Fan Fiction ❯ Assassin ❯ Chapter 1

Notes: The setting is the very near future, within a hundred years from now. Details have been deliberately left vague.

Backdating: This was written in May 2005.

The elderly man sat in a secluded alcove at the back of the smoky bar. A half-full pint of beer sat in front of him; he sipped desultorily at his drink and listened to the talk flowing around the bar as he waited for his appointment. At a nearby table, two minor politicians struck up a new conversation, and the man focused his attention on them without a single visible indication of the change.

"So you really think the Finance Minister is on her way up?"

"I told you. They say she's hired the Assassin. The Prime Minister will be dead before morning. I hope you've been buttering her up recently."

"The Assassin? Ha! He's only a legend. If he was real, he'd be in a retirement home by now. They say he had his fingers in the 2013 uprising, for all love! No, she's just trying to scare the Prime Minister into falling in line with her plans. Not that it changes anything - don't worry, I know which way the wind blows here."

"I wouldn't be so sure that he's not real. Interpol has-"

The speaker cut off abruptly as a woman walked by their table and sat down across from the old man. She was in her thirties, sharply professional, in a perfectly tailored suit with perfectly applied make-up, perfectly manicured nails and perfectly coifed dark hair. Her hard brown eyes were cold and lifeless. She was beautiful, and he instantly disliked her. Not that like or dislike had any bearing on business affairs.

"I'm surprised you came yourself," he commented. "People are talking."

"Which simply proves that I cannot trust my underlings with such a sensitive manner." Her smile was fixed and artificial. "It doesn't matter. In these times, anyone who rises to the office of Prime Minister knows the risk they're taking." She reached into her handbag and pulled out a bankcard. "Two million in this account, another three to be transferred into it after you do the job. I would advise transferring it as soon as possible to avoid being traced. As I said, I do not trust my underlings."

His gloved fingers brushed hers as he took the card. "One wonders why you want the job, with the usual life expectancy that comes with the position."

Her eyes flashed with the first real emotion he'd seen her display yet. "I have my reasons."

"I'm sure." The elderly man stood and tipped his hat to her, an old-fashioned gesture rare in this modern era. "It's a pity you're so careless." Her smile was still fixed in place, perhaps a bit more stiff than before, but now her dark eyes blazed with hatred. "Good day, Madam Finance Minister. I regret being forced to cancel our arrangement, but the Prime Minister paid me more."

The deadly paralytic agent wouldn't finish its work until he was well away, but no one here would dare disturb such an influential person until it was too late to help. Her reputation for vengefulness and cruelty was too frightening to risk irritating her. Humming tunelessly under his breath, the old man strolled out the door.