Stalkers - Writers Forum

nabar22 · 05-24-2007, 12:54 PM

I was just like to share this short fictional thriller with anyone. As i am young im keen to learn and apriaciate good or bad critisism.

Thanks

Quote:

Stalkers

Chapter 1
6.33 am New York City
Hotel Libra

37, 38, 39, 40, 41… I lost count and my arms gave way at sheer exhaustion. My perspiration was immense, no better old man, your getting older now.

I sat upright on the end of my tatty mattress, this hotel suite wasn’t the most accommodating room I have laid eyes on yet it was satisfactory for an aging has-bin. I change out of my damp t-shirt into another and threw some jeans on, poured myself a glass of water and placed my 9mm on the table in front of me. Grabbing it, disassembling then reassembling, loading the magazine, cocking it and forcing Petra Beretta’s barrel to my temple wasn’t an unusual feeling anymore, I’d grown used too it, accustom to the feeling that this may be my day, do I or don’t i?

There was a knock at the door, startled and instinctively I aimed at the door, slowly walking up to the wooden door i viewed through the peephole. Watched the messenger walk away sharply down the corridor and not looking back, I then snatched the sealed envelope from the floor and returned too my seat. I glugged on the water, swallowed and paused staring at the envelope in my hands. Who next, I thought. Get a grip old man, open the envelope and do what you are here too do.

My hands dancing with anxiety, I ripped apart the sticky and pulled out a photograph of the ‘mark’, information on his whereabouts and background. This is a bad way spend your birthday. Alonso Leroux, former shopkeeper, business died, a too competitive market, retired, wife and 3 kids, 43 years of age, relatively fit, jogs, swims, and runs a back alley drug dealership.

I studied the timings until I was confident, and made a ‘shadow’ of what had to be carried out. “Prior planning and preparation prevents piss poor performance” The seven P’s, I reminisced. I sat, quietly and thoughtfully about what had too be done, I had ideas yet they weren’t ideal for the situation, woman and bloody children. This eerie feeling wasn’t very acute; I needed to see paulie about this one. It was time again. I finished my fourth glass of water, loaded my 9 and put on my leather coat over my tactical vest.

The ringing bell on the door was a welcomed sound to one’s ears in times of despair and doubt. I made my way past all the clutter clatter noise of customers eating and talking, it looked as if business was better for paulie now. I continued through the back door and found him taking a break smoking outside; he greeted me with a huge grin from cheek to cheek.

“Mark, how long has it been old friend?” he said. “4 years 7 months and 42 days” “You’ve lost weight” “So have you” I replied. We caught up on old times, the funny times, and the sad times. It had been a while; I and he had an almost ancient history together, the Forces, the Det and now freelance, although he quit killing 2 years ago. “How’s business, what have you been up too?” he asked sincerely. “Came back from a certain south American country a year ago, did a bit of BG work there, nothing took my fancy, so here I am, back in NYC doing what I do best eh?” I stated with a bit of radical humour. “Is it not time for you too let go? Huh? I gave up 2 years ago man and look at me, I’m running my own business now, got a fiancé believe it or not man, c’mon?” He was deadly serious, no bluff time, he always does this. “You know me better than anyone Paulie, that’s why Ive come here, I’m here for the exact opposite, advice on a hit mate, I need your advice, I like a second opinion you know that”. “I’m finished with all this business man, don’t drag me into this, I never want to loose anything or gain, contribute, distribute, loan, trade, participate or plan anything to do with all that shit we’ve been through, Ive been through, I don’t want to see again, and I thought for gods honest sake you would be to!” he was red-faced. “I’m not trying to make myself mate, I thought you would help but never you mind Paulie, long forgotten yeah? Been good too catch up, I shouldn’t of come here, not when you have a fiancé now, sorry.” I got up and made my way out of Bella Napoli. I half expected a shout from the back, a beckon, but instead I let myself out and trundled through the busy streets of 5th avenue. I guess he changed with the times.

The thousands of constant streaming thoughts racing in my mind. Why does he act this way? Has something been said about business? Have I missed something? Or is it just changing times? I finished up my cappuccino de latte and hurried back to the hotel, it was thinking time. As I was entering the building I noticed something, not out of ordinary for central New York but there’s always chance. Two smart men, expensive suites cut wide in the shoulders, they are defiantly packing. I was cautious walking towards the receptionist and kept my head down.

I wanted the case I had left in charge of them too keep safe, it had the most important array of things a man like me could possibly need. “Excuse me ma’am” I called. “Sorry Sir were all full for tonight, may I book another night for you?” The blonde said. “Erm no, sorry I left a case for you too look after, err, Mr.Burton is the name” “Oh I do beg your pardon Sir, Mr.Burton…yes; yes I have it, one moment please.”

She scurried off into a room behind the desk, looking flustered. I must have embarrassed her. I looked around, empty, the hotel lobby was completely empty. Apart from the smart men, they had moved positions and split up, I noticed the brown haired man trundle up the carpeted stairs to my left, the Asian sat across from me reading New York Times. The date was wrong, this was bad. It was obvious, what a huge mistake the guy had made.

