Hitman Ch. 01

This is gonna be a slow burn romance. I wanted to focus more on plot in this piece, and wanted to write something that is funny as well as entertaining. Let me know what you think. See ya on the other side.

***

Uno

Luke's cell phone buzzes in his pocket.

His focus through his scope doesn't falter. The winds around him whip his crouching body, spraying snow and ice into his face. Still he doesn't blink, his fingers almost frozen to the metal of his weapon. The sound of the safety clicking off is smothered by the howling of the angry winds. A puff of smoke leaves his lips in a smooth exhale, just as the loud crack of igniting ammunition breaks through the static sounds of the winds.

An invisible timer follows him as his hands disassemble the equipment with the familiarity and gentleness of a lover, placing the pieces back into their slots within their safe case before slinging it over his shoulder. His footsteps crunch in the snow, signaling his retreat just as the first explosion sounds in the distance behind him.

"Your intended speaking." His tone is flat and bored as he answers the insistent buzzing of his device. He didn't like answering calls. They usually led to bad news, and bad news was the last thing he wanted to hear as he descended one of the most beautiful and treacherous places he had ever seen. He wanted time to enjoy the sights from the Himalayas before he had to make his exit.

"Mr. Keane, you are quite difficult to get a hold of." Luke smirks as he hears the second explosion of his attack ignite in the distance behind him. He had gotten a good shot in. There would be no survivors, and no evidence. His client would be pleased.

"Retirement keeps me quite busy." The truth was that he had been dodging this call for the past few weeks. The fact that the number had been a bitch to trace made him cautious. Most of the people that were likely to contact him were done so using private landlines, which meant that the most he had to do was plug in a few numbers and hit a few buttons to know who he was dealing with. This number, however, was almost completely unavailable on the grid.

Almost.

"We have business for you." The voice sounded as though they were not a part of the apparent 'we'. A middle man, so to speak. That was also never a good sign.

"Unfortunately, I already have enough business as it is." Luke clips a line to his harness before pulling gloves onto his chilled hands, his neck beginning to cramp from holding the phone between his ear and his shoulder. "Retirement keeps my schedule pretty booked. You know, between the endless wining, dining, and passionate casual sex, I've barely had the time to start my crocheting classes, which is real goddamn shame. I'm sure your people will understand. Send them my best. Hugs and kisses." His gloves make it hard to hit the end button, allowing for the person on the other end of the line to get an answer in despite his best attempt to end the conversation.

"We can pay you double of what you want. I can promise that we can make it worth your while."

And that was how he found himself parked outside of an industrial laundry mat in Portales, New Mexico. He had been given instructions to meet at a takeout joint four blocks away nearly six hours ago, but he had never been great at following directions. Besides, it wasn't like he had to do this job. He could walk away at any time and still be able to afford to pay people to wipe his ass while eating three balanced meals of cocaine a day for the rest of his life. Not that that was how he was spending his money, but he certainly could afford it. But for some reason, he still showed up. Call it boredom, or perhaps curiosity. Either way, what was a small trip to scout out some potential cliental and get some mediocre Mexican food that would surely irritate his bowels for the next few days?

He spotted their vehicle as soon as he had rounded the corner of the road that the takeout place was located on foot. The black BMW stuck out like a sore thumb, parked next to rust bucket cars with different colored doors held on with dollar store duct tape and missing bumpers. The bastards weren't even trying to fit in. Perhaps they didn't need to. Again, not a good sign. Even with his sunglasses on, Luke could see two forms in the front seats through the tinted windows. Their California plates and flashy tire rims screamed rich douche bags.

Luke guessed that he would have to find the truth of that out for himself.

"Hey, you guys want some piñon brittle?" Luke asks through a mouthful of the buttery crunch, tapping his pistol on the half open window of the BMW to wake the sleeping gentlemen. He had picked up a bag of the sweet treat from a street vendor on his walk through town. He had always had a hard time denying his sweet tooth.

"What the fuck?! Are you crazy?!"

Luke had never seen two grown men in such expensive tailoring look so close to pissing themselves. His smirk grows as he watches them drop their own weapons, fumbling for them in their fright.

"So that's a no to the piñon brittle, then?"

-

"Mr. Keane, we've been expecting you. You can go down the hall to the office on your right." The friendly receptionist lady smiled at him as his carpool led him up to the third floor of a very impressive building. Her voice sounded less raspy in person then it did over the phone, and her face was rounder then the photos he had collected of her had depicted.

