Falling For The Assassin

Malibu (USA) Beach house 4 04 2016 0830 hours   James Smith is sitting on a chair by the pool in the backyard of his temporary rented Malibu beach house, sipping away at his Mojito. Despite the fact that it’s barely half past eight in the morning, there are already a bunch of people out on the beach, either trying to catch a tan in the early morning hours when the sun isn’t too hot, or doing a last minute jog before it gets too crowded.   His joints have gone numb from doing nothing but lounging by the pool and sitting on the couch for the past ten days. He hasn’t heard anything from his boss, or his handler. Not even a text from Zayn. Nothing.   After he closed a case last month and caught one of MI6’s top ten fugitives, Liam had told him to take some time off until further notice. James assumed that ‘until further notice’ meant a couple of days, a week at most, but apparently he was wrong.   Besides the people he’s pulled when he actually decides to go out (there weren’t that many-maybe three, or four?), he’s had no one else to keep him company. Sometimes he gets lonely, but he reminds himself that it’s part of the job, and that getting close to someone would put their life in jeopardy, so he’s better off with one night stands and sometimes (only when he’s too lazy to get out of the house) prostitutes.   It’s not like James doesn’t like his job, because he does. He gets to see new countries and meet new people (even though they’re temporary), and put bad guys behind bars. Not to mention the thrill he gets every time Liam congratulates him for a good job, or the parties that come after closing a big case.   Being an MI6 agent has been James’s life for the past three years, ever since he got recruited during his last year at the Police Academy, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. That’s also why he’s currently wishing that he could just get back to his job, pursue any lead in any mission, just do something instead of sitting on a wooden chair and staring at the ocean all day long.   When he finally notices that his glass is empty and the cigarette he’d been smoking to occupy himself is burnt out in the ashtray, he walks back inside to fix himself something for breakfast.   One thing he doesn’t miss is the constant training and healthy dieting Liam is persuading him to do on a daily basis when he’s at headquarters.   He pours some cereal and milk in a bowl before he sits down in front of the TV and turns it on. There’s nothing interesting at this hour in the morning, so he leaves the channel on CNN and digs back into his bowl.   He leans back into the comfortable couch cushions when he’s done, and watches the news while moving his right leg impatiently. Two more days and he’s going to lose his mind.   When video footage from a car crash starts playing on the TV, James grabs the remote to change the channel, but stops when the words BREAKING NEWS appear on the screen.   The familiar old white man appears on the screen and starts talking, just as James’s eyes fall to the headline at the bottom of the screen.   BREAKING NEWS: Bombing at Palace of Westminster   James sits up straight on the couch and leans forward, turning the volume all the way up to make sure he doesn’t miss anything.   “There’s been an explosion at the Palace of Westminster in London around half past four in the afternoon while the Prime Minster, all members of the Cabinet, as well as several other politicians were holding a meeting on the second floor, where the bomb went off. There is no information on the suspects or the victims, as firemen are trying to rescue people from the burning floor and policemen-“   James’s BlackBerry buzzes on the coffee table in front of him, and he grabs it with inhuman speed when Liam’s office number flashes on the screen.   “Smith.” He answers, standing up from the couch and walking with big steps towards the stairs.   “Agent 09. There’s been a bombing at the Palace of Westminster and we need you to come in.” Liam’s voice is stern at the other end of the line, which usually means that he’s in over his head with paperwork. James can hear phones ringing and people shouting, and yeah. It’s time to get back to work.   He grabs everything from the closet and the bathroom to shove into his suitcase, before he zips it up and heads back downstairs. There’s a taxi already waiting for him outside, undoubtedly sent by NIck, and as soon as he gets in, he calls the owner of the villa to let him know he’s got a work emergency and his past week has been delightful.   The driver drops him off at the airport and James doesn’t waste any time to buy a ticket for the next flight that leaves for London.   He gets on the twelve-hour flight fifty minutes later, and decides to get some rest before he has to go back to work.   ***   London (England) MI6 headquarters 5 04 2016 0700 hours   James walks into Liam’s office at seven o’clock on the dot, out of breath with disheveled hair. He’s got a cup of coffee in one hand, while his other hand works on the buttons of his suit.   “Took you long enough.” Liam says and stands up from his desk.   “I touched down at Heathrow an hour ago, and I had to run to my house to change.” James defends as he drops down on one of the chairs by the wooden table.   Liam drops a brown folder in front of him and then leans against the desk with his arms crossed, watching him. James sets his coffee aside so he can open the folder and read through it.   His boss, however, is as usual one step ahead of him by already telling James a summary of everything he needs to know about what happened.   “One bomb went off yesterday. We found it on the first floor and in spite of being severely damaged; we sent it down to the lab for analysis. It was handmade so the damage wasn’t as substantial as it would’ve been if it were fabricated.” Liam starts, bringing his palms down from his chest to rest on the table. “It was planted in the men’s bathroom on the second floor.”   “Do we have any suspects?” James asks, taking a sip from his coffee. It burns his tongue, but he can’t focus on the pain right now.   “We’ve been going through the video footage since yesterday, but there’s nothing out of the ordinary. We think the bomb must’ve been placed in one of the stalls since the footage from the bathroom doesn’t show any suspicious activity.”   Liam’s phone beeps, and he suddenly stands up, straightening out his blazer.   “You’re going to have to read it as we walk over to the lab. Results are in and there’s no time to waste.” His boss tells him and James quickly nods as he gets up from the chair, grabbing the folder and the coffee.   He’s struggling to read the folder with one hand as they hurry towards the elevator, which leads them underground to the laboratory that’s meant strictly for secret service business. Liam presses the second-to-last button, then steps back and looks at James.   While they wait for the elevator to go down ten levels, James’s eyes skim over the words printed on the paper in the folder.   “Any victims?” James asks because of his inability to turn the page due to his busy hand.   “Three members of the cabinet were killed instantly, one died in the hospital later. The other seventeen are severely injured. The government is currently shut down.”   “Shit.” James concludes, to which Liam nods.   “Shit is right.” “What about the Prime Minister?”   Liam doesn’t responds at first.   “Liam?” James asks, looking at him expectantly.   “He’s missing. We believe that the bomb was meant to serve as a distraction so that whoever did it could kidnap the Prime Minister.”   “And you couldn’t start with this information?” James asks, just as the doors open. They take a few steps until they reach another door that Liam opens with his card.   James smiles as they walk towards NIck’s desk, a bit too elated about the familiar surroundings than he should be. A mop of dyed blonde hair is moving behind a giant computer, and NIck looks up from the screen as soon as Liam and James stop in front of his desk.   NIck smiles and stands up to shake their hands, before he gestures for them to take a look at his computer.   “So after we scanned the bomb from the inside out, even though there wasn’t much left of it, we found two initials on the underside.”   “How is it possible for some of it to still be intact?” James asks, placing a hand on the table and leaning down to look at the picture on the computer.    “I wouldn’t quite call it ‘intact’. But the fact that it was handmade had something to do it. This bomb was manufactured with such expertise that only half of it blew up.”   “That’s impossible.” Liam says.   “Apparently, it’s not. That’s the scary part of it. Even though it was handmade, the impact was huge, which means that there is someone out there who is capable of constructing a bomb that can cause enormous damage and also leave their mark, to spite us.” NIck tells them, tapping the screen on his computer to zoom in the image. “As I was saying, we found two initials on the underside. MV.”   “What does it stand for?”   “I ran some scans and it can stand for one of two things. The first hit I got stands for MV Augusta, a motorcycle company. The second one is Marco Vogel, a German billionaire.”   “What do we know about him?”   “He makes a lot of money from his gun business, and he’s currently located in Manhattan New York. We think he might have had one of his people make the bomb.”   “Why would he want to attack our government though?” James asks, looking at Liam, and then at NIck.   “He doesn’t.”   They both look up at the voice to see Zayn leaning against the wall next to the entrance, arms crossed.   “Agent 05. About time.” Liam says and gulps, which has James rolling his eyes.   “Got caught up in France, but I’m here.”   Zayn walks over to them, smiling before he stops between Liam and James, looking over NIck’s shoulder at the monitor.   “Do I have to walk you through-“ Liam starts but Zayn holds up a hand.   “No, I know what we’re dealing with.”   Liam sternly nods.   “What do you mean he doesn’t want to attack our government?” James asks.   “I mean, I don’t think he’d have a reason to. He’s a billionaire located in Manhattan, with a wife and two children.”   “So?”   “So, I think one of his workers was either asked to make a bomb for someone else and put the initials on it like they’re usually instructed to, or someone carved them in to throw us off.”   “Either way, you have to fly to Manhattan.” Liam tells them, and NIck agrees by giving a brisk nod. “You’re going to take the private plane tomorrow at half past one to make sure you get to your hotel in time to sleep off your jetlag.”   NIck types something on the computer, and then turns around in his chair to face them.   “There’s a charity gala happening at his mansion tomorrow night, at eight pm EDT.” He says and points to the screen. “You can try and get to his computer while he’s occupied, find out all the transactions and deals he made in the past year, and all his workers’s names.”   “Good plan, Hemsworth.”   Liam pats him on the shoulder, and then turns to look at James and Zayn. “I have to attend a meeting in ten minutes. Go home and get some rest, but I want you in my office later today at 2030 hours sharp. Don’t be late this time.”   