Bella

After they returned from school the next day, Bella prepared herself. She opened the package that had preceded her arrival and studied the contents. She removed some jewellery and laid it on the bed.

Arnold was changing into casual clothes when he heard the knock at his door. The teacher had become Bella again and she walked to a chair. She sat down with a serious expression and his feeling of foreboding suddenly returned. He seated himself opposite and waited.

She spoke quietly. "I promised to tell you who I am and why I am here. I like you Arnold, do you like me?"

"Of course I do. You are the most delightful and exciting person I have ever known. Why do you ask?"

She paused before she replied, "Well you may not like me when I have finished my story."

He could feel his heart quicken and he clenched his fists nervously.

She hesitated and then started, "My mother left when I was five. I think she was a prostitute and probably a drug addict. My father remained but I more or less looked after myself. Then his brother moved in and they both began to sexually abuse me. I didn't go to school until I was eight and I took myself along to see what it was like. I couldn't get on with the other kids because they all seemed stupid to me.

Most of my early education came from watching documentaries on television. Occasionally a welfare person would turn up but my father threatened to kill me if I said anything about the abuse.

Both of them continued to rape me and then it became more devious. They would force objects into my vagina and take photographs. My baby making equipment is now defunct."

He could feel her pain and gasped, "You poor child."

"When I looked in their computer, they were exchanging photos of me around the world. It stopped only when they both died."

"Both of them? How did they die?"

She stared at him silently and he felt his buttocks clench.

She replied calmly, "I killed them. I buried a knife into both of them while they slept. It was on my ninth birthday."

He closed his eyes and put his face into his hands. Mixed emotions of disgust, horror and sympathy churned through his mind. After a minute of silence he recovered his composure and looked back at her. He tried to sound casual as he asked, "What happened next?"

"I went to the police and told them what I had done and showed them the photos on the computer. They took me to a hospital and I didn't see anyone except doctors and psychiatrists for weeks. They were actually very nice to me.

Then one day a woman came into my room and said she wanted to talk to me. She said I couldn't go home and I would have to spend a long time in prison because of my crimes. But she said I could avoid all of that if I went with her to another place. I really didn't care so I went with her.

I spent the next ten years with many people in many different places in the world. I was trained in martial arts and taught how to use weapons. I learned many cultures and my knowledge of the human anatomy is more extensive than most surgeons. I am now twenty-one years of age.

Of course the woman who collected me was from Trove. I know you send reports to them Arnold but do you know what the Trove agency really is?"

He shook his head slowly.

"It is an international organisation that makes its own rules. The name stands for 'The Removal of Vermin Expedited'. It ignores laws and treaties and also human rights. It's a corner-cutter and it doesn't waste time or money. It was originally set up by international billionaires who were tired of their governments and police forces pussyfooting around. Governments know of its existence but they turn a blind eye. If a quick fix is needed, Trove will deal with it.

When I suggested that I wasn't normal, I really meant it. While I was in the hospital they discovered that I have an IQ of one-ninety and total recall. I speak many languages and becoming fluent in another comes easily to me. I am able to scan one hundred thousand words in less than an hour and memorise every one."

She looked at him solemnly and said, "I am an assassin Arnold and I'm the smartest killer on the planet."

He stared at her with a blank and uncomprehending expression as his mind rejected her statement. She returned his gaze impassively and he felt an impulse to giggle foolishly. It was not possible. How could this beautiful young girl who had taken him to the stratosphere of ecstasy, murder people in cold blood?

He closed his eyes and shapeless horrors tumbled through his imagination. He wanted to ask so many questions but none that came to mind seemed appropriate. Eventually he whispered, "How many?"

"None of them deserved to live."

He opened his eyes as the obvious question came to him. "Why are you here now?"

"Alek Dimitrov."

Her answer shocked him. "Are you crazy? The man is a monster, a sadistic killer. A dismembered body found outside the French embassy was well known to be one of his doings. No one could possibly get near him. Even the police are on his payroll."

