The warmth swelled around me. I was still in bed. Damn, I had to get up. I rolled to look at the clock. It was 10 am. My answering machine blinked. It was clear when I went to bed, I must have been really tired and not have heard the phone ring. I rolled onto my stomach and reached for the button. I clicked down on it and let the messages play as I rose from my bed.

"Angie, call me back about the wedding R.S.V.P. please." It was Lily, one of my close friends from High School. Well, close was like we saw each other once every two years. My life was too dangerous for a close anything. Her wedding was in four months, but I didn't know if I was going to be on a job that day. It all depended on the money put on the table. "Call received at 8 am. End of messages." The machine said and clicked off.

I took my gun from its holster on the iron bed frame. I had it special made for me. I grabbed my towel and stuck the gun in my shorts (I had the safety on) as I headed for the bathroom. I placed the gun next to the shower and turned on the hot water. As the shower started up, I looked at my reflection in the mirror. My dark brown waist length hair was frizzed from sleep and my pale blue eyes were dazed and tired. I needed caffeine, but a shower first. I stripped and stepped into the hot shower. It burned my skin, and I quickly lowered the water to a cooler setting. Blood pooled at my feet. It was still on my body from the night before. I thought I had gotten it all, but the dried stuff that I missed was now sliding down the drain. After a twenty-minute shower of me scrubbing all the blood off, I turned off the water and opened the curtain. I grabbed my towel and wrapped it around my wet body. I took my gun to the sink as I brushed my teeth. Then I brushed my wet hair and put some straighten serum in it. I went into my room, gun comfortably in my right hand. I dug into my draws and pulled out a pair of black underwear, a black bra, white socks, blue jeans, a purple tank top, my knife sheaths, and gun holster. I put my cloths on first then slide on my wrist sheaths and put in the knives. My holster went over my shoulder and clipped to my black belt that threaded through my pant loops. I put the gun in its place and then grabbed my blower dryer. I ran it through my hair until it was dry then looked at my pale complexion. I never wore make-up; it took too long to put on. I walked around my house comfortably armed. If I went out I would put on my leather jacket.

I alone lived in a one-story house with a bedroom, a huge bathroom, living room, kitchen, living room, dining room, and guest bedroom. I walked into the kitchen and started to make coffee. The smell of coffee freshly ground coffee beans filled the house. I went to my laptop and turned it on. It pinged on and the screen lit up blue. "Welcome Angel," the voice said, and I turned my back to it to get my coffee.

"Bring up e-mail." I said as the computer responded to my voice activated commands. "Open new messages."

"One new message from Christopher." The computer read out loud.

I turned and then walked over to the couch and hopped over the edge sitting comfortably in between a bunch of pillows. I didn't once spill a drop of the hot coffee that sat undisturbed in my hand. I sipped on it as the voice mail message read itself.

Christopher's voice was deep, but not crackled by a disrupter like in movies, "Angel I need you for a job. His name is Edward. You have 72 hours to kill him from the time you except this deal. Your reward is 1 mil. Call me back when you get this to confirm the deal. You will get more info on him once you have confirmed it." The message ended and I sat in the still quiet of the late morning.

"Damn, I just did a job last night. You think I would get more than five hours sleep before the next job." I leaned back and looked at the computer. I reached over to my cell phone and dialed Christopher's number by memory.

"Hello." It was the same low cold voice that I have always known.

"Chris, it's Angel."

"I know."

I shook my head, "Why do I bother?"

His voice held humor, "Bother with what?"

"You."

He laughed; it was creepy. Then again Christopher was always creepy. I have never met him, and he has met me, face to face that is. He is an ex-assassin, who works as a messenger now. He makes all the deals with people who want jobs done, but cannot contact the right people. I was one of those people that were not easily contacted. No one knew my real name, my address, or anything about me. I had severed myself from my family long ago and changed my name three different times. Angie is my newest name, hopefully permanent, and Angel is my alias as a killer. I have never changed my alias. "My dear little Angel, you know that you would be out of a job if I did not call you."

"And you would not get your cut out of all the cash I rack in if you didn't call me with jobs." I said coolly. "I'm your best contact and you know it."

"True, true. Now have you accepted the new job?"

I looked at my computer and thought a moment, "Yeah, I'm in. But what have you gotten me into worth 1 mil?"

"1 mil? Oh, right. The sum has been changed to 5 mil from my last e-mail."

I was a little confused, "What happened?"

Christopher laughed, "He got five assassins at once. He is good."

"Damn it Chris, what am I dealing with?" I was aggravated. Five million was a big change in only a few hours time.

"He does not exist, my dear. He has been deleted from every system. Here I will send you the file." I heard the keyboard on his end of the phone and a message came across my screen.

Edward, no last name, had short slightly spike hair and cold hypnotizing blue eyes. According to his record that was top secret, he was five foot ten and basically all muscle, but not like the idiot weightlifters you see at the gyms. He was handsome. According to his file he was an ex-federal agent. "You got this from someone in the government." I made it a statement instead of a question.

"Yes. You never do miss the mark."

"I cannot afford to. Anyway, how could I? Ex-federal agents have all records burned and forgotten. This guys record…. it is long. He was working with a special-ops group and went rouge. They thought they had killed him, but apparently not. No one has been good enough. Hell, he has trained in every martial arts department and was experiment on. Who really knows what this guy is capable of?"

"The F.B.I. could not handle it. You have been called in my dear."

"Stop calling me that."