James and Zayn follow Liam to the elevator with a nod, exchanging looks behind his back that fortunately go unnoticed. Unlike usual.   ***   London (England) Smith-Hamilton residence 5 04 2016 1730 hours   “So who do you think is behind this whole bombing thing?” James asks Zayn later that day when they’re both at their house in Southwark, sitting on the couch and watching BBC News.   The SIS bought Zayn the house when he joined MI6, and James moved in a year later when he himself joined, right after he solved a mission together with Zayn. They clicked as soon as they met, since they both had similar interests and were quite new to the whole spy thing.   Their home is a gated detached villa in Central London, with an equipped gym, a home cinema, and a hot tub in each bathroom. It’s definitely way too luxurious and expensive for their lifestyle-they barely get to live in it since they’re always on the road, but they’re not complaining. It’s good for throwing parties and it’s incredibly secured with the latest security systems and cameras scattered all around the house, just in case someone finds out their real identities and decides to pay them a visit.   The house is seven kilometers and five minutes away from the MI6 building, so whenever they get called in for an urgent meeting, they’ll be there quick thanks to the cars they were also given. James has a black Aston Martin, and Zayn has a convertible BMW. They don’t use the cars as often as they’d like to, since they only get to drive them for errands and during missions that take place in England.   “I don’t know who’s behind the ‘bombing thing’.” Zayn replies and lights a cigarette. “If I knew, the mission would already be solved.”   “Jesus, what crawled up your ass today?”   Zayn sighs, and pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. “It’s just that I want this to be over. We’ve never had a case as serious as this. When was the last time a bombing occurred in London? Or the last time someone targeted the government? We’re dealing with serious people here, probably terrorists, and if we get killed off or don’t solve this, everything’s going to shit.”   James scrunches his nose. He’s always been the one with a positive outlook on things out of the two of them. That’s why they work, really, because James is the optimist, and Zayn’s the realistic (although on the edge of pessimism) one, who’s always there to keep him grounded.   “We can’t afford to think like that, at least not until we know for sure who and what we’re dealing with.”   Zayn just shrugs and leans over to the coffee table to grab his mug.   “Have you talked to your family already?” James asks.   “Yeah. Called my mum earlier to let her know that I won’t be in contact until the mission is over. God knows how much that’ll take.”   Another downside of the job is their families. They’re allowed to contact them and even see them, but at least one month after they close a case to make sure they’re protected. During a mission, they’re not allowed to even mention their names or location, in case someone overhears and wants to hurt them in any way.   James’s mother and sister are well protected though, seeing that his mother’s last name isn’t Smith or Cox (which is something someone could find out if they found out James’s real name and searched his name in the MI6 database), and his sister has been married for two years, which also means that she has another last name. They don’t really know what James’s usually up to, due to the fact that every SIS agent has to keep details about missions confidential, and the last thing James would want is put their lives in danger.   “I should probably call her too before I completely disappear for three months.” “You think this mission will take three months?” “Just assuming.”   “Our last mission wasn’t even half as big as this and it lasted half a year.”   James doesn’t say anything else as he stands up and walks upstairs to call his mother.   When he comes back, Zayn is in the kitchen with two papers on the table, reading through them.   “What are those?” he asks and sits down across from him.   “NIck faxed them just now. Have you ever heard of Tom W?”   “Who’s Tom W?”   “Apparently, one of the most famous hitmen in the twenty-first century.”   “Is that who we’re dealing with here?” James asks, taking one of the papers to look at.   “No. NIck just sent me these files Liam got sent through mail, and he told us that we’ll get more details when we get to headquarters today.”   James’s eyes fall on the file in front of him. The first thing he sees is the word CONFIDENTIAL, FILE IS TO BE DESTROYED AFTER BEING READ in huge, red, block letters. There is no picture of this ‘Tom W’ in the rectangle on the top right corner of the page where there should have been, which means that whoever this man or woman is, they’re keeping their identity well hidden.   Name: Tom W Age: 24 Job: Target Elimination Specialist/Professional Hitman/ Height: 179cm/5’9ft Weight: 68.5kg/151lbs About: Tom W is a professional assassin that has been hired by several security branches, business men, and crime lords throughout the years.   “This is all we get?” James asks. “We’re supposed to work with a professional killer and we don’t get any more information on this?”   “I don’t know what’s going on either, but we’ll find out soon. I’ll go pack, and you should too.” Zayn tells him and drops the copy of Tom W’s ‘CV’ on the table.   James follows him upstairs, and by the time they’re both finished with packing, it’s already quarter past eight. They take Zayn’s car, and after they make sure the gate is locked and the security system is turned on, Zayn drives off.   