As for who ordered the hit? That’s none of my business. My personal thoughts on my targets and the way they do business is none of my business. I’m here to do a job, and the second I accept that contract, I will do whatever I need to do to get the job done. I don’t fail. I never have.
I have a short list of contracts that I will deny.
Minors. That’s a no-brainer, and while you might think it doesn’t happen, it comes across my screen far more than I care to admit.
Public settings. Again, this is obvious. I’m not looking at gettingcaught, and I also don’t like when something has the potential to get messy. I like clean hits that don’t involve witnesses or causing unnecessary trauma.
Suspiciously high payout figures. This right here is a bright red flag that you’re about to get screwed over. Only desperate or rookie assassins would fall for this shit, and I hate to admit that early on in my career, I was one of those suckers. I learned the hard way how to pick and choose my contracts, and I’ve stuck with that resolve ever since.
Convenient intel. This is a tricky one, and generally it’s something you discover after accepting a contract. When the intel is too convenient or comes too easily, it’s generally a set up. Maybe you’ve accidentally invaded someone else’s turf, or another agency wants you out of the way. This has only ever happened once, and the more intel I found on my target, the quicker my stomach began to sink with dread, and I got out of there as quickly as I could. I like aiming at targets, I don’t like being made one. I went off the radar for a while after that.
In my line of work, you only get to die of old age if you play the game smart. Greed and arrogance get us killed. Not doing your homework and being careless is as good as signing your own death certificate, and I’m not looking at leaving Spikezilla without a momma.
After an hour of thorough research, I’ve found more than just a few leads. I’ve got a plan A and B, right through to plan L, M, N, O, and P. Nothing is going to keep me from completing this hit.
Knowing exactly what I need to do, I log out of my system, pack up my things, and thank Diego for taking such good care of meover the past hour. I promise to return tomorrow for more of those delicious daiquiris.
Javier is hosting a private party for visiting business associates tonight, and judging by the photos posted online, Javier is no stranger to throwing a massive party. They’re apparently legendary around here. My goal is to get my name on the invite list.
Heading back up to my suite, I put my laptop away and pull a flirty sundress over my bikini, and as I touch up my makeup and spritz just a hint of perfume, Milan calls.
“Perfect timing,” I tell her, leaning in toward my bathroom mirror and smacking my lips with gloss. “I just stopped for my first costume change.”
Milan laughs. “Costume change? It’s not a Broadway production.”
“Oh, but it is,” I chime. “Act one, bikini on the beach. That one was for my benefit. Act two, cute sundress that shows just enough skin to have a man question whether I’m here looking for fun or a husband. Act three, sex sells. Haven’t quite figured that one out, but trust me, it’ll be worth it.”
“You know you’re a menace, right?” she asks. “How’s it going anyway? Get all your recon done on the flight?”
“Mostly,” I say, touching up my mascara. “But this one is complicated. There are a lot of big players in this game, and a lot of leads to follow. So far, I haven’t been able to nail down an exact location. There’s too much misinformation. But, he is hosting a party tonight, and I expect him to show his face.”
“Oh, my god. You’ll be partying with the rich and famous in Barcelona. Do you have any idea how good that sounds?” she groans, jealousy thick in her tone. “What kind of party is it? Black-tie, sit down, catered meal kind of thing?”
“Oh no. This party is clearly for getting fucked up and grinding on a cute Spanish boy while taking shots in a million-dollar pool.”
“Damn. I want your life.”
I can’t help but laugh. “It’s gonna be a wild night. For most people. But you know I like to keep my cool at events like this. I won’t be drawing any unnecessary attention. Now, if I were here purely on vacation, that’s a different story.”
“I don’t care. I’m still jealous,” she says. “But you need to be careful. I know you’re the one who officially accepted the job, but that’s a five-million-dollar hit. Other agencies are bound to be sniffing around, and it was posted long enough to have gained the wrong kind of attention.”
“I know. I’ll be careful,” I promise, taking my long, thick hair out of its claw clip and letting it flow down my back. I run my fingers through it for a second, quickly styling it before deciding that’s as good as it’s going to get. My cheeks are a little red from my hour out in the sun, despite being under the shade of the cabana, but I can almost fool myself into believing that it’s nothing more than a light blush.
Not wanting to miss my one shot at getting my name on that list, I wrap up my call with Milan before heading down to the lobby and getting an Uber across town.
This afternoon’s target: Louis Mendez.
He’s a business associate of Javier’s, working primarily in arms dealing. He’s a known playboy who enjoys screwing around on his wife. She knows all about it, and considering how much he’s worth, she turns a blind eye. But it’ll all be worth it soon enough. The moment Javier is out of the picture, Louis will be the one to step up and take the reins, and just like Javier, he’ll get himself killed, and all that agony of having to watch her husband entertain countless other women will finally pay off.
Could I stay with a cheating man? I don’t know. I’ve never loved anyone enough to bother remaining in a relationship long enough to find out. Truth is, I’d probably kill him before I was able to reel in my emotions. But could I do it knowing there were hundreds of millions of dollars coming my way if I were to play the long game? Damn right, I could.
There’s a beachside restaurant where Louis likes to go every time he visits Barcelona, and if the flight logs for his private jet are correct, he only got in late last night and is due for another flight tomorrow morning. If I were going to stage a run-in, then a late lunch at that beachside restaurant before tonight’s big party is going to be my best bet.
Arriving at the restaurant, I head straight for the bar and order a mimosa before sitting down at an outdoor table. The waiter takes my order, and within twenty minutes, I’m sipping on my drink while eating the most delicious salad I’ve ever consumed. Barcelona really isshaping up to be one hell of a treat.
I sit at the table for only forty minutes before Louis Mendez shows his face, and I have to smother the smile that cuts across my lips. That was too easy. If he plans on making it as the head of Javier’s empire after he’s gone, he’s going to have to learn to be a little more discreet.
Louis walks in with a flood of men in designer suits, and they arrogantly take up a table, talking and laughing loud enough to get dirty looks from the other diners. Half of them are already buzzed, the other half are on their way, and as they start demanding attention from the young waitress, I can’t help but feel worried for her.
