Started off as a one shot, turned into something more. Reviews are loved and appreciated.
Disclaimer: If I own Harry Potter, many fans would be angry for not using this time to write the last book. I don't own HP. I do own the OCs so ask permission before you borrow them.
Playing with Fire
There he was. My target for tonight - Alfonso Morgan, rival mob boss to George Pete. My mission for tonight - take him out. I pulled my leather gloves on tighter before starting up my green dirtbike and took off down the street. A few peple looked indiffently in my direction as I passed by the restrant Morgan was standing in front of until I puled out a pistol. People started screaming. A boby guard jumped in front of Morgan but it was too late. One shot in the head then I dissapeared down an alley. I dropped the dirtbike, tore off the gloves, jacket, and helmet, and ran down the alley into the getaway car - a unusuanal black sedan. No one even knew or suspected that it was I, Feux Petite, professonal hitwoman who had just taken out Alfonso Morgan.
"Hey, Brunno," I greeted the driver.
"Clean job?" he asked as he pulled onto the street, just like any other citizen would. No need to raise suspion.
"Yep." I answered. I took a pair of fingerless denim gloves and pulled them on my hands, a gift from my father a few years ago and my most prized possesion, after my weapons.
Suddenly a sound of sirens filled our ears and blue light surrounded us. Brunno swore and pulled over on the side of the road.
"Where did you get this car?" I questioned.
"It's my grandma's. She's rich. She's got, like, ten cars."
"You did tell her you were borrowing it, right?"
Brunno smiled. "Feux, would I ever steal a car?"
One of Brunno's many occupations was car theif.
"Is there a problem, officer?" Brunno asked after he rolled down the window.
"Yeah. This car was reported stolen."
As the cops cuffed us, I asked Brunno, "Doesn't your grandmother have Altzimier's?"
Brunno smiled weakly. "Oh, yeah."
I groaned. I've known since we were twelve. We were best friends and neighbors growing up. But never more in my life did I want to smack him accross the head more. Belive me, I've slapped him accros the head alot.
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"I'll tell you once, I'll tell you again," I began a few hours later when I heard my cell door open, "this is all a big misunderstanding."
"They told me they had a professional hitwoman in here" a familiar voice mocked. "I should have know it was you."
I opened my eyes and smiled. "You know, Alec, I only let them catch me so we can have these moments together." Inspector Alec Helsin was my Scotland Yard equivilant and former love, secretly of couse. We broke up after he wanted me to quit being a hitwoman.
"I, personally, think you did the world a favor by taking out Morgan but the law doesn't agree with me," Alec stated. "The law is willing to cut you a deal."
"I'm listening."
Alec shoved a picture under my face. I studied it. It was one of those pictures taken by a security camera. Nothing had ever, in my entire life made my blood run cold. That face did. It wasn't a human face, but that wasn't what bothered me. The face belong to someone who did cruel things for fun, someone who would kill you just because he was bored. He had two slits in the middle of his face for a nose and blood red eyes.
I put the picture down. "Who is he?"
"A terrorist. Codename: Lord Voldemort. He's the one who attacked that ship last week."
"I thought that ship blowing up was a freak accident."
"I thought that you would know better than to believe everything you hear on the telly."
"What does he have to do with me?"
"We need you to exterminate him."
I thought about it for a minute. I didn't like terrorist. Terrorist killed innocent people. They killed children. I took out mob bosses. Fugitives. People who deserved it. People sometimes asked me to take out people who they just didn't like or were in their way to success. I refused them. That was why I wanted to take the job. On the other hand, this guy was a terrorist. A very dangerous terrorist if Alec didn't want to do the job. That's the only reason Alec wanted me to take the job. I was a criminal, not a hero like one of these guys. I was a lowlife. If I got killed, the only people who would morn me would be fellow lowlives. Plus, this Voldie-what's-his-name guy scared me. That was a sign to stay away.
"What if I don't want to?" I asked.
"Then I hope you like prison."
I hesitiated for a minute. Then I said, "OK. I'll do it. What's your plan?"
Alec sighed. That's when I realized he didn't want me to do this. He didn't want me to get hurt. He cared. I, Feux Petite, had managed to break tougher - than - nails Alec Helsin's shell. This guy actually cared about me. He would cry if I died. Secretly, of course, but it still ment a lot to me. Not a lot of people care if I died or not. For a second I thought about backing out. Then I thought, Feux your going soft for some cop that already lost you.
"He says he's going to attack Scotland Yard tommorow night personally and leave no one inside or around it alive. We'll place you inside and you can just do what you do. After that's done we'll let you go," Alec answered.
"Fine with me. Can't wait."
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The helicopter hovered a few feet above Scotland Yard roof the next night. I checked to make sure I had all my weapons. 22 gauge shotgun accross my back (my personal favorite) : check. Two pistols around my waist: check. Throwing knives accross my chest: check. Enough ammo for an army: check. I pulled out the 22 and made sure my figerless gloves were on tight before jumping down.
"Be carefull," Alec shouted. I winked at him and smirked. It's just another job, I told myself. But something on the inside told me it wasn't. If I would have known how right my gut was, I might have told Alec no. Possibly.
The helicopter flew off to safety. I turned and walked trough that door to face my destiny.
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