Day 251 – Half Hour Hitman – Part 18

Pathetic attempt today, sorry. I am really, really, really, really, really tired. Moving house! Soon I will only have ONE place to clean! Roll on Saturday!

Word count: 527

The Half Hour Hitman left the phone hanging in the public phone box. As he walked out he heard a low voice repeatedly asking who he was. He ignored it though. Fortrose was not ready to know at this point. He needed to be lured in.

The busy street consumed the Half Hour Hitman, and soon he was just another face in the crowd. Nothing about him drew attention. He slithered through the throng of shoppers like snake. No done would see him, no one would care. No one would notice him getting on a bus, no one would look back or make way for him. He was anonymous as the pavement itself; grey, invisible to attention.

It was February, the fourteenth to be precise. The Half Hour Hitman had travelled all the way into the city centre of London just to make that call. The cold wind snapped at his skin, but he did not care. Gloveless, he cared only that he had succeeded in his mission. Now he need only return to his mansion.

Everything was complicated. The Half Hour Hitman was trying to assess everything in his head. Andy was passed out at home, lying in the cupboard tied up and unconscious. The risk of leaving him alone in the open was too great, but returning home what else could be done? The Half Hour Hitman knew he needed to protect him at all costs. He needed to keep him secret – to keep him out of sight.

Since the first night that they had met, the Half Hour Hitman knew that he needed to kill Andy. This was not only through the contract to which he had been signed to, but from the moment that he had broken it and kept Andy alive. It was the single most stupid action he had ever done in his life. After three whole decades of building a career centring around emotionless killing, this was the first occasion that he had stopped to think and care about the person he would be murdering. The contract on his name was odd enough. The Half Hour Hitman had researched him for a day – that was all he had been given by his client. Andy was not the usual victim. He was not into crime or not in some trio of serial adulterers, rejected lovers or even a thief. He was a simple man, but as soon as the Half Hour Hitman had seen him, the contract was off. There was something not right about the entire thing and the professional assassin was absolutely sure that Andy had no clue of it himself.

Three months in, though, the scenario had changed. Andy was missed. Andy was being hunted. Andy needed to disappear – even more than he had already. The police were slowing coming to the conclusions that the Half Hour Hitman wanted them to. But they couldn’t all be allowed to believe that Andy was dead. Fortrose was the tricky one. He was clever, intelligent and cunning. The Half Hour Hitman could not run from this man for too long, so there was only one thing left: to speak with him.

~ by S.G. Mark on June 14, 2012.

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