"I'm aware of all that. I need to ask you a question and I want an honest answer. Do you like your job Arnold?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Not very much. It has no future and I'm not over the moon about this country anyway."

"Where would you rather be?"

He smiled. "I've often thought that I would like to retire to France or Italy or somewhere like that. You know, laze in the sun and drink their wine. Sadly I don't have any money and I don't own anything of value, so that's out."

"How about Switzerland?"

"Yes, that's a nice clean country with civilised people. I went there for a short holiday once. Why are you asking me all this?"

"There is a reason. I have friends in Switzerland and I own some property there. There is very little restriction on EU citizens taking up their residency. I own property in lots of places."

He raised his eyebrows. "Are you very wealthy?"

"Yes I am. I told you that I'm a clever girl and hacking into computers is child's play to me. I've taken some from here and some from there and it mounts up."

It was one shocking admission after another. "So you're a thief as well as a killer."

"I take only from people who have no right to it in the first place. The sort who don't report the loss when they discover that it's missing."

He looked puzzled. "I thought Trove had a hold on you. If you're self-sufficient, why do you go on doing what you do?"

"I'm addicted to the danger and I've convinced myself that I'm providing the world with a beneficial service. How long would it take you to pack a bag and find your passport?"

He was mystified but he answered, "About ten minutes. Is it likely to become necessary?"

"I'm afraid so. Unfortunately they know I'm living here. It was unavoidable because I couldn't show them that I knew I was being followed."

Arnold could feel panic rising. "Who followed you? What the hell are you talking about?"

"Dimitrov's men. I've been working privately as a hooker in the Central Park Hotel. Dimitrov owns the prostitution around here and I've been deliberately trespassing. They will probably pick me up tonight."

He was now thoroughly frightened. "What will they do to you and how do I come into it?"

She seemed quite calm as she replied, "They may rough me up but they won't kill me because they'll want to use me. An attractive English hooker is a valuable asset. It's the only way I can get close to him.

If I am successful it will be like killing the queen in a nest of ants; they will all run around in confusion. But then they will come looking for me and if I'm not here, they will ask you where I am. They won't ask nicely and even if you can't tell them what they want to know it will make no difference because they will kill you anyway."

He put his face in his hands. "God almighty, one week ago my life was normal and now it's gone crazy and I'm going to be murdered."

She knelt in front of him and rested her hands on his knees. She commanded, "Look at me Arnold." He lowered his hands and his face was contorted with fear. "You are not going to die because I am very fond of you and I won't let anyone hurt you."

She reached for her bag and took out an envelope. "In here is more than enough money to get you on a flight to Zurich. When you get there, you ring the number that I've written and someone will come and collect you. You will live in one of my places and I've opened a bank account with sufficient funds for you to survive comfortably."

His hands were trembling as he stared blankly at the envelope. "Why are you doing this for me?"

"Because I like you. I may never go to heaven but I'm not all bad."

She hesitated and then said, "There is another reason and I wasn't going to tell you. I will if you promise not to get too upset."

He collapsed back in the chair and looked at the ceiling. "It can't get any worse so go ahead and I promise not to cry."

"That e-mail I received; it was about you. You've become surplus to requirements."

His eyes widened slowly and he whispered hoarsely, "What does that mean?"

"It means that I'm to clean up before I leave here. That includes your computer, your papers and you. Trove doesn't like leaving a trail and if I don't do it, they'll send somebody else. That's why I'm shipping you to Switzerland."

It was too much for him and he slumped forward in the chair as his life force drained away. He was looking at the floor when he whispered, "So the bastards are going to kill me?"

Bella reached out and rested her hands gently on his. She said softly, "You have no idea what the sort of people you've been working for. They have only one purpose and that is to rid the world of evil beings they consider detrimental to society. Peripheral casualties are unfortunate but sometimes unavoidable as long as the bottom line shows a satisfactory result."