"Thank you, Charlotte. How're the kids? Husband still screwing the babysitter?" Luke sent her a charming smile as he watched her face blossom with the sweetness of horror. He had gotten more info in his simple background check of the woman than he had anticipated, and it made him giddy with the excitement of his unknown knowledge. After all, he was a very dangerous man. He didn't wait for a response from the stricken woman. He had gotten what he wanted; a reaction. "Look, don't worry about it. That play toy you bought online for the bedroom should spice things up enough for him to come crawling back to you. You got this, girl. Catch you later." With a final wink, he was disappearing down the hall.

Velasco Colmenarez was not what he had expected. Luke had expected an older Hispanic man that looked as though he had never worked a day in his life. Maybe wore some fancy matador type clothing, complete with a elegant handlebar mustache. It wouldn't look weird on him, though. No, he would totally pull it off. But that wasn't what he was presented with. Not at all.

"Mr. Keane, please have a seat."

Luke had expected an 'argh' to have been thrown somewhere within the rough sounding request. His eyes couldn't leave the black leather eye patch strapped to his weather beaten face. His greying hair was slightly too long to be considered elegant, the curls greased back behind his ears in attempt to tame them. Even from behind his mahogany desk, Luke could see his plain cotton button down and slacks. At least his shoes were Italian. The only thing that screamed money on him was the gold Rolex strapped to his surprisingly thin wrist.

"Not what you expected?"

The question didn't stop Luke from his silent observations. In his peripheral vision, he took in the layout of the room. The blandness of the decor. This wasn't his regular office. The bullet proof glass. Perhaps a regular meeting room for shady business. The hidden cameras on the East and West sides of the room. Oh yes, definitely a room used for shady business.

"I have to be honest, you are not quite what I expected either." Velasco leans back in his chair as he openly takes Luke in with one dark eye. His Hispanic accent is thick, like he has to think about every word he says before being able to speak them clearly. "You have frightened my employees quite badly." He pauses to take a drag of a cigarette. "But you do not seem scary to me."

Luke snorts.

"Looks can be deceiving." Sure, he had a habit of surprising people. Maybe 'surprising' wasn't the right word. He liked knowing as much as could about a situation before going into it. He also liked to make it clear that he was not going to be put on a leash. The combination of those two things often brought out his nasty sadist streak, which in all honesty, could become the thing of most people's nightmares. "Though, I can honestly say that I wasn't expecting Captain Jack to be the great Velasco Colmenarez."

He met Velasco's eye challengingly. The dark orb stared right back, a twinkle of perhaps a smidge of surprised crinkling within them.

"I see you have done your research." Velasco's dark brow raised in a dull gesture of astonishment. Luke snorted again. Of course he had done his homework before waltzing in here. He wasn't stupid, nor did he have a death wish. Plus, he enjoyed the looks on his prey's faces when they realized a professional killer knows when and where they liked to go grocery shopping, or about their severe allergy to cats. There was a power within this type of preparation, and if there was one thing Luke enjoyed, it was power.

"Funny, though, I was able to find plenty of information about your business and your employees, but there didn't seem to be much about you." Luke matched his opponents posture, leaning back in his seat and folding his arms over his chest. He was telling the truth. He had been given no information on his potential clients, only the phone number the receptionist used to contact him. Even with so little to go on, he had found out everything there was to know about Velasco's operation. What they sold, and how much. Who works for him, and who buys from him. Where they sold, and when. Even after digging up all of this information, Velasco's name still hadn't been found anywhere involved in the company. There had only been references to the kingpin of the operation through a stage name. "The only name I could find was 'El Ray', but that couldn't be you, right? I mean, what douche names themselves 'the king'?" Luke's eyebrow raises as his smirk grows. Thanks to his over-obsessive compulsion to find out who this 'El Ray' was, he was able to link Velasco's name to the business based off of a guess from records found a long way back to when the operation had started out as a simple yet menacing gang.

It helped to make him look better that he just so happened to be right.

"You'll be shocked to know that I didn't give that name to myself." Velasco's posture softens as he stamps out his cigarette in a glass ashtray. He was right, Luke was surprised. Any criminal that made the top ten most wanted list in America, the ones who weren't caught yet, usually had a pretty good reason to be conceited and arrogant. "I actually was given the name whe-"

Luke rolls his eyes and groans with annoyance as he cuts him off. Blah blah fucking blah. "And I really couldn't care less 'bout your little stroll down memory lane." He was here for business, not to make friends with his arrogant clients. He wasn't about to waste his time with storytelling from the man's past.

