Trouble in Town

Sharp blue eyes followed the target steadily even as it ran speedily. The sound of the wind was the only thing in his keen ear as he timed his breathing. The target was moving away...fast. He ought to be worried that it would disappear from his line of sight in a matter of seconds, but worry was only a form of distraction. One had to be precise in these things and have their sights set solely on the target, their mind too.

A soft whizz rang in the air and the target dropped to the ground. Not quite fast enough.

He remained in his position, waiting to see if there was any sign of movement from the once living form. Nothing.

"Got him?" the voice came from the receiver in his ear.

"Got him." he responded, as he finally eased his stance.

"Nice job. Now leave before anyone notices you."

"On my way." he replied as he picked up the violin case in which he kept his arms. The line went dead and he proceeded to leave the top of the roof.

He turned to his left, the violin case strapped to his back. He zeroed his eyes on the roof of the next building and then took off in high speed. In one leap, he landed effortlessly on the next roof, and on the next, until he got to the fourth roof top. He stood to his full height, dusted up his clothes and walked casually into the building. There was an elevator to his left, which he stepped into and pressed the button to the last floor.

Once the elevator dinged at the last floor, it opened up and he walked out into the hallway. There was already a bit of a raucous, most likely caused by the murder that had just occurred.

Without taking even as much as a glance at anyone else, he stepped into the open night air. A sleek, black car parked at the curb just in time and he slipped into the back seat. No words needed to be said to the driver, who moved the car as soon as he was inside, leaving behind the impending chaos.

****

"Happy birthday!"

The loud sound burst into Alonso's ear drums and he winced partly at the sound. His eyes scanned the moderately filled room of smiling, familiar faces, finally settling on the cake being presented to him by Dana. Who invited her?

Laughter filled the room and random shouts of congratulations as everyone huddled close to him. He walked through most of the crowd, only bothering to mutter a greeting to some and force a smile at others, as he got pats on the back.

He hadn't expected this welcome after returning from a hit, but it was just like his uncle to pull something like this. He had thought he would come home to some silence, a nice bath and a brief rest, but that was off the table now.

He was 21-years old today. It had totally skipped his mind. Then again, didn't most things? He moved like a robot, he had been moving like that since he turned 10 and his Uncle decided it was time to stop babying him. He had been a man since his 10th birthday unofficially, today, was just some formalization of his status.

He reached the bar, where his uncle was standing, a smile upon his fairly weathered face. Anselm was approaching 55, but he was still strong and active. He was less involved in the activities of the mafia than he was about fifteen years ago, he said he was easing himself out to make way for a new boss.

Alonso knew he was the new boss.

It wasn't the kind of job one had to apply for. He just got it because he was 'familia'...how he wished one could choose family.

This wasn't a life he wanted. He didn't want to spend his youth killing people, harassing them, fighting and torturing...it was a sad life. Even as he was young, there was so much weight on his shoulders and no one to share it with. He had been alone all his life as far as he was concerned.

Both his parents were gone. His mother died birthing him and his father...well, according to his uncle, one day, he just vanished off the face of the earth. He swore he had deployed resources and men in the entire country and nobody could find his father. Alonso found that incredibly hard to believe, but since he had never gotten to see the man since he was born...what was there to not believe?

"Alonso, my boy. You're a man now" he said, as he gripped Alonso's broad shoulders. The kid was only 21, but he could pass for 26 or older. He was built solidly, taking on his father's structure. He wasn't quite as tall as Ares, but he was hard to ignore when he walked into a room, aside physical looks, he also came away with many of his father's other traits. He had amazing strength, the last time he was knocked down in a fight was when he was thirteen, since then, he had bested every man he went into combat with. He was also sleek with a gun or a katana. He didn't have a better marksman on his payroll. But the best part of Alonso, as far as Anselm was concerned, was his eye for strategy. The boy was brilliant, he knew an opportunity when he saw one and an obstruction when he saw one. The first time he had made a suggestion and Anselm discarded it, had been the last. He was his most prized gem...but sometimes, he was just like his mother. He was soft. He shrouded it with strength these days, but Anselm knew his nephew took no joy in the family business. He hoped that he would eventually grow into it all and realize that this was what he would have to do for the rest of his life. Once he got acquainted with it, that soft side of him would diminish

"I didn't even remember it was my birthday." he said.

