They were wearing off-the-rack suits, the men they sent to kill me this time. I made them immediately. They were scanning the patrons without a glance at Mystique working the pole until they spotted me at a side table nursing my Manhattan.
Still, I was taken aback. Such men. In such suits. Had my status declined so far?
I let them settle in. They picked a booth, the amateurs. I’d have to account for the time it would take them to scoot out.
I leisurely finished my drink. Mystique’s G-string had long been discarded, so I tucked the ten between her titties and kissed the air as I headed for the back exit. I didn’t need to check the mirrors behind the stage to know they were scrambling to follow.
Past the men’s room and the utility closet was a door to the alley. The handle warned an alarm would sound, but that was bullshit.
I stepped into the cool night, moved left of the door and waited. There was almost time to light up, but I didn’t want to get careless. Cheap-suited assassins came prematurely. I glanced at the half moon emerging from the clouds and took a deep, bitter breath. Maybe it was time to pack it in. Maybe I was so far off my game that I was a joke, fit for carnival clowns to kill.
I pulled the 9mm from my belt. Gripping its well-worn butt relaxed me. I gave the silencer a final twist and pointed it at the exit.
My timing was perfect as usual. They blundered through in tandem and I gave each a round in the temple before they ever saw me. They fell heavily on the asphalt. I kicked their legs aside and closed the door.
Those suits. Jesus. I couldn’t take my eyes off them. Where could they have gotten them? K-mart?
I felt the twinge before I heard the puff. I’d always thought it would be the other way around.
Then I was on the ground, beside my ill-suited assassins. My eyes focused on the moon, now quartered by the clouds. It looked strangely close. Like I could reach up and touch it.
I tried, but I couldn’t move my body.
I could still turn my head. I let it fall in the direction of the footsteps. A pair of shoes, two-toned John Lobb Oxfords, stepped towards me. Silk socks peeked, for a moment, beneath exquisitely-tailored pants, Brioni, if I had to guess from my vantage.
I didn’t feel the second bullet at all.
L.E. Elder usually writes short stories for first graders. Elder’s stories for grown-ups have appeared in Ideomancer and Literary LEO.
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11 Responses to “THE HIT • by L.E. Elder”
Comments
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May 26th, 2008 at 3:56 am
I enjoyed that.
May 26th, 2008 at 4:31 am
Well at least the assassin was properly suited up!
May 26th, 2008 at 5:54 am
Nicely done.
May 26th, 2008 at 10:24 am
Charming if a story about assassins can be charming. I liked it.
May 26th, 2008 at 11:23 am
Tight and enjoyable. Well-executed characterization. I liked it.
May 26th, 2008 at 1:40 pm
nicely executed…thumbs up
May 26th, 2008 at 2:43 pm
At least the protag went out in style. Nice one.
May 26th, 2008 at 5:04 pm
Tight and sweet. Well done!
May 27th, 2008 at 4:14 pm
Tight, Nicely done.
May 30th, 2008 at 12:06 pm
Love the irony and humor. Engaged all of my senses and my funny bone as well. Superb job. Don’t read this one to the 1st graders though!
June 1st, 2008 at 12:05 am
Great pacey read.
Jennifer