"Sorry, anyway you have been called in. They trust you can do it. Also in turn they will ignore anything that happens on this kill. If you get in any trouble with the police they have agreed to clean it up. But be careful."

"I know. They have been after me for five years since I graduated from college, and now here is a chance to get a rouge ex-fed and me. I'm not stupid Chris."

"I never said you were, just to be careful is all."

I sighed and leaned back, "I'll take it."

I could almost see him smile, "Wonderful. Goodbye my Angel. I have given you all you need in that file, the rest is up to you."

"I know," and I hung up without saying goodbye. "A rouge F.B.I., he has been experimented on, but with what? He took out five assassins already. This is going to be fun." I finished my coffee and clicked away at my computer as I did some more research on my next target, Edward.

I had called every person I could, who owed me a favor, and got the information I needed. In the end, I found out that Edward was staying at motel a few cities over in Hubbardston, MA. I could be up there in a couple hours. The only other information I got was that he went out to clubs ever once in a while, and the assassins before me were all men. Something told me that he would not expect me to be a threat. I could play the innocent dame when I needed to, although, it wasn't my favorite role to play.

I packed up my laptop and put it into its' bag. Then I went into my room and packed one suitcase of cloths. Hidden in the suitcase were seven extra knives of different lengths. In a separate suitcase I brought my High-power sniper, a shotgun, my sawed off shotgun, twin Uzi's, and a Firestarter. I had enough ammo for each to last me months plus each one was loaded and had the safety on. Then to add to the weapons already on me, I strapped on my long spine sheath and matching blade to my back. In my nylon belly strap under my tank top, I hid a small handgun. I finished my outfit with my black leather jacket. Luckily, between the collar of the jacket and my long torso the hilt of the blade was not seen.

I closed up my house and grabbed the two suitcases, my laptop, and put my car keys and cell phone in my pocket. I left out the garage and packed my stuff away. I pulled out of the open garage and closed the door behind me.

I lived in a very desolate and tree filled area. No neighbors to worry about if a fight ever broke out at home. That meant no accidents, and no nosey neighbors to try and figure out what the hell was happening. I never had killed an innocent, not that anyone is truly innocent, but I did wound a guy on accident once. He lived, but that was when I decided to move out of the city. I now lived alone. It was actually kind of sad. I had no one but myself. Chris had made the offer of staying with me and keeping me…company on several occasions. I told him to fuck off. His exact words were, "It is not fair that you get to temp and tease me when you are not willing to participate in the act." I wanted to smack him for that, but could not.

In truth, we knew who each other were. After all, it is our job. But like I said, we had never formally met each other face to face. I really wanted to get him for that, but I just ignored him like I did every other time her made a pass at me. He was now thankfully giving up, I hope.

I drove down the street until I reached the Highway. I was turning off the street leaving Amesbury and heading onto I-495 South then Merged onto MA-2 exit 29B. From there I went on to RT-68 and took exit 22 into Gardner/ Hubbardston. Then I took the round about and the second exit onto MA-68. After I turned onto Brigham Street, I was in Hubbardston. It was and hour and a half long drive. It wasn't so bad. A lot closer than most my jobs. I didn't know if that was good or bad though. I guess I would find out soon enough.

Once I was in the town I realized how empty it actually was. There was a very small town store; it was quaint. I hate quaint. Across the street was a gas station and inside the stand, where the costumer paid, sat a bulky man with his legs propped up on a table as he reclined in the chair and watched the television on the table in front of him. I drove past down the deserted street. This was the main road. It was pathetic. I wonder if there is actually anyone under the age of sixty in this town? Well, it was apparently part of Quabbin Regional, there had to have kids somewhere in this place. It was mostly woods, so maybe they were all just not as clustered together like the kids in Boston or even in Amesbury were. Whatever, thinking about the people in this place was not my problem. I need to locate Edward.

I traveled further down the street and came across a newly established motel. It was classy enough to be called a hotel, much nicer than the average run down motel. But a motel is a motel; let's not kid ourselves now. This had to be the place where he was staying. I, on the other hand, was going to be staying in a hotel a little outside Hubbardston in a Holiday Inn near the local mall and main highway.

In a separate building, across the parking lot from the mall and teen hangout, was the adult hangout. This building, at night, came alive with music and people. It was originally a warehouse, but a few years ago it was turned into a club for all persons twenty-one years of age and up. This was the only legit club in the area. If Edward were a club person, like my informants told me, then this would be the spot to find him. If not then I would need to go and get new informants after dealing with the ones who failed me.

I pulled off the highway and into the parking lot of the Holiday Inn. It was a nice place and it would do for the next four days. Yes, I know the kill had to be done in three days, but if I stayed at the hotel a day longer I could catch up on the sleep I'd be missing. Oh, how I missed my sleep. I parked my car and went into the building to check in. The man at the front desk smiled warmly at me. I didn't like him. It was one of those fake smiles where you could tell that he did not want to be here.

"I'm checking in. It's under the name Delano." I smiled and placed my confirmation papers on the fake wood desk. He took the papers and smiled back at me.

"Your room is all set. Here are your keys and call if you need anything that will make your stay at the Holiday Inn a pleasant one." He handed me the keys and I went back out to my car to get my suitcases.

I lugged my bags up to my room. It was the biggest room in the whole place. I needed the space. It allowed me move places to hide and hide weapons. I always hung the 'do not disturb' signs outside my door when I was in the room and when I was away. I have odd sleeping patterns and wouldn't want a maid to come in and get a gun pointed at her head. I shoot first; ask questions later. Bad policy, but it kept me alive.

To be continued….