He looked up slowly and his eyes were dull. He had passed beyond the fear barrier and was in a state of subdued shock. He said without emotion, "What happens now?"

"I'll be leaving at my normal time this evening but if I'm not back before two in the morning, you call a taxi and hightail it to the airport. Get on a flight to Zurich and if you can't do that, get on one that goes anywhere until you can. Do you understand?"

He nodded. "You said earlier, 'If I'm successful'."

She smiled but not with her eyes. "One day my luck will run out." She kissed him lightly. "Now snap out of it and get packed. I'm going now and I'll see you later, I hope."

He gazed numbly at the closed door and then hauled himself to his feet and stumbled into the bedroom.

******************************

The cocktail barman looked up as the blonde English hooker approached the bar. Her dress was dark green with thin shoulder straps and it revealed most of her full tanned breasts. A long gold rope with a smaller loop at the bottom snuggled between her cleavage. Long tubular earrings dangled from her lobes and a gold lamé purse hung from her shoulder. She was wearing black stiletto heeled shoes with a single strap around each ankle.

She slid onto a stool and he poured her a martini from the pitcher. She pushed a one hundred note across the bar and he tucked it away without offering any change.

As she sipped from her glass, he looked around the room. It was a quiet evening with little prospect of trade for her. It was none of his business that she was operating privately. He had made his phone call and that put him in the clear.

Twenty minutes passed before the man entered through the revolving doors. He sat on the stool next to her and she smiled at him. He said something quietly and she motioned upwards with her eyes. The man said something else and she shook her head. He reached into his pocket and the barman glimpsed a wad of money. She shrugged her shoulders and they left together.

******************************

Bella leaned back in the car and prepared herself. The man next to her had asked her to go to his place and spend the night and as the offered amount had been sufficient, she had agreed. He was now ignoring her and was clearly just a messenger. The driver had not even turned his head when they both climbed in.

She asked, "Is it far? I'll need to be taken back in the morning."

He replied, "It will be arranged."

She estimated that the journey had been just short of six kilometres when they drove along the high wall and stopped at the heavy iron gates. The wall was topped with iron spikes that curved outwards. The driver reached through the window and pressed the control button and a floodlight illuminated the car. The driver spoke briefly to the intercom and the gates opened slowly.

As they turned into the driveway, they passed a figure standing with a firearm slung across his chest. She recognised it as an XM8 lightweight assault rifle with a shortened barrel. She asked nervously, "What is this place, where are we?" She received no reply.

The car pulled up outside the huge mansion and the man opened his door and said, "Get out."

She cowered in the back seat until he opened her door and dragged her out. She fell onto her knees and pleaded, "What's going on? Why are you treating me like this?" All the lower windows that she could see were barred.

He hauled her roughly to her feet and she squealed in pain. As she was dragged through the heavy wooden front door she noticed it had power locks. The man took her purse and glanced briefly into the contents before handing it back to her.

She was left trembling and weeping in the entrance hall while the driver stood by her. There were two doors to the left and another one short of the wide staircase to the right. Another door was at the centre far end. She noted the two cameras facing in opposite directions but high up and out of reach. There was a seated jacketless man with his back to the staircase reading a paper. He had a pistol in a shoulder holster but he was too far away for her to identify it.

Each door had a glass section above it and through the second one on the left she could see bright lights shining. From inside the room she could hear a female sobbing and then a gurgling scream. The seated man continued to read his paper. It required little imagination to guess what was going on in there.

The man who had been with her in the car had climbed the stairs immediately they arrived. He now appeared at the top and beckoned. The driver pushed her towards the stairs and said, "Up."

She stumbled to the staircase and began to climb slowly. When she reached the top he gripped her arm and dragged her to a door. Another man with a holstered pistol was lounging further along the wall.

The door was opened and she was thrust through it. The room she entered was the annex to a bedroom with doors that led out to a balcony. There were no security cameras. She stood sobbing pitifully in front of the occupant.