Anselm smiled, "Glad to see you're settling into your status. Birthdays are for kids and women, men do not look forward to such frivolities, they only mark achievements. Have you seen Dana?"

Alonso rolled his eyes in response.

"She baked you that cake, you know?" he asked, a glint in his eyes, "You should show her some appreciation, maybe fuck her once and for all, so she can get off your dick."

Alonso cringed at his uncle's use of terms. He didn't want to fuck Dana or any woman for that matter. He had managed to keep himself off their radar for the last two years, he found no joy in sex anymore. Hell, he was disgusted by the women who threw themselves at him and Dana was high up on that list

"I think I'll pass Unc'."

Anselm let out a thunderous laughter, "The thought of getting lost between a woman's thighs does nothing for you, my boy?"

"I have far more productive things to invest my time in, Uncle." Alonso replied.

Anselm smiled, "Smart boy. Women are the easiest way to ruin a man. I've taught you well." He beamed, "Come, I think you've earned yourself a Cuban for your good work tonight. I knew you were the man to pull the job off." He said as he reached for a case filled with his prized Cuban cigars

"Actually, I was thinking I could just clean up and go to bed." Alonso said, his eyes following the case warily. He enjoyed a smoke occasionally, but he was in no mood to think away his troubles with a smoke. He just wanted to wash off the memory.

"Well, you can't possibly retire early, this is your party."

Alonso spared a glance around the room, it looked like a shindig for his uncle. None of this had anything to do with him, "Doesn't feel like it." he muttered more to himself, than anyone else.

"Hey, baby." a loud, chirpy voice said beside him. Alonso's skin crawled as soon as the sound hit him. He knew it even in his sleep, and it was never a positive reaction when he heard that voice.

His uncle grinned, "Dana, just in time. Birthday boy here was about to bail on us. Why don't you keep him around a while longer?" he said as he sipped on his glass of whiskey, he walked away from the pair.

Alonso followed his uncle's retreating form, holding back the anger within him, "So, why don't you like your party?" Dana asked, her hand moving from his arm to his chest.

Alonso took her straying hand and dropped it to her side, "Maybe it's you I don't like." he stated coldly. On that note, he turned away from her and headed out of the living room. The guests could all enjoy themselves, but he was in no mood for a party.

***

The next few days, were thankfully free of any meetings with his uncle. While Alonso was a bit thankful for that, the knowledge that a meeting would be coming up before the end of the week looked over him still.

The meeting would be about their next target. Anselm didn't like competition, and even as the Soldado crime family was still the top dog on these streets, many others were coming for their crown. Those others had to be cut down before they became uncontrollable.

No one ever said a word, but Alonso was the chief executioner within them. Hell, he was starting to think he was everything and Anselm was just a figurehead leader. He would never say that to anyone's hearing though.

He had been bidding his time, making his own personal plans on leaving the family. He didn't know how feasible it would be to leave at all, he had never seen anyone successfully leave the group without ending up dead or missing. He had considered approaching his uncle to explain his intentions, but that would be suicidal. What he really wanted to do, was find his father; he was grown now and since his father didn't think it necessary to find him, he might as well take up the challenge. The problem was, he barely had anything with which to identify his father. The man had no pictures and all his uncle had was a first name- Ares. No surname, nothing. There were a thousand people on the internet with that name. He figured he wouldn't find his father through that means...maybe he stood a higher chance going on the road or something...anything to get away from New York.

"Penny for your thoughts?" a deep voice said from behind him.

He turned in his seat to find Salvador, his closest friend and sometimes, confidant, "Hey Sal." he sighed

"You don't sound happy to see me."

Alonso managed a tiny smile, "Trust me, this has nothing to do with you."