They meet up with Liam and NIck down in the lab, where everyone is bustling with phones pressed to their ears or typing away at computers in a frantic manner as usual.   “Finally.” Liam says and hands each of them a binder.   “You know that every time we come in you tell us that we’re late, even though we aren’t, right?” Zayn asks and sits down on a chair at NIck’s desk.   Liam doesn’t respond. Instead, he crosses his arms and looks at the two of them pointedly.   “So what’s the deal with Tom W?” James asks, not bothering to open the file.   “I got a call a few hours ago from the head of Specialist Operations regarding her majesty’s orders about what we should do. She wants us to find whoever is responsible for the bombings and whoever kidnapped the Prime Minister, and then kill them.”   “She wants us to kill them? As in, point black?” Zayn asks, incredulously.   “Well, not us, the hitman they hired, Tom W. I received his description through email, and a number that I was able to contact him through. He should be here any minute now.”   “So this man is going to accompany us on this mission and he’s going to kill whoever gets in our way.” James states.   “Precisely.”   “We’ve never done this before.”   “Because we’ve always arrested the criminals. These are her majesty’s orders, and we’re obligated to follow them.”   The elevator dings behind James, but he’s too occupied to ask how many people Tom W has killed than to look behind him.   “Everything we know is on that sheet of paper.” Liam says, eyes drifting at something behind him. “There he is. I’m going to go let him in, and then we’ll talk business.”   James turns his head to look at ‘Tom W’. His eyebrows meet his hairline when he sees a young man with cheekbones higher than Zayn’s IQ and a serious expression shake hands with Liam. He takes him time to quickly give him a proper onceover as the two of them walk back to NIck’s desk.   Tom W is wearing a satin black tailored suit that fits his curves (from what James can see) perfectly, black dress shoes like every other male agent here, and a black tie that stands out over his pristine white button up. He has a silver Rolex watch on one of his surprisingly dainty wrists, and unusually small hands for a man that supposedly kills for a living.   “Agent Hamilton, Agent Smith, Hemsworth, this is Tom W.” Liam introduces them.   The three of them stand up to shake his hand, and James notices that he has quite a strong grip, and the fact that he’s definitely a few centimeters smaller than James.   “Do you have a name?” James asks.   “My name is nobody’s business.” Tom W replies, and James looks at him with an annoyed expression.   High voice   Small hands   Tom W is the exact opposite of how James imagined him, except for the witty attitude.   “But you can call me Louis.”   “Louis.” James repeats. “That’s French, isn’t it?”   “Now you also want info on my nationality?” Louis asks, purposefully accentuating his Yorkshire accent. “What’s next? Social security number?”   James shakes his head just as Liam interrupts them with a small cough.   “Her majesty’s orders were clear and we’re going to follow them.” He starts, placing a hand on NIck’s shoulder. “We’ve got everything booked for the three of you in Manhattan. You’ll be staying at the Mandarin Oriental and I rented an Alfa Romeo 4C just in case you’ll need it. You know what to do, find out Vogel’s transactions and workers, then report back to NIck.”   James and Zayn nod like they’re used to doing every time Liam opens his mouth.   “Good. We’ve been given authority to search Mr. Cameron’s house tonight, so that’s where you’ll be heading once I dismiss you. Then you have to be back here at 0100 hours so you can board the jet for Manhattan.”   Louis stays quiet throughout Liam’s talking, like he’s listening to every single word carefully.   “Before you leave, I need to hand you the gadgets you’ll be using on your Manhattan trip. Hemsworth?”   NIck’s head snaps up from the computer before he stands up, startled. “Yes sir.”   He opens the drawer in his desk and places three copies of each gadget on the table in front of them. There are three familiar watches, three tiny cameras, and three small ear devices.   “You two know about the watch.” NIck starts, and then turns to Louis. “These watches have a small flash drive in them in case you need to copy files from Vogel’s computer, a built-in microphone, and thanks to the sensor on the backside, we’ll be able to track your heartbeats to make sure you’re still alive. The ear devices are classic microchips that you put in one of your ears so you’re going to be able to hear your handler while you’re out on the field, and the high-technology cameras are so small you can hold it in your closed fist without anyone noticing. The pictures you take will automatically be sent to your handler.”   They put on their watches, put in their earpieces, and pocket the cameras. Louis takes off his normal watch and places it on the table.   “I won’t need this then.”   “You also won’t need a gun for this task, there will be security guards in front of the house at all times.” Liam informs them.   “We’ll take my car.” Zayn suggests, and then looks at Louis expectantly.   “I’ll come with. A taxi dropped me off from the airport. But first, I have to use the restroom. Where ‘s it?”   Liam points him towards a door that leads to the toilets. Louis nods as a thank you and then he’s off, carrying himself with ease and determination, back straightened up as he walked.   As soon as the door to the bathroom closes, Liam turns his head to look at James and Zayn.   “So…any comments?”   James licks his lips. “He’s definitely not 5’9.”