Alek Dimitrov was seated at a small table in the centre of the room and eating from a bowl. He shovelled food into his mouth as he stared at her without blinking. He appeared to be unarmed. He put down his spoon and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and pushed the table to one side as he stood up.

The short sleeved shirt that he was wearing was unbuttoned to the waist and his body was matted with thick black hair. His belly was straining the band of his trousers. He growled, "Come here."

She stepped cautiously towards him and whimpered, "Who are you and why have I been brought here? I haven't done anything wrong."

She took seventy five percent of his swinging slap and fell backwards to the floor. He looked down at her and snarled, "Nobody sells their cunt around here without my say-so; and especially not a fucking foreigner. Get up and strip."

She climbed shakily to her feet and pulled her dress up over her head. She stepped out of her panties and removed her shoes. As he returned to his chair and sat down, she could see from his expression that he was impressed. She pleaded, "Please don't hurt me. I'll be nice to you and do whatever you want."

He reached and picked up a half smoked cigar. He lit it but kept it in his mouth. That was bad and something that she had not anticipated.

He blew a cloud of smoke out of the corner of his mouth and growled, "You're a good looking bitch. Can you do anything special?"

She answered, "I used to be a dancer before I started working for myself."

"Show me."

She was going to get only one opportunity and it had to be timed perfectly. The cigar was a hindrance but she had to take a chance. She began to dance with erotic movements in front of him and he sat and watched her.

She moved to his left side as if she was going to encircle him and slipped her right hand into the lower loop of her gold rope. He turned his head to his right where he expected her to reappear and then removed the cigar from his mouth and spat.

It had to be now. With her right hand through the smaller of the two loops she lifted the entire rope over her head with her left hand and dropped it over his. The short tube between the two loops concealed a slip knot and as she braced her left hand against the back of his head and pulled, the larger loop snapped tight around his neck. The gold lacquered rope was four stranded steel wire with a tensile strength of one thousand pounds.

His first reaction was to clutch at his throat and try to stand up but she tipped his chair back. With his throat constricted he was unable to make a sound and his legs flailed helplessly. He tried to reach behind but she avoided his hands.

With an effort he rolled sideways to the floor but she kept behind him. He put his hands down and struggled to his knees but she kicked hard into his kidney area. He collapsed flat and she stood on his back and continued to pull. Gradually his struggles weakened until finally he became motionless.

It had taken exactly one hundred and three seconds.

The rope was so deeply imbedded she had difficulty in removing it but she managed to extricate it and wiped it clean on his shirt. She left him face down on the floor.

She put the rope back around her neck and walked naked to the door. She opened it a few centimetres and peered out. The man with the holstered pistol was fifteen paces along the corridor and smoking a cigarette as he lounged against a wall. She opened the door and stepped out. As he looked up she beckoned to him and said, "He wants you."

He looked surprised and straightened up quickly. He dropped the cigarette to the floor and stamped it into the carpet. As he strode towards her, she backed two paces into the room so that his view of the body was obscured and stiffened the fingers of her right hand. He stepped into the room and as he looked left and right, she moved to one side and stabbed her fingers into his throat.

Her stiffened fingers could punch a hole through three millimetre hardboard and the effect on him was lethal. His larynx was crushed and his vocal chords became paralysed. His windpipe constricted to block the air passage to his lungs and his heart went into shock. He stood erect with bulging eyes for three seconds and then his legs gave way. She stepped quickly behind him with her arms around his chest and lowered him to the ground.

After closing the door she stepped over his body to pick up her dress and put it back on. She climbed into her panties and retrieved her shoes and then twisted the heels. They snapped cleanly to leave flat rubber soles. She put them on and tightened the straps around her ankles. Finally she removed her tubular earrings and put them in her bag with the gold rope.

The weapon was next and she received a surprise. It was a Chinese type sixty-seven silenced pistol with a nine round magazine. A curious choice for a gangster but it was probably used for discreet executions. She raised her eyes heavenwards and whispered, "Thank you."