Salvador lowered himself into the seat next to him, "Wanna talk about it?"

Alonso pondered on the offer. Did he really want to talk about it? Salvador was his close friend, but he was also part of this crime family and was fiercely loyal to his uncle. He had never told anyone about his plans to go away and he didn't think it was wise to divulge that right now, "Nah, I've just been thinking about the future, you know?" he asked, hoping Salvador did 'know'.

"You mean the future that has you as the top boss? Patience brother, soon, we'll be the ones at the helm of affairs and everyone in this city will take notice."

Alonso managed a small smile, but couldn't stop the disappointment that overwhelmed him on the inside. Salvador didn't know; he was absolutely clueless. It was too early to tell anyone a thing about his plans, he needed to keep everything close to his chest for now.

****

The tab was moved until it fell in front of Alonso. He studied the image of a middle-aged black man with a salt and pepper beard and close cropped hair. His brown eyes stared back at him intensely and he had a mean look to him. He looked nothing like a street thug, but there were elements of danger surrounding him. Alonso could sense it.

"Victor Hamilton, your next target. He moved down to New York three years ago from Switzerland, prior to that he has lived in Germany and Estonia, but is originally from London. His side gig is Real Estate, but he's a big time drug kingpin when he isn't fronting with the property business. He's disturbing our business, taking some of our big associates in, offering them deals they can't say no to. He needs to go." Anselm said

Alonso stared at the picture, there was something about this man that oozed power. He wouldn't be as easy to take down as the rest of their targets. He was a big fish, he probably had hundreds of men in his employ and kept numerous guards. A man like him would have the sense to do that surely.

"Do you have any more Intel on him? His daily schedule, his security, his home address and layout?" he asked

"There's a folder in that tab concerning all the information we have on him. He doesn't have a strict routine per say, but he is usually home alone for six hours every Friday, that's the only constant in his schedule. We've been trailing him for the last five months, that's solid info."

Alonso mulled over the information, finding it somewhat odd, "Do you know why he's home alone for six hours? Is he doing anything in that time? Meeting friends? Does he have a wife? Children?"

"There is no information concerning his family. He was married with a child about sixteen years ago, but both his wife and the kid vanished into thin air since that time. Rumors say he killed them."

He raised his head up for the first time and looked over at his uncle, "Why would he do that?"

Anselm shrugged, "You never know the motives behind a man's decision. Maybe he didn't want any family ruining his business."

That sounded incredibly stupid. How would a man kill his wife and his own child because of business? It made no sense. Were there even men like that? He returned his gaze to the image. Even if there were men like that, Victor Hamilton didn't seem that heartless...or was he reading him wrong?

"This Friday, you'll be going to his house and checking up on Victor. He's special, so I don't want his death to be easy."

Shit! No words sent chills down Alonso's spine faster than "he's special"...the special ones got the special treatment. He would have to get out his tools for this one.

"You want him?"

Anselm shrugged, "Maybe after you've ruffled him up a little."

From the looks of this guy, ruffling him up would be no mean feat.

*****

The time on his watch read 12:05. Four cars had left the Hamilton residence minutes ago and the home looked very much deserted.

He had about six hours to finish up what he was here for, far too much time to some, but considering he still wasn't sure what he was dealing with here, he could have asked for more. He had a waiting period of thirty minutes before he went into the house, there was no wisdom in barging in as soon as the guards left, it was very much possible they could return for something they had forgotten, so, the waiting period was a necessity for him.

Alonso double checked the tools in his violin case, he had foregone a gun this time. Anselm had suggested he go with one, but he countered that this was no gun fight. Having a gun would imply that this would be easy and he expected it to be anything but. His knives were the trusted equipment when he had to go on special missions such as this and unlike guns, which left shell casings behind, the knife did a cleaner job. Thankfully, his uncle knew better than to question his decisions.

He snuck into the palatial building after hacking into the motherboard of the alarm systems and disabling them. According to the plan of the house, there was an entrance aside from the front and back doors. He took that entrance and found himself in a hallway. He moved stealthily through it, the house was eerily quiet, which made him keep a keen ear. He reached the end of the hallway, it led to a living room that looked like it came straight out of a home décor magazine. Victor Hamilton had a decent taste...where was Victor Hamilton?

