24 floors above ground. There was an eight lane highway between them. Even from so high up he could see the target clearly. Swarms of security guards, political activists, the media, all around the one person. No wonder the target was one of the most hated men in politics…
The gun was quickly assembled, each part clicking into place quickly. Years of practice. As the long range scope was attached to the rifle the target was covered on all sides. The silver bullets were loaded into the gun as an opening was revealed.
"Don't take this personally…" The fingers curled around the trigger…a direct shot to the target's forehead, the resulting blood spray covering all the pristine suits. "…It's my job." In the dark of the abandoned building the assailant was never seen.
"…Job's done." The assailant spoke into the cellphone.
"Well done. Only the best does his job like you." The woman chuckled. "Your stuff? What will we do with it?"
"Destroy the suit, the gun, this cellphone, whatever you can burn get rid of like that."
"Your car?"
"I don't really care about that heap of metal. Get your posh blokes to wipe any evidence of me being in it. Change the plate and whatever." He paused. "Meet me with one of your guys. Make sure I get my money." He closed the phone.
At the designated time the two cars pulled up alongside of each other. From the black sports car stepped the assailant, from the larger red car, a man in an all white suit and the young girl he was on the phone to. The assailant grabbed the case containing the disassembled rifle from the boot of his car and traded places with the man in white. The second man climbed into the sports car as the young woman climbed back into the front of her car.
"Privacy." The girls smile could be seen in the mirror as she pressed the button on her dashboard, the dark screen separated them both.
From the backpack on the seat beside him he produced a pair of jeans, a t-shirt and a jacket. He shoved the suit he had been wearing for his job into the rucksack.
"All done." The screen came back down.
"Glass of bubby in the hatch by your leg." The girl stated.
"You know me too well my dear." He opened the hatch and took a sip of the liquid.
"I'll contact you when we need you to do another job."
He reached into his pocket producing the card with the scrawled on. 'Midnight Wolf' with his logo, the werewolf with his precious silver gun in its hand.
"Well Wolf, you really do me and dad proud you know…" She giggled.
"Daddy told you not to call you by my real name again?" The man asked mockingly. "Tsk, what a stick in the mud he can be."
"No, he just said don't call you by your real name until you're off the job." She replied defensively.
"Alright, alright calm down. Besides, I am off the job aren't I? I mean, the guy's dead isn't he?"
"Yeah, but you're not officially off the job until you reach your front door."
"Tch…whatever, what was so special about him anyway, my target tonight?"
"He's a hated man in politics Wolf." The girl replied dimly.
"You mean he 'was'. What makes him so hated?"
"You should take time out to catch up on the news."
"I work two jobs sweetheart, don't really have the time." Was the man's comeback.
"You're so annoying sometimes!"
"Good."
"Anyway, he's been involved in some backhand deals with a few of the 'wrong' people shall we say."
"So, don't we all get caught doing things we shouldn't at some point?"
"Not when more than four billion U.S. dollars is resting on those deals."
"Ah, it's beginning to make sense."
"Activists hated him because he had some rather controversial views on many things my dear little Wolf." The car ground to a stop.
"Good night little Clarissa."
"Good night Wo-…Apollo." He smiled as he continued to his humble little apartment.
-x-x-
The beast snarled as soon as it heard the key in the door.
"Calm yourself Sabre, it's just me." The white animal looked from its position on the couch to its master. "You hungry?"
While it was an almost impossible thing to contemplate the beast on the couch seemed to smile. The said beast was a wolf, not a dog, a proper wolf. Apollo a.k.a. Wolf only got the real deal, he was a white wolf. The beast was his secret, as was other things about Apollo's life.
"You getting food or what Sabre?" The animal leapt from the couch and followed the man into the kitchen. As the animal tucked into the raw beef the man looked in the mirror.
His un-spiked brown hair was unimpressive. His lips were cracked and dry, his eyes showing the faint lines of tiredness.
"Alright you, I have court in the morning." Wolf looked to his pet.
-x-x-
Apollo Justice, ace attorney and…ace assassin. How do you pull a double life of like this so easy? Simple, you make sure it's a secret you're an assassin. An assumed name, a profession that is the polar opposite to what his daytime profession meant nobody was ever going to suspect him.
Ace attorney, defending the weak, making sure they never got charged for murder. When he was an attorney, he lived off what little he got and acted like the perfect little boy, being favoured by everyone.
Ace assassin, holding no contempt for human life and killing for cash. Wolf was his codename, killing his game – which he took very seriously. Hence, the fact he owned a real wolf as a pet – Sabre. He earned much more from this game, anywhere up to 2 million a hit.
-x-x-
"Apollo…I don't understand how you do it…" Clarissa whispered. "Or why…you're so much better than me and dad and the others." The young girl whispered.
To Apollo, being a lawyer was business. Being a hitman – that's a pleasure. Well, until he discovered who his next hit would be.
I know this is a strange idea that seems a tiny bit bizarre…