Velasco takes a minute to mask the look of blatant shock on his face, finally closing his gaping mouth with a sigh before leaning forward in his chair.

"So tell me, if you know who I am, why are you here instead of going to the police?" His nerves show as he picks a white cigarette out of his shirt pocket, his fingers nearly clumsy in the effort. "I am sure that you are well aware of the government's hunt for me head. You would be stupid not to take their reward for my capture. Easy money, as you would say." He brings the cigarette to his lips as one of the guards behind him offer a lighter.

"Yeah, well, the government and I aren't really on speaking terms at the moment," Luke says shortly, his eyes lazily sizing up the guards moving in to stand behind their boss as they become aware of the sudden threat. They had to be professionals, yet they seemed to be put on edge by his presence even more so then their carpool buddies. Excellent. "We're kind of taking a break right now. You know, seeing other people." He doesn't even hide his smirk at the baffled glances sent his way. "And besides, I don't do 'easy money'."

"I see," Velasco says with furrowed bushy brows, taking a long drag of his cigarette. "So I take it that you are interested in committing to being of service to my company?" The question sounded unsure, like he was having a hard time reading Luke. He didn't blame him. Most of his cliental had no idea what to make of him either.

"Listen, pops. I do jobs. Isolated incidents. If you're looking for someone to follow you around like a dog and clean up after you, then you need to find somebody else. I don't like being tied down." Luke meets his clients eyes with a hard glint. This wasn't something that was negotiable. He was incredibly good at his job, and he wasn't going to settle on having to cling to a single customer while sitting around waiting to be given a command.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Mr. Keane. I have yet to see you perform, so I am still unsure as to what your value will be to my business."

Luke nearly scoffs at the statement. "Let's not forget that you called me, Mr. Colmenares. I'm sure you are well aware of my outstanding reputation."

"I'll admit that your recommendations are far above excellent, despite being unmanageable at times, but we have yet to see how you fair against a challenge of this caliber." Ash from his cigarette falls onto the desk as he takes another puff. The joint hangs from his mouth as he scoots his chair back from the desk, opening the drawer in front of him and removing a plain looking manila folder. It looked surprisingly thin and unused, the paper still smooth and crisp as it is placed on the table in front of Luke. "This is the information on the assailant who is posing a great threat to my business as well as myself."

Luke's fingers are quick as they flip through the folder, his gaze taking in bits of information as he went. "And my cash?" He drawls as he allows the folder to fall closed onto his lap, his stare fixing on the gentleman across from him.

Velasco's brows raise in bewilderment. "Aren't you going to read it?" His cigarette hangs forgotten from his lips, the ash turning it into a small white nub.

"I'll read it after I get paid, Velasco." Luke says as if it is obvious. When Velasco fails to respond, Luke sighs and continues. "Look, a job is a job. Do the research, make a plan, follow through with the plan, and then spend my money on filling an in-ground pool with hundred dollar bills for my afternoon swims. It is very simple, you pay half now, and then pay the rest after I complete the job. Can't do that, then I can't be bothered reading this bullshit."

"And what if you go against our contract and are unable to complete the job?" Velasco challenges as he finally stubs out what is left of his cigarette nub. What a stingy bitch.

Luke smiles dangerously. "I don't do contracts. After I complete the job, I will contact you for the rest of my payment." His smile drops slowly as he lowers his voice to an almost whisper. "And if you try to cheat me, I will find you. Please know that when I find you, you and every worthless pile of shit that works for you is going to be slaughtered. That should be contract enough." His eyes are steel as they dig into the man across from him, his warning coating the room with pure ice.

If Luke wasn't already staring at Velasco, he probably wouldn't have seen the slight nod of his head, his gaze flickering to the suits behind him quickly. A sleek black brief case is placed on the desk table in front of him, the top opening up to reveal stacks of sexy Ben Franklin's winking at him. Luke had to close the case before he started sporting an erection.

"Well, I think that means we're all set here." Luke stands after shoving the folder into his inside jacket pocket and taking the brief case into possession. His nod of farewell isn't returned as he spins on the heels of his boots and approaches the exit.

"One last thing, Mr. Keane." Luke's hand stops on the handle of the door, but he doesn't turn around to acknowledge Mr. Colmenarez's voice.

"Bring her back to me alive."