Alonso saw the hand flying toward him in record time and blocked the first hit, successive ones came at him and he blocked them consecutively without breaking a sweat. Hands and legs came at him. Victor was fast, but Alonso was twice as fast and had youth on his side. He caught hold of one fist coming his way and bent the arm- hard, a groan tore out of Victor's throat as Alonso pulled his hand behind him. He reached into his back pocket, unwilling to risk losing his grip on him, retrieved the syringe he had kept there and stuck it into Victor's neck. The man grunted at the pain, but he wasn't conscious for much longer after that, as his body grew heavy. Alonso held him up and led him to one of the chairs. He wouldn't be moving him until he was conscious, but first, he had to make sure he didn't try anything funny when he came to...he also had to make sure he was the only one in this house

******

"The house is clear." Alonso said into the ear piece, as he stood in front of the large pool. Victor seemed to be a man who treasured his comfort and having gone the length and breadth of this house, he had many of such treasures. He found all of the souvenirs that spoke of his many travels and the man's book collection was something to marvel at. His study was twice the size of his uncle's, and the books he had seen on the shelf ranged from literature to geography and business, he was obviously an avid reader and Alonso respected that a lot. Aside his book collection and souvenirs, it was hard to tell the kind of man Victor Hamilton really was; there was no incriminating evidence lying carelessly anywhere around, the house was clean, no trace of criminal activity. If the man happened to die inside here and the police had to comb the place, his epithet would read that he was an honest and honorable man who had a thing for the Arts and traveling.

"You sure?"

"Yep. He's got nothing."

"Huh, smart guy then." Anselm observed.

"You could say that."

"Well, make sure to ruffle him a bit before bringing him over, I want him weak and begging when he has to face me."

"Of course." Alonso responded, from what he could tell of Victor Hamilton though, he didn't see him begging at any point in the near future. He was obviously a prideful man like his uncle; he would rather die than beg.

"Good job as usual."

"Yeah. See you in a bit." Alonso responded blandly

As soon as he cut the line, he felt the shift in the wind and moved his head swiftly. A long arm barely missed the side of his face. What the fuck was this? No, who the fuck was this?

Just like Victor had come at him, this person threw another punch. From his side, he caught a profile of dark hair in ring curls. This better not be a chic. He finally turned fully to find his assailant was indeed a chic. A really stunning chic.

It was only a beat, no more than half a second, he attempted to block, but he was late. A fist hit him square in the nose, unsettling him briefly, before he could catch his bearings, a quick kick to his shin followed, and like she had more than two legs, he felt another kick to his ankles. His legs gave away underneath him and Alonso felt his back hit the ground for the first time in 8 years, knocking the wind out of him. Shit!

A booted foot hovered over his face, but he didn't lie on his back and take any more beating, his hand caught hold of a nude ankle and pulled, a yelp tore out of her throat and ended in a grunt as she fell right next to him. His hand remained on her ankle and even as she went to ground, she made an attempt to kick him off with her other leg, he dodged the oncoming boot, failing to release her ankle.

"Fucking bastard!" he heard her growl.

It was bad enough she had taken him to the ground, now she was calling him names? He had just about had it with taking it easy on this one. He dragged her body lower and raised himself up so he hovered over her.

A loud smack hit his face. Shit! He should have held her hands. He grabbed both with one hand and placed them above her head, then put some of his weight on her thighs, to stop her wiggling legs.

By the time he was done arranging them both so that he had her secured, he felt a bit breathless, that was a first. He raised his eyes to look at the person who had him in this state and he met fiery brown eyes that rendered him speechless for a brief second. He forced his eyes to leave those eyes and scan the rest of her face; finely arched, dark brows, high cheekbones, a button nose and the most succulently full, bow-shaped lips he had ever seen on a person, all coated in rich, brown skin, held him spellbound.