iPhone Notes Story 03/08/15

Polished, exquisite, regal. She was all of those. At least as she walked away.In the minutes and moments before she turned and walked from the calamity left in her wake, she was anything but civil. 

Death is a natural bi-product of her work. Not everyone she encounters meets this fate. But most do.

A brief glance over her shoulder at the three lifeless and bloody bodies lying on the pavement contained the entirety of her thoughts on the lives ended here this night. Each of them had gambled and lost. They had bet on mastering her at a game none ever have. The results were predictable, but chance and the uncertainties the universe allows are always in play. But the odds of beating her at this game are minuscule, microscopic really.

Like so many, these three never saw it coming. 

The night is dangerous. Add dark alleys and oppressive heat to the equation and the night becomes a trap, a vice from which no amount of squirming or pleading or praying no escape will be produced.

These alleys, populated by slinking and scurrying creatures of the night, offer the perfect location for a kill. Three men gathered to discuss their enjoined enemy’s demise gave no mind to the fourth pro approaching them with an offer of pleasure for pay. 

But the offer presented by this fourth streetwalker carried with it another element. It was the pleasure of being relieved of this world’s pain and pressure and struggles. The minimal flash of the dark grey metal of the long silencer was the last vision these three would see. 

Three explosions, followed by what sounded like three hydraulic spits released three bullets up through skin and bone and brain.

A light mist of tiny pink blood droplets and brain matter fell gently and settled on and around the bodies as their killer stepped away. The pattern of walk, so over-the-top seductive 30 seconds earlier, now took on the cadence, the practiced smooth-muscle movement of a woman comfortable walking through dark alleys or executive offices.

It was the walk of a woman who garnered respect without demanding it. People die for respect like that.
iPhone Notes Story 05.08.15



About Christopher Metcalf - Author

Christopher Metcalf is the author of Lance Priest / Preacher novels. Lance "Preacher" Priest is a spy, a killer, a human chameleon. He is the CIA's perfect weapon who lives by one simple rule -- there are no rules. Spies and Lies is a blog dedicated to espionage, the art and science of lying and occasional creative writing. www.christophermetcalf.com
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