was shocked. "What? Me? That's laughable! I don't even want Alcor!" He took a breath and tried to calm himself. Was he taking this situation to lightly? If it really was said that he killed Marx, then he was in a lot of trouble. The House would want retribution and only his blood would avenge their leader.

"I need to get off the Grid and disappear, at least for a few days or until the police find the real killer." Fat chance of that, but he made up his mind and hoped it would all blow over soon. He would hide out and take a few days off, in fact, he hadn't take off in months, not since Selena left.

"Eric, organise everything and bring me word in three days"

*************************

The assassin was staying over at a safe-house 15 clicks out of town, she knew about it from a friend in Secret Service. It was abandoned; apparently the previous mission had compromised its location. No-one would be looking for her here; they would be shutting down airports and watching all means of transport out. She would just stay put for a few days and then head out of the country, starting her new life, whatever it may be.

Contemplating her new found situation, she went about cleaning herself up and cooking a proper meal. She relished the normalcy of the evening, no surveillance, no training and no burning hatred for the man who murdered her family.

Only food and sleep.

She awoke instantly. The car had probably stopped about 40 meters away and now the footsteps were approaching from the South. The assassin silently pulled her gun from beneath her pillow and moved into an alcove across from the stairs. The house was dark; she would be hidden by the shadows.

The front door opened and the lights clicked on, the first floor flooded with luminescent light.

That was strange; the person was obviously not looking for her, whoever it was believed the house to be empty, a good advantage.

She moved to get a closer look, at the same time the new-comer started climbing the stairs.

She had her 9 mm pointing at his chest before he could take another step.

"Show me your hands and slowly retreat," her voice was hoarse. When last had she spoken? She followed the man as he moved into the living room, watching her face instead of the gun. So this was a trained man, he had probably been millimeters away from his own gun when she had stopped him.

"Who are you?" he asked. Once in the light she could see that he wasn't nervous, merely curious and she thought extremely self-assured.

"Give me your gun" she said, keeping her tone neutral. There was a slight widening of his eyes, as if he was shocked that she knew he had one. He handed her his gun from behind his belt and she proceeded to stick it behind hers, "Who I might be is not important, what is important is that you will be dead within five seconds if I don't learn who you are." She was amused by the absolute confidence exuding from this man, standing there unarmed and relaxed. He smiled at her and she was forced to take another look at him, he was handsome.

"You are not going to kill me," his accent was faintly familiar as he arrogantly laid the statement out for her, "if you shoot me now, then your place of safety is also compromised. I'm judging from your lack of proper clothing that you were asleep when I arrived, and not waiting in ambush of my life."

He folded his arms across his expansive chest in triumph and a gorgeous mischievous grin played across his lips.

It was her turn to be caught off guard, she looked down. Shit. She was only wearing a g-string and a sports bra.

"I work this way, it makes my victims feel more comfortable," she lowered her gun but kept it pointing in his direction.

"Oh I see, your target fee must be expensive with the extra services you offer," He was obviously enjoying this. Indignation rushed through her when she realised that he had pinned her as an assassin, what did he know about target fees? She was intrigued by this man, if a little irritated, but she felt safer pointing the barrel at his head.

"Why are you here?"

"Long story short, I'm running for my life." He seemed serious. She motioned him toward the kitchen and sat down across from him at the table. "There any coffee in this place?" he sounded so genuine and he seemed so relaxed that she couldn't help but laugh.

"I'm holding a gun to your head; I suggest before anyone gets any refreshment, you explain to me how it is you know about a CSS level 8 safe-house?" She walked around the table until she was directly opposite him, gun pointed at his forehead and her frame towering over him on the chair.

Finally he spoke, "I have some friends in high places," he looked up "and I have CSS level 10 clearance. I imagine that you know that it is illegal to disclose such information."

She swallowed; she hadn't seen that one coming.

"Ok, so here's how we are going to proceed," she moved back to her side of the table, but kept the pistol angled at his head. "We co-exist in the same safe-house for the night; then I leave in the morning. We never came across each other and according to you, I don't exist."