I panicked. What do you do now old man? I rang the bell, once, twice. Come on, why isn’t she coming? Does she know? Is she luring me? A distant shout came from inside the room.

“One minute Sir” “Sorry im just in a little rush that’s all, I have an urgent meeting in 15 minutes, and I’d rather be early” I half shouted back. “I understand Sir, sorry im a bit new here, what was your name again?” She peeped through door looking red-faced at me. I glanced quickly at the smart man, and caught him staring. Rookie, I thought. He was agitated and shifting about in his seat a lot of the time. But the other man, the dark haired guy, where was he? I haven’t got much time. “Never mind I just remembered I don’t need the case for this particular meeting, you’ve been great, keep smiling” I winked. And she did so, ear to ear.

I smiled at the Asian as I casually strolled out the Hotel Libra; he knew he’d been compromised. And judging by the look he gave back, he was pissed off. I went at a fast pace round the block thrice to make sure they weren’t following me, it didn’t look as if they were. Who were they? FBI, CIA, NSA, A non-government organisation perhaps, transnational? I don’t know, but what I do know is the FBI still op for the smart look now days even with the movies. That’s bone stupid. Even so, why were they after me, I have done some inhumane things in my lifetime, correct. But none they don’t know about, so what if ive done a few hits, they are bad people and people that I hit deserve what’s coming to them, that’s why the government dismisses the Assassins. That’s why I never get found, or blamed for that matter.

Back at the Hotel I exchange winks at the receptionist and ask for my case again. Where next…

Chapter 2
11.23 pm New York City

Outside Hotel Libra

The taxi driver greets me with an unconditional grin, fake. He isn’t happy, midlife crisis I thought. Ive had been through them times mate, im an old man now. I tell him to drive north from New York and not to stop, I have enough cash in this case to travel virtually anywhere on the planet, I think I’ll go north. I don’t know where, just north. “North, Waddya mean north?” he asked. “Just drive mate” “But buddy I ca….”

He shut up and drove as I pulled out a roll of 1G and placed it in his sweaty open palm. It had been 3 hours and I nearly nodded off, it was dark, quite cold and there was some shit radio station on that didn’t quench my musical thirst. I was lonely again.

I woke up at the dancing shadows and lights moving around inside the cab, he was looking at the road, eyes straining, but determined to get his money. I noticed the car behind us reflected in the wind mirror and asked how long it had been there. “No more than 15 minutes man, why you wanna to know?” he slurred. “Ok, just curious that all mate” I replied.

That’s the truth; I was curious, 15 minutes. Shouldn’t be alarmed. Sleepy old man.

A noise, loud, very loud. Shaking, god the cab is shaking, wake up granddad. I glanced up at the driver, he was sweating and wide eyed. “What the fuck is going on!” I shouted over the noise of the screeching vehicle. “I don’t know man; the tires have gone, there flat. I topped them up two days ago, what the hell?!?!” “Have you been sleeping at the wheel?” I was angry. “I saw you there and, man I’m tired…I don’t do long drives like this man.” He struggled to keep hold of the wheel as the cab skidded about along the bare road of nowhere.

The car was still behind us, shit. I brought my watch to my blurry vision and saw that it had been half an hour. There must have been plenty of turnings. Godamnit, it’s them! I screamed in my mind. I turned in my seat too take a close look at the black car, the passenger wound the window down, something was being held out the window.

“Shit!”

A muzzle flash. Ping, whoosh, smash. The 9mm round hit the back of the car. And with direct accuracy broke the back window causing the glass shards to shatter upon me. I instinctively ducked down into the seats and waited for his magazine to empty. There is nothing I can do. Im bloody helpless here. 14 rounds left. Bang, bang bang, whoosh. Another three rounds hit the leather seats in front of me; one which had met a target, aiming at the driver is as good as hitting me. The New Yorker gurgled and spat out blood from his red mouth. The bullet entered through his vertebrae causing spinal snapping and blood haemorrhage. Slumping forward on the wheel, he was as dead as they get.

The shots rang out, and got louder, so did the car, it was gaining on me. I haven’t an option; Ive got no choice but to ride this one out. Nowhere to hide and nowhere to run. I belted up and braced myself for impact. The car kept swerving from left to right erratically. I couldn’t do anything but watch the final moments of my life in utter uselessness. The left tires stopped altogether and the car rolled, and as soon as my seatbelt malfunctioned and snapped I hurled towards the windscreen smashing myself into it, hands covering my face.

Dark red, glass.
Can’t see. Blurry.
Numbness.
This is it.
Nothing.
Blank, emptiness.

Azmakna · 05-24-2007, 12:57 PM

set it to the left margin!

nineteen · 05-24-2007, 03:45 PM

stopped reading half-way into it. didn't grab me and i'm tired.