Prologue
He took a long drag from his cigarette; his glazed eyes scanned the sickly Arizona desert. He glanced at his Omega jerking his head towards the black sixty-six. Acidic anger burned in his stomach, the client was dangerously close to being late.
Knox couldn't stand tardiness. Rubble crunched under his burgundy alligator boots as he paced back and forth. He watched a brown lizard slither its way over the tip of his boot. The reptile stood its ground, even after Knox flicked the remainder of his smoldering Marlboro at its tale.
"You're lucky I don't have a magnifying glass you dirty son of a bitch." He kicked the brown blur away and glanced once more at his watch before popping his trunk open. A smoky black M-16 and a stark white katana gleamed in the sun. No client was worth standing this long in 112 degree weather. He punched at the side of the trunk and a glossy red revolver shot from its custom compartment. The last thing that fucker would ever feel was the horrid burn of the dessert sun, and the stabbing bite of a bullet.
No one made Knox Ireland wait - damn it.
A squeal of tires had him slamming his trunk. Before he turned, he jammed the revolver into his belt. A pudgy bald man in a grey business suit threw himself from the car and onto his hands and knees. Not bothering to stand he crawled over to Knox, his head bowed low, practically licking his burgundy boots.
"Get up you worm…you're late…you know my rules."
"Forgive me! I take full responsibility! But you must help me!" A roll of the eyes and a harsh sigh lead to his formal introduction.
"Knox Ireland Xavier…Call me KIX." The businessman's bulgy eyes bubbled.
"Get your KIX…" Jabba the hutt lifted his index finger to the black and white sign. "On route 66." Knox laughed inwardly. That never got old.
"You got it tubby, so who's it this time? The man wiped his eyes clean and inhaled deeply, as if reciting the words in his head over and over again.
"I need you to kill….Uzumaki Naruto."
Chapter 1: Tokyo Bound
The job had its perks. Besides the free transportation and hotel room, came the guaranteed adrenaline rush. Although being a professional assassin was a tad difficult to file on taxes, it was his job to rid the world of its filth. He usually dealt with drug lords, slave traders, rapists, murderers, molesters, and racist scum. But this particular target intrigued him. He'd read the brief bio more than a hundred times over the duration of the flight to Tokyo. Yet, he already knew everything there was to know about him. He flicked his wrist to straighten the paper. Sad thing was, almost every person in the known world knew about this man. He rubbed his tired eyes before skimming the page once more.
Name: Uzumaki Naruto
Hair: Blonde
Eyes: Blue
Height: 5'7"
Age: 24
Occupation: International Arms Manufacturer
Annual Income: 10,000,000+
Marital Status: Engaged 2059-2061 Haruno, Sakura. Divorced, Summer of 2061.
Origin: Japan
Place of Birth: N/A
Current Residences America/Japan: Los Angeles, New York, Tokyo, Okinawa
This man was richer than God and while his business may have had its occasional dark side, he wondered why Pudgy wanted him killed so badly. Knox folded the paper in fourths stuffing it back into his pitch black leather coat. He knew better than to dwell on the target, it always clouded things. He threw his head back and groaned after glancing at his watch, drawing attention from the local Japanese, he rolled his eyes and saluted them.
"Whoopee, only six more hours."
"Gomen na sai Knox-sama…Knox-sama?"
"Huh-what-where?" the flight attendant Harumi smiled brightly down at the man.
"We've arrived sir. May I help you with your carry on?" Knox whipped his head around noticing he was the last one on the plane.
"Uhh no, no that won't be necessary Harumi-san thank you." He stood and brushed his coat giving her a quick pat on the head. Harumi paused, a little shocked by the lack of personal boundaries, but smiled remembering he was a foreigner, most likely American. She titled her head and smiled softly, waving goodbye as he exited the plane.
The man rubbed his tired eyes. The circles under them had darkened lately. It was unbearably early in the morning back in U.S. of A, and he was beginning to wonder how much this was all worth. Then he remembered the six figures on his check. He grinned as he exited the airport. Walking in Tokyo was like walking in a sea of people; he flagged down a taxi and dived inside.
"Konichiwa Amerikajin!" The round faced driver tipped his hat. Knox was instantly reminded of Buddha.
"Konichiwa, but I'm Irish you bloody bastard. Marunouchi Hotel please."
"Hai, Hai Amerikajin! Marunouchi!"