She cocked the gun.

The resounding click of metal against metal spanned the silence that ensued.

"Fine," he sounded resigned, "on one condition, you make the coffee."

She laughed as she disarmed her gun.

This might just be fun.

*********************************

The girl was hot. And she handled her weapon like she'd been born with it in her hand. If she wanted to kill him, she could've done so when he turned his back to get the milk out the fridge. Now they were just talking, amazingly about anything and everything besides the reasons why they were both hiding in a safe-house.

"No the .223 is better than the .338, it's a common misconception, especially amongst men," she was so effortlessly serious about all of this stuff that he was stunned. How did he handle a woman such as this? Most of the girls he dated talked about fashion and push-up bras, this was a whole new level of intelligence and he was unsure how to proceed.

"Please tell me your name so I can talk to you like a normal person," he tried to keep his voice serene and neutral, but she instantly tensed at the request for information.

"No. No names. I'm leaving in the morning and I don't need anyone knowing that I was ever here, so ask me one more time and I'll put a bullet through your patella." She delivered the speech with a measure of confidence that made him a little apprehensive. She would do it.

"Ok fine, what about a compromise. I give you something and you tell me only your first name." How can this be so difficult? It was just a name. She seemed to be considering his suggestion,

"Ok," she said "take off your clothes."

"What?" Had he heard correctly?

She repeated, "Take off your clothes, starting with your belt"

"You want me to remove my clothes and then you'll tell me your name?" He enthusiastically started to loosen his belt.

"No, first you shall indulge i decide whether or not you are good enough. Then after you have given me several orgasms, I might consider telling you my name."

His cock reacted first. Did she just say that? Judging by the stiffness in his boxers, she had indeed.

He continued to remove his clothes, not trusting himself to speak, lest he burst this bubble of sheer miracle that had just enveloped his life.

She stood there in her underwear, holding the 9 mm and watching his every move. He became aware of her perfectly sculpted body, so fit and muscular. Once he had removed every stitch, her eyes widened a little and her face flushed. His penis was impressive; it was rock hard and standing at attention.

He felt somewhat uncomfortable under her inscrutable gaze.

But she smiled and finally she clicked the safety in to place and placed her gun on the shelf.

She stepped forward and pressed her body into his, encircling his neck and bringing her lips close to his mouth.

He met her halfway and kissed her, tentatively at first. But it was instant. He inhaled her scent and felt desire like fire searing through him. Her tongue was exploring his and his breaths accompanied intoxicating anticipation.

He ran his hands down her body and felt the movement of her muscles as she balanced the weight of his body moving into hers. She reached down and removed her bra in one fluid motion, revealing big nipples and a flat stomach.

She was considerably shorter than him, so he picked her up by the back of her thighs and raised her just high enough to be able to enclose his mouth around an erect nipple. She gasped, pulling him closer and pressing herself against his erection.

He moved to the bed and continued sucking her nipples and breasts as he lay her down, she grasped his cock and sensually moved her hand up and down.

He pulled off the last of her underwear and ran two fingers through her slit. She was wet and moaning. He placed his cock over her pussy and leaned in to kiss her. She pushed her pussy onto his cock, wrapping her legs around his waist.

As she embraced him more firmly, he plunged his penis into her.

It felt like chemistry, so right. He slowly pulled himself out and then pushed back in again, her wet pussy opening up to accommodate him.

Moaning, she pushed him onward, and faster. He rode her harder as they looked into each other's eyes.

Her pussy started to contract and he felt his release beckoning. She urged him deeper and faster and he focused on hitting her clit with every thrust. Soon she was gasping and preparing for orgasm as his ready to explode cock thrusts in and out of her, he tried to stop himself but then she was coming and he couldn't keep it in anymore, he plunged into her for three more deep thrusts and then it was there.

His exquisite release and her shuddering beneath him, moaning and beautiful.

He collapsed down beside her and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath; he asked "So what's your name?"

She looked up with a glint in her eye and a smile.

"I remember saying "several" orgasms."